Chapter Fourteen

I have barely interacted with Theo for seven days. I am the absolute worst music industry spy in the world. Is he writing the album? I have no idea. All I can tell my sister is that he's clearly enjoying unfettered access to carbohydrates.

‘It's been a week, Serena,' I whisper at my phone screen. ‘It's just getting weird. It feels like I'm living with a hungry ghost.'

Every single morning when I've come downstairs it has been to find that Theo has eaten the other half of the food I prepared the night before, rather than the work of the expensive Michelin-starred chef David hired. I have started making double now because I get it: frozen pizza probably does taste incredible if you haven't eaten actual bread for years. In fact, all my ‘normal-person' food supplies in the cupboards have been disappearing.

Obviously I haven't mentioned this arrangement to David – I feel like I've accidentally become Theo's dealer, sneaking him refined sugar. Today I realized he's demolished an entire packet of chocolate Hobnobs and I think he's using the semi-skimmed milk too. I might have to stage some sort of intervention.

‘You haven't seen him at all?' On the screen my sister scowls back at me.

‘I mean I've seen him,' I say. ‘I can offer you proof of life. Yesterday he came in the kitchen and I made him one of those disgusting slimy drinks – I've actually got the hang of the juicer now. I reckon I could juice anything… But he said maybe half a dozen words and then left again to barricade himself in his room. He barely even looked at me. Any time I ask him if he wants anything he practically snaps my head off. He's being really weird.'

I don't mention the night I overheard him on the phone. Having not seen him for seven hours I was just about to crack and knock on his door to see if he needed anything, when I heard him say my name. Knowing that I shouldn't eavesdrop, I did it anyway and, leaning forward, caught his words loud and clear.

‘… absolute fucking disaster. Why did I ever think this was a good idea? This is torture. I should have made them let me bring David.'

‘You're spiralling. Just try and act like a normal human being,' an amused female voice had answered, the sound tinny through the phone speaker as Theo moved around. Something about that voice and the husky way she laughed seemed vaguely familiar.

Theo let out a deep groan of frustration.

I'd snapped back, scurried away, pissed off by the whole situation. I didn't think I was doing a bad job; he was the one with the attitude. I have no idea what his problem is or how to fix it.

‘Hmmm.' Serena continues to look deeply annoyed. ‘And you haven't heard anything to suggest he's writing?'

I feel strangely disloyal when I shake my head. ‘But how would I know what the process of writing an album sounds like?' I ask quickly. ‘He could be writing things down in a journal or something.'

Serena sighs and rubs her forehead. ‘You'll just have to ask him straight out,' she says. ‘Try and get some sort of update. My bosses are really breathing down my neck on this one. If it doesn't work then I'm going to be seriously fucked.'

‘It will work,' I say with more confidence than I feel. But looking at my sister's worried face has me convinced I will wring ten miserable songs out of Theo Eliott with my bare hands if I have to. After all, I control the flow of biscuits in this house and I'm not above bribery.

‘At least it must be making life easy for you,' Serena continues. ‘If he's making himself scarce.'

‘Oh, yeah,' I agree a little glumly. ‘There's really not much for me to do at all.' In fact, other than keeping all the cupboards stocked, cleaning his room, sending David thrice-daily updates, and sharing my dinner, there's been nothing.

Especially because Theo seems to barely tolerate my presence whenever we are forced together. I know I was worried about having to spend a lot of time with him because of all the fluttery feelings of attraction, but somehow living with Theo as a distant stranger is so much worse. I'm glad he's not around flirting with me all the time, I am, but it's like now that there's no possibility of a physical relationship between us, he doesn't want to bother with me at all, like he's going out of his way to avoid me. That's pretty dickish behaviour in my book.

I spend my days walking by the beach or staring at the screen on my laptop, half-heartedly filling out job applications or struggling to summon up some enthusiasm for the years-long project of turning my PhD thesis into a book. I think there was a time when I was excited about this work, but I'm finding it hard to remember. The pressure to publish is pretty intense in academic circles and I know that it would really help me to secure a position, but at this point the pages of notes make me feel strangely claustrophobic.

I'm a natural introvert, but even for me this much isolation is unsettling. I've been reduced to making small talk at the supermarket just to experience a bit of human connection. I had forgotten how far away from everything Granny Mac's house feels, and while that had always been part of the adventure with Lil and Serena, now I just feel… lonely.

And that's before we even get into the minefield of being back at the site of my seventeen-year-old self's deepest emotional trauma. Every time I go for a walk, I see something that reminds me of how I felt that summer, how angry and betrayed and heartbroken. Even though it's only an echo of those feelings, it's still a rush of pain that is almost physical.

As I do every time the spectre of Sam raises his head, I shove the thought aside. I'll save it for my session with Ingrid… maybe. Or maybe I'll keep ignoring it and hope it goes away. That seems like a good option.

‘Are you okay?' Serena asks, fixing me with a beady stare. ‘You're all mopey and actually, now that I look at you properly, you look like shit.'

‘Gosh, thanks,' I mutter.

‘And you're a bit croaky.' Her voice is accusatory.

‘I think I might be coming down with a bit of a bug,' I admit, shivering a little and pulling the duvet up and over my head, clasping it under my chin despite the warmth of the day. I can see myself in the corner of my screen and I look like a clammy little caterpillar. This is what comes of making small talk with people.

‘Don't you dare get ill,' Serena warns. ‘You know you're useless when you're ill. It's because you pasty academics don't get any vitamin D. Have you been using that spray I sent you?'

‘What is it with you lot and your supplements?' I grumble. ‘Theo's on about seven hundred a day. And what is ashwagandha anyway? I thought that was what Lil drank in that tent when she had a vision of a giant version of herself eating a tiny version of herself and then everyone shit their pants?'

‘That's ayahuasca, you idiot,' Serena says. ‘Ashwagandha is to help with stress.'

‘Don't know what he's got to be stressed about,' I reply sulkily, because I'm not feeling very charitable towards Theo at the moment. ‘I'm pretty sure David brushes his teeth for him. Spoilt little rock star.'

‘Well, that spoilt little rock star is your problem now, Clemmie, yours and mine. Just do what you can, will you?'

‘Of course,' I agree instantly, because for Serena to even ask me to do something for her again tells me how stressed she is. ‘I'll get you a full report, I promise.'

‘Thanks, Clem.' Serena's voice softens. ‘And I'm sending you some echinacea tablets right now. HARRIET!' I hear her call to her own poor, maligned assistant. ‘WE NEED TO SEND CLEMMIE ECHINACEA ASAP.'

Just as I'm feeling a wave of affection towards my sister, she ruins it by adding, ‘SHE'S A LITTLE BITCH WHEN SHE'S SICK!', and then she cackles, blows me a kiss and hangs up.

With a sigh I drag myself off the bed. Actually, my whole body is feeling a bit achy. Maybe it's just all the sad, lonely walking I've been doing.

I head down to the kitchen and pour myself a glass of orange juice because I might as well get in on these vitamins everyone is raving about, and then, as if my conversation with Serena has summoned him, Theo appears too.

‘Hi!' I say, wiping the juice from my top lip with the back of my hand.

‘Hey.' Theo's eyes flick towards me from under his lashes. He doesn't exactly sound thrilled to see me.

‘Can I get you anything?'

‘No.' He sounds frustrated, almost angry. ‘I was just going to get a bottle of water and go for a walk. Got to get out of that room for a bit.'

‘Sure you don't want some orange juice?' I pick up the carton and hold it out towards him.

He actually takes a step back, away from my hand, as if he's afraid I'll touch him. That now familiar muscle in his jaw ticks. ‘No,' he says again.

‘Okay,' I reply, trying not to sound bothered. I can't work out why he's being so rude. I'm doing everything David asks me to do. I don't think I've committed any major errors apart from not having everything perfectly ready for him that first day, but he still seems vaguely pissed off by my presence.

I know what I promised Serena and I don't want to give myself time to chicken out so I blurt, ‘I just got off the phone with my sister. She wanted to know how it's all going.'

Theo's back is to me as he reaches in the fridge, but I see his shoulders tense. ‘It's going fine,' he says tightly.

‘So, writing is happening?' I ask, wanting to confirm.

‘Sure.' Theo closes the fridge door with an unnecessary amount of force. ‘What do you think I've been doing all week?'

‘I just wanted to check. Serena seemed… a bit anxious.'

Theo snorts. ‘The studio will get their pound of flesh; you can tell them not to worry. After all, that's why you're here, to keep an eye on me, isn't it? Report back to the label. That's why it had to be you here instead of David, so they could send in a spy?'

‘I'm not your mum nagging you about doing your homework,' I snap, stung. ‘You owe them an album and you're making other people's lives difficult. I'm just here trying to do a job.'

‘So am I,' Theo snaps right back.

‘Good.'

‘Good.'

‘Fine.'

‘Fine.'

With that, he sweeps out, and I hear the front door open and slam shut. I slump back against the counter and press the cold juice glass to my forehead. I've got a headache coming on and I feel knackered. I try to remind myself that this is better than being unemployed and stuck back at Mum's house, but then at least Theo wouldn't be there, and I wouldn't be completely, utterly alone and feeling like crap.

I'm probably just tired. I glance at the clock and see that it's midday already. I'll just take some paracetamol and go and have a quick nap. That will sort me out. I knock back the tablets and then make my way upstairs, crashing wearily into bed and falling asleep almost instantly.

When I peel my eyes open it's dark. Properly dark. I'm completely discombobulated and also freezing. Teeth chattering, I pull the duvet tighter around my body and lift myself up on one elbow to look at the clock. The room tips around me for a moment before I can focus on the numbers. Almost midnight. Did I just sleep for twelve hours? Why do I feel worse than before?

Gingerly, I swing my feet out of bed, hissing when they hit the cold floor. Right. I'm ill. But I'm a grown-up. I can deal with this. I just need to be sensible. What do I need? The ache in my head is a dull thump behind my left eye. My throat feels dry and scratchy. Water, I decide. That seems like a good bet. Water and painkillers and maybe something to eat.

With that mental list made, I shuffle downstairs, still swathed in the duvet. All I have to concentrate on is putting one foot in front of the other, but unfortunately the floor refuses to behave, tilting occasionally from side to side.

I have to sit on the stairs for a minute to have a little rest, my face pressed against the banister, but eventually I make it down to the living room. There, sprawled on the sofa, the glow from the TV kissing his perfect profile, is Theo. He looks up guiltily, and I see he's eating my mint choc chip right out the tub with a spoon. He reaches for the remote and pauses what he's watching, which is an old episode of The Great British Bake Off.

‘Clemmie!' he exclaims, getting to his feet. ‘I'm glad you came down. Look, about earlier… I didn't mean to be short with you. I'm sorry. I know you're just doing your job. I am working on the music. You can tell Serena, all right?' He says the words quickly, breathlessly, as if he's been waiting to get them out for a while, and I'm dimly aware that I should care about them, but I'm having to focus all my energy on not face-planting on the rug at my feet.

‘Are you okay?' he asks, his voice wobbling from far away. Then suddenly his face swims into view, so close to me that I jump, tripping on the edge of my duvet. He wraps his hand around my arm, which is the only thing that keeps me from falling.

‘I think,' I say ponderously, ‘I think I'm going to be very sick.'

And then I drop the duvet to the ground and run on shaking legs towards the kitchen, where I promptly throw up into the sink.

‘Oh my God, Clemmie.' Theo's voice is aghast and I hear his footsteps behind me. I feel a vague sense of unprofessionalism as I vomit some more.

Theo makes a gagging sound, like he's trying not to be sick himself. Then a hand pulls my hair back from my face, while another hand rubs circles on my back. ‘Okay, it's okay,' he murmurs.

‘It's not okay,' I manage forlornly, my legs trembling as I lean heavily against the sink. ‘David's going to be so disappointed. I'm not being a good Victorian chambermaid at all.'

‘Are you finished being sick?' Theo asks, ignoring this.

I consider the question seriously for a moment, then shake my head and throw up again. After that things get a bit blurry. Theo cleans me up and I find myself sitting on the floor, my back against the cabinet, a famous rock star crouched in front of me holding a glass of water.

‘Drink this,' he says firmly. ‘Just little sips.'

I try to reach for the glass but my arm is so heavy. ‘Why is my arm so heavy?' I ask Theo, bewildered.

He presses his fingers to my forehead and it's just lovely. His hand is so cool and as it travels down to cup my cheek I can't help but nuzzle into it, only a little bit.

‘You've definitely got a temperature,' he says. ‘Right. Can you drink some water if I hold the glass for you?'

I squint up at him. It's so bright in here, and the kitchen light hangs over his head like a halo. He holds the glass to my lips and I take a few small sips.

‘Good,' Theo says. ‘Now let's get you some paracetamol and get you back to bed.' He hesitates. ‘I don't actually know where the paracetamol is.'

‘There's some in that drawer over there.' I gesture with my extremely heavy arm.

Theo feeds me the tablets and we have a small, wobbly moment where I'm not sure if I'm going to keep them down, but it seems safe for the time being. Then he puts his arm tightly around my waist and helps me get back upstairs and into bed.

‘I'm sorry I didn't make dinner,' I say.

‘Don't be stupid,' Theo snaps. Then he huffs a deep breath. ‘That doesn't matter, Clemmie.'

‘Don't tell David about all the food,' I whisper. ‘I told him you're eating raw vegan sushi rolls and hemp muffins.'

‘It will be our secret,' he agrees, his voice softening. ‘I'm leaving the water here,' he says then, gesturing to the nightstand. ‘And some more tablets which you can take after four, okay?'

‘After four,' I mumble obediently.

He disappears for a minute and comes back with my duvet and also a flannel soaked in cold water which he lays across my head.

‘Ahhhh,' I say. ‘'S nice.'

‘That's what my mum always did for me,' he says softly, stroking the hair away from my face. ‘Anyway, I'm sure you'll feel better in the morning after some sleep.' He hovers uncertainly for a moment. ‘And I'm just next door, so if you need anything, yell.'

‘Mmmm.' I'm too groggy to make words.

He stands looking at me for another beat and then stuffs his hands in his pockets and leaves, pulling the door not quite shut behind him.

‘Thank you,' I mutter, but I don't think he hears. He's already gone. And then my eyes drift closed once more.