Chapter 2

TWO

‘Maggie? Maggie?' I hear the words whispering over me, like a ghost in my ear. I am dead. This is someone calling me to the afterlife. I must stay away from the light.

I sit up, pulling at my hair like I'm opening curtains from the window that is my face. Yet there is no light. I look down at the bed covers: blue, striped and surprisingly soft. Is that brushed cotton? That's lovely. But not mine. Shit. Blind panic runs right through me. I look around the room: there's a dresser with a mirror and a limited assortment of toiletries and, to the left of that, a Blade Runner poster and a cork noticeboard filled to the brim with postcards, tickets and photos. I reach down to find I am wearing the dress I had on last night. Did I? No. I would have remembered that. I dimly remember an Uber with Frank and Leo. Please tell me I didn't throw up on them. I will never live that down.

‘Maggie? Maggie?' the voice sounds again, accompanied by a light knocking. I attempt to straighten out my hair and pull the duvet up over my shoulders.

‘Yes? '

The door opens tentatively and Leo pops his head round, his eyes tightly closed. ‘Are you decent?' he asks.

‘Yes. I'm just a little confused,' I say, still glancing around the room. I see my boots, my handbag hanging off the bedpost, a sombrero lying on the floor. Oh my god, we weren't supposed to take them. I am a thief.

Leo opens one eye and enters the room, shutting the door behind him slowly. I stare at him for a moment, still trying to recall what happened yesterday, but also looking at the mugs of tea in his hands. He's dressed in a Kings of Leon T-shirt and jeans, his sandy blond hair styled perfectly, looking far too spritely for this time of morning, whatever that might be. He places one cup of tea on the bedside table and stands over me like I'm a poorly relative. I would never tell the others this but Leo always makes the best tea.

‘Is this your room?' I ask him. He nods and removes some clothes from a chair in the corner of the room, taking a seat. ‘I like your sheets,' I say running my hand over them.

‘I like to be cosy.'

‘So…this is your bed? I am in your bed,' I whisper deliberately.

He nods again.

‘We didn't…'

He looks down at the floor, almost frowning. Holy bananas. This is awful. It's awful that I have no recollection of the event, which obviously is the hugest insult to him. But then a smile creeps across his face.

‘I hate you,' I say in deadpan tones.

‘You and Jasper drank a bit too much tequila and we worried that you weren't going to make it home, so Frank and I bundled you in an Uber with us and let you sleep it off here.'

‘I remember the Uber. The driver's name was Sri. He had a beaded seat cover. '

‘That is true. Do you remember when you ran your fingers over it and sang us a song?' Leo asks.

‘No, I do not. What did I sing?' I ask. Please don't let it be embarrassing.

‘I think it was "Cotton-Eyed Joe". Jasper harmonised. It had strong country vibes.' Leo laughs again and I reach over to take a sip of tea. As I lean over, I realise one of my elbows is a bit stiff. I look down to see a bruise forming. ‘Oh, sorry about that. That was Frank's fault. He took the arms, I took the legs. There was a point where you got jammed in a doorway.'

I snort a little on my tea. ‘You both carried me into the house?' I don't know whether to be slightly depressed by the fact it took two grown men to carry me in.

‘Oh, it wasn't like that,' he replies, sensing my shock. ‘Frank and I are weaklings. It was that or leave you in the Uber.'

‘Did you carry Jasper too?' I ask.

‘Oh, Jasper ran into a hedge to throw up and crawled in himself. He's downstairs.'

I look around the room again. I knew Leo lived in a house share with Frank and some other bloke called Ben. It was a new arrangement since Frank's previous housemate had moved abroad. I'd never quite visualised what it might look like. In my head, it involved a lot of Pot Noodles and video games. This room looks quite mature though, almost grown up. There's a plant in the corner and a pile of books with an expensive-looking reading lamp.

‘So you took me upstairs and tucked me into bed?' I ask him, bemused.

‘Frank's room is a tip. Plus, I changed my sheets at the weekend so it felt like a safer bet. How's the head?'

‘Fuzzy. So I didn't do anything too embarrassing? Did I throw up?'

He pauses for a moment. The one thing about Leo is that he's black and white, no nonsense. I know he won't lie to me .

‘You had one final hurrah before you fell asleep; you told me you couldn't sleep with your bra on. You took it off and threw it at Frank.'

‘What? How violent of me. Did it hurt him?' I ask, horrified.

‘It's a bra,' he says grinning. ‘He just squealed loudly and flapped his arms around like he was being attacked by a bird. I was impressed you had such good aim.'

‘So you're telling me you and Frank saw my boobs?' I say, my face slowly grimacing with panic.

‘No,' he says, putting a hand to the air in horror. ‘You did that things girls do when you unclip it and pull it through your arm. You were drunk but it was a very fluid, well-rehearsed motion.'

‘That thing girls do?'

Leo starts to blush. ‘You know…' he says, taking a sip of his tea.

‘Well then, thank you. For keeping me safe.'

‘You're our boss. I think it's in our contracts,' he tells me.

I smile. We all have our jobs in our little work family and Leo is my reliable, dependable one. I hired him to bring balance to our IT universe. He's the person who I can always send out into the office and know he won't say anything mildly offensive to the people in HR who don't know how to save their work (Jasper) or get distracted by food and the fellow geeks in the mail room (Frank).

‘I apologise. We shall blame the tequila. Where did you sleep?' I enquire.

He looks down to the base of the bed, where there's an inflatable mattress with a sleeping bag and pillow.

‘Really? That's awful. I'm so sorry. You could have topped and tailed it with me?' I suggest, not really thinking about the words that have just come out of my mouth. He blushes, pretending he's not heard them. ‘Or bunked in with Frank. '

‘Frank talks in his sleep. It's like a low-key horror event. I wouldn't have coped,' he jokes, and I'm glad he's managed to change the tone in the room.

‘Can I ask why you're so sprightly this morning? I saw you do the shots too.'

I have hazy memories of last night. We all cheered when sizzling pans of fajitas were brought to the table. There were churros and tacos too, but overriding my memories of the food are images of Jasper with a sombrero singing ‘Despacito' using bottles of habanero sauce as a microphone. It made a child on a neighbouring table cry.

‘I'm Northern,' he says, gritting his teeth.

I laugh.

‘We're bred hard. I also know tequila is the devil's liquid. After a while, I started topping my glass up with water.'

He's smarter than I give him credit for. I continue to look around the room, searching for a mirror so I can see what sort of disrepair my face is in. I predict it'll be giving sad raccoon vibes. ‘Am I allowed to say your room is pretty tidy for a bloke?' I don't know what the wrong or right thing is to say anymore but given I have my legs underneath his duvet, it feels like we've crossed a certain line in our relationship.

‘I try,' he says.

‘Can I ask who the girls in the picture are?' I say pointing to the noticeboard in the corner.

‘My sisters, Claire and Gabby.' He puts emphasis on the word sisters in case I thought they may have been anyone else.

‘They look like fun.'

‘They look like trouble. Gabby's back in Kendal, Claire lives in Ilkley.'

I nod as I take in the information, too ashamed to say I really do lump the North together as one big area past Birmingham. ‘This is terrible. I'm in your bed, I work with you every single day and I feel I should have known something like that. I thought they were girlfriends or something.'

‘You thought I had two girlfriends?' he laughs. ‘Who pose together for photos?'

I shake my head, giggling. ‘I knew you were dating someone. I just…'

‘I was but it fizzled out a few months ago,' he explains.

‘Oh, I'm sorry.'

‘Don't be. For my birthday, do you know what she got me?'

‘I'm hoping a cake?' I tell him, suddenly quite engaged in this story.

‘She got me a T-shirt with her face printed on it.'

I try to hold on to my laughter. ‘Please tell me you kept it.'

‘I did not,' he says, suppressing a grin. ‘So, seeing as we're now bedfellows, do you need to know anything else about me?'

I blush when he says this. I guess we've shared a bed, just not at the same time. He slept on the floor last night like a faithful puppy. I get it. ‘I'm good. For now. Is there anything you need to know about me?'

He shrugs. ‘No siblings, London born and bred, likes a pint of shandy in the summer, has a scar on her left shoulder from when she went the wrong way down a water slide, bit snobbish about chocolate chip cookies,' he reels off.

‘I am not.'

‘I see you looking at the Maryland Cookies like they're some lesser form of snack.'

I laugh but in the back of my mind wonder about how he knew all the other stuff, how he's quietly been keeping tabs. I think I quite like that he's been listening when I've been prattling away in our underground office.

‘What's the time, by the way?' I say, looking around for a clock.

‘Seven. I wasn't sure what you wanted to do. Go home before work? You're welcome to have a shower here,' he says, gesturing towards a towel folded on his dresser. I pout to see how, while I was passed out and drooling on to his sheets, he was thinking about what I might need in such detail. There's something gentlemanly about it all which catches me by surprise.

‘I might rush home. You guys live near Chiswick, yes?' I ask, slightly embarrassed to not even know what London borough I may be in.

He nods. ‘And you live in Shepherd's Bush.'

‘I do. I may be a bit late, in that case,' I tell him.

‘I won't snitch.' And we both sit there, smiling at each other. This is a little bizarre but I'm grateful that he's not made it awkward, that he's allowing me to sit in his bed and drink tea and chat. There's a sudden knock on the door and I turn to see Frank standing there.

‘You're alive then?' he says, his eyes scanning what I assume to be the halo of frizz on the top of my head.

‘I am.'

‘Jasper might be dead,' he says unfazed.

‘Where is he?'

‘He fell asleep on the living room floor. He's in star shape, face down like he's fallen out of a plane. I've given him a kick. Ben is going to throw some water over him.'

I look over at Leo, happy he didn't do the same to me. I got tea and a folded towel.

‘Leo filled me in on what happened last night, by the way. Thank you…'

‘Did he tell you everything?' he replies, his eyes shooting straight to Leo who shakes his head. I look at each of them trying to work out what's happening.

‘Please, boys, don't scare me.' I trust both of them implicitly but there's something that makes me think I haven't heard the whole story. Frank looks at a loss for words. ‘Did I do something very embarrassing?' I try and run through what may have happened in my head. They saw boob, didn't they? That's the sort of thing that has to go to HR.

‘You farted quite loudly as we were carrying you…' Leo says, plainly.

Frank looks into space to have heard those words said out loud but then doubles up, cackling. I feel a deep blush to my cheeks, sinking through my spine. I did what now? ‘Yes, it was very loud. It set off a car alarm in the street, dogs started howling.'

‘You're joking,' I say, mortified.

‘I am.' He shifts Leo a look but then turns to me, trying to change the subject.

‘You better get up. You need to go home and change. We have no clothes for you here, I'm afraid.'

‘It would have been weird if you did, Frank.'

‘This is true.'

I pull back the duvet and Frank jumps a little. I am not sure what he was expecting, but I am clothed. As I stand up, I stumble slightly – blame a rush of blood to the head or last night's alcohol – and Leo lurches forward to catch me, an arm going to mine. ‘Hold up there, Maggie. You alright?'

I look him in the eye, gripping on to his arm as he smiles. It's warm, reassuring but familiar. I can't quite put my finger on it. Frank looks on, grinning. ‘Maybe get me some more caffeine?' I ask.

‘Will do, boss,' he replies. ‘Anything else?'

‘What did you do with my bra?' I say, crossing my arms across my chest, conscious that I am possibly flashing a hint of nipple under the fabric of my dress.

‘Frank…chuck it over, it's on the hooks behind the door.' Frank looks at both of us. I'm not sure he's handled many bras before so he uses his forefinger and thumb to pi ck it up by the straps and throws it over, the way someone might throw a snake they've found in the wild. The throw is so weak it falls short and lands on Leo's head, the cups sitting perfectly over his ears. He looks like a World War Two pilot. I release my hands to cover my mouth. At least it's one of my good bras. It almost suits him.