Chapter Six

3.15 a.m.: saturday 30 october

New Town, Prague

818 miles and 35(+1) hours and 45 minutes until the wedding

The next time Kay blearily blinked her eyes open, it was to the sound of faint beeping and whistling wind. It had picked up in the night and every time there was a gust, it was joined by a splattering of rain against the windows. Not the kind of morning when you wanted to get out of bed. Especially when you'd had a stressful day, a late, interrupted night, and the bed was this toasty. She couldn't remember the last time she had felt so lethargic and snuggly in the morning.

She sneaked an arm out from underneath the covers to turn off her alarm, fumbling on the unfamiliar bedside table. It was still dark – which made sense since it was only 3.15 a.m. according to her phone – but it was a lesser darkness than before … When she'd had to rescue Harry from the sofa.

Suddenly, her eyes were a lot wider as the full reality of where she was, and with whom, came rushing back to her.

She dropped her phone back on the table and froze.

There was a very good reason she was so warm. Harry was lying right behind her, his body nearly flush with hers, the big spoon to her little spoon, so close she could tell each time he took a breath, the loose folds at the bottom of his T-shirt brushing against her waist, his hand resting on her hip. His soft exhales tickling the back of her neck.

Goosebumps spread from the top of her spine to her bruised coccyx.

She was still facing away from him, but she'd relaxed back from the edge in the night, curling into a foetal position, basically sticking her bum on his side of the bed. She wanted to turn to see whether his head was on her pillow or on his own but didn't dare move in case she woke him and he realised what had happened.

Or did he already know?

No. The quiet, evenness of his breathing was not fake. He was definitely still asleep and if he'd been taking advantage while she was sleeping to get close, surely he would have got a lot closer. The only two points at which they were fully touching were his hand, curled on her hip, and one of his knees kissing the back of her calf.

Don't think about kissing.

But she couldn't help it. Her teenage crush was spooning her. She'd spent so many nights imagining this. Daydreaming scenarios where they'd been watching a film in her room and both fallen asleep on her bed and she'd woken up in his arms, her head on his chest or face to face, so they blinked awake staring at each other and then moved those extra inches in the secret space of night-time, and let their lips touch.

A flush crawled from her cheeks to her chest. Embarrassment and desire.

But it was old desire. She didn't want this now . It was just going to make everything worse. Even more awkward than it already was.

Still. She couldn't seem to move. And just for a moment – with the tiredness tugging at her and the warmth of the bed holding her tight, the thrilling heat of Harry's palm burning her through the shorts of her pyjamas, his fingers relaxed but the tips of them pressing into her, like he was capturing her shape – she wanted to absorb it. For teenage Kay. The innocent, daydreamy Kay who had long since been pushed aside following the reality call of how people used each other.

For just a minute, she could allow herself to imagine how it might have been different, if Harry had actually been who she thought he was, and happily ever afters did come true—

Harry shifted behind her, he took a deeper breath and – before he woke up – she launched herself out of the bed, landing in a heap on the floor with a thump.

‘What was that?' Harry sat up in the bed, scrubbing at his face. ‘Kay?'

‘I … er … I fell out of bed.' She grabbed for her glasses and pulled herself to her feet, jamming them onto her face and then straightening her clothes.

‘Ouch. Are you all right? No damage done?'

No damage? Good question. How much had daydreaming damaged that barricade she'd raised against him?

He bent his knees beneath the covers and hooked his arms around them, squinting at her. God, his sleepy face was adorable. There was a crease in his cheek from the pillow, his mouth even more pouty and soft, bronze hair flopped forward over his brow with wisps and kinks. He looked more like his teenage self.

But he wasn't . It had been a silly indulgence and she hadn't even been able to steal a minute of the fantasy before it had been torn away and she'd ended up bruised. Literally, according to the way her right knee was throbbing. She was adding to the collection.

‘Kay?'

‘No permanent damage. Just a strange bed.'

‘In more ways than one, hey?' He chuckled, giving her a lopsided smile. ‘Amazing. I managed to spend a night here by myself unharmed and in less than twenty-four hours we've had two bed-related accidents. What time is it?'

‘Time to get up.' She picked up her phone, eager for a reason to look anywhere other than at Harry, and saw a message had come through from her brother in the night. ‘We've got forty-five minutes until the Uber gets here. I'm going to jump in the shower.'

‘I'll make some coffee.'

Kay grunted and grabbed her suitcase, virtually able to bounce it into the bathroom now it was so light. The sooner they got to the airport and went their separate ways, the better. Neither of them had volunteered their plans for when they landed in Paris, so she was working on an unspoken, mutual agreement that once they boarded their flight, this unwelcome interlude would be over.

The airport was still busy when they got there and queued up to check in their luggage. They'd barely spoken since the morning, swapping between bathroom and kitchen to get ready. He'd made her some toast, which she'd politely thanked him for because she was ravenous, having never gotten around to eating the night before for all the various irritating reasons (like salesmen interrupting her and cutting her own nose off to spite her face), and then they'd grabbed their bags and headed out to ride to the airport in the Uber.

The rain was coming down so heavily you could hardly see out through the windows, and it left a foreboding feeling in the pit of Kay's stomach. Harry was frowning at the lack of a view too and rubbing his thumb over the callus on his left middle finger repeatedly.

As they neared the check-in desk, she chewed her lip and turned to him. ‘Look, can I give you some money for the apartment and the sofa and everything?'

He lifted his eyebrow at her. ‘You don't need to do that.'

‘I kind of do. I don't feel right letting you pay for it all.'

‘Look, whether you were with me or not, it will either be expensed or paid off by my insurance, if I'm lucky.'

She would have retorted that influencers always seemed to be "lucky". Except, of course, he hadn't been particularly lucky in the last twenty-four hours at least. ‘I'm not sure expenses or your travel insurance will cover the sofa bed.'

‘Well, that wasn't your fault.'

Kay chewed her lip as they moved forward a step in the queue. She was pretty sure it was and even though there was no way she was going to admit that to him, she felt guilty. Especially because he was being so generous about it. She supposed it was easy to be generous about financial things when you were loaded.

She hated the idea that they'd come away from this with him thinking he'd done some kind of good deed for her, the charity case. She hadn't needed him last night. She could have made herself figure it out – instead of putting herself in a position where she now knew what it felt like to have him sleeping next to her. That kind of knowledge was detrimental to her sanity – she could feel it even now, her skin along her back and neck and hip all tight and hot like she had sunburn.

‘I can afford it, you know,' she said shortly.

He blinked at her. ‘I never said you couldn't.'

‘So why won't you let me pay for it?'

‘I don't even know that I'll have to pay for it yet.' He said it so dismissively, squinting up at the announcement boards, as though he had bigger things on his mind than contemplating his security deposit.

And then it clicked. Why would he be worried about it? ‘Oh. I see. Stupid me. Of course.'

He frowned and looked back at her; his mouth pinched at the corners. ‘What?'

‘You're going to persuade them not to, aren't you?'

His eyes widened. ‘No. That wouldn't be fair. And besides – my skills at persuasion don't work that way. You know how it …' he lowered his voice, ‘manifests. What did you think I was planning to do? Draw them a diagram of what happened to make them feel guilty or something, so they didn't charge me? You don't think that would come across as a bit odd?'

She shrugged. ‘Actually, I figured you'd just ask Daddy to speak to them and, poof, they'd let it go.'

Harry looked like he'd stopped breathing for a moment, his eyes burning into hers again, like he was trying to recognise her. ‘You've got no idea,' he finally said in such a low voice, it was almost to himself.

The denial, to her face, was too much to take. He was still acting like he'd done nothing wrong. Like he hadn't used her brother, with his gift to disseminate information easily, to help Harry pass his A levels and then dropped him as soon as he no longer needed him. Like he hadn't led her on throughout that whole year of studying, of coming over to her house, and then influenced her when she became a nuisance and it was time for him to move on.

‘I'm pretty sure I do, actually,' she said, tightly and when the person in front of them moved forward this time, she let Harry step forward by himself. He glanced back at her over his shoulder, but she turned her face away.

They moved up to the check-in desk in silence and even though he waited for her after he'd put his bag up, when she was done, she walked straight past him, throwing a brief ‘thanks for last night' at him before she hightailed it to the women's bathroom.

When enough time had passed that he should have given up and/or she'd given someone else the impression she had food poisoning, she sought out the pokiest-looking corner in the departure lounge and replied to her brother's message, asking what was happening with her delay. Their mum had obviously contacted him last night and mentioned it.

Kay: Sorry for not answering last night, but I'm about to board a flight now.

She knew Joe had a habit of getting up early – as a primary school teacher, his day in the classroom usually started at eight o'clock at least – but she wasn't expecting him to call straight back as soon as he read the message, after being up late last night.

‘Hey. Is everything running on time again your end, then? Because the weather is terrible here.' He muffled a yawn, and she heard the sound of a kettle on in the background.

‘As far as I can tell. It's stormy, but there are no delays,' she tried to reassure him. ‘My flight is landing in Paris, and I'll catch the Eurostar from there. Plenty of time before the wedding rehearsal.'

‘Great. Have you let Mum know?'

‘Yeah. I did last night.'

‘Right. Well. I guess it's seeing the weather here that has her freaking out then. She's been over to Aunty L's, and she's really worried about you getting stranded.'

Translation: Mum had been on the phone to him last night and given him an earful and he now wanted to make sure that Kay was keeping on top of managing their mother's anxiety. It was like an unwritten rule between them once they had made up after the divorce. It wasn't that Joe wouldn't be there for their mum if he needed to be, but he'd left for university and spent more time with their dad than Kay did, so she'd happened to be the one there. She was the default moral support, and how could she mind? She'd made her bed and she would lie in it.

‘Look, don't you worry about it, OK? I'll keep her updated and let her know if anything changes. You just concentrate on the wedding, and I'll see you later.'

‘Yeah, all right. Did you have to sleep at the airport last night?'

‘Oh, no. I found somewhere. No issues.' Thankfully they weren't doing a video call because the memory of sharing a bed with Harry was making her face heat up like she'd fallen asleep on a sun lounger located on the equator.

‘You sure? You sound weird.'

She forced a laugh. ‘Just didn't get a lot of sleep.'

‘I know that feeling.'

She almost asked if he was nervous but restrained herself. She didn't want to imply he was getting cold feet about marrying Sandy. He might think that she'd been using her gift to check out the bond between him and his fiancée and get paranoid that he actually had a reason to be nervous. There was no reason to think that her brother and Sandy weren't completely in love with each other. They acted that way.

And even if sometimes people did act like they felt one way when truly they didn't – it wasn't her business. It was an invasion of their privacy. In fact, even with people's consent, she wouldn't do it. Tina had badgered her for weeks the summer after she got her gift, desperate to know if the constant sniping between her and Joe was actually sexual frustration and … it turned out it wasn't. Joe really just didn't like Tina much. Needless to say, Tina was not best pleased hearing that, even when Kay had tried to sugar-coat it. She'd accused Kay of not wanting her friend and brother to get together because she'd fallen out with him and was bitter from what had happened with Harry. And that was the end of that friendship.

No, best to keep out of it entirely.

‘Just a couple more days and then you'll be on your honeymoon, recovering from all the wedding hoopla. Plenty of lazy mornings in bed.'

Joe snorted. ‘I don't intend to sleep during those lazy mornings in bed, though.'

‘Ugh, Joe. Keep those kinds of comments to yourself please.'

He laughed and though she was smiling as they said goodbye, there was a strange feeling in her diaphragm, like her magic was trying to push up against her breastbone. Probably just heartburn from too much coffee.

She opened her tote bag to slip her phone back inside and found herself staring at her lumpy corn husk doll. With its scorch mark right across the chest.