LITMIR.BIZ

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to?’

      He doesn’t answer, just tugs me along with him, and as we turn the corner I see where he’s heading. Ahead of us is the Carlton Hotel, its big gilt letters above the old metal canopy the most welcome thing I think I’ve ever seen in my life. Another crash comes from up ahead, and this time the glass from a bus shelter lies in pieces on the ground, twinkling under a street lamp. And then, as we stare, the street lamp goes out, along with all the lights in the square. There’s no moon, and the night is inky black. I feel panic bubbling up in my chest. The town is being smashed up around us, every huge gust of wind is like an assault on my body, and now we can’t even see where we’re going. Ed pulls me to him and we make our way down the street, clamped together like a pair from a three-legged race. The dark is absolute and scary, and I can hardly see where we’re treading, but as we stumble towards the hotel a few dim lights come back on inside. Ed says something about a generator, but I say I don’t care if they’re burning the furniture as long as we can be inside in the warmth and light. We climb the steps, and with amazing luck the door is unlocked; I think if it hadn’t been I would have just sat down and howled. As it is, once inside, I stand in the semi-dark of the foyer, shaking uncontrollably.

      This is Harborough, I think. Things like this don’t happen in Harborough. It’s crazy.

      A woman comes through from a room behind reception, and when she speaks it’s in a clipped and measured tone, as though weather like this happens every day.

      ‘Can I help you?’

      ‘We need a room,’ I blurt out. ‘I mean, two rooms.’

      ‘We’re stranded,’ Ed says. ‘Do you have two single rooms?’

      The woman, tight-lipped and cold-eyed, nods at the storm outside, through a window that trembles and rattles in its frame.

      ‘Everyone’s stranded. We’re booked up. Practically.’

      ‘What do you mean, practically?’

      ‘Just one room left. Honeymoon suite.’ A small smirk now tips the woman’s lips up at one side. ‘That’s all we’ve got.’

      ‘We’ll take it.’ I turn to Ed. ‘Won’t we?’

      He blinks, and clears his throat. ‘If that’s okay with you … sis.’

      For a moment I stare at him, then grin as I realise he’s trying to save me embarrassment. ‘Fine,’ I say. ‘We can afford it, can’t we?’ Looking back at the woman I catch a sly smile on her face. ‘My brother just won at the casino. Lucky for us.’

      She narrows her eyes, not fooled for a moment, but not quite ill-mannered enough to say so. ‘Here’s the key, number thirty-three.’ With a sharp slap she places it on the counter. ‘Up those stairs, third floor.’ As we reach the stairs she calls after us. ‘Will you be wanting breakfast delivered to your room? It’s included in the rate. Or maybe you’ll be needing to get back home.’ She’s giving Ed a firm look as she says this.

      ‘No, breakfast please,’ Ed says. ‘Full English for both.’ He looks at me. ‘All right, sis?’

      I nod, my lips clamped tightly together to stop myself from laughing. We climb three flights of thinly carpeted stairs, and when we reach the room and step inside, we just stand there, grinning at each other.

      ‘All right, bro?’ I say, and start to giggle, the relief of being safe making me giddy.

      But Ed’s smile is fading. ‘Look,’ he says, ‘if you want, you can have the room, I’ll go downstairs and sleep on a sofa, or something.’

      My stomach lurches. I’ve done the wrong thing. He’ll think I’m too pushy, even though it was Ed who came to the pub, Ed who suggested the casino, Ed who led us to safety in this hotel. ‘No, no, it’s fine. I mean, it’s just sharing a room, isn’t it?’

      There’s a tiny pause, where I wonder if he’s thinking the same as me. Then suddenly I see what the wind has done to us, both of us, myself captured in the mirror behind Ed. ‘You look like you’ve had an electric shock! And I look like a crazy woman!’

      He glances at himself, then back at me, and we explode into laughter, doubled up and helpless, until someone in the next room bangs on the wall.

      But when the laughter subsides, and Ed moves to the window to look outside, I find I’m shivering. The room is cold, it’s true, but there’s something else, some mixture now of excitement and nerves, not helped by the foreign smell of the place; a harsh smell, of furniture polish or toilet cleaner. Better that than not having been cleaned, I think, and gaze around the chintzy room, with its flimsy four-poster bed and china figurines that twirl or posture on every surface. There are tasselled curtains at the window, which Ed is just closing, there are fringed cushions on the bed, invitingly plumped up, and there are little pink-shaded lamps on each table at the side. I find the switch for those on the back wall, and instantly the room seems cosier, friendlier, a haven from the wind that howls and shakes the old sash window until I think it might shatter like the one in the square.

      ‘Is that window safe?’

      ‘Should be. It’s got more give. It’ll just make a hell of a noise all night.’

      I look back at Ed, to find him staring at me.

      ‘I know how this must look,’ he says. ‘It wasn’t meant to turn out like this.’ I’m about to joke that he must have seen the forecast and planned it all, but then I see that he is properly worried that he’s done the right thing, his eyes searching mine.

      ‘Don’t worry. We’re here. We’re safe.’

      ‘I’ll sleep in the bath,’ he says.

      ‘Don’t be stupid.’ I cross to where he stands. ‘Unless you really want to.’

      When he doesn’t reply, and to make sure he knows I’m not just thinking of his comfort, I take his hands and kiss him on the mouth, slightly surprised at the risk I’m taking – of rejection, of getting it wrong. He returns the kiss, and I think there is some feeling in it; I haven’t got it that wrong. But afterwards he steps back a little. ‘This may sound ridiculously old-fashioned, but I don’t want to take advantage of you.’

      I laugh. ‘That’s what -’ No, Eva, don’t bring your mother into this. ‘You won’t be,’ I say, serious now. ‘If we had two rooms I’d probably creep into yours. I’m not a virgin, Ed.’

      He squeezes my hand. ‘That’s not the only consideration.’

      ‘What is then?’

      ‘You’re nineteen. I’m twenty-nine. Some might say I’m too old for you. Your parents, for one.’

      I roll my eyes. ‘Let’s leave them out of it. My parents have nothing to do with this. I know my own mind.’

      Ed stares at me gravely for several seconds. I think then that he will tell me about the divorce, and the ‘somewhere’ child, and that maybe he isn’t ready yet for another relationship. Stuff like that. But instead he pulls me to him, and kisses me sweetly. Then he tells me, straight out, that he doesn’t have any condoms. I find this reassuring in one sense – that he really hasn’t planned this – although worrying in another. AIDS is in the news constantly these days. Don’t take the risk, they say, be safe not sorry. I could though, take a chance …

      ‘I am on the Pill,’ I tell him, ‘but…’

      ‘I’ve not been with anyone,’ he says, ‘since I split with my wife, a few months ago.’ There, I’ve told you, now, his eyes are saying.

      I give a tiny nod, and begin undoing the top button on my blouse. He takes off his belt, and unzips his fly. Slowly we undress, our mouths glued together, excitement building, then we fall onto the bed, its shiny satin cover momentarily cool on my bare flesh. Ed reaches down to caress me, gently at first and then more insistent, until I can hardly bear it. When he enters me his eyes

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