Million Love Songs(90)

We clink mugs together.

As soon as we’ve knocked back the first mug, he tops us up from the teapot. The rum starts to numb my heart and loosen my tongue.

‘Why are you interested in me?’ I ask him.

‘Because you’re different, Brown,’ he says, thoughtfully. ‘You make me work hard for what little you dish out.’

I laugh out loud at that. ‘I came to Paris with you the minute you clicked your fingers.’

He frowns at me. ‘We got on OK there, didn’t we?’

‘Yeah.’ I shrug.

His frown deepens. ‘No matter what I do, I never feel that I get under your skin, Brown. Why do you keep me at arm’s length? What has Family Man got that I haven’t?’

‘Let’s not talk about him,’ I say, worried to hear that I’m already a bit slurry. I clink my mug against Mason’s. A bit too enthusiastically. Rum sloshes out on his jeans. He doesn’t even look perturbed, he just grins at me indulgently. ‘I drink to forget.’

‘And you will forget.’

‘Forget what?’ I quip, then laugh like a drain at my own wittiness. We drink more and more rum.

When there is nothing left in our teapot, Mason asks, ‘Feeling better?’

I shake my head. ‘No. Not really.’

‘We have to do it all over again then, Brown.’

So we go back to the dessert restaurant. This time I have Nutella pancakes smothered with chocolate sauce. Mason has toffee apple and pecan pie. When we’ve finished, we go back to the bar.

This time we share a Berry Big mojito which comes in something that looks like a flower vase. It’s certainly the size of one and it’s filled to overflowing with white rum, Chambord, muddled summer berries, mint and lime. If the teapot of rum wasn’t there already, it would go straight to my head. I’m struggling to sit upright on my bar stool and keep sliding off. I cackle away. It’s hilarious! Trust me.

‘Whoah, there!’ Mason catches me as I slide sideways once more. ‘Steady on, Brown.’

‘Sorry, sorry, sorry.’ I start giggling and can’t quite stop.

‘Tell me that this is helping you to forget him?’

‘Who?’ I say. ‘Forget who?’ And that sets me off cackling again, even though I’m sure I’ve heard it somewhere before. But soon I’m not laughing and seem to be crying. I wonder where Joe is now and what he’s doing. He’s at home in the bosom of his family while I’m here getting slaughtered with Shagger Soames and can’t even sit nicely on a bar stool.

‘Time to go home,’ Mason says and he helps me down off my stool as I don’t seem to have legs that work any more.

He drags me outside and, when the fresh air hits me, I collapse into a heap. Mason heaves me onto his shoulder and flags down a cab, then bundles me in. This is a nice feeling of oblivion. I have no sensation anywhere. I feel as if I’m floatingfloatingfloating.

I wake up as the cab stops outside my flat. I’m vaguely aware of Mason paying the driver but all I want is sleep, lovely sleep.

‘Where’s your key, Brown?’ Mason roots in my handbag. It’s in there somewhere, I’m sure. Eventually he says, ‘Ha!’ and then he starts to haul me up the stairs. ‘Bloody hell, woman. You’re like a sack of coal. Can’t you move at all?’

I’d like to respond, but it all seems too much trouble.

‘I think I may have overdone the drink element,’ Mason is muttering to no one in particular. He opens the door and then manhandles me into the granny annexe. ‘Straight to bed?’

I nod. ‘I want sex with you,’ I tell him.

‘You don’t,’ he says. ‘You want sex with anyone. That’s not the same.’

Even in my drunken state, I think he’s probably right.

So he picks me up and carries me through to the bedroom, kicking the door open. He dumps me on the bed and I land with an ‘oouff’.

He turns round and jumps when he sees my cardboard cut-out. ‘Jeez, Brown. That thing nearly gave me a heart attack.’

That makes me giggle.

‘I’m not even going to ask why you have a cardboard cut-out of a middle-aged man in your bedroom.’

‘Issssss Gary Barlow,’ I slur.

‘That still doesn’t explain it.’

I hold out my arms to Mason and he cuddles me. It feels nice to be in his arms, someone’s arms and I really would very much like sex. ‘Come to bed.’ I try to look alluring.

‘That’s terrifying,’ he says with a shake of his head. He prises me away from him and gets my duvet and tucks it around me. My eyes suddenly feel very heavy.

Mason sits beside me and strokes my hair tenderly. ‘Comfy?’

‘Thank you,’ I manage

‘Do you think you’re going to puke up?’

I shake my head and that does make me feel sick.

‘I’ll be right in the living room if you need me. Just shout.’

‘Don’t go,’ I say.

‘I’ll be here if you need me.’ He kisses my forehead. ‘Sleep tight, Ruby Brown.’

‘Night, Mason,’ I murmur back. And I think I’m asleep before he leaves the room.





Chapter Eighty-Five