To the Moon and Back

Chapter 38




Ellie slept again, waking up two hours later to the sound of Zack letting himself into the flat. God, brave of him to come back. So kind. A grateful tear squeezed out of the corner of her eye; when you felt this ill, it was so lovely not to feel abandoned and alone.

She probably needed a shower but that was impossible; the thought of drops of water pummeling her skin was too agonizing to contemplate. Ellie prayed she didn’t smell.

But when he came into the bedroom with a can of Sprite and a pink bendy straw so she didn’t spill it down her front, Zack didn’t appear to be holding his breath. Maybe she was OK. He did her pillows again, smoothed out the duvet, and re-tucked the corners of the bottom sheet that with all her tossing and turning had come untucked.

‘It’s dark outside.’ The Sprite, ice-cold and delicious, soothed her burning throat.

‘Ten o’clock. Time for more Ibuprofen.’ He popped them out of their foil packet and handed them over before tearing the perforated cardboard oval from the lid of the new box of Kleenex. ‘Can you manage anything to eat?’

Ellie closed her eyes, contemplated food, shook her head. ‘No thanks. Not hungry. This Sprite is perfect.’

‘Good. Now, do you want to lie on the sofa and watch TV for a bit?’

Television. Needing to concentrate. Having to keep her eyes open. ‘I think I’m too tired.’

‘OK, you go back to sleep. I’ve brought my laptop with me. I’m going to do some work for the next couple of hours. If you need anything, just give me a shout.’

‘You don’t need to stay. I’ll be fine.’

‘You might be fine. But what if you’re not? Look, it’s not a problem. It makes no difference to me whether I’m working here or at home. And just so you know, there are plenty more Sprites in the fridge.’

So kind, so thoughtful. And he didn’t need to be doing any of this. Ellie turned onto her side and drifted off again, comforted by the knowledge that there was someone else in the flat, for the time being at least.

It was four thirty when she next came to, nudged into semi consciousness by her bladder. For several seconds she couldn’t work out if it was morning or afternoon. Right, still dark outside, that had to mean morning. Blurrily she felt her way out of bed and across the room to the en-suite. That was better. OK, now she was upright, how about a trip to the kitchen for another cold Sprite?

Shuffling along the hallway she saw the living-room door was ajar and prodded it open. The lights were low and Zack’s laptop stood open on the coffee table. Zack was stretched across the sofa, fast asleep.

Fuzzy-headed and weak-limbed though she was, Ellie couldn’t stop looking at him; it was literally impossible to tear her gaze away. She’d never seen Zack sleeping before. In the warm glow of the table lamp his face was relaxed, softened. His dark lashes cast shadows beneath his eyes and his cheekbones were enhanced. There was stubble on his chin. He was lying on his back with his feet crossed at the ankles and one hand resting on his chest. His breathing was even. Best of all, he wasn’t making a sound.

A non-snorer. Always nice to know.

OK, stop that. You’re ill.

Ellie turned away and headed for the kitchen. He’d done a good job on the floor; it wasn’t slippy at all. Feeling more awake now, and fractionally better than before, she opened the fridge and took out another can of Sprite. It took three goes to get the ringpull off. Zack had also bought yogurts, strawberry mousses, jellies, and various bottles of freshly squeezed juice. Her stomach growled; she hadn’t eaten anything for over twenty-four hours. She closed the fridge and left the kitchen, unable to resist another peep into the living room on her way back to bed.

But this time Zack’s eyes were open, her fridge investigation evidently having woken him up. He turned his head to look at her and said sleepily, ‘You were supposed to give me a shout. I’d have got that for you.’

‘It’s OK, I needed a wee anyway.’ Oh God, I can’t believe I just said that.

‘How are you feeling?’

Ellie hung on to the door. ‘Embarrassed that I just said wee in front of my boss.’

He laughed. ‘Don’t be. It’s what all my sisters say. I’m quite used to it.’

‘I thought you’d gone home ages ago.’

‘I’m not fussy where I sleep. This is a comfortable sofa. You’re looking a bit better.’

‘That’s hard to believe.’ Ellie raked her fingers through her hair. Glancing down, she double-checked that the nightie came to just above her knees. That was OK; she didn’t want to give him an inadvertent flash of her pink knickers. If she’d realized he was still here, she would have put on a dressing gown. But it was too late now, he’d seen her in her deeply unglamorous nightwear and bare legs.

Zack stretched and sat up. ‘Is there anything else you want?’

She hesitated. After so much sleep she was actually feeling a tiny bit better. ‘Maybe… could you do, um… cheese on toast?’

Zack grinned. He rose and pointed to the sofa. ‘Here, you sit down. Are you asking me if I know how to make cheese on toast?’

She managed a brief smile in return. ‘It’s OK if you don’t. Just Shredded Wheat would be fine.’

Ellie sat with her feet up on the sofa, her head resting on the cushions Zack’s own head had rested against minutes before. It was silent outside the flat. Here they were in the middle of the night and it felt as if they were the only two people awake in Primrose Hill.

Then Zack came back with two plates of cheese on toast, grilled to perfection. He’d cut hers into strips to make them easier to eat. He’d also made himself a cup of strong black coffee. Together in the living room they shared a mini picnic in weirdly companionable near silence. When the toast was finished, Zack brought her a strawberry mousse. Somewhere in the distance a siren wailed. As dawn broke, birds began to sing to each other in the trees at the back of the house. Car sounds started up. Ellie’s eyelids grew heavy and the exhaustion overtook her once more. From what felt like a great distance she was aware of Zack adjusting the sofa cushions to make her more comfortable. It was like being five years old again, cared for and cosseted. Her head was pounding but it didn’t matter. She smiled and murmured, ‘That feels nice… you’re so lovely…’

***

…And awake again, hours later, with a start. Still on the sofa, alone in the flat and suffering the most hideous of flashbacks.

That feels nice… you’re so lovely…

Oh God, had she really said that? Had those words actually come out of her mouth whilst she’d been in her enfeebled, almost-asleep state? She hadn’t meant to say them, had possibly thought that it had felt lovely and he had been so nice, but it had all got hopelessly muddled en route from her brain and she’d never intended him to hear any of it anyway.

Investigating some more, Ellie discovered she was wrapped in her duvet; at some stage Zack must have fetched it from the bedroom and covered her with it. And there on the coffee table, secured by her phone, was a note in his distinctive handwriting:

Morning. How are you feeling? I’ve gone to take Elmo for his walk and catch up on some paperwork. Back by eleven at the latest. Anything you need, just give me a call.





See you soon,





Z.





The Z ended with a little squiggle that might or might not have been a cross, a cartoon fish, or a kiss. Ellie found herself concentrating on it, studying it, trying to work out which of these he could have meant it to be. OK, stop it and get a grip, he hadn’t written her a love note. It was just a squiggle.

Also on the coffee table was her alarm clock, the packet of Ibuprofen, a glass of water, and another unopened can of Sprite. He’d thought of everything. After her inane burblings last night it was a wonder there wasn’t a straitjacket.

Ellie swallowed the painkillers and drank some water. Everything still hurt and dozing off again was a tempting option. But it was nine thirty, Zack could be back in an hour, and she needed to get clean.

The water hit her skin like bullets, the pain was intense, and she hadn’t realized standing up in the shower could be such hard work. Even lifting her arms to shampoo her hair was exhausting…

Right, concentrate, just get through it, let the shower rinse out the shampoo. Her legs were feeling weak and the heat of the water was making her head muzzy… oh, and now there were dots dancing in front of her eyes, this wasn’t good, dots getting bigger… OK, out of here, sit down before you fall down… oof.

***

‘Oh God, how did this happen? What did you do?’ Zack was looking at her in horror.

Ellie told herself it could have been worse. She might have been knocked out completely. Zack could have let himself back into the flat and found her lying in a wet naked heap on the bathroom floor. At least she was wearing her dressing gown and had made it back to the safety of the sofa.

‘I fainted in the shower. Well, half out of the shower.’ She pressed the handful of tissues to her temple; the bump had swollen to impressive proportions but the bleeding, thankfully, had almost stopped. ‘I hit my head on the edge of the radiator. It’s OK, I don’t need stitches or anything.’

Zack closely inspected the injury. ‘I think we’ll get a second opinion on that. I can’t believe you thought having a shower was a good idea. For crying out loud, you’ve got the flu.’

‘Sorry. I just wanted to feel better.’

‘And didn’t that work well. You could have cracked your skull open. Right, that’s it, I’m not leaving you here on your own again.’

‘It’s OK, I promise I won’t have any more showers.’

He probably wouldn’t want to know this, and she wouldn’t dream of telling him, but he was gorgeous when he was exasperated. Ellie lay back as he disappeared into the kitchen, and listened to the rattley noises emanating from the freezer.

He returned moments later with a packet of frozen sweet corn wrapped in a clean tea towel. ‘Here, don’t move, let me do it. You’re as white as a sheet.’

‘Are you always this bossy?’ She closed her eyes as the icy parcel covered the egg-sized lump on her temple.

‘Always.’

‘But you can’t stay here all the time.’

‘I know. But you need looking after.’ Zack wiped a trickle of water away from her neck. ‘That’s why you’re coming back to Ancram Street with me.’

***

Zack brought his car round, double-parking it outside the flat and not even allowing her to make her own way down the staircase. Instead, he lifted her up and carried her in his arms.

Who said the flu didn’t have its compensations?

‘I feel like I’m being kidnapped.’ God, it felt fantastic. Ellie had to keep her eyes averted in case he could tell what was going through her mind.

‘Can’t have you falling down the stairs and breaking your neck.’ Zack’s tone was brusque. He was just being practical. Her head felt like a bowling ball; it was a struggle to keep it upright. Giving in, Ellie rested it against his shoulder. That was even better. The sensation of his soft cotton shirt against her hot cheek was just blissful.

‘I hope I’m not heavy.’

‘You’re fine. We’re almost there. Mind your feet.’ He reached the downstairs hallway and maneuvered her with care out through the door.

Two minutes later they arrived at Ancram Street and the process was repeated in reverse. Ellie closed her eyes, remembering the time after their wedding when Jamie had ceremoniously carried her over the threshold of the Hammersmith flat. He’d pretended to buckle under her weight, she’d jabbed him in the ribs, and they’d ended up laughing so much he’d almost dropped her.

OK, don’t think about it. She didn’t have the energy to get emotional now. She was carried over a whole different class of threshold and up the stairs. Past the living room. Along the corridor and through the door at the end.

Twenty minutes later there was a knock at the door, then it was pushed open.

‘Only me.’ Geraldine came in, leaning on her walking stick. ‘Oh, my darling, you do look poorly. Zack asked me to come and check you over. That’s a pretty impressive bump you have on your head there.’

Ellie was wiped out. She allowed herself to be examined. Zack’s spare room was all pale green and white with a summery feel and billowing leaf-green curtains. The queen-sized bed was comfortable. Her temple throbbed. She said, ‘I’m being a real nuisance, aren’t I?’

‘Not your fault, is it? OK, all done. Nothing sinister. Just rest and keep up the fluids. You’ll be feeling better soon.’

‘Poor Zack, being landed with me.’

‘Some people like having someone to look after. It brings out the best in them. And it’s nice to see Zack like this.’ Geraldine waggled her eyebrows. ‘I always think a good bedside manner is a lovely attribute in a man.’