as they struggled to focus, my breath forming a screen on the pane in front of me.
Using my thumb, I smeared the condensation away. As if sensing my movement, his face flicked up at me.
‘Fuck.’ I pulled back.
The buzzer sounded again. I couldn’t let him see me like this, but what choice did I have? Besides, I had already made the decision as I moved across the room towards the door. Pressing my hand against my thigh, I leaned forward into the mouthpiece, pressing the button before I could change my mind.
‘Hello?’
‘Anna?’
My palms were prickling. My face, in the reflection of the screen on the intercom, was hollowed out, and tacky with sweat.
‘It’s Harry.’ There was a pause, and then, ‘It’s bloody cold out here – are you going to let me in?’
My finger hovered for a moment over the button, before pressing down again.
‘What are you watching?’ Before I had time to fully register his presence, he was moving across the room as if being here was the most natural thing in the world.
‘A film.’ I turned to the counter, pulling desperately at my hair, twisting it into a bun.
‘You alone?’
‘Yeah.’
It was too late to turn away, to shield him from the circles under my eyes, the unwashed skin.
‘Would you like tea?’
He nodded, his eyes smiling. ‘You feel like shit, right?’
‘I don’t know what happened, I’m not usually—’
‘Course you’re not.’ His laugh was familiar. ‘I’m just glad you’re OK. That’s what I came to check. The club, I couldn’t find you anywhere and then I saw Meg and she said you weren’t well and had to go home and …’
The moment our eyes locked there was a rush through my body and I instantly felt like a fool for imagining whatever it was I had imagined might have happened between him and Meg in the time that they were lost in the club.
He settled himself on the sofa as my grip tightened slightly around the handle of the kettle.
‘How did you know where I lived?’
‘You pointed it out last night, on the way back from the pub.’
‘Really?’ It was unlike me to forget things. Besides, everything else from the night before remained clear, before the club. Or did it? How would I know – was it possible to intuit where the holes in your memory lay? Harry’s claims were hardly surprising given the number of shots we’d consumed at the bar. Something about his presence had lured me into a state of off-guardedness, my usual restraint failing to kick in. The drinks had been endless, David galvanised by the presence of another male into buying round after round, each more elaborate than the last. If nothing else, this was a lesson. Or fate, perhaps. If I hadn’t passed out, would Harry have been here now? At the time, the thought struck me as reassuring.
He took the cup of tea I had made for him from my hand and our fingers touched.
‘Have you eaten?’
‘I still feel pretty sick.’
‘You’ve got to eat.’ He stood up straight, pulling his wallet from his pocket. ‘And have a drink. Trust me, it will make you feel better.’ He winked, taking a sip of his tea and passing it back to me.
‘I’ll be back in ten, buzz me in?’
I watched him pull the door closed behind him, and it was all I could do not to scream.
‘So how’s work?’
The question came out before I realised what I was saying. We were facing each other on the sofa, the box of pizza wedged between us, a half bottle of brandy on the coffee table, alongside the mug of hot chocolate he had stirred it into at first, to soften the impact.
Harry’s face straightened all of a sudden, and he shrugged. ‘Ah, you know …’
It was silly to imagine he would want to go into the details of his being fired with a relative stranger, yet I could not help feeling disappointed at his lack of confidence.
Sighing gently, he placed a half-eaten slice of Margherita back on the box, taking a swig of his drink. ‘Well, if you really want to know, I’ve been sacked.’
He continued chewing, his eyes locking on mine, and I held my body straight.
‘Are you serious?’
‘Deadly.’
‘When?’
A half-smile appeared on his face.
‘The day before I met you guys, believe it or not. That’s why I was … You know, shit-faced, on my own … That’s not my usual style, I’ll have you know. I had come in for a meeting with the editor, trying to get my job back, but what can I say, the man’s a prick. Still, he ran my story the same day though, didn’t he? Not too moral to miss out on a final scoop …’
He shrugged again, taking another bite of pizza.
‘What happened?’
He paused then, as if he had changed his mind. For an alarming moment I thought he was going to stand, but he simply lifted an arm to his cheek for a moment before carrying on.
‘That story, the one about the undercover charity investigation? One of the protestors I embedded myself with is claiming we were in a relationship.’
There was an authority to his delivery that dampened the shock.
‘OK.’
‘Well, it might have been, except it turns out she was fifteen at the time.’
His words hung in the air.
‘The time of what?’
‘There’s a photo, she says it shows us “being intimate”. I mean, Jesus, it’s nothing. I’ve seen it, we’re just talking. But she says it was more than that. Her parents, they threatened the paper, said if I wasn’t disciplined, they’d take the case to court. It would be my word against theirs, but apparently that doesn’t mean anything. With things the way they are in the industry, there isn’t the kind of cash needed to defend a law case. And, like I said, the editor’s an arse. He had been looking for an excuse to get rid of me …’
Harry’s face lifted suddenly, turning, his eyes narrowing. ‘Shit, I don’t know why I told
