Next thing I knew, Raymond was there again, shaking me gently but insistently.
“Wake up, Eleanor,” he said. “It’s half past four. Time to go.”
We took the bus to Raymond’s flat. It was on the south side of the city, an area I didn’t know very well and had no cause to visit, as a rule.
His flatmates were out, I was relieved to learn, stumbling slightly as we entered the hallway and trying not to laugh.
He steered me in a very ungallant fashion into the living room, which was dominated by a huge television.
There were lots of what I assumed were game consoles scattered around in front of it.
Aside from the computer detritus, it was astonishingly tidy. “It doesn’t look like a place where boys live,” I said, surprised.
He laughed. “We’re not animals, Eleanor. I’m a dab hand with the Hoover, and Desi’s a bit of a neat freak, as it goes.”
I nodded, relieved to know as I sat down that nothing untoward would be adhering to my new dress and tights.
“Tea?” he said. “I don’t suppose you’ve got any vodka or Magners drink, by any chance?” I said.
He raised an eyebrow. “I’m absolutely fine now, after the sausage rolls and the catnap,” I said, and I was.
I felt floaty and clean, not intoxicated, just very pleasantly numbed to sharp feelings.
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