Total pages in book: 100
Estimated words: 97364 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 487(@200wpm)___ 389(@250wpm)___ 325(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 97364 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 487(@200wpm)___ 389(@250wpm)___ 325(@300wpm)
“How’s Nellie?” Oscar asks the moment I walk in the door. He purchased himself a queen-sized bed that takes up half of the main room and a massage chair. My picnic chair rests against the wall, folded up. I like to go straight to my room when I return to my flat to avoid the Nellie talk he always wants to have.
“Married.”
Same question every day. Same answer.
“Now, Ruby … you said it yourself. They have an unconventional marriage. I think that means an open marriage.”
I stop before reaching my bedroom and turn on my heel. “No. Unconventional means Harold is a cunt and Nellie is suppressed from ever getting better because whatever made her this way seems to be quite top secret in that family. She’s so close to remembering. I can feel it. Something will jolt her memory at some point, but I don’t know what that will be.”
I scrape my teeth over my bottom lip. My curiosity and ‘need to know’ has been in overdrive for weeks. It’s not good. My body needs sleep, but between Nellie and Theo, I can’t seem to let my mind rest.
Oscar strokes his neatly-trimmed goatee. “Hmm … I can think of a way to maybe ‘jolt’ her.”
“No! You will keep your trouser snake in your trousers. Do you understand?”
“I can’t be responsible if she reaches for my knob—”
“Gross! Stop it. She won’t.”
His whole body shakes as he laughs. “I don’t know … that woman has a real fire in her belly … and maybe a bit lower—”
“Ahh!” I cover my ears and stomp into my bedroom, slamming the door behind me.
*
After a strong cup of chamomile tea and a double dose of valerian, I finally get to sleep. My dreams fill with Theo. Him emerging from the ocean. Him giving me that menacing scowl like he wants to eat me alive. And then … his mouth on me, my head thrown back while he actually eats me—”
“Ruby!”
I jump.
“Breakfast,” Oscar calls from the other room.
My heart pounds as I gasp for my next breath. “Oh god …” I whisper through my panting as I pull my hand out of my knickers. I’m a sweaty mess. This could have been embarrassing beyond words if Oscar would have opened my door to make his announcement.
Sleep masturbating without a lock on my door. Disastrous.
“Coming!” I yell then slap my hand over my mouth and giggle. “I mean … on my way,” I mutter to myself, rolling onto my stomach to bury my heat-stained face in my pillow. “Theo .. Theo … Theo … this … life … is no fun without you.”
I have a quick shower—a cold one—then peek into the kitchen, curious about breakfast made by a man who has no culinary skills.
“Good morning, Ruby.” Oscar’s back is to me, but he always knows when someone is behind him. I used to inspect the back of his head, quite certain he did have eyes back there. He turns. “How’s this?”
“Wow!” I take the tall glass of fresh-pressed carrot juice from him. How did I not hear the juicer running? Oh, that’s right—sleep masturbating. Bugger! I hope I didn’t make any noise. “Mmm … very good.”
He lifts a glass of amber liquid to his mouth.
“Tea?”
He shakes his head. “Bourbon.”
I glance at the clock on the microwave. “It’s not even seven, yet.”
“I’m on holiday.”
“Lucky you.”
“So, what are you and the lovely Nellie doing today?”
My narrowed gaze dares him to get any ideas. “The usual. Shopping and lunch.”
His casual nod puts me on guard. I can feel the cogs turning in his head and that’s not a good thing.
“I’m proud of you.”
“Oh?” I lick the juice from my lips.
“Yes. You didn’t let anyone tell you what to do. You went with your gut when you knew everyone around you would think you’d lost the plot.”
I shake my head. “I didn’t think I’d live. I didn’t think the cancer would go away. I just wanted to see if the suffering would be less than Sylvie’s.”
“And your mum’s?”
I shrug. “I don’t know. I can’t remember her suffering, but I suppose the answer is yes because I’ve seen it in your eyes for … ever.” I glance at the clock again.
“I have to go. Be good.”
“Yes, Mum.”
“Cheeky. But I’m serious.” I grab my rucksack.
“How’s the tire?”
I wink. “Perfect.”
Just another example of how Oscar Stone can be equally loving and infuriating. I told him I wanted to earn my own money to buy a car and instead of dismissing my wishes, like he’s done so much in the past, he settled for buying me a new tire for my bike. Not a new bike—just the tire.
*
It’s amazing how much shopping I do with Nellie, yet we rarely purchase anything. I think her subconscious knows that she has a wardrobe full of designer clothes on one side and secondhand bargains on the other side. She’s so close to making the connection.