Chapter Five
Amber arrived on the fourth day, and from then on everything changed for me.
Paul had been sick for two nights in a row. It was like a conspiracy. Throughout the day he would just sit quietly, wincing whenever he moved and the tube he’d had inserted in his nose snagged on his nostril. Then at night it sounded like a pack of rabid dogs had taken up residence in his bed. Marc kept coming in to help him, but all night I could hear retching and the sound of liquids being sloshed about. Every once in a while it would seem like he’d settled. Then, just as I could feel myself nodding back to sleep, it would start again.
‘You’re all right. See it up, lad,’ I could hear Marc whisper as Paul groaned some more.
‘Sleep is vital to recovery,’ I told Mum. ‘If I can’t sleep then the whole thing is pointless. Can’t I get a private room? I think I’d handle this much better on my own.’
‘Nice to see your old spirit’s intact,’ Grandma said, chewing on one of the grapes she had brought for me, which she had monopolised and didn’t seem to be in the mood to share.
‘Fiona sent you this,’ Chris said, pulling out a copy of FHM. She’d Sellotaped a photograph of herself, giving two thumbs up, on to the model’s face. ‘She says she’ll come and visit you as soon as she’s back from her shoot in Milan.’
‘I think she could be a model,’ I said.
‘You don’t say?’
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