Fully English

CHAPTER 38

I return to the car to see George sitting in the front seat, the light from his phone luminescing his bright eyes. Just the sight of his unsuspecting face makes me want to run but I keep my cool, knock on the car window when I reach it and wait for him to let me in. Inside it is warm and I am immediately feel fuzzy.

"Hey baby," I say, take his face in my hands and kiss him straight on the lips.

He shivers and I forget that I am probably cold to the touch.

Right now it is dawn but the morning warmth hasn't yet set in so we are still icy.

"What took you so long?"

"It was urgent," I don't explain. "Family business."

"Yeah I saw an old woman coming from your house not long before you come out... is she your grandma or something?"

I realise he is referring to Shirley and bate my breath.

"Erm," I turn on the ignition to signal him to drive and put on my seatbelt. "I'll explain later."

We put on BBC Radio and listen for the morning news and weather updates as we cruise my old neighbourhood. Most of the newsagents aren't yet open but a few local supermarkets are beginning to switch on their lights and prepare for the day with fresh produce.

"Should we get breakfast?

I nod as we draw upon a McDonalds. "I'm also dying for a shower."

"Hmmm," George turns the corner away from the drive thru. "We can kill two birds with one stone."

I fear he wants to take me to his home and brace myself for his suggestion. "How?"

"Check into a hotel."

I glance at him for a second before turning back to the rad and considering it. It would be nice to get fresh and dine instead of grabbing a drive-along snack and trekking back to West Lincoln. Both of us were exhausted from the journey down here and it's clear, we were both in need of some rest.

"Okay."

We end up at a swanky inn and check into a deluxe suite for two. After being handed our key cards, we are escorted to a room on the top floor with a grandiose view. On the bed lies a fresh batch of towels and gowns, still warm from the dryer and information on the Wi-Fi and fire safety sits on a desk.

With no luggage to unload, we immediately kick off our shoes and split: I prepare myself a hot steaming shower and George strips off to go to sleep. By the time I am finished, George is lightly snoring, his phone in hand and bare chest on show on top of the duvet. Still dripping wet, I wrap the duvet around his body so he is covered and plant a wet kiss on his forehead.

Using the complimentary items from the bathroom, I moisturise and redress myself in another dressing gown to keep from wearing my old clothes. I hear George's lips smack in awakening just as I load my clothes in the laundry basket.

"What time is it?" He yawns.

"8am."

He has only been asleep for over an hour yet he seems to be revitalised already. "How long was I under?"

"For an hour," I laugh.

"Still on exam mode," he chuckles and rubs his eyes. "You smell good."

"Chamomile and lavender lotion," I point to the lotion on the desk and he throws me a thumbs up.

From his position on the bed, he watches as I wander around the room, spying the corners and moving things about so they suit my liking. Then with one leg on the bed, I reach for the remote and switch the television on. A Saturday morning cooking show fills the screen and we both pretend to care about the delicacies being made for a few minutes before George removes himself from the bed and blocks the screen.