The Love of My Afterlife(22)

“Bye then!” I call out, but Aled doesn’t leave.

“Wait. Do you have stairs, Delphie?”

“Just a single flight. I’ll be fine.” I wave him off.

He pulls a face. “In the book we discussed at club tonight, the first murder victim was pushed down the stairs and the police didn’t even investigate it because she was an enormous pisshead like you.”

I muffle a tiny burp. “If I let you in, you could murder me.”

Aled laughs at the idea, and I notice that when he laughs he does so with his whole body. “Imagine. I’m not the type. I’m a vegan.”

I’m not sure how that reasoning adds up, but I agree that he doesn’t look the type. And even if he did murder me, Merritt would probably send me back down to Earth again to humiliate me for her own amusement.

I knock on the front door before remembering that I have some keys because I live here.

“Give me your keys, love,” Aled chuckles. I root around in my purse and hand them over.

He unlocks the door, and I bumble into the lobby. We must be making an almighty racket, because Cooper pops his head out of his apartment door. His hair is wet from the shower, and he’s wearing a dazzling white towelling robe, like someone from a spa. How does he keep his robes so white? Mine always go grey no matter how much Daz I use. Cooper steps out into the lobby.

I wave my hand vaguely. “Sorry! Sorry for the disturbance, Despicable Cooper!”

“Hello there,” he says, moving at a weirdly speedy pace out into the corridor. He manoeuvres himself in front of Aled. “We haven’t met.” His voice sounds deeper than usual.

“I’m Aled. Your local enormous pisshead delivery service,” Aled tells Cooper cheerily, dropping the keys back into my hands.

“Do you know this man?” Cooper squats down and locks onto my eyes in a strangely intense way.

It dawns on me that he thinks I’m so drunk that Aled might be about to take advantage of me in some way. It needles me that he thinks I can’t look after myself just because I’ve had a few very potent cocktails.

I lift my chin. “Actually yes. This is Aled, my best friend and confidant,” I tell Cooper, a huge hiccup punctuating the end of my sentence. “I know him very well. Very well indeed.”

“Oh, blimey!” Aled says. “Well, this is unexpected. I have many friends but not a best one at the moment.” He appears to consider something briefly. “Okay…I accept. Best friends it is. We’ll confirm tomorrow when you’re not so sozzled. You might have changed your mind by then. That’s happened to me once before, sadly. But if you still feel the same way tomorrow, then I accept.”

Cooper looks incredulously at Aled and then at me and then back at Aled again.

“You didn’t find Jonah?” Cooper takes my arm and steadies me up the stairs to my flat, while Aled watches us from the bottom step.

“Nope. It was the wrong guy. His eyes were too close together.”

“Ooh, who is Jonah?” Aled calls up.

“You didn’t tell your best friend about Jonah?” Cooper asks as I, after two failed attempts, eventually manage to slot my key into my door lock.

“Jonah is the missing person I was telling you about,” I hiss to Aled.

“Oh yes, you poor love. No wonder you’ve been drinking like a fish. The stress of a missing loved one is so much to bear.”

“Loved one?” Cooper makes a face. “I thought Jonah was—”

Yikes. “Yes, yes,” I interrupt. “Here we are! Home at last. Aah, it’s good to be back. Lovely indeed, home is where the heart is!”

I turn to say good night, when I see Aled staring up at Cooper through narrowed eyes. “You look very familiar,” he muses. “Do I know you?”

“I’m certain you don’t,” Cooper replies curtly. Then without so much as a goodbye or a backward glance, he spins on his heel and hurries back down the stairs, whizzing past Aled and back to his own flat.

“Maybe he just has one of those faces,” Aled remarks.

“A despicable one, you mean.”

“Oh, I’d say it was quite delightful. Brooding, like if Timothée Chalamet—”

“Had an arsehole brother!” I finish with a giggle.

“Exactly!” Aled grins and leans against the bottom of the banister. “You’ll be okay from here, yes? Because I really am exhausted. But I will contact you tomorrow about the best friends thing. To see if you still feel the same way.”

I nod, safe in the knowledge that Aled does not have my phone number and that there is a drop-off box outside of the library so that I needn’t ever see him again. “Absolutely. Thanks very much for the assist.”

“Of course.”

I shut the door behind me and take five steps through the open bedroom door towards my bed, where I sort of splat down, my face in between two pillows. I fall asleep in less than a minute.





12





It’s already day three. I wake up sweating after a terrible dream in which Gen and Ryan beat me up with a pair of Sennheiser microphones and livestream the whole thing on YouTube.

“That’s so dark, Delphie,” I mutter to myself, sitting up and thus initiating the horrendous sensation of my brain trying to escape my skull via my eyeballs. I pick up my phone to check the time. Five a.m.? Gross.