Davy wasn’t in my bed when I awoke at 6.30 in the morning. He had gone to work, probably. He often had early morning personal training sessions. Maybe he hadn’t wanted to wake me. Or maybe he regretted what had happened. Maybe I did too, though it hadn’t felt like a mistake at the time. Being with Davy had felt natural. And something else, something I couldn’t identify. I stretched myself full length, arms above my head, and let out a moan. How was I going to get any work done today?
‘Finally you’ve stopped snoring,’ Davy said.
He was standing in the doorway. He had his phone in his hand and, though I couldn’t see his face, his body was lit by the phone’s glow. He was naked.
‘I don’t snore,’ I said, and threw a pillow at him. He sidestepped it easily.
‘Pathetic effort,’ he said. ‘Anyway, how do you know you don’t snore?’
He jumped back into bed beside me.
‘So I’ve just cancelled my 6.30 and 7.30 clients but I have to teach a circuits class at 9.00. Can you think of anything we could do to pass the time?’
‘How about a game of Trivial Pursuit?’ I said.
As we lingered at the table after breakfast, I explained, withholding names and all identifying information, that I was working on a case that involved a hurt being done to a young girl over ten years before.
‘Some kind of abuse, you mean?’
‘Something like that,’ I said. ‘You know I can’t tell you.’
I could have said more, but more revelations might have led to more questions.
‘I know,’ he said. ‘I do understand. You’ll get there, I know you will.’
‘I hope so.’
‘When we were out at Muskerry Castle, was that to do with this case?’
‘It was.’
‘I’m feeling really bad about all that now.’
He wrinkled his nose.
‘I thought we were … I mean, if you’d said it was a work thing, I’d still have gone, of course I would’ve. But when I realised it wasn’t what I thought it was, I felt, I dunno …’
‘Used?’
‘I wouldn’t put it as strongly as that, in all fairness. Don’t beat yourself up about it, please. Most of this is down to me, how I handle it when shit happens. Which has always been badly. Disastrously, in fact, as you know.’
‘I do.’
He laughed.
‘You needn’t have agreed so readily,’ he said.
We both smiled and said nothing for a while. Then Davy spoke again.
‘Anyway, what I’m saying is that I ran for the hills, when I should’ve stayed and talked it through. Since I’ve been in treatment I’ve been trying to do things differently. But it’s not always easy. On Sunday, I reacted. Badly. Like a fucking arsehole.’
I laughed.
‘Fucking arsehole is a bit strong.’
‘Is it?’ he said. ‘I don’t know. Anyway, what do we do now?’
‘About what?’
‘About us.’
‘You’re asking me?’
‘Yeah, I am. Like, what was that, last night? And this morning?’
‘It just happened, I suppose, I mean …’
‘A case of, you could resist my charms no longer and just had to fuck my brains out?’
‘That’s kinda true, actually,’ I said.
Davy reached across the table and took my hand.
‘You know, in rehab they tell us not to get into relationships until we’re, not recovered exactly, we never recover fully, but until we’re secure in our new way of life. A lot of people ignore the advice.’
‘Yeah. AA seems to be Cork’s top dating agency, as far as I can see.’
‘Exactly,’ Davy said. ‘For a lot of people. Not me. I haven’t exactly been a monk …’
I laughed.
‘Okay, okay. I know what you think about me and the yummy mummies. But I haven’t been in a relationship since I left Tabor Lodge four years ago. Haven’t felt ready, I s’pose, but now, this thing with us …’
I wrenched my hand away, leapt up from the table, and grabbed my coat.
‘I totally agree. We’re not relationship material. Last night was great, but it’s not to be repeated. We’re friends, Davy, nothing more. Take your time, finish your coffee. Pull out the door after you when you’re leaving. I’ve got to run.’