After the singing and then some pudding, the evening was nothing but a series of unfortunate - for Billie - events. First, the twins started falling asleep in random spots around the sitting room; and Clem and Rhys took them upstairs to a guest bedroom. He and Viola started getting ready to leave, their triplets were at Sam Holyoake's. Ulla and Oliver joined them; they couldn't stay for long, they'd left their child with a sitter for the first time. Since Lily needed to be taken home as well, there was no more room in the car. Billie picked up her mobile to call herself a cab, which was met with an outburst of protests. Dair was the only one who didn't reject the idea outright, but he insisted on paying for her ride. Rhys started saying he'd come back and drive Billie home. The vicar said he'd walk so Billie could take his spot. Billie was getting a strong 'Baby, It's Cold Outside' vibe from her situation.
And then Nana Holyoake postulated that Billie was staying over in a guest bedroom; and suddenly everyone was saying cordial goodbyes. Jackets rustled, doors banged; and suddenly everyone but Billie, Dair, Clem, and Nana, was gone.
Nana left Clem to look after Billie, kissed everyone's cheeks, and ascended to the first floor with dignity. Clem explained to Billie that accidental plus-ones at the cottage were no rarity; and that Billie would find anything she might need, including pyjamas and a new toothbrush, in the closet or in the ensuite of the second guest bedroom. Something in the writer's tone felt off, but she had to hurry upstairs to check on her children, so Billie had no choice but to accept it and to head to the kitchen to join Dair for the washing up they'd been tasked with. The man was meticulously loading the dishwasher. Billie helped as much as she could.
When she stifled her fifth jaw-breaking yawn, he chuckled.
"Why d-don't you go to bed, cara? I'll finish here, and then head to the Hall."
"No, no, that's not fair," Billie mumbled. "I will– I'll get the rest of the cups from–"
She wobbled, and Dair's palm lay on her shoulder steadying her. Billie rocked forward and bumped her forehead into him.
"C'mon, polpetta, time for some kip," he said tenderly.
Billie made a protesting noise and wrapped her arms around him. Obviously, she was simply trying to make sure that he'd let her stay! It had nothing to do with the heat as if radiating from him, and how he smelled of satsumas and humbugs!
"Aren't you quite a coccolona all of a sudden?" His palm lay on the back of her neck; the other one on her shoulder blades; and he started walking her backwards. "Alright, let's just come here," he murmured, manoeuvring her.
Something - the sofa, as it turned out - cut her under her knees, and Billie heavily dropped her backside on it.
"How about you stay here for a bit, polpetta?"
"But just for a bit, yeah?" Billie slurred - and slumped sideways.
***
"Billie, amore, you can't sleep on the sofa." Dair's smoky baritone teased her ear; and Billie smiled, half in her sleep.
'Rush onward with uninterrupted sweep; A voice out of the silence of the deep, / A sound mysteriously multiplied / As of a cataract from the mountain's side.'
"Cara, can you get up, or would you like me to carry you?"
Billie didn't find out what her presently somnambulating self answered - but soon she was flying; and then she sank into a cloud of fresh, pleasantly cool sheets.
***
And then she was sharply awake, her heart thrashing in her throat - and she shot up, like a wind-up tin chicken toy.
As snobbish, elitist, and unbending as Billie was in her choice of reading material, even she wasn't fully ignorant of the tropes of romance fiction - which she didn't read, thank you very much - and their even more convoluted, unrealistic, and rebarbative versions that one could find in the subpar sort of graphomaniac efforts people on the Internet had the nerve to call 'fan-fiction.'
And yet, here she was, smack dab in the middle of the most preposterous of them - the one commonly named 'There Is Only One Bed.'
Dair was sprawled next to her on the king-size bed, a barrier of pillows and cushions built between them. Billie was lying over the bedspread, covered with a quilt, still dressed in her yesterday's outfit minus her shoes - she'd jerked the blanket up and checked then and there, of course. Meanwhile, Dair was under the duvet. She could see his upper body, but he now had a soft light grey tee on, as opposed to the white button-up and the cardigan he'd sported last night.
The set-up obviously didn't leave any space for all those rubbish sister-tropes from the harlequin fiction; such Billie as clutching the cover to her chest, mortified by what could've happened the night before - but the question of what to do next remained. She looked around the small, cosy bedroom, with its floral wallpaper and antique furniture, including a charming vanity and a massive armoire. A Japanese vase lamp on the bedside table gave everything a muted pink tinge. Billie threw a panicked glance at her Mother's watch on her wrist. It was quarter past three, which was to be expected. While her Aunts claimed that Billie's almost nightly trips to the loo between three and four at night were her psyche trying to connect with the spirit world, Billie herself dismissed the notion of a 'witching hour' and meant to - and kept forgetting to - buy some melatonin supplements.
"You s-said it was OK to stay," Dair said in a completely sober voice and opened his eyes.
A choked cluck erupted out of Billie, and she clasped her hand over her mouth.
She doubted he'd lie; but how muddled she must have been to suggest to share the bed with the man?! She hadn't had that much wine; but she'd been physically and emotionally exhausted. And hadn't he been planning to go back to the Bjornssons'?
"Um– Bathroom! Yes, yes, that's what I need! Bathroom!" she squeaked, rolled off the bed, and dashed to a door in the opposite corner of the room.
She tugged, but it resisted.
"That's the l-landing," Dair deadpanned and pointed at the second door.
Thankfully, the ensuite had all the amenities in it; so Billie didn't have to venture out of the room in search of a loo. Just as Clem had said, in a tall cupboard, Billie found a new toothbrush, and a large t-shirt, possibly identical to the one Dair was wearing; as well as an assortment of skincare products of travel size; and even several unopened multipacks of cotton knickers of different sizes.
Is this some sort of a bizarre 'dowry' for each Holyoake who brings a paramour over?! Like Circe's cheese and honey that ensnare you and keep you on her island?
Billie decided to give Dair plenty of time to go back to sleep; so she stripped and climbed into the stylish roll top bath.
After a thorough wash, she donned the tee and clean knickers, and tightly wrapped in a thick soft robe. She opened the door a crack - and stared at Dair, reclining on the bed, his head propped on his palm, his eyes trained on the bathroom door.
"Oh," Billie exhaled. "Um... Sorry. Did I wake you up? Was I too noisy?"
"No," he answered, watching her. "I'm an insomniac, and my m-meds are back in the Hall."
Billie edged into the room. "Sorry to hear that."
He shrugged. "C-comes with the territory. All 'Olyoakes are."
His accent seemed stronger, and his voice sounded gruffer. Billie assumed it was sleep deprivation. She slid under the duvet on her side of the bed.
"L-light on or off?" he asked.
"Off, please."
The switch clicked, and she released a relieved exhale. It was easier to think when she knew that he couldn't see her dishevelled hair and her lardy torso in an unflattering flour sack of a shirt.
They lay in silence for a few minutes; and then Billie realised that her whole body was as tense as Queen Hermione of Sicily. Her vision had adjusted by then; and she stealthily craned her neck and peeked from behind a velveteen cushion. Dair lay on his back, one arm behind his head, one large hand relaxed on his solar plexus. His eyes were trained on the ceiling - and then his chest rose in a deep slow inhale; and then a soft sigh slightly parted his lips.
Just as all those years ago.
***
The Musketeers were cooped up in the St. Gervais bastion, and Athos had just offered the advancing troops to join them for breakfast. Billie was getting more and more excited, her voice ringing - and she looked up from the page and their eyes met. Just as always, the boy sitting at her feet grinned at her.
When it was time to finish and go home, she closed the book and realised that he wasn't looking at her. His shoulders rose in a distressed gesture, and he gave out a long morose sigh.
"N-non– n-non voglio l-lasciarti..." He glanced at her askance and rubbed his eye under the lens covered with a patch. "B-billie."
Her name sounded almost cute when he drew it out like that.
"I don't understand Italian, yeah?" Billie reminded him.
He nodded and sighed again.
***
She told herself that it was her duty of care to speak up in this situation - and it had nothing to do with how much less intimidating he seemed at the moment, in this strange intimate 'bubble' they were in.
It still took her a moment to gather her courage.
"I know a way to help you sleep," she said, keeping her tone nonchalant.
Dair jolted and whipped his face towards her. To see him better, she grabbed one of the cushions and lobbed it to the floor.
"There's something we can do to help you to fall asleep," she clarified and threw him a defiant glare.
In the pale light of the streetlamp, his face was a jigsaw puzzle of shadows and light; and she found it even harder to read his expression.
After all, just as she'd told Nana Holyoake earlier that night, the Power Over Children and Animals, with the Exception of Cats, Canadian Geese, and Non-Venomous Snakes wasn't Billie's original Harewicke gift. It was her inheritance after her Mother's untimely passing.
Putting Someone to Sleep by Lightly Stroking Any Part of Their Anatomy for Longer than 4.67 minutes - was.
"B-but– D-davvero?" His tone was shocked.
"Give me your hand," Billie said and opened her palm on the sheet between their pillows.
He hesitated but obeyed. His skin was scorching, and Billie's fingers curled around his almost without her will. She gave his hand a small tug, suggesting he moved closer; and he shifted under the duvet - and his second hand snaked towards Billie, and then around her waist.
Billie gasped; Dair pulled - and caught her mouth in an intense kiss.