'Sorry I had to bother you, Lynn. But the tape's stuck. I'm afraid I'll tear it if I pull it out.' Lily showed Lynn the mess she'd made of the tape recorder.

'You could get them digitalized, you know.' Lynn said disapprovingly, watching the old fashioned device.

'Maybe.' Lily said. She didn't know why, but somehow she was fond of the old thing. She loved watching the spools revolving while listening to her poets.

'I don't think you will. Look, I'll call David. He's perfect for this job. And you look like you need a spot of lunch.'

They found an empty table in the canteen. Lily had a coffee.

Lynn had bought sandwiches and a small salad. 'You should eat.'

'I had a large breakfast.' Lily lied. The eggs and toast had grown cold. Mitchell had changed her mind about breakfast.

'I knew it.' Lynn said. 'He's back, isn't he? You don't hear from him for weeks and suddenly he's back, and instead of speaking your mind your knees go liquid and you fall for him again.' She sounded bitter.

'It's not like that. He's been ill.' Lily protested.

'That's what he said? You shouldn't believe anything a man says just because he's got nice eyes and a yummy body. Well, it's bound to be a yummy body, cause you've got 'shag' written all over you.'

Two students with trays who were just passing had overheard Lynn and giggled.

'They say good sex is healthy.' Lily said and drank from her coffee.

'Yeah, if you don't get Chlamydia or aids. And if he doesn't dump you afterwards and calls you a slut in front of all his friends.' Lynn said angrily.

'Is everything alright between you and Mike?' Lily asked.

'Mike's a wanker. But as long as he's my bloody wanker I'll manage, thank you. But my period's late and I can't help thinking – never mind.' Lynn pushed her food away and said: 'Tell me all about him, so I can decide if he's good for you.'


He emptied the plates and placed them in the sink. He threw his stinking clothes into Lily's laundry basket, on top of her underwear. He watched TV for a bit, but there was nothing on that interested him. He paced up and down the living room, restless. Now that he was no longer ill he needed action. Preferable by spending more time with Lily, but she was at work and would be gone for a long time.

By now Herrick would wonder what had happened to him. It might be wise to go and reassure him. Even though he was bound to start talking about Bristol again. He found a spare key in a drawer, put on his boots and coat, and went out to see the man he 'd be connected to for the rest of time, whether he liked it or not.


'You disappoint me, Mitchell. Robbing innocent people from their donor blood? I guess that might have been an interesting experience. Stomach turning, to be precise. You're such a fool sometimes. Why do you always make things so hard? Mel told me about that girl. Practically a hermit, she tells me, ready for the taking, and you turn that down? Mel's really not amused, and I can't say I blame her. I suppose she'll feed on the bitch herself one of these days, but still. No way tot turn down a gift. Not the polite thing to do. What the hell's wrong with you?'

Herrick kept ranting, but Mitchell hardly listened. The only words that had registered were 'she'll feed on the bitch herself' – would she? No, he didn't think so. If she'd really wanted to, Mel would have done so a long time ago. But the idea made him feel uncomfortable. Suddenly he was scared Herrick might notice that he'd gone soft for Lily.

'To easy, no fun in that.' He said, careful to look Herrick in the eye.

'She must've been extremely dull for you to take on the donor blood instead. What were you thinking?' Herrick smiled, but his eyes were cold.

'Just an experiment.' He said, calmer than he felt. 'I had no idea these chemicals work so fast.'


The pleasant buzz of happiness she'd felt all day disappeared the minute she discovered her flat was empty. He'd left no note. In fact there was nothing there that was proof of his presence. So he'd left. She dropped her coat onto the sofa and put on the kettle. Then she changed her mind and looked for the bottle of vodka she kept in one of the kitchen cupboards.

By the time the water was boiling she'd forgotten all about her plans for making tea. Sod you, Mitchell, she thought. It wasn't until she went to the loo that she noticed his dirty clothes in her laundry basket. Maybe he'd just discarded them, and was happy to do without them. She had to restrain herself from picking up his T-shirt and sniffing it. You're disgusting, she told herself. As were his clothes.

She took a shower and put on her flannel pyjamas, even though it was only half past eight. She sat on the sofa and watched telly, the vodka bottle close at hand. By the time the door opened and Mitchell came in she was drunk.


He put down the pizzas and the beers he'd bought. 'Lily?'

She was there alright, slouched on the sofa watching some talent show. A girl wearing too much make-up was singing 'Heaven' by Bryan Adams. Lily was humming along, unaware of his arrival. Was she drunk? Yeah, she definitely was. He opened one of the beers and drank, still standing.

'You watching this?' he asked.

She looked up, surprised.

'Mitchell.' She said. He turned off the telly and sat down next to her.

'Pizza.' He said, and opened one of the boxes.

'I hope it's not anchovy.' She said.

'No anchovy. Lots of olives though.' He offered her a slice .

'I'm not very hungry.' She said. Smiled and refilled her glass. 'Do you want some?' He raised his beer bottle.

'Oh.' She said.

She was wearing white and blue flannel pyjamas, and he could see she'd washed her hair and had forgotten to comb it. It had dried up really strange.

'I'm not going to ask you.' She said. Her voice was slurred. 'I'm definitely not going to ask you if you'll stay, cause you'll think I'm all clingy and mad. I just want you to stay, that's all.' She blinked.

'I'm not going anywhere.' He said, and kissed her hair. 'Come on, let's get you to bed.'


Things were alright when she woke up. Mitchell was lying in bed next to her, wearing only – she had to look under the duvet – a pair of boxers. But her head hurt, and she couldn't remember last night.

Making love to him turned out to be the best hangover cure.

'Just lie down.' He said. 'You'll feel better soon.'

Slowly he explored her body with his hands and tongue, until she couldn't take anymore and grabbed his hair, pulling his head close to hers, kissing him until she was out of breath, while he drowned himself deep inside her.


This time it hadn't been difficult to control himself. Somehow she reminded him of the person he'd been before the all consuming hunger Herrick had inflicted upon him. She was so much like Lily – his cousin Lily.

Once he'd left school and the bullying was over, he'd become quite the ladies' man. Girls were easily attracted to him, and he found he knew exactly how to woe them. His confidence almost made him arrogant. Almost, but not entirely. He just liked them too much.

He loved to see them happy, but he was never really in love himself. A problem which he solved by not telling them. He was lousy at breaking up with them once his brief interest had gone. He didn't want to hurt them, but things ended ugly anyway by the time one of his many conquests discovered she wasn't the one, but instead one of many.

Lily had told him off. 'You don't love them. What you're doing is cruel.' He could see she was serious. She always knew. Pretending to her was no use. 'When you meet the right one you'll know.' She said. 'You should stop acting. You'll only break their hearts, and for what? A warm body at night? Someone to help ward off the nightmares?'

Maybe it was because she'd always been there that it took him so long to realise. Or maybe it was because she knew him too well. It took him a long time to discover she was his 'one', the girl he'd always regarded as his sister, a girl so much like him. By the time he found out she'd married Sean O'Brien and he'd joined the army.

'So he's the one?' he'd asked her one day when he was on leave. She watched him in his uniform, almost a stranger, far more serious than the childhood friend she'd had.

'Maybe he is.' She said.

'I've been hoping it would have been me.' He told her, matter of fact. That was the last they had spoken on the subject. There was no point.

At least, that's what he'd thought. But one night, two days before he had to go back to work, he met her outside his bedroom door. Sean was away on a business trip.

'Why are you up, Lily?' he'd asked.

'Why are you, John?' she'd replied.

She was his cousin, and she was married, but it had felt so right. They'd spent the rest of his leave together, never once leaving the house.

'What's going to happen to us?' she'd asked when he kissed her goodbye at the train station.

'We'll work something out.' He'd said, trying to sound more confident than he felt.

His next leave had been four months later. She and Sean seemed very happy. There was even a baby on the way. She let him touch her growing belly when Sean was out. He made love to her one more time, slowly and careful not to hurt her.

'He's a good man.' She said. 'I don't think I could hurt him.' She rubbed her belly while she told him that maybe there wouldn't be anything to work out anymore. Two days later his regiment was sent to war.


'Tell me something about you.' She said. They'd just had dinner and now they were drinking coffee, still sitting opposite one another at her kitchen table.

'Like what?' he asked.

'Something I don't know. I mean, I know you've traveled, that you're Irish, that you and Mel had a thing once, and I know what makes you ticklish and that you like olives. And I know about the seizures.'

He put down his cup. 'That's not me. That's just something that happens to me.'

'I know.' She said, and told him about her blood disorder. 'I hate it. My P.E. teacher called me the girl with the blood disorder. Like that's all there is to me.'

He got up and refilled their cups. He lit a cigarette, standing by the sink.

'No, that's not who you are.' He said. She watched him inhale and blow out smoke.

'Tell me who you are, Mitchell.'


A mouth, he thought. Instead he watched her and said 'No good, but I already told you that.'

She frowned. 'I think you should stop telling me that. Unless you care to prove it. Was it messy?'

He felt his face drain of colour.

'When you and Mel broke up? I know she introduced us, but somehow I've got the feeling she's not that thrilled about you and me. Us.'

He coughed, relieved. 'It's always messy. I've hurt her, you know.'

She smiled. 'Mel's tougher than you think. Did you know she was the one who found Declan? She tried to save his life. Even if it didn't help, she tried.'

Mitchell nodded. She sure did, he thought. After she'd taken Declan's life.