Thanks to all you lovely reviewers again. I'm slightly surprised I haven't been awash with seething pro-Mrs C supporters, complaining at my poor treatment of her….maybe I'm not so evil after all…

Twenty-One

"Are you going to be ok?" Nikki asked as she prepared to leave around six o'clock.

"As long as my mother doesn't try singing to me," Harry said light heartedly but his eyes were searching her face, drawing out any last strength to sustain him through the night.

"You've got the dentist at eleven tomorrow," she continued.

"Go!" said Harry. "Go, get some rest."

They stood together; eyes locked, before Nikki pressed her cheek against his just as she had in Hungary and opened the door. She left the door for Harry to close and ran to the car. She was getting quite fond of driving Harry's car. Harry hadn't even mentioned it, she thought sadly. He would never usually let that go without some snide remark about her stealing his stuff.

It felt good to be back in her flat. Quiet, different, but good. She quickly finished clearing away the mess and poured herself a large glass of wine.

It was quiet.

She didn't like it so much after all.

How was Harry's silence noisier than her silent flat?

At 10:30pm her phone beeped, there was normally only one person who would send her texts late at night and he didn't have a phone.

'Stole phone, 4give me. Mum made me play Scrabble help me! Looks cold upstairs. H'

She didn't know whether to text back as it would let Anne know that Harry had her phone. Maybe she'd leave it an hour. She suspected that if Harry was going to try and sleep without her, the phone would be the closest substitute. Still, she thought, he wasn't so locked down that he wasn't able to send her a message.

She couldn't settle though. She refilled her wine glass and aimlessly straightened things up in her apartment. She pulled books off her shelf, and replaced them in size order and took long swigs of her wine. Instead of calming down, Nikki was getting more and more agitated. Why couldn't she do this? She had lived alone for years, for her whole life it seemed and now she spent three days living with Harry, even the damaged version of the Harry she had at the moment and being in her own house, on her own felt weird.

'Three days now,' she thought. She'd listened to all his problems, but where was her shoulder to cry on? It was always Harry she turned to when her heart was broken, but where could she go now? How had her life become so empty without him? What would it have been like if he had died?

She thought back over the events of the day. She had felt so close to his mother for a brief moment. Someone who shared her pain, but then Anne had started on this 'horse whisperer' shit. She was out of her mind. She couldn't pretend to be his dead girlfriend; that was not going to help Harry at all.

And what if she did, what would happen then. If Harry found out, he would never forgive her, it would signal the end of their friendship forever. If he didn't find out and thought it was real, she feared it would involve more than just a passionate kiss. He had been so convinced she was Anna, when he had kissed her yesterday. What would he do if she held him in her arms and told him she loved him? How could his mother expect her to do this? A mother's love was a fearsome thing.

She wished she could hate him, it would be so much simpler. She wouldn't be worrying about any of this stuff. She wouldn't be placed in these impossible places. She could get angry about his stupid behaviour, running off with girls half his age, getting shot at and causing her all this pain. She'd just finished her third glass when the phone rang.

"Nikki? Did I wake you?" Harry sounded anxious.

"No, I was tidying," Nikki said.

"It's two in the morning!" Harry replied.

"Well, you don't seem to be sleeping, either?" she slurred.

"Are you drunk?" Harry asked.

"Aren't you?" she replied spitefully.

"No, Mum hid all the booze as soon as you left; bad memories. What's the matter?" Harry couldn't hide the concern from his voice.

"I wish I could hate you, Harry," she began to sniff.

Despite the words, Harry didn't feel hurt, he knew her too well.

"Don't cry Nikki. Don't cry, please. Nikki, what's wrong with us? You're doing housework at 2am and I can't sleep without hearing you breathe." Harry said.

"Perv," she laughed. Calling him names was better than crying.

"I'm sorry if my mum upset you today," Harry said seriously but knew better than to ask about what had been said.

"She didn't mean to, she's just looking out for you, that's all," Nikki replied.

"Well I'm sorry anyway. Nikki?"

"Yes, Harry?"

"I," he paused. "I miss you,"

"Yes, you'll have no one to moan at for stealing you cover, or to help you back to bed when you fall out again," she said, steering the conversation away from anything meaningful as always.

"Ha ha," he said sarcastically. "Go to bed Nikki, I'll talk to you tomorrow, goodnight." Harry said.

"Night Harry," Nikki replied.