After we'd all headed to bed, I padded down the corridor silently and drew to a halt outside Bryce's door, listening. Whistling Clangers. Good, he was still awake. I'd thought as much. During my depression I'd noticed that Bryce, though retiring to his room around the same time as Hillary and myself, stayed up until the early hours, and then emerged about half past ten the next morning and rarely had any other state of dress before midday other than boxer shorts and, on chillier mornings, a T-shirt. A slob, basically. I knocked lightly and heard a faint, 'Come in', so I pushed the door open a crack and peeked in.
"Hi." I smiled.
"Hey, Lara!" he greeted. I entered the room fully.
"Can't sleep." I stated.
"Come on in." He waved me over to him and I stepped forward. He patted the bed next to him as I did so, and I hopped on and stretched out next to him where he was reclining on top of the covers with the television remote control in his hand. I leant against him and fixed my eyes on the screen, regarding the Soup Dragon with the same curiosity as always – in my mind, I could just not knit the concept of a clanging metal dragon with that of liquid, flowing soup. He put an arm around my shoulders and I let my head drop against him, turning to face him slightly so my bent knee rested against his thigh. We watched the TV show for another five minutes before it finished, and then as the next episode on the tape started I looked up at my host and said quietly,
"I can't tell you how truly sorry I am. I was horrible."
"It's alright, really." Bryce's voice was earnest and he gave me a quick squeeze, grinning down at me. I smiled back and then redirected my attention once again to The Clangers, snuggling my head a little closer and letting myself relax back into the close relationship I'd shared with Bryce before Egypt. Lucky for me Bryce's friendship wasn't quite so old as to justify the punishment I knew I was going to get from my butler.