"Are we actually driving to somewhere or are you just wasting my petrol?"
Zoe asked. Silence had reigned for the past twenty minutes with the odd 'left' or 'right' from Max.
"Right here."
He gestured to a side road slightly too late and she had to break hard to make the turning.
"Where are we?"
She asked, driving down the narrow secluded road, her headlights illuminating the odd deer or rabbit by the side of the road.
"Park just here..."
He said, gesturing to the space in front of a row of narrow three story houses.
"Where are we?"
She asked again, dipping her head to look up out of the windscreen to the house.
"My house."
He said simply.
"Your house?!"
She exclaimed.
"Why are we at your house?!"
She asked, watching him as he smiled patiently at her.
"I'm going to help you relax."
His smile widened as he spoke.
"Max..."
"Don't worry It's not what you think. Come on..."
He unbuckled his belt and placed his hand on his door to open it, waiting for her to follow.
"Max I can't go inside, what about your house mates? I can't afford to start rumours about myself."
She rubbed at her headache again, the pain seemed to be gaining strength and she longed for her bed.
"They're all at the pub! They won't be back until late. Come on..."
He popped open his door and held it steady, watching her.
"Trust me..."
Those words again that he had uttered so many times that night.
She sighed and conceded, she opened her own door, set her belt free and stepped out onto the gravel. She felt her heels begin to sink into the soft mud beneath the stones.
He held out a hand instinctively and steadied her.
"I'm fine."
She said as she stepped quickly over the gravel, following him onto the door step.
She looked up at the house as he fished for his keys. It was a tall, thin red brick building, the moon hung low over it's roof and the windows reflected the swaying trees opposite.
He unlocked the door, she heard the rustle of this mornings post get caught between the door and the carpet as they entered. He flicked on the light and bent down to retrieve the post.
She followed him down the hall and into a small, narrow kitchen.
Without saying a word he set down the post on the counter top and began filling a saucepan with milk and setting it to boil whilst looking for something in one of the cupboards.
Zoe glanced at the pile of post. 'Mr M. Walker', she assumed that to be Max.
"What are you looking for?"
She asked, watching as he reached to the back of the cupboard.
"It's a secret."
He said, pulling out a tall patterned tin and emptying the contents into the saucepan.
She folded her arms across her chest, willing to let him get on with whatever he was doing. She watched as he stirred the mixture with a yellow wooden spoon, the sweet dark smell of chocolate began to rise from the saucepan. He took a pinch of something from the spice rack behind the hob and sprinkled it in before pouring it into two mugs that he found on the draining board.
"Try this."
He handed her the larger of the two mugs, she raised it to her nose, it smelled of dark bitter chocolate and exotic spices.
"Nice mug..."
She commented, noticing the Star Trek mug that he held himself.
"Try it.."
He urged. She raised it to her lips and took a small sip. It was almost too hot. It was creamy and the bitterness softened into a sweet heat, it made her throat warm and her body almost involuntarily began to relax.
"Mayan hot chocolate."
He said, sipping his own and smacking his lips.
She took another sip, imagining this was probably not the best drink for the waistline.
"A man of hidden talents."
She smiled into the chocolate steam.
He shrugged, and smiled again.
"I had you down as more of a beer man."
She added, blowing lightly onto the chocolate to cool it.
"Did you now."
He said, reaching for a red biscuit barrel and tucking it under his arm.
"Let's go through..."
He gestured with his drink to the door at the far end of the kitchen which led into the sitting room.
They moved through. The sitting room was small too, but longer as it stretched across the back of the house.
She sat on one of the two small sofa's, cradling her mug in her hand, enjoying the warmth of it and the smell drifting up from it.
"Music?"
He asked, moving to the CD collection that lined one wall above the television.
"As long as it's not Barry White."
She answered, watching as he ran a finger along the titles. She heard him laugh and he picked a CD and opened it. He had his back to her as he placed the disc into the CD player and pressed play.
The disc squealed softly for a moment before the music started, he had the volume low and the lights were dim, and with the rain outside gently tap-tapping the windows the whole room fell into a lull of relaxation that she hadn't felt for a good few months. She let her body relax back into the sofa and watched as Max placed his drink down on top of the mantel piece and opened the biscuit barrel.
"Who is this?"
She asked, straining to hear the music over the rhythm of the rain.
He turned the nob on the CD player slightly and it grew louder.
He watched her face as she realised.
"Surely you're not old enough to even know who David Bowie is."
She laughed as 'the prettiest star' played into the room.
"My mum was a fan..."
He said, offering her the biscuit tin.
She reached in and retrieved a round flat dark brown biscuit that smelled like Christmas.
"Lebkuchen"
He said and took one for himself before settling down on the sofa opposite.
She bit into it, the sweet honeyed taste of the spicy biscuit and the chilli heat of the hot chocolate was almost too much, too good.
"Please tell me you didn't make these?"
She asked, holding up the biscuit.
"Yep."
He nodded.
"My mum grew up in Austria, she taught me."
He ate his own quickly and took another sip of chocolate. The CD whirred again and 'Rock and Roll Suicide' began to play.
She smiled, she remembered sitting playing this at full volume when she was in dorms at university.
She took another sip and let her eyes close as 'Time' replaced suicide and lulled her into an odd peaceful trance. She kept her mug pressed against her chin, the steam rising into her face.
At one point she heard Max begin to hum along with the music and then stop, as if he'd remembered he wasn't alone. She smiled briefly to herself and let one eye open ever so slightly.
He was leant forward, elbows on knees holding his mug out, head bent, tapping the sides of it with his fingers to the slow thumping beat.
She could barely see his face.
The music began to fade to the rain again and he looked up abruptly, she shut her eye sharply but heard him laugh quietly. She opened her eyes, he had stood up again and was making his way back over to the CD's.
"So what do you like to listen to?"
He asked. His voice too, like everything else was soft.
She touched her head, habit bought her hand there but as she touched her forehead she realised her headache had gone.
"You choose..."
She whispered, too tired, too peaceful to mind.
He stood motionless for a moment, looking out into the rain, the headlights of a car illuminated him briefly and she sat up.
"Shit..."
He hissed.
"They're back..."
Without a thought he took her mug from her and placed it on the table, took her hand and pulled her to her feet.
"They can't see me here..."
She whispered, following him as he pulled her from the sitting room up two flights of stairs. She imagined Robyn finding her there, the things she would assume were going on. She imagined Connie's delight in the rumours. What little reign she held over the department would be reduced to a mockery.
Max pushed open the door at the top of the stairs and ushered her in first before shutting the door and flicking the lock.
He left her standing in the middle of the room and went over to the window to look out.
"I thought you said they would be back late?!"
She spoke under her breath even though she hadn't heard anyone enter the house yet.
He held up a hand and watched as Lofty helped his step sister out of the car. Both were clearly drunk already. The taxi that had dropped them off pulled away and he heard the front door open and close.
"They are...usually..."
He glanced at the clock on his bedside table.
It was only 10:15.
The lights of another car pulled into the driveway, from upstairs they could still hear the crunch of the wet gravel and the shrieks of more people.
"Ah..."
Max wiped the window clear, his breath had clouded his view.
"What is it?"
She asked.
"I think they're planning a party."
He said, stepping back away from the window and drawing the curtains. The room was almost pitch black, she heard him stumble over something and then a small bedside lamp came on.
"How am I supposed to get out now?!"
She could feel the tension creeping once again up her body, her forehead beginning to ache again and her chest tightening.
"You could shin down the drain pipe...?"
He joked, sitting down on the edge of his bed to take his shoes off before lying back, propped up on two or three pillows.
"This isn't funny Max. If they see me, if they know I came back with you...I know what Robyn is like with staff gossip..."
He ran a hand over his face as she spoke and stifled a yawn.
"Relax, it's fine. She won't see anything. And anyway we haven't done anything to gossip about..."
She raised an eyebrow.
"It's not what we haven't done."
She corrected.
"It's what it looks like we have done."
She placed her hands on her hips and began to pace the room.
"And my car is in your drive way!"
She suddenly exclaimed.
"Shhh!"
He leaned forward and took hold of her, pulling her down so that she sat on the edge of the bed.
"Nobody here is going to know that's your car. When you leave in the morning they'll all be passed out. They probably didn't even see a car when they arrived."
"When I leave in the morning?!"
She hissed.
"I'm not staying the night!"
She tried to stand again but he held her fast.
"Zoe. They'll be down there for most of the night, they might not even come up. So unless you do want to try climbing down the drain pipe you'll have to make do with my bedroom floor.
He attempted a smile although she was still staring straight ahead at the window.
"You are joking?"
She asked, finally looking back at him.
"Yes, I wouldn't really expect you to sleep on the floor. You can have the bed."
He pushed himself off of the bed as he spoke and opened his wardrobe doors in search of something soft he could put on the floor.
She placed a hand on her head and let herself fall back on the bed. How had she managed to get herself into such a mess. Her whole body ached from exhaustion and a lump throbbed in her throat. Being over tired had always wreaked havoc with her emotions. She tried to swallow against the pain in her throat as it drew up into her jaw, the corners of her eyes prickling with salted tears. She moved her hand so it covered her eyes and drew in long, steadying breaths
Meanwhile Max was peering onto the shelf at the top of his wardrobe, bringing down various thick jumpers and jogging bottoms to use as bedding for himself on the floor.
"Do you want something to change into?"
He asked.
"I promise it's clean..."
He turned toward her holding a burgundy hooded jumper and a pair of grey tracksuit bottoms.
She lay with her hand over her eyes, motionless all except for the soft rise and fall of her chest, then he saw the gentle quiver of her chin and the breath catch in her chest.
"Are you alright?"
He asked, placing the clothes on the edge of the bed and moving quietly round to her. He sat next to her on the bed, unsure of what to do next.
"I'm fine."
She whispered.
"You don't look fine..."
He gently laid back so that his face was level with hers on the mattress and touched her hand with his own, slowly peeling it away from her face. Her eyes were closed but she opened them as he drew her hand away and a large round tear skittered across her cheek and over her nose before falling onto the duvet cover.
"Hey..."
He whispered.
She shook her head and wiped her eyes, sniffing quietly.
"I'm being silly."
She managed to say, her voice tight as she spoke.
She turned her face to look at him. His smile was softer than before, his eyes, for once, steady and concerned.
"I'm sorry."
He said.
"It was a stupid idea to bring you back here. I was just...showing off as usual
He sighed as he spoke and turned to look up at the ceiling. The light was so dim that his eyes struggled to focus.
"Actually I think it was exactly what I needed."
She admitted slowly.
"It's just a shame it ended like this."
He laughed at her words.
"I've never heard a woman say that in my bedroom before."
He said, the smile was back behind his eyes and he turned to look at her again. In the half light her skin looked darker, her eyes glittered with unshed tears and her hair gleamed.
"So.."
She spoke as she rolled onto her front so that she now looked down on him from beside him.
"What is it you normally get up to up here then?"
She asked, feigning naivety.
He raised an arm and folded it behind his head, the other lay across his stomach, of which a thin sliver of pale flesh was visible between his jeans and his t-shirt.
"I couldn't possibly say."
He winked as he spoke and watched as her hair fell from behind her ear and she pushed it back again.
"I bet this bed's seen a lot of action."
She mused, looking up at the headboard, almost expecting to see a line of notches.
"I hope these sheets are clean..."
She said as an afterthought, looking down at the plain white duvet cover and pillows.
"Clean on...sometime last week...maybe the week before?"
He answered, stretching as he spoke.
His t-shirt rose higher and she could see the firm outline of his abdomen.
"Great..."
She raised an eyebrow and glanced again at the sheets.
"I'm joking."
He whispered, leaning forward to catch her gaze. She looked down at him, inches between them.
"This bed's seen a lot less action than you think."
He added.
"Is that so?"
She asked slowly, watching the shadows play across his face.
"But don't tell anybody."
He added. Propping up his head with his hand.
She let her eyes wander his face for a moment. The light highlighted his jaw and the angular cheekbones, his hair cast shadows across his forehead and his eyes were dappled and kind.
"So where am I supposed to get changed?"
She asked, looking pointedly toward the clothes that Max had put down on the end of the bed.
"Ummm..."
He let himself slide down off of the bed and tossed the jumper and trousers at her.
"I'm afraid it's going to have to be a turn-my-back job."
He mused, watching the amused smile play at the corners of her lips.
"If you look..."
She warned, raising an eyebrow.
He held up a hand.
"I promise I won't."
He said as he turned to face his wardrobe and crossed his hands across his chest.
He heard the slow unzipping of the back of her dress, the crumple of it as it hit the floor and the sound of her taking off her shoes. He closed his eyes and raised his face to the ceiling, barely trusting himself not to look.
"You can turn around now."
She instructed, and he turned to see her sitting in the middle of his bed near the pillows. She was cross legged, her barefeet tucked neatly under her legs and she was rolling the sleeves of the jumper up slightly so that they didn't over hang.
"Don't say a word..."
She watched as he tried not to smile.
He looked at the neat pile of clothes next to his bed, her dress, her tights, watch on top and the tell tale hooks of a bra between the folds of the dress.
He sucked in a breath.
"Your turn now."
He said and motioned with his fingers for her to turn around.
She rolled her eyes and shut her eyes, but not turning.
"How do I know you won't look?"
He asked, pulling out a second pair of grey jogging bottoms.
"Trust me."
She smiled and kept her eyes shut, listening to him unbuckle his jeans and replace them for the jogging bottoms. He was quicker than she was and she opened her eyes as she felt his weight back on the bed.
He had haphazardly placed his jeans and boxers over the chair next to his wardrobe, his belt he had hung on the back of the wardrobe door.
She drew in a long slow breath.
"Now what...?"
She asked, raising her eyebrows and looking about the small room. There was only a wardrobe, a chair, the bed she was sitting on and a bedside table next to a book case.
"We could..."
He looked about himself.
"play eye spy?"
He offered, jokingly.
"I think that would be a very short game..."
She smiled.
"So what was in that mayan hot chocolate to relax me then?"
She asked, leaning back against the pillows and rubbing her hands together, there was a chill in the room and she noticed there was no double glazing and the moisture was gathering on the inside of the glass.
"Secret."
He smiled.
"That was just the start."
He added.
"Really?"
She asked, shifting her weight so that she could pull the duvet out from underneath her and push her legs under the duvet. He watched her, realising how odd it was to have her here, in his home, in his bed.
"What else?"
She asked, pulling the duvet up to her waist and wriggling her toes under the duvet so that they touched against his hand from beneath the cover.
He watched them, could feel their warmth despite the duvet.
"Oh, I can't just reel them off, it takes away the magic. They just have to happen..."
She raised an eyebrow at him, she glanced to the floor space, there was minimal room even if he moved the chair away from the wardrobe.
"Where are you going to sleep?"
She asked, changing the subject. She had yet to see any sign of any extra pillows or blankets.
"On the floor..."
He looked over the odd shaped spaces of floor he had in his room.
"Or the chair..."
He said, changing his mind.
The chair was an old low slung wooden chair with no arms.
"You'll freeze."
She said quietly.
He raised his shoulders.
"I've got a jumper."
He held up a dark blue woollen jumper that was hung over the back of the chair next to him.
She shook her head and pushed back the duvet, moving over so that he had room.
"Are you sure...?"
He asked, unmoving.
She nodded.
"But behave..."
She added, watching as he tossed the jumper back onto the chair.
"I can sleep down this end if you'd rather?"
He asked, pausing at the foot of the bed.
"I'm not having your feet in my face!"
She exclaimed, tapping the free side of the bed.
"Now get in there's a draft."
He made his way to the head of the bed and slid his legs under the cover, he rested himself back so that he was level with her and pulled the duvet up.
"I feel like we're an old married couple..."
He whispered, his smile sweeping his face again.
"Oh thanks!"
She laughed, turning toward him. He smelled of chocolate and rain with a vague hint of this mornings deodorant. She recalled what Connie had said earlier.
"Sorry if I smell of cigarettes..."
He leaned towards her and sniffed loudly.
"Coco chanel and cigarettes..."
He mused, slipping down the bed further so that he could lay his head on his pillow, an arm resting above his head.
"Sorry..."
She apologised again.
"It's sexy."
He smiled. She looked down at him.
"Connie didn't seem to think so."
She sighed, following his lead and shuffling herself lower down. She felt her leg brush against his, the jogging bottoms had ridden up to her knees and her bare skin brushed against his own, she felt the heat and hairs on his leg tickle her own.
"Connie doesn't find you sexy?"
He asked, looking at her, a hint of a smile on his lips.
"That's not really what I meant..
She smiled.
"Don't let her get to you."
He said. His voice was low and soft again as it had been when they were downstairs.
"Mmm..."
She murmured, looking at something invisible on her hand.
He rolled over and propped his head up with his hand.
"Look at me."
He whispered.
She shook her head, her eyes beginning to smart again.
He shifted himself up again so that his head rested against the wall. He reached an arm around her, and pulled her towards him. She resisted momentarily, hesitating only briefly before allowing herself to be pulled into him as she felt her face crumple and the burning not in her throat release. He eased her head into his chest, her face turned in against his t-shirt, she gulped in a breath and struggled to hold onto the sobs that made her body spasm. She groaned into him, tired, angry, embarrassed and sobbing against him.
He held her, both arms wrapped around her, the fingers against her hair stroking softly, rhythmically. He rested his chin on the top of her head and squeezed her gently, letting her cry.