“Dr Murphy,” I bit out, striding over to her and leaning down to shake her shoulder.
“’Sup?” She opened one eye and gave me a lopsided grin.
“It’s two in the morning,” I told heragain. “Where are your friends? It’s not safe for you to go home alone in this state.”
“I–ish be fine,” she slurred, waving off my concern and shutting both her eyes again. “I lo-o-o-ove the night bus. If you could just . . .” she gestured towards the locks above her, “. . .twiddle your bits for me.” At that, she snorted and hiccupped again, “Then I’ll mosey on home. ’K?” The last of her words trailed off as she lapsed into unconsciousness, sitting bolt upright against my door. I shook her shoulder again but all she managed in response was another hiccup.
“For fuck’s sake,” I said under my breath as I stuck my hands under her armpits and lifted her onto her feet. “Of all the ridiculous, stupid, idiotic . . .”
I tried to walk her towards the stairs but she slumped forward, very nearly falling on her face before I caught her.
“I could be a bloody rapist for all you know.” I hooked her under her knees with one arm, put the other around her shoulders and lifted her up to my chest. She was light, very light, but given her height that shouldn’t really have surprised me. With renewed access to my chest, she started snuggling into it again, inhaling my scent in between hiccups. That wild hair felt soft under my chin and smelt flowery but fresh, with a hint of lavender. I felt a wave of that bizarre attraction again and gritted my teeth as I made my way up the stairs. Everything about this woman was getting under my skin: her feistiness, quirkiness, sharp wit and the way she moved – flitting around like a woodland fairy, leaving chaos in her wake. It was all strangely addictive.
I kicked open the door of the spare bedroom and dumped her on the bed, hoping she might wake up and sort herself out. She bounced once, then collapsed like a dead weight in a starfish formation.
“Of all the bloody ridiculous things I could be doing,” I said as I reached down to pull off her furry UGGs, revealing tiny feet. I threw the boots on the floor, pulled her over onto her side into the recovery position, then covered her with the duvet. She promptly curled up into a ball and hiccupped twice more before letting out a little snore. I backed out of the room, staring at her face and marvelling at how angelic she looked when unconscious. No hint of the troublemaker she really was.
Chapter 6
Genital warts are no joke, people
Kira
I woke up with a terrible case of badger mouth. As I blinked open my eyes and saw dull grey walls instead of the bright yellow I had painted my bedroom, I cringed. Evidence suggested that Imightnot quite have made it home. As I turned onto my back and stared up at the cornicing on the ceiling, flashes of last night started coming back to me. Why had I been wrestling a load of coats on the floor of the corridor? I rubbed my temples and an olfactory memory came crashing back into my conscious brain. Oh God, I hadsmeltBarclay last night. I had actually made a show of smelling him! He must think I was an even bigger freak than he already suspected.
“Fuck it,” I murmured, shaking my head and sitting up. Kira Murphy was never one to worry over embarrassment or people’s impressions of her. If I’d made a dick of myself, then so be it – it certainly wouldn’t be the first time. Yes, I fancied Barclay like mad, but it was in the same way I fancied Jamie Dornan or George Clooney – from afar. It wasn’t as if he’d ever look twice at me anyway, so what did it matter if I’d made an arse out of myself in front of him?
I wasn’t stupid – men like Barclay did not go for hippy little eccentrics like me. Based on my press-stalking of Barclay alone, I knew he was much more into tall, polished, professional, sophisticated blondes. Apart from being a professional, I was about as far from that description as I could get. I’d met my last boyfriend at a folk festival. He was a flute player in one of the more random bands and didn’t believe in soap as itmessed with his natural oils– that was much more my speed.
I peered over the side of the bed and grabbed my bag from the floor so I could fish out my watch. It was seven, an hour after my normal wake up time. I really must have been out of it last night.
I had always been an early bird. It used to drive my mum nuts when I was little – bouncing off the walls, waiting for her to wake up. But then again, I bounced off the walls at all times; my energy levels had been through the roof since birth. Mum used to call me the Energizer Bunny.
I jumped out of bed, padded to the enormous bathroom (my entire flat could have fitted in there), found some toothpaste to swill out my mouth then surveyed my appearance in the mirror. My hair was all over the place, à la Sideshow Bob, so I used one of the hair bands on my wrist to wrestle it into a half-arsed topknot into which most strands refused to be contained. I then removed the majority of the smudging from my eyes and ripped my jumper over my head, as the bastard was itchy – sleeping in wool was not to be recommended. MyBadgers Rulet-shirt was just alittleindecent, but it wasn’t as though anyone would care or even see it. I picked up my scarf, wrapped it around my neck and tied my jumper around my waist. Only a sliver of stomach and maybe atad bitof lacy-bra-covered side boob remained on show. But I needed a strong coffee and a bagel, and I needed them five minutes ago.
On my way out, I nipped into the kitchen, penned a quick note to the Lucas brothers and slapped it on their fridge before moving to the front door.
“Dr Murphy,” I heard a deep voice behind me and saw Sam the security man striding towards me. Now sober, the locks presented less of a challenge to me and I managed to finish negotiating them before he could reach me. “Dr Murphy, please don’t!” Ignoring the urgency in his voice I flung open the door (chuffed to bits at my now proficient lock-handling) only to be met by a wall of sound, which abruptly fell silent as I stepped out onto the top of the stone steps.
“Badger me,” I whispered as my wide eyes took in the sea of surprised faces and cameras confronting me. Never shy of a crowd, I recovered fast and smiled.
“Yo!” I cried, waving at everyone. There was a long pause, followed by some confused muttering before all hell broke loose. So many questions were fired at me that I couldn’t make them all out above the clicking of the cameras.
Hmm. I was not exactly camera shy either.
I threw out a hip, put my hand on it and blew them all a kiss.
“Well, hello there!” I shouted above the crowd. I was nothing if not opportunistic and right now I spied a moment: I’d been waiting for a publicity platform for a while now. There had been virtually no media interest in the launch of my charity last year – despite contacting all the press outlets I could think of. This might be one of my only chances to really get some traction for the things I cared about. I didn’t know why Barclay’s door was flooded with journalists, but I thought I might as well make use of them. “If you’d all be quiet, I’d like to make an announcement.”
The questions died down after a few seconds and I cleared my throat.
“I have a number of important things to share with you. Number one: my charity Freedom Through Education launched last year – if you could spread the word, it would be much appreciated. None of you bastards were that interested when I contacted you at the time. Number two: wear condoms, people. Believe me, you’ll regret it if you don’t – I see the results. Number three: write to your MP to push to haveallteenagers vaccinated against genital warts – it’s currently only HPV, but warts are no joke, people – the last thing we need is more young people sprouting cauliflowers downtherewhen it’s preventable. Number four . . . humph!”
Two large hands went to my hips, lifted me off the floor and pulled me back into the house, after which the door was slammed.
“Well,” I said, looking up at a ruffled Sam. “That’s one way of moving a human.”
“Dr Murphy,” Sam said. “It may be better if you leave through the back door. It’s not safe to–”
