“We still haven’t come to an agreement about your rate,” Barclay said. This was getting old. I feigned ignorance.
“Rate?”
“For the consultations and home visits. I need to know your rate.”
I rolled my eyes. “Wediddiscuss it – I don’t do private work. I’m not here as a doctor. I agreed to visit Henry as a friend.”
“I’d prefer to have everything on a more formal basis, and that means me paying you, and you delivering what Henry needs.”
“Sorry, big guy.” I sat down into a chair next to Henry at the table. “I’m not a very formal person. And I’m not accepting your money.”
“But you arenotHenry’s friend, or mine,” Barclay bit out as he grabbed the milk from the fridge with a little more force than was necessary. “I really think–”
“I make friends quickly, right Mark?”
Mark snorted out a laugh. “Thatis an understatement. The guy who runs the Kosher kebab shop round the corner from me asked her to his son’s Bar Mitzvah last week.”
“Ephraim and I share a special bond which you couldn’t possibly understand.”
“You met him twice, Kira. I’ve been going there every Saturday night for the last five years and he doesn’t even remember my name.”
“Betyounever jumped over the counter to help slice the doner meat?”
“No, no I didn’t, ’cause I’m not a crazy person,” Mark said, pulling up a chair next to me and collapsing into it.
Two cups of tea were slammed in front of both of us, some of the brown liquid sloshing over the side. We both looked up to see Barclay’s scowling face above us. “If you two have quite finis–”
“I’d bloody kill for a kebab,” Henry put in, leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms over his chest. I grinned and snatched Mark’s phone out of his hand. Just because I didn’t choose to own a smart phone didn’t mean I wasn’t partial to making use of my friends’ ones. Two minutes later, four kebabs were ordered and on their way – the magic of London and Deliveroo.
“I’m sorry,” Barclay said. He was hovering next to the table and his hands were on his hips. “I wouldreallylike to know when you’re going to discuss medication with Henry.”
“Ah, right,” I said, before blowing over my cup of tea, closing my eyes and taking a long sip. “Okay. Henners, you taking your meds?”
“Yes.”
I put my tea down and clapped my hands together. “Seems that about covers that! Happy?”
Barclay’s handsome face was flushed and his mouth was set in a tight line. He’d brought his hands down to his sides and they were bunched into fists. “What–”
“Look, Barclay, please justgo,” Henry said, rubbing his hands down his face. “You wanted these nutters to come over. At least let them stay and have a bloody kebab without huffing and puffing all night. Go and finish your conference call. It’s probably bad form to keep a French president waiting.”
“Awesome,” I whispered, looking up at Barclay, who returned my wide-eyed look with a deep scowl.
“Fine,” he snapped. “Great. Eat a kebab. Whatever.”
“Listen, I’ve added on a shish for you Barcos – my treat. They’re amazing, and the hot sauce helps with constipation so . . .” The slamming of the kitchen door behind an irate Barclay cut me off and I shrugged before sighing dramatically and taking another sip of tea. “He issomuch sexier in person,” I told Henry, resting my head in my hand on the table and focusing on the middle distance with a dreamy expression on my face. “And his arse. Badger me backwards. His arse is a thing of beauty.”
Henry’s lips tipped up, and then he let out a chuckle. It sounded rusty, like it hadn’t been in use much recently. “I’ll have to take your word for it,” he said through a smile. “Don’t tend to look at my brother’s arse overmuch.”
I sighed again. “You’re missing out.”
“Ki Ki’s got a bit of a thing for your brother,” Mark put in helpfully. “She’s paused the telly multiple times trying to get a better look at that arse of his, so the last hour was probably up there with her best sexual experiences of the decade.”
“You guysareweird,” Henry said under his breath, then louder. “Please, please, never mention my brother’s arse again.”
“Well now, there were actually a couple of other areas that–”
“No Barclay body parts,please,” he interrupted. “I think I just threw up in my mouth a little.”
