Doctor Who_ Beyond the Sun - Matthew Jones [15]
She rolled her eyes. ‘Some things don’t seem to change though.’ She reached for her wallet.
Jason smiled sheepishly. ‘Sorry. Thanks.’
They walked back towards the main part of town. The rain had stopped and Bernice could hear the distant sound of relentless dance music from the nightclubs.
‘I went to St Oscar’s looking for you. The Dean said you were here. Seemed to think that it was amusing.’
‘Did he indeed? Somehow that doesn’t surprise me. There was a mix-up in Admissions. Two scholarship students missed the first field trip of term, so someone had to take them on a special trip. I pulled the short straw. Personally I think the Dean fixed it. Trying to get me out of the way while he cuts the budget again. I’m really the only person in the department who puts up any kind of fight. So I ended up here, digging up the four million and seventy-second Chelonian slave dwelling and finding exactly the same pitiful items that were found in the four million and seventy-first. Tameka’s right: it’s really a waste of time.’
‘I thought you liked getting your hands dirty. Or have you become an armchair theorist in your old age?’
‘Me? Never!’ Bernice exclaimed, and found herself smiling without really knowing why. No, that wasn’t true. She did know why. It was reassuring to be in the company of someone who knew her so well. Jason was a miserable, self-obsessed, arrogant git, but he still knew her better than anyone else in the universe. When he was around she didn’t have to put on a show. Didn’t have to play Super Benny for the crowds. She missed that.
Jason paused at a junction of two muddy roads. ‘My hotel is this way.’
‘Really? Are you going to walk me to my tent or am I going to be murdered on my own?’
‘I never realized that archaeology students were so dangerous.’ He paused, as if he were uncertain whether to proceed. ‘I’d be happy to walk you to your tent.’
She fixed him with a hard stare. ‘Just a walk home, all right?’
He managed to look wronged. Which was something that he hadn’t had a great deal of practice at. ‘Of course, just a walk, all right?’
Benny felt an irresistible urge to tease him. To tease him and something else. She made a show of frowning at him, resting one hand on her hip. ‘What, no sex when we get there?’ The words had slipped out even before she was aware that she wanted him.
She almost burst out laughing at the range of expressions that fought their way across his face. ‘Well, if . . . um . . . you insist,’ he spluttered.
And then she really did burst out laughing. ‘I’d forgotten how much I love winding you up.’ She was going to regret this in the morning, but . . . ‘Let’s go back to your place. I’ve got a reputation to maintain around here.’
3
FRANTIC
From the diary of Bernice Summerfield
I woke to find myself being slowly throttled by my ex-husband. Not deliberately, of course. Jason was still fast asleep. One of his many infuriating habits was hanging on to me fiercely throughout the night. It was an act of desperation. Often he would cry out in his sleep, like a hurt child.
However hard I had tried, I had never been able to make out any of the words. His stubble was scratching painfully into the back of my neck. I arched myself away from him and loosened his grip on my throat. Once free of the neck-lock, I twisted over and stared at him for a whole minute. I must admit to being more than a little shocked by how attractive I still found him. I found myself thinking of ways that I could accidentally wake him so we could have sex again.
I ran a finger down the side of his face and he shuddered and wrinkled his nose as if trying to discourage an insect. And then he turned on to his back and began to snore loudly.
No sex then.
I swung my legs out of the bed and headed for the bathroom. My lips looked a little red and puffy in the mirror from kissing his stubbly face. I grimaced and my reflection