Free A Year of Marvellous Ways by Sarah Winman Page B

under the sill and leant out as far as she could, arms out wide. A couple of lads laughed and shouted and pointed at her but she didn’t hear. She felt the breeze stir her hair, felt it in the musk of her pits. She closed her eyes and felt as if she was moving above it all, away from it all.
    She pulled herself back inside and rubbed vigorously over her arms and legs until warmth flowed through her blue and green veins. She unclasped the birdcage door and opened it wide. Go on, Buddy, she whispered. Off you go now. Go on, be happy.
    The bird was unsure, cautious. It didn’t budge.
    Go on. Missy blew lightly on the linnet’s feathers. Fly.
    She almost missed it. A sudden flash of ruddy feathers fluttered against the cloudless azure sky and then he was gone. She closed the cage and replaced the linen coverlet. She crept back to the warmth of the bed and gently lifted the covers. She noticed Freddy’s erection and moved away from him but he followed her. She felt him hard against her thigh but she kept her legs together. He whispered her name but she pretended to be asleep. Not that last night had been a mistake, but she wouldn’t let it happen again. It had felt awkward, truth be told, and now all she wanted was to be alone. Freddy came quickly with a muffled groan, but she didn’t move. She stared straight ahead at the coffee percolator and couldn’t believe that she hadn’t put it on because she could do with a coffee right now, that more than anything. Just a little something to help her on her way. That was what she was thinking whilst he was thinking of love.
    Freddy sat up in bed and smoked. He watched Missy unpin and brush out her hair. Her fingers were deft and sure and she didn’t even need a mirror twisting ends into a curl. He’d be all thumbs, but he’d like to try it, he thought. Do something for her that no other man had done. He lifted the ashtray and tapped the cigarette free of ash. He couldn’t believe she was dressed already. As if she’d had the morning without him and he felt jealous of that space and time. Navy slacks and a Fair Isle jumper. They suited her and brought out the red of her lips but it was quite a homely look for her, he thought, maybe that was what she wore on Sundays. God, there was so much to learn. She looked into the mirror and caught his eye. He smiled, and she did too after a beat. Why didn’t she smile straight away? Why wasn’t she next to him when he woke up? All he wanted to know was whether he’d been all right last night. You know, as good as the others?
    What do you want to do today? said Missy.
    Whatever you want, he said.
    And Missy went quiet thinking about what she wanted because what she wanted was to be alone. She wanted to go downstairs to Miss Cudgeon’s and have a bath, and come back up and lie in her bed and read a magazine. But she didn’t know how to ask for that, so she said, We could go for a walk.
    Is that what you normally do?
    I don’t have a normal, Freddy. Walk’s as good as anything right now.
    What was he missing? Long time since he’d been in this situation. We could stay here, he said, and he patted the bed.
    No, she said. We’re going out. Come on, she said, we’re missing the day. And her words were set in a fog of hairspray.
    It was clear that the mood of the night before had evaporated at sunrise. He slid from the bed in embarrassed silence, turned away to pull on his underpants. When he was dressed he began to straighten the bed but Missy stopped him, said she wanted to change the sheets; that’s how he knew he wouldn’t be sleeping with her that night. He repacked his suitcase and closed the lid. He watched her pick up the empty brandy bottle and place it in the bin. He saw her shake her head as if it was the booze that had lowered her standards. He tied his tie badly and pulled on his raincoat. He picked up his suitcase and said, I’ll take this with me. Head over to Paddington later on for an early start tomorrow, and he