Free Reversing Over Liberace by Jane Lovering Page B

guilty at how thankful I was to be able to lie down without being leaped upon. Lack of sleep had left me a little bit cranky and six months worth of sex in two days had left me with what Katie would have called “a fanny like a nail file” so when the phone rang I didn’t exactly leap to answer it.
    â€œHello.”
    â€œOh dear. I thought you were away for the weekend?”
    â€œCal, if you thought I was away, why did you ring me?”
    â€œI mean, I thought you’d been away and would therefore be all sparkly and rejuvenated.”
    â€œYeah, I’m sparkly. That’s me, sparkly. Like Barbie’s party frock.”
    â€œBarbie is an alien invader from the planet Busty. Now, do you want to know why I’m ringing?”
    I smiled down the phone, suddenly less tired. “All right. Why are you ringing?”
    There was an answering smile in Cal’s voice. “Because I’m very bored. Oh, and to tell you that I’ve fixed your laptop.”
    â€œWell, that’s good. Can I still pick it up tomorrow?”
    â€œOf course. I’m looking forward to it. I’ve descaled the kettle in honour of your visit and built a rather nice little gazebo out of the limey bits.”
    â€œI thought you had to have a garden to have a gazebo.”
    â€œWindowbox gazebos are in this year, you know. So, I’ll see you tomorrow?”
    â€œI’ll be there.” I was still smiling when I put the phone down. Cal really was the weirdest creature, but he did make me laugh. That was the one thing lacking in Luke, I thought, starting to unpack, wondering whether these expensive clothes could be machine-washed. It would be unfair to say that Luke didn’t have a sense of humour, although he was the kind of man who thinks off-the-wall refers to a dado rail. But then—I winced as I sat down too quickly—Luke had many other compensations, some of which more than made up for a lack of chuckles.
    The telephone rang again and for some reason I expected it to be Cal. “Hello,” I answered cheerily. “Still bored?”
    The line whistled and shrieked like a haunting. “Hello?” said a distant voice, eventually.
    â€œHi, Clay. What’s up?” Clay never rang unless there was a problem.
    â€œI’m coming back, Will. Can I stay with you again?”
    A minor twitch of irritation. “I suppose. Why?”
    The line wailed as my words twanged off the satellite and bounced back down in China. “Fed up,” I made out, as the reply floated back. “Decided to take time off, find out what”—crackle crackle—“really want to do.”
    Sod. So not even a flying visit then. Good job I hadn’t bothered changing the sheets from his last visit. And, a large plus, Clay’s room was in the attic, with its own bathroom. That put three doors and a well-insulated ceiling between us, should I decide to, ahem, entertain . Whilst I hadn’t actually been planning nights of noisy debauchery with Luke, I wasn’t going to let the presence of an older brother in the house put me off. “Of course, it’ll be fine.”
    But the line was dead, he’d gone. Whisked back into the world of the merchant bank, which was clearly not all it was cracked up to be. It would be exactly like the old days, brothers hanging out of windows watching my every romantic move. But this was his home as much as it was mine. I could hardly come over all Lady of the Manor and deny my siblings shelter, could I? Bugger it.
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    Monday morning. Katie and I huddled in my office with a supply of chocolate biscuits, the phone on divert and a sign on the door warning Neil and Clive what happened to the last man to interrupt us.
    â€œSo? What did he say about the fifty grand?”
    â€œI didn’t get to tell him. Every time I started to say something… Let’s just say, we didn’t really do much talking this