at him and smiled. “Morning.”
The reek didn't help Michael's congested head, and when he tried to waft it away it did nothing. “Do you have to blow it right at me? Bloody hell, Lola, those things stink.”
When Michael sat up, the covers slipped away from him, and he looked down. “What the hell?”
He threw the covers off and jumped out of bed. A twinge ran through his ankle, but it held.
Once he’d recovered from the sharp sting, he looked at himself in the full-length mirror. The tracksuit bottoms and hoodie were a matching set—bright pink with sky-blue writing on them.
Lola’s cheeks pulled in as she sucked on her cigarette. Raising an eyebrow, she nodded. “The outfit suits you.”
Michael pulled the hoodie off and threw it on the bed—his T-shirt had a picture of Bambi on it.
“I thought you’d like that one,” Lola said with a smirk. “In all seriousness, you’d best keep it on. You’ll freeze to death if you don’t.”
Michael shook his head and walked over to the chest of drawers. When he pulled the top drawer out, he blushed. He could feel Lola’s scrutiny as he stared at the collection of frilly and brightly colored knickers.
The next drawer contained bras and the one below that, T-shirts. A quick search through them and Michael sighed. "So Bambi's as good as it gets?"
Lola didn't answer him.
The remaining two drawers had a couple of sweaters and a pair of skinny jeans. He looked back at Lola.
The slow drag on her cigarette and casual shrug contradicted the impish glee with which she watched him. “See, that was the best I could find.”
Fire spread across Michael’s cheeks as he blushed harder than before and slipped the hoodie back on. “Of all the places we break into,” he said, “we manage to find the house that belonged to a single woman. It’s typical when I need some fresh clothes, isn’t it? Well, I can tell you, as soon as I get the opportunity to change into something else I’m going to burn these clothes.”
Lola leaned farther back into the pillows supporting her and snorted a laugh. “I wouldn’t worry about it, Nearly Eleven. With any luck, we won’t be bumping into anyone anytime soon. It’s only me that’s going to be able to laugh at you.”
When Michael's stomach rumbled, Lola leaned out of the bed, grabbed her coat, and pulled out a chocolate bar from the stash they’d found in the shop. She threw a Crunchie at him.
The poor light made it hard to see, but he managed to catch it anyway. He stared at the gold-wrapped bar for a few seconds before looking back at Lola. “Um… is there any other choice?”
Sighing, Lola dug around in her pocket and threw a Mars Bar. It landed at the end of the bed. “Better?”
Michael smiled and tossed the Crunchie back. “Much.”
The sickly sweet bar turned into a thick paste in Michael's mouth. Despite gulping several times, he couldn't produce the saliva needed to swallow it.
The door to the en suite bathroom was open, so Michael went in and switched the taps on. Nothing. He ran his tongue around the inside of his mouth as he opened the cupboard above the bathroom sink. His heart lifted. Two small bottles of water sat in the middle of the shelf. They were both sealed.
When he returned to the bedroom with them held aloft, Lola’s jaw dropped. “Where were they?”
“In the bathroom cupboard above the sink.” He passed one to Lola.
Lola’s hands shook as she rushed to open it. After she’d twisted the cap, she put the bottle to her lips and upended it. Three loud gulps and she’d emptied it.
Michael sipped his, finishing off his chocolate bar before he drained the bottle and burped. “Pardon me.”
“You’re so posh.”
“What?”
Putting on a fake private school accent, she straightened her back and covered her mouth. “Oh, pardon me.”
“Fuck off.”
She laughed and pointed at him. “Even that sounds posh.”
Michael didn’t reply.
***
When Michael lay back
The reek didn't help Michael's congested head, and when he tried to waft it away it did nothing. “Do you have to blow it right at me? Bloody hell, Lola, those things stink.”
When Michael sat up, the covers slipped away from him, and he looked down. “What the hell?”
He threw the covers off and jumped out of bed. A twinge ran through his ankle, but it held.
Once he’d recovered from the sharp sting, he looked at himself in the full-length mirror. The tracksuit bottoms and hoodie were a matching set—bright pink with sky-blue writing on them.
Lola’s cheeks pulled in as she sucked on her cigarette. Raising an eyebrow, she nodded. “The outfit suits you.”
Michael pulled the hoodie off and threw it on the bed—his T-shirt had a picture of Bambi on it.
“I thought you’d like that one,” Lola said with a smirk. “In all seriousness, you’d best keep it on. You’ll freeze to death if you don’t.”
Michael shook his head and walked over to the chest of drawers. When he pulled the top drawer out, he blushed. He could feel Lola’s scrutiny as he stared at the collection of frilly and brightly colored knickers.
The next drawer contained bras and the one below that, T-shirts. A quick search through them and Michael sighed. "So Bambi's as good as it gets?"
Lola didn't answer him.
The remaining two drawers had a couple of sweaters and a pair of skinny jeans. He looked back at Lola.
The slow drag on her cigarette and casual shrug contradicted the impish glee with which she watched him. “See, that was the best I could find.”
Fire spread across Michael’s cheeks as he blushed harder than before and slipped the hoodie back on. “Of all the places we break into,” he said, “we manage to find the house that belonged to a single woman. It’s typical when I need some fresh clothes, isn’t it? Well, I can tell you, as soon as I get the opportunity to change into something else I’m going to burn these clothes.”
Lola leaned farther back into the pillows supporting her and snorted a laugh. “I wouldn’t worry about it, Nearly Eleven. With any luck, we won’t be bumping into anyone anytime soon. It’s only me that’s going to be able to laugh at you.”
When Michael's stomach rumbled, Lola leaned out of the bed, grabbed her coat, and pulled out a chocolate bar from the stash they’d found in the shop. She threw a Crunchie at him.
The poor light made it hard to see, but he managed to catch it anyway. He stared at the gold-wrapped bar for a few seconds before looking back at Lola. “Um… is there any other choice?”
Sighing, Lola dug around in her pocket and threw a Mars Bar. It landed at the end of the bed. “Better?”
Michael smiled and tossed the Crunchie back. “Much.”
The sickly sweet bar turned into a thick paste in Michael's mouth. Despite gulping several times, he couldn't produce the saliva needed to swallow it.
The door to the en suite bathroom was open, so Michael went in and switched the taps on. Nothing. He ran his tongue around the inside of his mouth as he opened the cupboard above the bathroom sink. His heart lifted. Two small bottles of water sat in the middle of the shelf. They were both sealed.
When he returned to the bedroom with them held aloft, Lola’s jaw dropped. “Where were they?”
“In the bathroom cupboard above the sink.” He passed one to Lola.
Lola’s hands shook as she rushed to open it. After she’d twisted the cap, she put the bottle to her lips and upended it. Three loud gulps and she’d emptied it.
Michael sipped his, finishing off his chocolate bar before he drained the bottle and burped. “Pardon me.”
“You’re so posh.”
“What?”
Putting on a fake private school accent, she straightened her back and covered her mouth. “Oh, pardon me.”
“Fuck off.”
She laughed and pointed at him. “Even that sounds posh.”
Michael didn’t reply.
***
When Michael lay back
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