Circus Read Free Page B

wants to hug Penny and punch Garry, so he settles for tapping the table weirdly with his fist. “Bloody. Fucking. Bastard!”
    “No, don’t worry, Henry. It’s just this cold. I’m not really that upset, somehow. I guess there was part of me that must have thought about the possibility of things going south. But it was nice, you know? No need to ruin it by getting all dramatic about the ending. I let him stay the night, but I didn’t want him on the furniture.” She clears her throat, which sounds as though it is full of stones. “He smelled amazing. That’s how I knew. I mean, Garry dresses pretty well, he takes care of himself, but he doesn’t usually smell like jasmine, you know?”
    She’s aiming to make him laugh, but Henry feels so unsettled and unable to help her that he lets out a strange wheeze instead. Henry watches her as she tells the whole story, as she stares out the window and makes an unsuccessful attempt to rearrange her hair. He struggles to quiet his rage at Garry long enough to think of reassuring things to say, but can’t bring himself to interject in case what he does say is the wrong thing. Best just to be here, he decides, and listen for as long as she’ll have him.
    “But it’s fine. I’m good. I really did know all the time it wasn’t a ‘forever’ thing. So I’m good. I’m good. I’m not worried about it.”
    Henry still has no idea what to do, so he gets up and sits beside Penny and puts his arm around her. She leans into his shoulder and tries to suppress a cough. “I’m sorry. I know how you feel about sick people. You’ve been worrying this whole time about catching my cold. And now I think I might be feverish.”
    Henry feels her forehead with the back of his hand, kisses the top of her head, and snuggles her closer. “Yes, a raging temperature. But for you, at a time like this, even I can overlook a virus,” he says, feeling nauseous. He tucks her wild hair behind her ears and closes her laptop with his free hand. “Let me take you home and put you to bed.”
    As they walk back to her flat, Henry holds Penny’s hand. They don’t speak. They cut through Hyde Park and there are geese by the pond, dipping their webbed feet in the water and honking like maniacs. There aren’t many people out, since it’s not terribly warm, and everything seems grey, the hedges and the flowers and especially Penny’s fingers, which must be getting cold. It’s probably a longer stroll than she can comfortably manage in her condition, but it’s too late now, they’re between tube stations. Henry reassures himself that the fresh air will do her good.
    When they turn the corner onto Penny’s street, Henry nudges her, checking in. She gives him a slightly trembling thumbs-up. Henry tries to distract himself by worrying about Linda Rosenberg and what he’ll wear and what time he’ll have to leave to meet her. What kind of coffee-shop pastry can be consumed with grace? Perhaps he will throw caution to the wind and choose something rich, messy, and sweet. But all theLinda Rosenbergs cease to matter as he wraps his arm around Penny’s shoulders so that they hit an even rhythm in their shared stride, as if they’ve practised walking together every day of their lives.

A NNIE LOVES IT . S HE CAN ’ T GET ENOUGH . She could stare and stare at the blue of it all day, just lying on her back with her eyes wide open. There are not many things Annie loves as much as this blue. She loves how the energy-saver light bulb glows like a dying star through the waterproof nylon, how scents from the rest of the house filter in, from time to time, through the mesh windows. She loves the plasticky smell of it, too, and the feel of the carpet through the sturdy plastic on the ground, the way she can stick her sock feet out the front if she wants to. She is open to the elements, but there’s no danger of rain or mosquitoes, no need for thermal underwear or finicky gas lanterns. This is camping at its