her, but Rosie had protested – if the scumbags were determined to get her, they’d already know by now where she lived. She couldn’t live her life moving house every time she felt under threat. Her entire working life was on the move – if not in the UK, then abroad on some investigation or refugee camp in a far-flung land. She needed somewhere to come home to, not some sterile crash pad, she told McGuire. Her own place, with all her own things, her clutter, was her sanctuary, where she could feel grounded. She hadn’t mentioned that now, more than ever, she needed something that was rooted, because at the moment she didn’t have TJ on the other end of the phone in his Glasgow flat, or cooking dinner for her or meeting her after work for a drink. Right now, that seemed like a long time ago – but it wasn’t. She rested her head back, letting out a long breath as she reflected on her last telephone call to him in New York nearly two months ago. She’d replayed it in her head so many times while she was in Bosnia, hoping it would lessen the impact. But it never did. If ever anybody knew how to fuck up their life, it was her. She re-ran it again:
‘What do you mean, you’re going to Bosnia, Rosie? Why are you not coming here?’
TJ’s tone had been somewhere between bewilderment and hurt. It wasn’t an easy question to answer
.
‘It’s just a spur-of-the-moment thing, TJ. Try to understand,’ she said. ‘I’ve got to go tomorrow. I need to get out of here.’
‘Bullshit, Rosie. You could go to London for a couple of days, hide up in a hotel, then get to New York. Don’t insult my intelligence. I can see what’s going on here . . . I—’
Rosie interrupted. ‘TJ, nothing’s going on. What the hell do you mean by that?’
But the truth was she didn’t even know herself why she’d phoned Adrian instead of TJ when McGuire had told her she had to leave the country
.
‘Why did you phone Adrian? Why not me? It’s that simple, Rosie.’ He sounded hurt now
.
‘I know . . . I know it sounds simple. But I . . . I . . . didn’t want to come to New York. I mean . . . the way you live, the work at the club, the hours you keep. That’s not what I want right now. I want to be away somewhere I know I can be safe. My head is all over the place after all that shit in Spain. You know that.’
‘You’d be safe here. We could be together every day. Every night . . .’ His voice trailed off. ‘Christ, Rosie!’
There was a long silence, then TJ spoke
.
‘Is there something going on with Adrian and you? I know you’re close, I know he means a lot to you with everything you’ve been through. If I’m honest, it’s crossed my mind before.’
‘What? Jesus, TJ! Nothing’s ever happened between me and Adrian. I promise.’ Rosie wanted to hit back. ‘And anyway, what about the time I called you and Kat was in your apartment over there? You managed not to tell me that.’
‘I told you. It wasn’t important.’
‘What wasn’t?’ Anger, jealousy and paranoia simmered. She knew she was going too far, but she couldn’t stop herself. ‘Have you been involved with her?’
‘Fuck’s sake, Rosie. How many times . . .’
‘Just tell me.’
‘I told you I won’t discuss anything like that with you. It’s irrelevant.’
‘But you ask me about Adrian?’
‘Because you’re in the middle of a crisis, with your life at risk, and you’re fucking off to see him and not me. That tells me a lot.’
‘It tells you nothing – other than the fact that I don’t want to be in New York.’
‘With me.’
‘TJ . . . I can’t do this right now.’
There was a long pause, and she could hear him breathing
.
‘You know what, Rosie. I can’t do it either. I . . . I can’t do it at all . . . Maybe we should both take the next couple of months to think about things. To be honest, I told you a long time ago you weren’t ready. And you know what? You’re still not ready. I don’t think you’ll
‘What do you mean, you’re going to Bosnia, Rosie? Why are you not coming here?’
TJ’s tone had been somewhere between bewilderment and hurt. It wasn’t an easy question to answer
.
‘It’s just a spur-of-the-moment thing, TJ. Try to understand,’ she said. ‘I’ve got to go tomorrow. I need to get out of here.’
‘Bullshit, Rosie. You could go to London for a couple of days, hide up in a hotel, then get to New York. Don’t insult my intelligence. I can see what’s going on here . . . I—’
Rosie interrupted. ‘TJ, nothing’s going on. What the hell do you mean by that?’
But the truth was she didn’t even know herself why she’d phoned Adrian instead of TJ when McGuire had told her she had to leave the country
.
‘Why did you phone Adrian? Why not me? It’s that simple, Rosie.’ He sounded hurt now
.
‘I know . . . I know it sounds simple. But I . . . I . . . didn’t want to come to New York. I mean . . . the way you live, the work at the club, the hours you keep. That’s not what I want right now. I want to be away somewhere I know I can be safe. My head is all over the place after all that shit in Spain. You know that.’
‘You’d be safe here. We could be together every day. Every night . . .’ His voice trailed off. ‘Christ, Rosie!’
There was a long silence, then TJ spoke
.
‘Is there something going on with Adrian and you? I know you’re close, I know he means a lot to you with everything you’ve been through. If I’m honest, it’s crossed my mind before.’
‘What? Jesus, TJ! Nothing’s ever happened between me and Adrian. I promise.’ Rosie wanted to hit back. ‘And anyway, what about the time I called you and Kat was in your apartment over there? You managed not to tell me that.’
‘I told you. It wasn’t important.’
‘What wasn’t?’ Anger, jealousy and paranoia simmered. She knew she was going too far, but she couldn’t stop herself. ‘Have you been involved with her?’
‘Fuck’s sake, Rosie. How many times . . .’
‘Just tell me.’
‘I told you I won’t discuss anything like that with you. It’s irrelevant.’
‘But you ask me about Adrian?’
‘Because you’re in the middle of a crisis, with your life at risk, and you’re fucking off to see him and not me. That tells me a lot.’
‘It tells you nothing – other than the fact that I don’t want to be in New York.’
‘With me.’
‘TJ . . . I can’t do this right now.’
There was a long pause, and she could hear him breathing
.
‘You know what, Rosie. I can’t do it either. I . . . I can’t do it at all . . . Maybe we should both take the next couple of months to think about things. To be honest, I told you a long time ago you weren’t ready. And you know what? You’re still not ready. I don’t think you’ll
Similar Books
