The Mercer's House (Northern Gothic Book 1) by Antonia Frost Page A

sank.
    ‘Garrett, please don’t,’ she said.
    ‘I can’t help it,’ he said. ‘I’m not annoying you, am I? I thought I was being pretty inoffensive.’
    ‘Of course you’re not offensive,’ she said. ‘But—’
    ‘Well, then, just let me get on with it. Pretend you haven’t noticed if you must—although I’d rather you just gave up now and saved us both some time.’
    ‘It’s not going to happen, Garrett.’
    ‘Oh, yes it is,’ he said. ‘You will be mine one day, by hook or by crook. By a process of attrition if necessary.’
    ‘I don’t even know what that means,’ said Zanna.
    ‘It means I’m going to wear you down,’ he said.
    ‘I’d much rather you didn’t. What sort of a way is that to win over a woman? Besides, I’m not what you need,’ she said. ‘I’m a mess. I’m in no condition to be conducting a relationship with anyone, least of all someone I care about as a friend.’
    ‘You’re exactly what I need. And yes, you’re a mess, and that’s why you need me too, whether you know it or not. Someone has to look after you.’
    ‘I can look after myself,’ she said. ‘Really, I can.’
    She was starting to feel slightly alarmed at his persistence, and he must have seen it because the petulant look which had started to spread over his face disappeared, and he smiled.
    ‘I’m sorry,’ he said. ‘Was I being a bit over-intense? It must be all the coffee I had this morning. Caffeine bad. Herbal tea good.’ He held up his hands. ‘OK, I’ll shut up. Look, this is me backing off. How far shall I go? I’ll leave if you like.’
    ‘Don’t be ridiculous,’ she said. ‘You know I’m happy for you to stay. Just as long as you toe the line.’
    ‘Consider it toed,’ he said. He gave her his most winning look. ‘Friends?’
    ‘Of course,’ she said, although inwardly she was sighing at her inability to get rid of him. She had agreed to his friendship, but she knew it was mainly out of guilt at how she’d treated him. He was kind and helpful and funny, but he made her feel uncomfortable, and in reality—even if she didn’t like to admit it to herself—she would have preferred not to see him again. And now she was beginning to feel crowded by him. It was difficult: if she was too friendly he took it as encouragement, but if she was cool he accused her of not taking the friendship seriously. She kicked herself for her cowardice in not telling him straight out that she wanted him to leave. Still, there was nothing that could be done about it now. Here they were thrown together, in a manner of speaking, but once they were back in London she would do her best to distance herself from him once and for all. It would be better for them both.
    They got out of the car and walked down the High Street in the direction of the Coach and Horses.
    ‘Hang on,’ said Garrett, as they passed a newsagent. ‘I’m just going to get some chewing-gum and a scratchcard.’
    It was a tiny shop, so Zanna stood outside while he went in. The clouds overhead were greyer now and the air was cooler, and the heatwave was evidently drawing to an end. Zanna was glad she had packed some warmer clothes, and made a mental note to change into them when she got back to the hotel. She had drifted a little way down the street, and was again looking in the window of the nautical souvenir shop when she glanced up and saw Will coming in her direction, pushing Corbin Devereux in a wheelchair. They stopped to say hello.
    ‘You’re looking a bit better,’ said Will, regarding her narrowly. ‘You looked like you were going to die this morning.’
    He was obviously not a man for compliments, but Zanna took the remark in the spirit in which he presumably meant it.
    ‘Thanks. I felt better once I’d had some lunch,’ she said.
    ‘Have you been out?’ he said.
    ‘We went to Corbridge.’
    ‘Nice.’
    ‘Yes. We found a lovely shop there but I didn’t get the chance to browse, because Garrett just stood there