(1982) The Almighty (53 page)

‘Right here,’ she said, padding on bare feet to the table and filling the other glass. He had undone his tie, and was unbuttoning his shirt. ‘You know, Vicky -‘

‘You’re staying tonight,’ she said.

He grinned again. ‘I thought you’d never ask.’ He stripped off his shirt. ‘Where’s the bathroom? I see it. Don’t move. I’ll be right back.’

He disappeared into the bathroom.

Victoria bounced herself down on the bed, lay on her back admiring her legs, and humming foolishly.

She’d never felt more light-headed.

She reached over to get the rest of her fifth drink, then poured her sixth, and feeling drowsy after it, poured her seventh and finished it.

Five minutes later, Nick Ramsey came out of the bathroom, naked. ‘Vicky?’

There was no response. He did a half circle around the bed and looked down at her. She was curled on her side under the blanket, eyes shut, breathing nasally. She was sound asleep. Ramsey glanced at the champagne bottle empty. Asleep or passed out.

Smiling, he let her rest, walked to the other side of the bed, and slid under the blanket beside her. She did not stir. Still smiling, he lay back, closed his eyes, and soon he, too, was asleep.

In the early morning, they were both awake and sober - but high - higher and happier, in each other’s arms, than they had ever been in their entire lives.