Grown Attached

“I should go home…” Ric managed to tell Zubin, standing up unsteadily. “Where’s my keys?” he added, feeling in his pocket. “You got them?”

“I think Diane’s got ’em… but you can’t drive, you’re hammered,” Zubin told him, only marginally less drunk than his friend. “I’ll call you a taxi.”

“I can do it myself,” Ric insisted, reaching for his phone. “Who’s got my phone?”

Zubin shot him a glance. “It’s in your other hand.”

Ric looked embarrassed. “I knew that.”

Zubin laughed. “You’re going to have one hell of a hangover tomorrow, you know.”

“I can deal with it.”

But, by the time Ric was in his taxi, he was feeling slightly the worse for wear. “Why didn’t you stop me drinking?” he demanded of Zubin, as he helped him in.

“It’s not my fault!” Zubin defended himself. “If you want to blame someone, blame Diane! She was there when you were drinking the bar dry, she didn’t stop you.”

Ric shrugged. “Fine. It’s Diane’s fault.”

“Do you want to go somewhere sometime tonight?” the taxi driver asked, annoyed.

“Yes…” Ric replied, slowly.

“Where?” the driver prompted.

“Ah…” Ric thought for a moment, and gave Diane’s address.

Zubin smiled. “Diane’s not going to be too happy if you turn up on her doorstep at three in the morning.”

“Tough.” Ric laid his head back on the seat, and closed his eyes, trying to drown out the hammering in his head. “My head…” he mumbled.

By the time the taxi drew up outside Diane’s front door, nearly twenty minutes later, he felt as though he was going to be sick. He stumbled out, and pushed a few notes into the driver’s hand, not bothering to take notice of what they were. He didn’t care if he’d just paid with two fifty-pound notes; all he wanted to do was lie down.

He staggered up the path, and rang the doorbell. He leant against the wall for a moment, waiting to hear signs of life inside. He saw a light flicker on upstairs, and heard footsteps on the stairs. The door opened just a crack, and Diane, wearing pyjamas and a dressing gown, peered out. “Ric? What the hell are you doing here?” She opened the door to let him in.

“I feel sick,” he told her, plaintively.

She looked at him. “I’m not surprised. How much did you drink?” She took his arm and led him in. “Let’s get you some coffee or something.”

“I don’t want coffee… I just want to lie down…” he mumbled.

Diane laughed. “Don’t you have a bed in your own house?”

“Yeah… but I wanted some sympathy as well,” he admitted.

She smiled and stroked his arm. “Oh, you poor baby, you’ve got a hangover and it’s all your own fault,” she teased. “That any good?”

“I meant real sympathy, but you get an A for effort,” he joked.

“Thanks.” She passed him a glass of water. “Drink that. Want an aspirin?”

“Not really.” He accepted the tablet nevertheless. “Thanks for this, Diane.”

“What did you expect me to do? Leave you standing outside?” she laughed. “C’mon, let’s go sit down.” As she led him through to the lounge and curled herself up on a sofa, she smiled at him. “So, why did you come here?”

He shrugged, seating himself next to her. “Well, it’s your fault that I’m this drunk.”

She shot him a confused look. “How?”

He paused. “I forget.” He smiled apologetically. “It made sense at the time. Ask Zubin.”

She laughed. “You’re hammered, aren’t you?”

“Well… yes and no. But… not so much no. So… well, yes.” He laid his head back on the sofa, and closed his eyes.

Diane glanced tenderly at him. “Do you want me to leave you to sleep?”

“No…” He forced his eyes open. “I don’t wanna sleep on a sofa. I’ll go home.”

“I do have a spare bed, y’know,” Diane told him. “And there’s no way I’m letting you go home like that. You’d probably collapse face down in a flower bed or something.”

Ric laughed. “I wouldn’t.” He looked at her. “Would you mind if I stayed, though?”

“Not at all.” She smiled. “I’ll just go and tidy up in the guest room… see if I can unearth the bed,” she added, laughing.

Ric laughed. “Thanks.” He followed her up the stairs. “You should really tidy up more often, Diane.”

“I only moved in recently…”

He glanced at her. “Eighteen months ago?”

“Well. Yeah.” She shrugged, and opened the door to the guest room. “Sorry about the mess.”

Ric glanced in. “Well, I’m not sure if I’ve got double vision because of the excessive alcohol, or if the room is really that messy.”

Diane laughed. “Probably a bit of both.” She sat down on the bed, after moving a pile of papers out of the way, and patted the space next to her. “Sit. And don’t throw up in my messy room.”

He laughed. “I won’t. I’ll not to, anyway.”

“You do that.” Diane kicked a few boxes underneath the bed, and noticed that Ric was lying down with his eyes half-closed. “Now then, I’d love to stay and chat, but I was asleep, and… well, I’m very tired.” She stood up and stroked his arm. “Night.”

“Love you,” he mumbled, feeling sleep wash over him.

Diane, standing by the door, whirled around. “I beg your pardon?”

Ric snored softly, and Diane smiled to herself. “Cute,” she said, and sat down on the bed, watching him. He was cute. Kind of. She would never say it to him whilst he was awake though. She gently pulled the duvet over him, and stroked his hair, feeling slightly nostalgic… she couldn’t help but think of the past, their shared past…

She shook her head to rid herself of the feelings, and stood up. “’Night, babe,” she whispered. “Sleep well.” He snored in response, and she smiled. She kissed his cheek tenderly, and left the room quickly.

It was nearly six a.m. when she awoke to see a figure in her doorway. Used to sleeping in an empty house, she jumped to the conclusion that there was an intruder, and screamed, throwing a pillow towards the figure. Utter panic filled her for a few seconds.

“Diane, Diane, it’s me,” Ric reassured her, catching the pillow before it hit him.

She nodded, trying to calm herself, feeling her heart racing. “What’s the matter?” she asked, slightly breathless.

“I really scared you, didn’t I?” he asked, sitting down on the edge of the bed.

“I’m fine. Are you alright?” She wasn’t used to this.

“I was wondering where you kept your paracetamol, or aspirin, or ibuprofen, or… anything that might get rid of this hangover.” He groaned, and moved further up the bed, sitting next to her.

She laughed. “I’ve got some in that drawer there,” she informed him, pointing.

“You’re an angel.” He rummaged in the drawer for a moment, leafing through bank statements, odd socks, and address books, until he found a packet of pills. “Got any water?”

“Bathroom.” She pointed, and he disappeared for a moment, returning a moment later with a glass of water.

“Thanks, Diane,” he said, sitting next to her again. He laid his head against the headboard, and she laughed.

“Don’t get too cosy, Mr Griffin,” she teased.

“Why not, pray tell, Miss Lloyd?” he asked, playing along.

“Because I’m sleepy and will probably either fall asleep while you’re here, or end up kicking you out so that I can sleep,” she replied, yawning. Although she would never have told him, she did quite like the fact that he was there with her.

“I’ll go then,” he said, getting up clumsily, and stroking her hair. “Sleep well.”

“Night,” she mumbled, her eyes already closing. Within a few seconds, she was awoken by a loud noise from the other side of the house. She sat up. “Ric?” A low moan answered her. She climbed out of bed. “I’m coming!” she called.

She found him sprawled out over two boxes in the hallway. “I’m so sorry,” she said, bending down next to him. “I should have tidied up, I am so sorry, Ric. Are you ok?”

“In pain,” he murmured. “Ouch.” He sat up. “That hurt.”

She took his arm and helped him up. “Okay, let’s get you back to bed. More carefully this time. I'm sorta attached to you, I don't really want to have to watch you kill yourself.” She walked slowly back to his room with him, and waited for him to lie down. “Y’know, the sun’s coming up.”

“I’m sorry I interrupted your sleep,” he said, smiling at her.

“It’s ok. I’d rather have my sleep interrupted than wake up tomorrow to find that you’d killed yourself in a drink-driving accident.” She smiled and sat down.

“Last night was fun, wasn’t it?” Ric asked, upon seeing that Diane meant to stay for a while.

She scooted up the bed towards him, and leant against him. “It was. Although I could have done without Richard Smedley.”

“You certainly told him where to go,” Ric laughed, and put his arm around Diane.

“He deserved it,” she replied, glaring at the ceiling.

“He certainly did.” Ric paused. “No, I meant… y’know…” He trailed off.

“Dancing?” she suggested. “Spending money you don’t have? Watching Zube make a fool of himself in that silly dress thing?” She paused. “Although he did look very handsome in it…”

Ric groaned. “You’re not going to be lusting after him next, are you?”

“I think Kath would have something to say if I did,” Diane commented.

“Kath? Kath Fox?”

“Yeah, she’s got her eye on him,” Diane informed him, cuddling closer to Ric. “Ah, this is comfy.”

“It is.” Ric smiled down at her, and she smiled up at him. Slowly, Ric leaned in to kiss her. She pulled away, looking down.

“You’re drunk,” she stated. “I don’t want you to do something you’ll regret when you’re sober.”

“I’m not drunk. I’m hung over. There’s a difference.”

She made a face at him. “Are you sure? Because when you’re drunk, you…”

He began to play with her hair. “I know what I’m doing. And I know that I wouldn’t be embarrassed about this, or regret it. Ever.”

She smiled shyly. “You mean that?”

“Diane, my one regret regarding you is that I let you go,” he told her, sincerely. She looked up at him, touched. “I mean it. If you don’t want to, then I won’t…”

She hesitated. “I couldn’t lose you again.”

“And I couldn’t lose you.” He looked into her eyes. “Diane, if you don’t want this, then just say so, and I’ll go, we’ll never talk about this again…”

Diane put a finger on his lips. “Ric, I want it more than anything.” She leaned her head against his chest. “But… just… this has to work out, okay? Can you promise that we would never break up, that nothing would ever happen? Because that’s the only way I could go into this.”

“I love you,” he whispered. “I can’t promise anything, but I love you. And I would never intentionally hurt you. Is that enough?”

She shrugged. “It’ll do,” she teased.

Outside, the sun began to rise.