Page 45 of Under Your Spell

‘No!’ I am aghast. ‘And you’ve read it?’

‘Some of it.’ He looks at me, widens his eyes innocently. ‘What? There’s no need to be so puritanical about it. I have talented fans. Nothing wrong with a bit of finely crafted erotica.’

I make a sort of spluttering noise while trying to convince myself that I won’t be looking any of these stories up later.

We go back to watching the show, and we’re just reaching one of my favourite bits – a pivotal romantic moment and the first kiss between the two main characters – when Theo makes the sort of high-pitched sound that I would previously have only attributed to a teenage girl.

‘What?!’ I ask, startled.

‘This is my song!’ he beams, gesturing at the TV. He grabs the remote and turns the volume up, and there – in the background – is a raspy, velvet voice singing seductively over a slow, pulsing beat. Then that raspy, velvet voice isn’t just on the TV, it’s in the room as he sings along and all of my skin breaks out in goosebumps. Oh, shit. The characters on the screen kiss, and I think, Of course you’re kissing, you dummies! Listen to that man’s voice! I can’t believe you’ve still got any clothes on!

Fortunately, Theo doesn’t notice my meltdown, too busy enjoying the moment, his eyes glued to the screen. ‘My favourite show used one of my songs. That’s pretty cool,’ he says happily.

The spell is thankfully broken by this declaration, and I burst out laughing. ‘Your favourite show? A couple of days ago you wouldn’t even let me put it on.’

‘I’m older now, Clemmie,’ he says earnestly. ‘Wiser.’

‘You’re an idiot,’ I snigger, throwing another piece of popcorn at him.

He doesn’t dignify that with a response, but as he settles back on the sofa he pulls my feet into his lap. Maybe it should feel like a strange thing to do, but it doesn’t. It feels easy, natural.

‘Hey, Theo,’ I say, almost idly.

‘Mmm?’ He doesn’t look away from the TV.

‘Why were you so weird with me when you got here? Did I do something to upset you?’

I feel him tense, but when he turns to look at me his face doesn’t give anything away. ‘No, you didn’t do anything.’ He pauses for a moment, his mouth turned down. ‘I’m sorry if I made you feel that way. I was stressed. I’ve been a bit… anxious.’

I think about that. ‘About the album?’ I venture.

He nods, a quick dip of his chin. I let the silence stretch between us. Ingrid would be proud. ‘I haven’t written anything in a long time,’ he says finally. ‘This album is two years overdue, did you know that?’

‘I didn’t know it was so long,’ I say. No wonder the label is having kittens.

‘Yeah.’ He starts rubbing my foot almost absently, and I feel every cell in my body respond but strive to keep my expression neutral.

‘My last record didn’t do as well as the ones before,’ he explains with a wince, sounding pained by the admission. ‘I want this one to be special. I know I can do better, but for some reason I can’t seem to get started. The longer it goes on, the more pressure there is and now it feels like this huge, impossible obstacle.’ He sighs.

‘This is the label’s last-ditch attempt to get me to focus, then they’re going to want to bring other writers in. I’ve never liked working that way. We did it for years when we were in the band, and I get that it can be great, but for me, that’s the whole point – to make music that’s totally personal. For it to come straight from me, from what I’m feeling.’

I am pretty out of my depth here. What do I know about making music? I might come from a family of musicians, but I’ve done my level best to avoid conversations like this. Already there’s a queasy sensation that this feels too close to things I heard Sam say, but I shove that to the side. Theo is obviously upset. ‘I know it’s not the same thing,’ I say tentatively, ‘but when I’m writing something, I have to try and concentrate on just the little bit in front of me. If I think about the whole thing, it’s too overwhelming.’

It’s the most trite, obvious advice, but Theo smiles sweetly, squeezes my foot in his warm hand. ‘Yeah,’ he says. ‘I guess I just need somewhere to start. It doesn’t have to be perfect.’

‘Right,’ I agree.

He looks at me for another second, his gaze intent on mine, and for some reason my heart rate ratchets up. He takes a deep breath, like he has something important to say, then his eyes slide away.

‘Anyway, it’s your turn to fetch the ice cream,’ is what comes out of his mouth. ‘And don’t even try and fob me off with that sorbet nonsense again.’

Chapter Eighteen

The next day we finally leave the house for a walk on the beach. It’s Theo’s idea, but I am quick to agree. It’s a beautiful, sunny day and we emerge blinking into the light. I hiss like a cat and Theo chuckles.

‘Come on, Drusilla.’ He shakes my elbow. ‘A bit of vitamin D will do you good.’

‘Ugh, you sound like Serena.’