In Bed With Lord Byron

coils of brown into the water. Milk swirled in, and I added sugars: two for me, half for
Anthony. I picked up the mugs and paused to watch an aeroplane slicing through the sky. And for all my tiredness and nerves, a bubble of happiness rose from my stomach and popped, provoking a big
smile.
    I realised then that although my heart, already bruised by Anthony, had taken another beating from Byron, I felt strangely good. Glad to be back; glad to be alive. All the mundane things in life
now seemed thrilling; the ordinary had become extraordinary. My heart dancing, I went into the living room, put down the mugs and impulsively pulled Anthony into a big hug.
    He hugged me back just as tightly – at first. And then, to my shock, he pushed me away firmly.
    ‘Anthony . . .’
    ‘I want to know how long you were cheating on me.’
    ‘What? Anthony, I’ve never cheated on you.’
    ‘Oh really? So that guy who was coming over when I brought that fucking time travel thingummy round – he was just a long-lost brother, was he?’
    ‘No . . .’
    ‘So it
was
a date?’
    ‘Yes . . .’
    ‘Jesus, Lucy, how could you?’
    ‘Anthony, it was just a rebound thing. I literally met him that day – I was so upset about . . . I was just . . . look, we didn’t sleep together, nothing happened.’ I
chewed my lip, thinking of Byron, irrational waves of guilt sweeping over me.
    ‘Really?’
    ‘And what about you?’ I cried. ‘Were you cheating on me?’
    ‘How can you even
ask
?’ His face screwed up in anguish and disbelief. I dropped my eyes in shame; I ought to have known I could always trust his passionate belief in
fidelity.
    ‘I’m sorry,’ I muttered.
    I realised then how much our break-up was killing him. Anthony
never
forgot to shave. His eyes were sunken into his face; he looked as though he hadn’t slept a wink. I had managed
to escape the pain by fleeing off in the time machine; I had had over four weeks to help heal my heart; Anthony had only had forty-eight hours.
    I saw tears in his eyes, and I went over and, very tenderly and very tentatively, gave him a hug. He went limp, his arms dangling by his sides. He was too ashamed of his tears to hug me back; or
perhaps it was that he could not forgive me.
    ‘Anthony – I never cheated on you. Not once, I swear,’ I said.
    ‘You really swear?’
    I looked deep into his eyes and he knew then that I was telling the truth. His arms came up and he hugged me tightly.
    Then we sat down and talked it all through again. How we both needed to have space and move on, but how hard it was going to be for both of us. We agreed that it would be unbearable not to stay
friends. We discussed the issue of me staying on in the flat; I offered to move out, but Anthony insisted I stay for a while longer. We both cried and hugged some more and used up a hundred-odd
tissues and then laughed when we saw the pile.
    ‘I think I need some chocolate,’ I said, and Anthony laughed. ‘I haven’t had chocolate for weeks,’ I added, without thinking.
    ‘Oh, you liar,’ said Anthony, tickling me, and I laughed with relief; everything was going to be OK between us.
    I made some fresh tea and we shared a Kit-Kat, and I had to stop myself from making orgasmic noises at the pleasure of it.
    ‘So this – this rebound guy,’ said Anthony. ‘You think you’ll see him again?’ He saw my face and held up his palms. ‘Lucy, I’m not jealous.
Seriously. I’m not interrogating you. I know I behaved like a jerk, but now I’m just asking.’
    ‘Well, no,’ I sighed. ‘I don’t think I will.’
    ‘Fuck.’ He ran his hand through his hair. ‘I think I need a rebound relationship. The thing is, Lucy – I’m no good at being alone. I thought in my early twenties
that I’d be a lifelong bachelor, end up like Dad. And now here I am, feeling like I need to be with someone.’
    So why did you want to break up with me?
I thought, slightly puzzled.
    ‘I was even thinking,’ he went on, then stopped and flicked me a sidelong glance. ‘You won’t laugh, will you, Luce?’
    ‘I promise,’ I said, my lips already twitching.
    Anthony sighed. ‘Whenever I say, “Promise you won’t laugh, Lucy”, you always crack up.’
    ‘I won’t, I swear, Anthony,’ I cried, on the verge of hysterics already. ‘Just tell me.’
    ‘I want to join a dating site, and I want you to help me fill out my application.’
    My smile died. ‘Anthony, you don’t need to use a dating site!’ I