Prick

As she made her way upstairs to bed, Xavier’s words pricked at something in her mind, but it was a loose swirl of cobwebby information which evaded her grasp, dissolving like vapour and slipping away. She sighed. It was no use trying to retrieve whatever it was her unconscious was signalling, she supposed it would come back to her eventually.

‘Did you get anything else out of him?’ asked Joe sleepily from beneath the duvet.

‘No, not really. Something’s nagging at me though, something I should  be paying attention to. Just can’t think what it is,’ she said, gathering up Joe’s clothes from the floor and dumping them on his chair. ‘Honestly Joe, I think it would be easier to train a monkey to be tidy, than you.’

‘We’ve had this conversation before,’ he said. ‘Those things are only going in the laundry bin-’

‘Yes, but they don’t magically jump in there by themselves. Why can’t you put things away where they belong?’

‘But you love me anyway, don’t you?’

She flung a pillow at him which he fielded and tucked behind his head. They continued to bicker amiably as she prepared for bed.

‘I know what it was,’ she said, settling beside him. ‘Where did the cool box end up? Did you put it back into the utility room?’

‘Don’t remember - why?’

‘I  was just thinking - it’s still got that syringe of stuff in it, hasn’t it?’

’Suppose so.’

’Tomorrow I’m going to fish it out and put it somewhere more secure.’ She stifled a yawn. ‘Are you going to read or shall I put the light out?’

A gentle snore indicated Joe wasn’t going to be reading tonight.