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stumbling into the wall. Before I knew what had happened, Zoe was there, hooking my arm around her shoulders and helping me to my bedroom.
    “You should have a lie-down. Chill for a bit.”
    “Maybe I’ll just rest my eyes for a minute.” I sank back into my pillows, sleep claiming me almost instantly.
    34

Chapter Five
    Zoe worked in the restaurant all day Saturday, so we didn’t get to go shopping until Sunday. It’d been a couple of years since I’d walked around the pedestrianised centre of Reading, but aside from an awful lot more mobile phone shops than I remembered, nothing much seemed to have changed. The April sunshine lit up the same grand old buildings and gilded the same crowds meandering around and spilling out onto the pavements outside coffee shops and bars.
    It was me who was different.
    Every step seemed to take an enormous effort. Zoe kept tugging on my arm, as if she was desperate to get to whichever store was going to make a dent in my bank balance next. I suppose we were working to a bit of a tight schedule, as I needed to be back home by two o’clock to drain my belly.
    As we passed Marks and Sparks, I peered down the road, hoping for a glimpse of the bar I used to frequent with the guys from work. It hadn’t been a particularly gay-friendly bar—although I got a definite vibe off one of the bartenders—but it had been great for picking up a gram of coke before heading somewhere a shade pinker. Nostalgia welled up inside me. Not for the drugs and the mindless hookups that followed, but for the sense of opportunity and hope those evenings always began with.
    “Come on, Benj. I want to check out what they’ve got in Gap. There were these really smart gilets in the window a few weeks ago, and I reckon you’d rock that look.”
    “Gilets? What the hell’s a gilet?”
    Zoe rolled her eyes. “Gawd, and there was me thinking gay blokes were meant to know all about fashion. Whatever would Gok Wan make of you?”
    “Dunno, but I doubt even he’d be willing to tell me I look good naked.”
    “Could we lose the self-pity for a while, please? There’s nothing wrong with the way you look. You’ve got a nice face, and you’re tall with broad shoulders.
    Case closed.”
    Since I didn’t want to go into the way the catheter tube stuck out of me like an alien growth, or the bald patch I had to keep shaving on my belly so I could stick the tube down, I wisely decided to change the subject. I was probably far too obsessed with my lower abdomen, but as it was so close to my favourite part of my anatomy, could I be blamed?
    “Zo, I know you’re used to spending all day on your feet, but I need a rest.
    I’m all shopped out, and these bags are heavy.” They really were as well. I had three large bags on each arm, all stuffed full of clothing that Zoe assured me I simply had to buy.
    She looked like she was about to protest, but then something melted, and she gave a wry smile. “Sorry. You do look a bit pale. Okay, how about here? Unless you’d rather find a Starbucks or a Nero?”
    Here was a rather homespun, ramshackle-looking place that I’d probably not have looked twice at back in the day, but right then, I was so exhausted I’d have been willing to stop at a bloody MacDonald’s.
    As the outdoor tables were all packed full of smokers and those desperate to banish their winter pallor with the spring sunshine, we headed inside. I collapsed into a chair at the nearest free table I could find while Zoe stacked the bags onto a spare chair for me.
    36
     
    She glanced around. “Looks like it’s waiter service. If someone takes our order while I’m on the bog, could you get me a decaf skinny latte with a shot of hazelnut?” She left for the toilets before I had a chance to protest at being left to order the most girly drink possible, short of one with cocktail umbrellas and plastic parrots in it.
    I was staring at the menu, trying to decide whether a fruit smoothie would take me over my