Total pages in book: 106
Estimated words: 101205 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 506(@200wpm)___ 405(@250wpm)___ 337(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 101205 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 506(@200wpm)___ 405(@250wpm)___ 337(@300wpm)
The others were hitting Blackthorn’s Bar – a nightclub down Ponton Road – and we shouldn’t do it. Even Chloe was hesitant as the others started their walk. It was Vickie who grabbed her hand and started with the come onnnnn.
I’d have let her head on alone if she hadn’t looked up at me with such pleading eyes. Her speech didn’t match her gaze, it was more of a ‘I completely get it if you don’t want to go, and we can go home to your mum, and…’ but it was her excitement, her enthusiasm, her zest about me coming along with her that stole my senses. I started following the group of nurses, still in uniform, Chloe’s hand still clasped in mine.
“I can manage one more drink,” I said, and she grabbed me tight, arms flung around my waist as we set off down the street.
I was still in my suit as we headed into Blackthorn’s. The others were still in blouses and sensible shoes and hair tied up neatly. It made no difference whatsoever. They were up and alive, hitting the retro disco tunes with a rush up onto the dancefloor as soon as we were done at the bar. Vickie grabbed Chloe and dragged her on up there, and Chloe flashed me a smile on the way, beckoning me to go with her. But no. My idea of fun didn’t stretch quite that far.
The club was loud, and the tunes were pulsing with bass, and I watched my jitterbug jittering to the beat along with her friends. That’s when it hit me all over again, just how much younger than me she was. Her early twenties showed loud and clear as she jumped and twisted and sang along to the words, caught up in the moment well and truly as she found her groove with the others.
She was alive. She was wild. She was free.
She was a beautiful dancer, and a beautiful girl, fresh-faced with a whole world ahead of her, stretching as far as the eye could see.
The men in the club were staring. People were edging closer to her on the dancefloor, and she was oblivious, flashing me glances and waves right through the songs. Still, they were looking, still they were edging closer. She could have had any of them, and sure, most of them would be morons, and plenty of them would be assholes, but there would be some men out there who would be everything a girl like Chloe could want for the rest of her life.
I just wasn’t that man.
I could never be that man.
I was silent as I sipped my wine, caught up in the happiness of watching that stunning woman enjoying her night, mixed with the sadness at knowing we could never be forever.
She was out of breath when she dropped herself into the seat at my side, swinging her arms around my neck as she came in for a kiss.
“Let’s go home,” she said.
Home.
I only wished it could be her home for keeps as well as mine.
We said goodbye to the others and headed out into the street, and Chloe was laughing and joking all the way to the taxi, telling me just how much she’d enjoyed the night.
We were in the backseat of the cab by the time I pulled my phone from my jacket pocket, totally unaware of just how much the bass from the tunes had hidden the ringtone.
There were seven missed calls from Olivia. My heart turned to stone, that zip of panic up your spine as you realise there’s trouble awaiting.
“Faster, please,” I said to the cab driver, and hit the call back icon.
“What is it?” Chloe asked, tensing up alongside me.
“Olivia?” I asked as she answered, and her voice was fast. Edgy.
Mum wasn’t good. Swollen legs and shallow breaths, insistent she didn’t want the hospital.
My palms were sweaty when we pulled up outside my place. Chloe was a dash on her feet alongside me as we headed inside and straight up to Mum’s bedroom. Sure enough, Mum’s tiny frame was rasping, even more so than usual. Her feet were propped up on pillows at the bottom of the bed, but it didn’t make a difference. Her ankles were swollen and she was yellowing, clear as day under the lamplight.
“I’m so sorry,” Olivia said. “I didn’t have Chloe’s number, and I hoped you’d be home soon, and Jackie insisted she didn’t want an ambulance.”
“It’s ok,” I told her. “The apologies are mine to give. I had no idea you were trying to call me.”
Chloe was hovering as I took a seat at Mum’s side and began to take her temperature. Olivia had left the room for fresh juice when my jitterbug stepped up to me and put a hand on my shoulder. Her eyes were tearing up.