Page 91 of All Right No
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“You’re leaving? But you’ve only just got here.”
Ash hated the disappointment in his mam’s voice. He hated to let her down in any way, especial at Christmas, but staying put simply wasn’t an option. He couldn’t be here and give her what she wanted. She’d taught him how to fake a smile in the face of adversity, but there were some situations where a smile couldn’t carry you through. You could smile through the repercussions of a blown valve on a water pipe, but not the damage of having your heart torn out. It amazed him that when he looked down, there wasn’t a gaping hole in his chest and blood stains on the floor around the lump of meat that he wished he didn’t possess.
Everyone left. Everyone betrayed him. That was his lot in life, to be cast off and left behind. To be a constant sucker.
And to think that for about an hour he thought he had it made. That ought to have been warning enough to realise something major was on the horizon.
He needed solitude to process this.
“Let the lad go, Sarah. He can’t help it if something’s cropped up, and we’re not exactly best prepared for guests.”
“But the water’s turned off now. It’ll not take us long to clear up.”
“Aye, we have, but the problem’s not fixed, and it’s not going to be until the shops are open again so that we can get the part, and we probably ought to leave the electric off until we have everything dried out. It’s going to be a damp and soggy Christmas, and it’s way too late to be thinking about alternative arrangements.”
Dad had overheard, Ash was pretty certain about that, and now he was doing his best to be supportive without explicitly letting on that he’d eavesdropped on the last few minutes of conversation between his son and his girlfriend.
“But,” his mam clung to him. “We’ve not even had a chance to sit down with a cuppa yet, and I’ve not seen you in forever. Aw, let me take a look at you properly. Will they need you for long? What in heaven’s name is so essential on Christmas Eve?”
“I’m not sure.” There was noyou, he’d been called away by, but he’d made sure not to lie to her either. He was merely allowing her to make assumptions about the band and failing to correct them.
“You’ll be in touch soon, so we can arrange another day?”
He nodded. “The tour starts on the 29th, but I’ll try to pop in before I have to fly to Norway.”
“Do your best, but we’ll be fine if you can’t manage it. All right, son?” His dad patted him on the back, while giving him a one-armed hug. His mam nearly squeezed him in two, she clung onto him so zealously.
“Nice meeting you, dear.” She hugged Ginny too.
Ash dug a groove into his lip and bit back the nausea welling up from his stomach.
As his parents were both watching their exodus, Ash had no choice but to get into the taxi he’d summoned along with Ginny. He stayed in the vehicle, only long enough for them to leave the cul-de-sac and be out of sight of his parent’s place before he asked the driver to pull over so he could get out. He threw a couple of twenties down on the front passenger seat. “Take her wherever she wants to go.”
“Ash,” Ginny attempted to speak to him, but they didn’t have anything else to say to one another. Everything he’d believed existed between them had turned out to be fake. He slammed the car door and turned away. The taxi cruised past him a few seconds later.
Ash made the five minute walk into the town centre, where he stopped at the petrol station—the only place still open—then called another cab to ride out into the sticks. He knew where he was going. The one place he was sure he wouldn’t be disturbed.
The taxi driver asked him thrice if he was sure this was where he wanted dropping when they pulled up in the lane by Xane’s infamous bolt hole. From the road, it didn’t look much like a house. An artist might kindly describe it as a hermitage, but what it really resembled was a dilapidated shed. Thankfully, the outward façade wasn’t reflected in the interior.
Ash searched for the key where he knew it was kept but couldn’t lay his hands on it. Suspicions raised, and his mood so far into his boots that it felt like he was wading through shit, he tried the actual door, and found it unlocked.
Shitting slimeballs! Some fucking bastard had obviously been using it as a cheap Airbnb alternative. He knew it wasn’t Xane here, as he, Dani and Luthor had headed south to spend Christmas with the bit of Xane’s family he actually got along with. Spook, was on a plane to Sweden by now, Paul would be unrolling his bed mat in some tent, and Liam had headed to Hartlepool to visit his gran.
Ash searched around outside and found himself a stout stick, which he used to push open the door. There were no lights on, so whoever was squatting had either heard him coming, or was out at the moment.
Ash slid into the corridor, and traversed its length with his back to the wall. It wasn’t a very big building, just a combined kitchen-lounge area, and a bedroom with an en suite down below.
He could hear someone breathing, chuffing away like an asthmatic steam train.
He neared the corner, caught a glimpse of movement in the glass of the photo-frames on the opposite wall, and launched himself into the room.
“Paul!”
“Ash!”
“What the fuck!”
