Page 64 of The Alpha Escort Agency
So she’s going to be fine, isn’t she?
Chapter 18
He stumbles through the bar, the noise of the people, the stink of their scents, loud in his ears and strong in his nose. At least nobody knows him. At least nobody else had to see his humiliation. Another woman stamping on his heart. Another woman he loved discarding him like the piece of rubbish he is.
Why did he listen to his nan? He knew deep in his heart it would go this way. How could it have gone any other?
He is a fool for letting himself raise his hopes like this. A damn fool for opening his heart and letting her in.
The tightly packed room seems to part to let him through, as if the people read the pain on his face and retreat, not wanting to catch whatever sadness has infected him, and soon he is at the door, stepping out into the bitterly cold night.
He scurries to the tube, chin tucked down into the collar of his coat, hands bunched into fists in his pockets, and joins the back of the queue waiting to enter the tube station.
He breathes in through his nose, the freezing air scooting down his throat and into his lungs, seeming to encase his heart with coldness. The warmth, the fire that had been beginning to smolder, just starting to build and burn, now flickering and waning, and he shivers violently as the heat leaves him and the coldness returns.
???
25 years ago
He’s sitting on the windowsill, even though his nan has called from the kitchen several times for him to get down. But each time he does, his eagerness has him climbing back up there to lean his forehead against the pane of glass and peer down the street.
The clock in the corner of the room is ticking rapidly and although he can’t read the face, he knows it’s soon because, after he'd finished his lunch, his nan had combed his hair and washed his face and hands with a flannel.
As soon as he was excused, he’d rushed to the front door and fished out his trainers from the cabinet, lining them up on the mat so he’ll be ready to go immediately when she comes. It’s been a long time since he saw her last.
He can’t quite remember how it happened. The visits to stay with his nan and grandad had grown longer and longer until he thinks he lives here now. He’s heard them say that to his teacher, to a neighbour. Never to him. He guesses he should feel sad, but he likes it here. There are rules. He understands what will happen and when. He knows what he can and can’t do. And people keep their promises.
Still, he misses her. Nobody can make him laugh like his mummy. Only she knows the spot beneath his chin that is his most ticklish. His weak spot. The one she lunges for when she chases him around the flat pretending to be a monster. And he misses climbing into her bed on the nights it’s filled with just her and snuggling into her warm body. He’s too shy to do that here. When he can’t sleep in this house, he stares at the ceiling, watching dark frightening shadows pass above him.
Today, she’s taking him to the fair. When she called last week and asked him what he wanted for his birthday that is what he chose. Because he knows they will have fun there together, him and her. She’ll scream loudly on the rides and wave her hands in the air and will tell him to do the same. And she’ll buy him all the ice cream and candy floss his nan says is bad for him.
He’s not bothered about a new toy — though he’d quite like a ninja turtle or a transformer — he’d rather have this.
Because every day on the way to and from school, they’ve passed the field where the fairground lies silent, and his excitement has grown so that he bounces up and down as soon as they swerve the corner and the Ferris wheel comes into sight. There are bumper cars too and a haunted house that his grandad says tips and moves as you make your way through it.
The light is already fading and, when they get there today, the fairground will be all lit up with bright lights and the pound of pop music will fill their ears.
Another car bumbles down the road, but it doesn’t stop outside their house. The clock’s tick seems slower, tired. His grandad comes in and asks him if he wants to watch one of the films he got for his birthday.
He keeps staring at the empty street. He knows what this means. He’s not dumb.
“Has something happened to Mummy?” he asks, trying to stop his lip from trembling the way it does when he knows he might cry.
“I don’t know, lad.” His grandad comes and stands next to him, his enormous hands encapsulating his waist as he lifts him down from the ledge. He sighs as he does, and Rory wonders if he’s cross with him. “She’s late.”
“She’s always late,” Rory says, squirming from his grip and making to climb back up. “She’ll be here.”
“I’m sure she will be, but how about we do something fun while you wait? Isn’t it boring sitting here?”
Rory shakes his head, and finds his front wobbly tooth with his tongue, worrying at it in his gum.
Then his nan comes into the doorway and from the corner of his eye he can see the worried looks that pass between the grownups and he blinks hard, swallowing a lump in his throat.
“How about you have the last piece of your birthday cake?” his nan says, her voice softer than her usual bossy tone.
He ignores her, watching as a car flicks on its headlights and reverses out of a driveway, the beams swinging across the road.
She comes and stands right behind him and rests her hand on his shoulder. “You know you should come and eat it because if you don’t I expect your grandad will wolf it down and I won’t be able to stop him.”
