by Jo Allen
‘See you later,’ Jude said to Tammy.
‘You look after yourself, Chief.’
He ended the call and stuck the phone and both hands deep into his pockets, before turning towards Becca and Adam to show exactly how mature he was and exactly how little he cared. ‘Evening.’
Becca flicked a quick look at him, remembering. ‘It’s your birthday, isn’t it? Happy birthday.’
The two of them had stopped, and she did a little shuffle on the spot, as if she wanted to keep moving. She’d done something to her hair so that it looked blonder than normal, even under the streetlight, and she’d puffed it up so that it looked attractively casual. A whiff of scent drifted across to him. So it was a special night out with Adam, and she’d made an effort. Why shouldn’t she? ‘Thanks.’
‘Oh, of course. Happy birthday.’ Adam, the obvious, the only candidate for those thirty pieces of silver, was pretending to forget. For a moment Jude regretted a lost friendship – a decade of birthday drinks, a long night out in Berlin during a shared Interrail trip, a wild camp on Helvellyn to watch a midsummer sunrise. Change had come upon them too soon. ‘Friends all busy, are they? Or don’t you have any anymore?’
After a few drinks he’d always been a braggart, the big man playing to the gallery. Prison, it appeared, hadn’t done anything to change that, but now there was no audience for him but Becca because Jude wasn’t going to join in. ‘I was working late. I expect I’ll go out for a few pints tomorrow.’ He flicked a look to Becca, who avoided it. If there had been an opportunity, he might still have sought a sympathetic ear from her. She knew Doddsy and was fond of him. I nearly lost my best friend tonight, he might have said to her, and she’d have listened.
Adam took a step forward, his body tense with a sudden shot of aggression, and it was left to Becca to avert confrontation, reaching out a hand to his, fingers just touching as if she held him on an invisible silken leash. ‘Come on, Adam. Let’s go.’
‘I’ll see you about.’ Foregoing the fish and chips, Jude opted for discretion, sliding back into the car and picking up his phone. He’d made a mistake. ‘Ash. Sorry. I wasn’t in a great mood earlier. Can I change my mind?’ She’d been right and he couldn’t bear being alone.
‘Of course.’ She sounded as though she was expecting his call. ‘Come on over. Or would you rather I came to your place?’
His house would be cold and that damning package would be waiting for him on the mat. ‘I’ll come to you, if you don’t mind.’
‘I’m about to order pizza. Shall I get some for you?’
Relief washed over him. ‘Ham and mushroom. Large.’
‘I’ll see you.’
He flicked off the phone, tossed it onto the front seat and headed the short distance to Ashleigh’s house. At the end of Great Dockray he passed Becca and Adam, their touching fingers now a firm hold of hands.
It would have been easy to talk to Becca but she’d made it clear to him that he didn’t deserve her goodwill any longer and now she’d found a replacement. He hoped, genuinely he thought, that she’d be happy without him.
Acknowledgements
There are many people to thank for their help. First up, like so many authors I’ve benefited hugely from the support of the online community in terms of advice, answers to research questions and general moral support. Perhaps bizarrely, I have to thank the Romantic Novelists’ Association, from whose members I learned a lot about writing in general, and about persistence in particular. Thanks also to the CWA and other Facebook groups for sage advice.
If I listed everyone who’s helped me I’d have an acknowledgements section as long as the book itself, but as usual special thanks go to my online friends the Beta Buddies. Without their constant encouragement, virtual hugs and constructive criticism I would have given up long ago.
I must give a special shout out to Liz Taylorson, who advised me on all things Wordsworth, wrote Cody’s academic biography for me and came up with the title of her book.
And, of course, I must apologise to anyone who may have stumbled over my browsing history…
Once my book had reached the “completed” stage I couldn’t have progressed without the help I got from my agent, Anne Williams, and from the team at Aria Fiction. (Shoutout to Hannah Smith and her colleagues!)
Lastly, of course, I have to thank my family… who put up with a lot.
About the Author
JO ALLEN was born in Wolverhampton and is a graduate of Edinburgh, Strathclyde and the Open University. After a career in economic consultancy she took up writing and was first published under the name Jennifer Young in genres of short stories, romance and romantic suspense. In 2017 she took the plunge and began writing the genre she most likes to read – crime. Now living in Edinburgh, she spends as much time as possible in the English Lakes. In common with all her favourite characters, she loves football (she’s a season ticket holder with her beloved Wolverhampton Wanderers) and cats.
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