by Daisy Burton
BAREFOOT
DAISY BURTON
Copyright © 2019 Daisy Burton
All rights reserved.
ISBN: 9781691851973
For my wonderful Bob,
I love you endlessly.
And for Toby,
I miss you every day.
DISCLAIMER
This book is a work of fiction. Any similarity to real people or events is co-incidental and unintended.
THANK-YOU
JD and DF, for your inspiration.
Helen, for being my first port of call for a reader’s perspective and your unending support.
Alex, Polly, Lynne, Kate and Sarah for being my beta readers.
Bob, for putting up with the hours of my tapping away
next to you.
All my friends for keeping me going.
I couldn’t have done it without you all.
1
“MARSHALL! Oh my god, no!” Sallie Ford screamed out loud, her hands flying to her face in a vain attempt to block out the scene that had met her eyes and ears. A cold shiver ran over her as she stood in the doorway, barely able to take in the scene before her.
She had walked into a strange room and was staring at the naked body of the man she loved. The body of the man to whom she had dedicated herself and loved for almost four years, had wrapped itself lovingly around another woman whose face she couldn’t see.
Sal had watched and listened in disbelief to the moans of appreciation and loving words that had escaped from their lips when they could bear to pull their mouths apart. It had played out painfully slowly in front of her, until the full horror had registered in her head. She had gasped loudly, and now, she couldn’t hold in the scream.
He leapt up towards her as soon as he heard her, frantically pulling the covers over himself.
“Oh shit, Sal. Wait…” he begged, grabbing desperately at her wrist.
That was enough to disturb her from her deep slumber.
*****
Sallie’s slim form meant that she usually felt the cold. This morning, though, she was boiling hot and sweating profusely. As she came to, heart racing, she took in her surroundings with a deep breath of relief.
She was in her bedroom at home. It had been a dream. Thank god.
Laying on her front, wrapped in a duvet against the cold late-October air, she closed her eyes with a sigh of relief. Next to her was Marshall, fast asleep and snoring gently.
The waves of fear and nausea that had engulfed her were now departing, and her tensed muscles were relaxing. She breathed in the subtle wafts of Marsh’s aftershave, mixed with the comforting smell of his warm skin. The bedroom had a somewhat stale sleep air, as their windows were closed. It was her favourite aroma, though, and it calmed her. She had to take some deep breaths and reassure herself that it hadn’t been real, and that she was here, at home, with her Marsh.
His snoring, and the ever-so-slight nose whistle on the out-breath made her smile. The relief was so intense, she almost giggled. Laying on her front with her legs splayed, she wanted to move onto her side, so she could cuddle up to his body for extra comfort and reassurance, but she couldn’t.
It didn’t take long for her to deduce that Lawrence, her large, stout, black and white (and very bloody warm) cat, was in his usual sleeping place. He was tightly curled up between her legs, pinning her to the bed quite effectively, and adding to her swelter.
He was a heavy feline and she was petite, so she struggled to release her leg. As she wriggled and bounced him about, he simply reached upwards with one front paw, splaying the claws out and stretching as he yawned. After a bit of jiggling, though, he got up and was in the process of arching his back to stretch further, so she seized her moment. Before he had circled and plonked down again in exactly the same spot, she had whipped her leg across to meet the other one, and Lawrence had stepped gracefully over it. Now she could turn on her side to face the back of her blissfully sleeping man. How he had slept through all the jiggling was beyond her, but then, he was notorious for being able to sleep through anything.
Congratulating herself, she moved over to Spooning Central as Lawrence settled down against her bum. Christ, it was like snuggling up in a furnace, but she needed this so much now, after that dream. Her thighs soon stuck uncomfortably together in the incredible heat with no cat to keep them apart, but that was okay with her. She rested her face against Marsh’s back, beside the tattoo of a skull on his shoulder blade, which was slightly obscured by his grey-streaked dark-blond hair. She pushed her face against his back and inhaled again. Relief continued to sweep over her because she knew deep down that he would never, ever do that to her. She counted herself very lucky to have a faithful man, especially considering the business he was in.
What have I done to deserve to be this happy?
Her life was exactly as she’d always wanted it to be. It took her a while to get there and it’d been a pretty rocky road, but she saw this as her reward for sticking at it. She had found Marsh, and they’d settled into their idyllic, but hectic life together with his two daughters and a cat. Dreams like that only served to hammer home how lucky she was.
She would’ve preferred to stay like that for the entire day, except that she knew they had to get up soon. Judging from the level of light creeping in between the drawn curtains, and considering they’d already put the clocks back, it probably wasn’t yet 7.30am. Still time.
As she snaked her arm slowly around his waist, so as not to disturb him, she drifted off and her mind wandered. Consciously moving her thoughts away from the dream, she wondered how her best mate, Jessica, was doing. Jess was nine weeks pregnant and Sal was so excited for her, but not in the least bit envious. Not in any parallel universe would Sal ever want kids. Two teenage stepdaughters were more than she’d ever bargained for, thanks very much. Her friends had always told her she’d feel differently when she got older, but even in her early 30s, Sal knew that it simply wasn’t in her to be a mum.
Jess was different, though. Sal knew Jess had always assumed that she and her husband, Adam, would have children eventually. That is, apart from a bit of a strange time four years ago, when they’d separated and Jess had gone spectacularly off the rails. Sal smiled as she lay there, thinking back to that time. She’d been through all kinds of adventures with Jess back then, and she was The Official Keeper of All Secret Things for Jess. Sal had proven over and over again that she could be trusted to keep her mouth shut about the all the things Jess had done. She knew that Jess was quite ashamed of her behaviour then, and that Sal was the only one who knew the entire, unabridged story.
Jess had thankfully changed a lot since that mad year from ’95 to ’96. Sal thought Jess would make a pretty good mum now that she and Adam were happily back together. She also knew that the one thing Jess wanted was to complete their family with a baby. Or two.
Jess hadn’t been able to hold the news in, and as soon as she had confirmed the pregnancy, she’d blurted it out to Sal. They were standing listening to a sound check about a month previously, and Jess was grinning from ear to ear.
“Oh JESS!” Sal shrieked, shocked that Jess was telling her so soon, but thrilled for her friend. “I’m so glad it’s finally happened. You’ve been trying long enough.”
Sal hugged her friend and they hopped around a bit.
“Well, yes, but trying was fantastic,” Jess grinned. “Things have got SO much better on that front since we got back together. Don’t tell anyone yet though, it’s so early. I shouldn’t have told you, really, but you know I can’t keep anything from you for long.”
Drifting off into her thoughts, Sal jumped awake, startled by the thought that she might have dropped off.
Oh crap, what time is it?
She stretched her nec
k up to see over Marsh to the alarm clock on the other side of the bed and she realised she’d been languishing too long. Lawrence leapt off the bed as she threw the covers off.
“Marsh! Wake up!” she screeched, shaking him vigorously.
“Unnnggg… what the fuck?” Marsh was never good at mornings, especially if he’d been playing the night before. Which he hadn’t. Sal knew that her chirpiness in the mornings had always both amazed and grated on him more than a little. She was usually nice about leaving him to sleep, but today she stood over him, hands on hips.
Bleary. He’s a bleary man. Sexy, but bleary. She thought it, but couldn’t say it out loud. That would simply put thoughts in his head, which would make them even later.
“We’re LATE, that’s what. We need to leave to get Mel in ten minutes. Come on, get yourself moving,” she grinned, slapping her hand on the mattress and making him groan.
She flew off to the bathroom to do her ablutions as rapidly as possible. She knew it took him ages to get going, maybe because he was so much older than her, but also because he hated mornings. That’s probably a big part of why he’d ended up being in a rock band – he got to sleep in ‘til lunchtime.
They’d packed the evening before, ready to leave for the Irish tour, and their suitcases were standing by the front door. First, though, they had to pick up Sal’s younger sister, Melody, to cat-and-house-sit in their absence.
“Look, you get ready,” she said, pulling on her clothes. “… I’ll go and fetch Mel. It’ll be quicker that way.”
He was languishing and groaning. Clearly, he had no intention of rousing himself.
“Slave driver…” His face made him look like a sullen teen, but he reached his arm up for a kiss goodbye anyway.
She wasn’t falling for that one, though. She knew that if she allowed herself one kiss, she wouldn’t want to drag herself away from him. Despite being in his 50s, his libido was higher than anyone she’d been with before, and they simply didn’t have time. Their lives had been a blur recently, and fitting that kind of thing in was tricky. Instead, she wiggled her bum at him, and he growled a phwoarrrr at her.
“Five minutes, babe, please, it’s been ages…” he pleaded, licking his teeth and grabbing for her thigh.
“Get UP! You know we can’t, Marshy. I need to go,” she smiled and blew him a kiss as she ran out of the bedroom. She knew it had been a long time since they’d been intimate, but she had no choice; they had to be on a plane in only a few hours.
Catching a glimpse of her bed-head as she passed the mirror, she was immediately grateful for making the decision to have her fair hair cut into a short bob and highlighted the previous week. It didn’t need much maintenance at all, and she briefly ran her fingers through it as she flew down the stairs. That would have to do for now. She hastily shoved her feet into her shoes, pulled on her coat, and grabbing the car keys she slammed the front door shut behind her.
Blimey! The frosty air clawed at her exposed neck, so she clutched her coat tight around her chest, and her white puffs of breath disappeared behind her as she hurried to her icy car.
She knew that Marsh struggled with her rather loud little sister first thing in the morning, so going to fetch her alone was a double whammy. It would be a great way for her to catch up with her sister before they left, and it would keep Mel away from Marsh. She could do without him being grumpy on the flight.
She turned up the radio as the windscreen defrosted because Keep on Movin’ was on. She listened to Radio One most mornings, but that was Marsh’s fault. Six years ago, she’d have been listening to Metallica on cassette and sneering at anyone who happened to know all the words to a number one single. Still, here she was, singing loudly and fairly tunelessly.
I know it’s not much, but it’s okay…
She set off as soon as she could see through the windscreen, and warbled as she drove. She thought back to Marsh – undoubtedly, he was still in bed. She had never noticed the age gap between them, although others had commented on the fact that she was 30 and he was 51.
Mel, on the other hand, was only 24, and that meant that there were 27 years separating Sal’s boyfriend and sister. Much to Sal’s dismay, that meant that a fractious father-daughter type relationship had inevitably emerged between the two most important people in her life. Sal despaired sometimes, as she watched her sister turn into a petulant teenager around him. Marsh would react, become judgmental, parental, and would regularly lose his temper.
It was frustrating because, as far as Sal was concerned, Mel had grown into a responsible, friendly, if a little too cautious young woman. There was no way that Sal would leave her sister in charge of Lawrence and their house while they were on tour, if she were irresponsible or unreliable.
It was obvious to Sal that, in reality, Marsh had also become fairly protective over Mel. He was anything but the grumpy old man that her sister seemed to sometimes have the power to transform him into. They clearly cared about each other and it would be great if they got on better because she hated being in the middle of their arguments. Still, it had been nearly four years and nothing had changed, so it would take something substantial to shift their dynamic.
Sal drew up outside Mel’s flat, walked up to the door and knocked loudly. The door was flung open before she’d finished rapping on it.
“Morning, you old tart,” Mel shrieked. “How’s it hangin’?”
Mel was never one for being sugary-sweet, but she if she’d had enough sleep and wasn’t hung-over, she was surprisingly perky and far too loud in the mornings.
“Get your bags, gorgeous, you’ve pulled.” Sal grinned. It wouldn’t be the same if they’d hugged and called each other ‘love’ or ‘sweet pea’. They’d never been like that.
Mel bundled her case and herself into her sister’s Fiesta. She immediately tuned the radio into Capital, thwarting Sal’s intention of catching up with her sister. Chris Tarrant was having a retro half-hour and was playing the full-length version of Blue Monday. It brought back happy memories of Sallie watching an 8-year-old Mel dance around the sitting room of their two-bedroom council house. Mel would play her older, angsty teenage sister’s brand new 12-inch vinyl records, and knew all the words even at that age.
And I thought I was mistaken… I thought I heard your words…
They competed with each other for volume and tunefulness. Mel won, as always. Their efforts would have been an absolute affront to the teenaged Sal, who had worshipped New Order and Ultravox at 14. 30-year-old Sallie, though, was practically bursting with happiness.
Tell me how does it feel, when your heart grows cold, grows collllddd…
The sisters sang at full lung capacity together and Sal felt energised and happy when they were together like this. But they weren’t far from home now, and they hadn’t caught up at all. Mel seemed happy enough with her lot, but Sal desperately wanted to see her sister properly settled with someone special, and she lived in hope. Mel deserved the sort of love Sal had found with Marsh.
Still, life was hectic in Sal’s household these days, and she felt a lot better about going out on the road with Marsh if Mel was looking after things back at home. In a selfish way, Mel being single was perfect for Sal. She figured that her sister would fill her in immediately if anything important had happened in her life, so she resigned herself to the fact that there was no movement on that front.
She’d given up asking when Mel was going to learn to drive because it was quite clear she never intended to do so. Her reluctance to learn was yet another thing that Sal had never understood, but it was simply how her sister was. It was handy, then, that Mel’s office was just down the road from Marsh’s beautiful home, so she could walk there whenever she was house-sitting.
“So, how’s my boy Lawrence doing then?” Mel’s voice broke into Sal’s thoughts. “Anything I need to know?”
Mel was as almost fond of the dozy furball as Sallie.
“Nope. Same old Laurie. He brought in most of a spa
rrow the other day and pranced around with his tail in the air for at least half an hour after he’d dropped the headless carcass at my feet. But other than that, he sleeps most of the day, as always.”
“And how’s the old man doing?” Mel sneered.
Sal didn’t rise to the mention of Marsh’s age; she knew better. It would only encourage her sister.
“He’s great,” she smiled. “Looking forward to the trip. He’s been to Dublin loads and you know how much he loves his Guinness.”
“Wicked.” That was Mel’s favourite word at the moment, so it seemed. “You looking forward to it, then? You’ve never been there before, have you? I lose track.”
Sal knew that Mel hated travelling and had no desire to fly off to all the corners of the earth, as Sal had in recent years. Sal didn’t understand that mindset at all, though. As someone who had spent her whole life dreaming of distant lands, other cultures, seeing amazing and beautiful scenery, Sal assumed that exploring the world was something that everyone must want to do. But Mel was never more contented than when she was in familiar surroundings, and preferably at home. In that sense, they were total opposites.
“No, never. I can’t wait,” Sal grinned. “It’s going to be brilliant and there’s no jet lag either. I win.”
“Yeah, well, be careful, it’s still a big city.”
Sal looked at her sister. Stubbornness and infinite loyalty were two sides of the same Mel coin. She was also an anxious person, whereas Sal was pretty fearless these days, mainly because she felt as if she had a secure foundation in her life. Sal was happy to be going somewhere different again. The world had opened up to her since she’d started working with the band and she loved every minute. She’d managed to see so much more than she ever would have otherwise. She loved it all, even the rather dodgy venues they’d played, in towns that were tucked away, miles from anywhere.
“I’ll be fine, I promise.”