by Jade Winters
Morgan looked horrified. ‘I hope—’
‘I’m kidding,’ Skye said, laughing. She liked that the self-assured woman wasn’t invincible and could be rattled.
‘Oh!’ Morgan smiled. ‘Perfect. Do you want to drop by here tomorrow, around eight?’
Skye nodded.
‘Do you like French food?’
‘I … um … yes, I love it.’ Technically, Skye had never eaten French food before, but there was no way in hell she was adding to her gaucheness by revealing to Morgan how unworldly she was.
Skye glanced over Morgan’s shoulder at the empty microphone stand, and a rush of excitement once again overcame her. Only minutes before, she’d believed she would never sing on a stage, never have a crush and never have the opportunity to follow her dreams. Sitting there, she realised her true life was just beginning, that in the blink of an eye, her life had changed.
‘Okay, well I’d better see what Chanel wants before she sends a search party out for me. It was nice meeting you, Skye, and I look forward to seeing you tomorrow.’ She shook Skye’s hand again.
Skye watched with disappointment as Morgan walked away, but her heart melted when she glanced back to give her a smile before disappearing into the crowd.
‘What was that all about, then?’ Izzy asked.
After Skye told her, Izzy shrieked and jumped up and down in her seat.
‘Drink up, drink up,’ Izzy encouraged as she handed Skye her drink. ‘We’ve got everything to celebrate tonight. It’s onwards and upwards for you, you mark my words.’
‘I hope so.’
Izzy took a long sip of her drink and clinked glasses with Skye. ‘Who would have thought it? My very best friend a singer?’
Skye’s mood soured as her thoughts turned to her dad. She wished he had been there to share the moment with her. What would he have said about the job offer? Would he have encouraged her to take it?
Not bloody likely! He’d only worry about how it would affect his life.
She sighed. Was there even a point in meeting Morgan tomorrow? She almost sought her out to call off the meeting, but the thought of not seeing her again was worse than upsetting her dad. Besides, she didn’t have to accept the job.
The decision was made: she would go ahead as planned and meet with Morgan, knowing in her heart she would turn down her offer. Skye watched her dream dissipate like mist under a hot sun.
Chapter Ten
Well, I’ll be damned. Who would have thought it? Miss Sweetness and Light has a voice like a diva. Morgan smiled to herself. She could barely believe what she had witnessed. Skye had raw talent that had, literally, brought her to her feet, and the crowd had gone ballistic. Morgan made a mental note to cancel the auditions she had arranged for the following week. She prided herself on her observational powers and had known the minute Skye began to sing that she was the one to put her club on the map. It didn’t hurt that she was insanely attractive either. As she walked, Morgan remembered the warmth of those pale green eyes staring so innocently at her. Mmm, very refreshing, and very lovely.
Reaching the bar through the crowd of people, Morgan saw Chanel preening herself in the mirror behind the bar. It never failed to amaze her how completely polished and groomed Chanel looked regardless of the time of day. Morgan quickly made her way behind the bar, shuffling past the other bartenders as they worked until she reached Chanel.
‘What’s so important that it couldn’t wait?’ Morgan shouted. She retrieved a bag of peanuts from the shelf, ripped it open and popped a peanut into her mouth.
‘You’ve got a visitor.’
‘Who is it?’
‘Daniel Smith.’
Morgan’s jaw stopped mid-chew, and her eyes widened. She didn’t know why she was surprised. It wasn’t as if the visit was totally unexpected. She hadn’t known the exact date, but she’d had an inkling it would be sometime this week. When they had last seen each other four years ago, Daniel had promised her that when the time came, he’d be the one to deliver the news—news she never wanted to hear. He had only thought it fair it should come from him, seeing as he was the one who had dealt with her unrelenting enquiries.
‘What?’ Chanel’s intonation rose at the end, forming a question mark.
Morgan stared at Chanel’s pink coloured lips and shook her head, her mind already racing ahead. She put the peanut bag on the counter and wiped the residue off her fingers with a napkin. ‘Nothing. Where is he?’
‘I left him in your office. I didn’t think it would be good for business having a copper hanging around.’
‘He’s a plain-clothes detective, Chanel. How can anybody tell?’
Chanel pushed back a strand of hair. ‘The shoes say it all. Too buffed and polished to be a regular punter.’
Chanel could often tell Morgan what someone did for a living by their attire, even if they were trying to hide it. It had become a silly game they played on slow nights.
‘I’ll let him know.’
‘Hey, before you run off, what’s with that girl and the free drinks?’ Chanel called out.
‘I’ll tell you about it later.’
Morgan made her way to her office and pushed the door open into her sanctum sanctorum—her place of refuge. The office was decorated in muted smoky tones, the only colours being the bright Indian sofa cushions with intricately detailed elephants in their decorative garb stitched into the silk. The sandy-haired man was looking at one admiringly as she entered the room.
Putting the cushion back on the sofa, Daniel sat in the seat opposite her desk and said, ‘He’s out.’
‘I guessed as much.’ Morgan’s lips pressed into a thin line and her face hardened.
‘I didn’t want you to find out by bumping into him on the street.’
Morgan walked around her desk and sunk onto her leather seat. She didn’t want Daniel to notice that her legs were unsteady. ‘So he’s still in the area?’
‘As far as I know.’ Daniel pulled out an e-cigarette from his side pocket and gave her a questioning look.
She nodded her consent. Truth be told, what she needed right now was an actual cigarette—some kind of distraction. She pushed her trembling hands flat onto the cool wooden surface.
No, she told herself honestly. Nothing can take my mind away from that man.
He was like a poison in her veins that had no cure.
‘If he had a conscience, he’d have gone as far away from here as possible,’ she said.
Daniel rubbed his weary eyes. ‘He’s a free man. Free to go where he likes, and we can’t touch him.’
‘Sounds about right. His sentence proves there’s no justice in this country.’
He leant forward. ‘Look, I can’t even begin to imagine what this is doing to you, Morgan. But I can tell you one thing: you’ve got to put this behind you. I’ve seen people lose everything because they can’t let go. I’d hate to see that happen to you.’
Morgan appreciated his honesty and gave him a tight-lipped smile. ‘Don’t worry about me, Dan. I’ll be fine.’
He changed the subject. ‘And how’s that brother of yours?’
She shrugged. ‘Adrian’s getting by. Not great, but he’s okay.’
‘Yeah, I know how it is. He’s a sensitive boy.’ He stood and walked towards the door. ‘I won’t keep you. Things look pretty busy.’
‘They are, thankfully.’
‘Good, good.’ He opened the door and stood in the doorway as if he had something else he wanted to say. The beat from an eighties rock song vibrated in the air. ‘Morgan, if you need to talk …’
Morgan smiled. ‘I know where to find you. If I need to, I will Dan. I promise.’
As he closed the door, the image of the envelope hidden in the back of the kitchen drawer popped into her mind. The time for talking was well and truly over. It was time for action.
Reality slammed into her full force. Could she actually do it? Go through with the plan she’d been concocting for the past few years? If
she wanted to find justice for her family, she had to. She couldn’t let him hurt another woman or child. To reinforce the fact she was doing the right thing, Morgan turned on her computer and typed ‘Thomas Kidding’ into Google. His name came up as the first result.
‘Man arrested after methadone kills child.’ A lump caught in her throat when she looked at the picture of her four-year-old niece.
Large innocent blue eyes stared back at her, the very same eyes that used to sparkle with laughter as Morgan blew raspberry kisses on her little round tummy. How was it possible that one man could touch and destroy so many lives? Morgan still couldn’t get her head around what had happened. How her mother went from a normal, loving, caring woman to a heroin addict. No, that was wrong. She knew how. The real question was why? Why had she become involved with Thomas in the first place? Because he fooled us all with his impeccably good manners and charm, that’s how. He was the perfect gentleman. So believable.
To look at him, you never would have expected him to turn into a drug addict. It was only after a few months, when Morgan met her mum and Thomas for dinner, that she noticed something was amiss. His once groomed appearance had transformed into a slapped-together mess. Stained jeans and ragged T-shirts replaced tailored suits. His olive skin had faded to a horrible pasty white with a constant glossy sheen to it. He was no longer the life and soul of the party. Instead, he was agitated and moody. He couldn’t maintain eye contact and could barely stay in the company of anyone, bar her mum.
Her mother’s descent into a drug-infested hell had happened so fast that neither Morgan nor her siblings had seen it coming until it was too late. To this day, Morgan still couldn’t understand why her sister had let Thomas and her mum babysit Chloe, besides her having desperately needed a babysitter. Common sense alone should have told her sister to cancel her job interview and reschedule it for a day when Morgan was free.
And now he’s out and getting on with his life. Morgan clenched her jaw at the injustice. She was more than certain her decision was the right one. The world needed to be rid of people like Thomas Kidding, and if the law wouldn’t see to it, Morgan would make sure justice was served.
Chapter Eleven
Skye woke with a start, confused by her surroundings. She jerked upright in bed, only for the unfathomably painful pounding in her skull to force her to collapse back onto her pillow.
‘Oh God,’ she moaned. The previous night returned to her, but she couldn’t quite focus on piecing together the details due to the incessant thumping in her head.
A hair dryer kicked on from inside the bathroom, and the loud, gusty noise was enough to blow away the remnants of her sanity.
‘Turn that off,’ she called as loudly as she could. Even the sound of her voice was excruciatingly painful. Her head felt as if it might split in half at any second.
Izzy waltzed out of the bathroom, looking as fresh-faced as ever.
‘What? Not feeling too well?’ she said at a purposefully amplified volume.
‘What do you think?’ Skye whined.
Suddenly, Skye leapt out of bed and pushed past Izzy to get to the bathroom. Slamming the door shut, she dropped in front of the toilet and emptied the contents of her stomach. Oh God, I’m gonna die.
‘Once it’s all out, brush your teeth and tongue, and then drink some water. You’ll be as right as rain,’ Izzy called through the door.
Skye climbed to her feet and stumbled to the sink, where she followed Izzy’s advice. Stepping out of the bathroom five minutes later, she wasn’t feeling any better.
‘You see, your body builds up a tolerance, and while yours is near enough non-existent, mine’s been building up for years,’ Izzy explained with the posture of a polite, well-to-do schoolteacher.
Skye shot her a disdainful look, and Izzy stifled a laugh.
‘Do you remember what happened last night?’ Izzy asked.
‘Barely,’ Skye said. ‘I remember the first bar we went to and a few of the ones in the middle.’ She racked her brain for the missing pieces of the puzzle. ‘I remember you stalking some guy with huge thighs, and …’
Izzy grinned. ‘And ...’
Skye covered her mouth with her hand. ‘Oh, my God.’ She stopped mid-sentence, the memory hitting her harder than the awful hangover. ‘We went to that club … and I sang!’ She looked at Izzy in terror.
Izzy gave a short scoffing laugh and wiped an actual tear from her eye. ‘Skye, calm down.’
‘Why did you let me do that?’ she cried out, covering her face with her hands in sheer embarrassment.
‘You were absolutely amazing. Everyone thought so.’
‘Probably because they were as drunk as I was.’
‘I don’t think Morgan was drunk. That woman had the serious hots for you.’ Izzy clapped her hands excitedly as she finished.
Skye eased onto her bed. ‘Don’t be silly. What would she see in someone like me?’
‘What the hell does that mean, someone like you? Anyone lucky enough to date you should be grateful.’
‘I’m pretty sure that’s not what you said yesterday. Something about punching above my weight?’
‘You know I was only joking, and anyway, that was before I knew you could sing like that.’
Skye opened her mouth to interrupt, but Izzy quickly cut her off. ‘Be honest. Your dad’s done a right job on you, hasn’t he? He’s eroded any self-esteem you have because of his selfish need to put himself first.’
‘He can’t help it, Izzy.’ Skye pulled her bag off the floor and rummaged around for an aspirin as Izzy went on.
‘Bullshit. He’s—’
‘Please, Izzy. Not today of all days. I feel bad enough as it is without you having a go at me.’
‘Sweetheart, I’m not having a go at you. I just wish you’d let him be responsible for himself. You’ve got a great opportunity ahead of you. Who knows where things will lead,’ she said, wiggling her eyebrows.
‘It won’t lead anywhere.’
‘What the hell does that mean?’
‘It means I’m not going out with Morgan and I’m turning down the job offer.’
‘Like hell you are.’ Izzy squared her shoulders. ‘I won’t let you, you hear me? You’re gonna take this opportunity by the balls and pump it until it’s dry.’
Skye grimaced. ‘Oh God, do I really need that image in my head?’
‘Is it any worse than wasting your talent while you wait on people?’
‘And what do you think will happen here? That singing in a nightclub will turn me into a star overnight? Give me a break. I know I’m naive when it comes to most things, but even I know a pie in the sky dream when I see one.’
‘How do you know unless you give it a try?’
‘Because that sort of thing only happens to other people, remember?’ Skye tugged at the roots of her hair and squeezed her eyes shut. ‘I can’t believe you let me agree to go out with Morgan tonight. I thought you had my back.’
‘I do, and that’s why I didn’t step in. Morgan’s hot and very generous. I might ask if she’s got a job for me.’
Skye’s mouth dropped open. ‘You wouldn’t move to London, would you?’
‘Are you crazy? Of course I would. If she says yes, the only thing I’ll be going home for is my stuff.’
‘But what about your mum and nan?’
‘What about them?’
‘Won’t you miss them?’
‘Of course I will. But I won’t put my life on hold for them. Not me. They’ve lived their lives, and I’ll live mine, guilt-free, thank you very much.’
‘You’re a lot braver than I am.’
‘It’s not about being brave. I’m just a logical person. My head rules my life, not my heart.’
A clear image of Morgan came to the forefront of Skye’s memory. A warm fuzzy feeling washed over her as she remembered the way her dark hair had framed her face, the intensity of her eyes, her silken voice, everything about her. She cursed alcohol for erasing ho
w Morgan had looked at her, while simultaneously thanking it for giving her the courage to get her attention. She remembered agreeing to meet her, but now that she was sober, reality was setting in.
‘It wouldn’t be fair to my dad for me to just up and leave like that.’
‘Oh, give me a fucking break. This ain’t about your dad. It’s about you being scared. You’re afraid of being happy. You’re terrified of change. You’re so comfortable complaining about the life you’ve got that you sabotage every chance you have to get what you want.’
‘I don’t care what you say, I’m still not going,’ she stated, watching Izzy’s features darken.
‘Yes, you are. You have to go!’ Izzy cried.
‘No, I don’t. I have her business card. I’ll just text her and say I had to return home for an emergency,’ Skye said.
‘And what about me?’
Skye frowned. ‘What about you?’
‘Have you forgotten I’ve arranged to see Mr Thighs?’ Izzy said with real frustration in her voice. ‘Tonight’s not just about you.’
‘It never is,’ Skye said glumly. ‘All that talk about going for it is just so you can get a foot in the door with Morgan and Mr Thighs, isn’t it?’
‘Come on, Skye. It isn’t like that.’
Izzy was too slow in hiding the guilt in her eyes. Skye had her number. She was just like her dad. Out for what they could get by using her as a stepping stone. ‘Isn’t it?’
‘I’m sorry,’ Izzy started, dropping her head against her hand.
‘No,’ Skye said, feeling selfish for raining on her friend’s parade.
Just because my life’s a nightmare, that doesn’t mean everyone around me has to suffer as well.
‘I should be the one apologising.’ Skye gave her a genuine smile when her friend lifted her head. ‘It’s good that you’re going after what you want, and I’ll be happy for you if everything works out. I won’t take the job, but I’ll meet Morgan tonight as arranged so you can catch up with Mr Thighs. Happy now?’
‘Oh, Skye!’ Izzy tackled her, forcing her into a comically unwarranted hug.