A Darker Kind of Love

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A Darker Kind of Love Page 22

by Angela Peach


  Things were pretty fucking perfect, and do you know what? We deserved it.

  Later that night, after Sophie had tried her very best to make me beg her to stop (and failing!) we lay tangled in the bedsheets, smiling stupidly.

  “I think it went well, don't you?”

  “What? I thought I was pretty fucking amazing just then!” I said, teasing her. She smiled and closed her eyes dreamily.

  “Yes, you were indeed fucking amazing...as ever. But you know I meant the dinner.”

  She pulled the covers up over us as the December chill brought goose-bumps to our cooling bodies. In the other room, my iPod was on random - we'd got distracted from starting a fire and just came straight to bed.

  “Yeah, I think it did. Although I think the discussion about which family gets to pay for the wedding was funny,” I muttered, a little distracted by the song that was now playing. It was a Parov Stelar one called 'Six Feet Underground' and Mel used to sing along to it, finding the lyrics amusing. It was such a haunting tune, and I tended to avoid listening to it these days because of the memories.

  'My heart is nowhere to be found, it's buried six feet underground.'

  “Oh I don't know. They came to a good compromise – one pays for the wedding, the other family pays for the honeymoon,” Sophie said, snuggling close.

  “Who says I have any intention of marrying you anyway? I'm an independent woman, I might enjoy...oh, okay, I'm enjoying that,” I muttered as she started kissing my neck. The song ended and I relaxed again, relieved it was over.

  Until I realised what was now playing. It was a Norah Jones song called ‘Miriam,’ and the lyrics about coming to kill the woman who'd been sleeping with her husband made me tense again. This was another one that reminded me of Mel. I shook my head and swallowed, hating that I was thinking of Mel when Sophie was kissing her way down my body. I tried to relax into her familiar warm touch, telling myself it was just a coincidence and making a mental note to remove songs like this from my iPod tomorrow.

  The next song made me physically sit up in bed, a horrible chill sweeping through me. Sophie looked at me in surprise.

  “What? Is everything okay?”

  “This song...it was played at Mel's funeral,” I whispered as Fun Lovin' Criminals 'There Was A Time' drifted through to us, seeming louder than it should. Sophie sat up, pulling the duvet around her as she looked around uneasily. I silently wished Danny was here now, to discern if I was experiencing paranoia or…or something else.

  “Is everything okay?” she repeated, looking tense and scared.

  “I...I don't know. Probably. Maybe. I just...I'm probably over-reacting, I mean these songs are just on random, right? But the last three songs...they're all songs I heavily associate with her.”

  “It's gotta be a coincidence, baby. Why would she be here? I thought you said she let you go?”

  “This is Mel, if she was bored she might have tracked me down just to mess with me or something.” I pushed my hands through my short dark hair, trying to get a sense of whether or not I could feel Mel's presence. I couldn't feel anything malevolent, but the temperature was low and things had gone missing lately. But I rationalised that it was December, and we didn't have a fire going, and that Sophie was kind of ditzy with her belongings sometimes. “Look, I'm sure it's fine. I didn't mean to panic you. Shit, I just...I'm sorry. Come on, lay back down with me .”

  I pulled her back down to the bed, but neither of us could relax properly.

  The next song started to play in the other room.

  “Well? Is it…one of her songs?” Sophie whispered.

  It was Corinne Bailey Rae, ‘Diving For Hearts,’ and one that had absolutely no association with Mel. I smiled in relief.

  “No sweetie, it’s not.”

  I cuddled into my girlfriend, feeling the anxiety slip away. But at the same time I couldn’t help but wonder if we would ever be able to relax fully. Was Mel really just going to leave us be? I suppose it was something only time would tell…

  This is the end of the book.

  Thanks for taking the time to read my book. I hope you’ll take a minute or two to leave a review? Go on, it will make all the hours of writing, typing and endless editing worth it to know your thoughts! And when you’re on Facebook next, please come visit and Like my Facebook page!

  I’ve popped a little teaser chapter of my next novel in for you…enjoy!

  The Rhythm In My Heart

  By Angela Peach

  CHAPTER 1

  Rachel

  I smiled dreamily around the room, absorbing the euphoria that was gently floating in the air like a mystic mist, permeating everyone's souls. This had been my second 5Rhythms dance class and I was totally hooked on it, loving the freedom I experienced from just letting go to the music for two hours. Felicity, the lady who led the class, caught my eye and nodded softly as if seeing my appreciation pleased her. Wiping a bead of sweat from my face I went to get changed, chatting with a few others on the way.

  As I was pulling on my jacket, I felt vibrating from the pocket and quickly fished out my mobile, smiling when I saw it was my best friend Abbie.

  “Hey hey girlfriend, so I've finally finished my essay and it's done, gone, finito,” she trilled happily. “Wait, hold on a sec, can you hear that?”

  I listened hard, pressing the phone against my ear and blocking my other one.

  “No, I can't hear anything.”

  “That noise...”

  I heard the sound of glass clinking against glass.

  “That, Rachel, is the sound of a bottle of fizz with your name written all over it. And mine, obviously.”

  “Aw honey, I can't tonight. I'm going out on a date, remember?”

  “What? Rubbish! Can't you come round after?”

  “Uh...I was kind of planning on getting lucky, so I don't want you to hang around waiting for me just in case.” I heard Abbie sigh loudly with disappointment. “Why don't you see if Pasha's free?”

  “Cos Pash isn't my best friend and her name isn't on this bottle,” she grumbled. “But I suppose if you're dumping me for some random bird I don't have much of a choice, do I?”

  “I'm really sorry mate but I like this girl a lot and I've got a really good feeling about tonight. I think she could be the end of my search.”

  “Yeah whatever. Call me tomorrow and let me know how it goes, but don't expect me to be saving any of this fizz for you cos it's got mine and Pasha's name on it now.”

  “Okay, have a nice night and congratulations on finishing your essay. Say hi to Pash for me.”

  “Sure. Love you bye.”

  “Love you bye.” I hung up, knowing she wasn't really as pissed at me as she was making out. Anyway, it was going to take a lot more than that to shake me from my good mood because I was buzzing with positivity today, about to embark on what I hoped was the first of many dates with the lovely Kim. As I picked up my bag to leave, my phone buzzed another couple of times, and when I opened it up again I laughed out loud. There were two pictures from Abbie – the first showed her smiling and holding up a bottle of fizz so I could see our names written on it in black marker pen. In the second, she was sticking her tongue out at me defiantly and she'd scrubbed out all of my names, replacing them with Pasha's.

  Still smiling, I put the phone back in my pocket and left the changing room, deciding to go and say thanks to Felicity before catching my tube home. I found her stood in the dance hall by the stereo, looking slightly anxious.

  “Um, hey, I just wanted to come and say how much I enjoyed today.”

  She spun round as if I'd startled her.

  “Oh, Rachel isn't it? Thank you, you certainly looked a lot more relaxed this week,” she said, tucking some of her blonde hair behind her ear.

  “I was. I mean, I think I'm totally buzzing anyway because I have a hot date tonight but I just love all the music you played in today's class. Would it be too much to ask for a list of all the tracks?” I knew I was babbling
and possibly over-sharing, but I couldn't help myself.

  “Sure, no problem, it would be a pleasure. What's your email?”

  I told her and she added it to the address book in her phone, promising to send it over the weekend. I thanked her again and started to walk away, turning back when she asked,

  “Do you know where the nearest tube station is? I mean, is it far to walk?”

  I scrunched up my nose as I thought about it, looking at all her equipment.

  “It's about a fifteen minute walk. Are you carrying all of that?”

  Her face fell as she chewed her lip thoughtfully.

  “My boyfriend was supposed to pick me up, but he's stuck in traffic and will be for a while. If it wasn't far I might have got a taxi, but I'd have to use one the other side to get home anyway, so it'll probably be better just to go all the way,” she said.

  “Where are you going to?”

  “Islington.”

  I whistled.

  “That'll set you back a few quid. If you want, I don't mind sharing with you? If we order one now, it should be here in about ten minutes.”

  “Seriously? I mean, that would be great but I wouldn't want you to go out of your way or anything.”

  “My place is kind of on the way, so it'd be fine.” Even though I’d planned on getting the tube, I was feeling generous and happy to share my good vibes. The relief on Felicity’s face was evident and I was instantly glad I’d offered.

  “Thank you, you have no idea how grateful I am. Would you be able to help me carry my stuff out?”

  Between us we picked up her speakers and large bag containing the stereo she used for the class, taking them outside the entrance to wait. We chatted easily, and she told me that her boyfriend had been dropping off his daughter in East London, but he'd been caught up behind an accident or something. When the taxi arrived and we were settled in the back, I asked how long they'd been together.

  “Three years. He's been hinting lately about getting married soon, now that his divorce is nearly final,” she said, a huge smile lighting up her face. I felt her excitement and decided I wanted to be like her in three years, hopefully with Kim, and feeling all loved up and talking marriage and children and...(okay, I realised I might need to calm down a little – always a good idea to go on the date before planning a long and fruitful future, right?)

  “You'll have to let me know when he pops the big question, I'm a sucker for a soppy romance story. Oh, this is my stop.” I got my bag ready as the driver pulled up outside the large converted warehouse I lived in, along with about twenty others in converted apartments over three floors.

  “Good luck with your date tonight, I hope it goes well,” Felicity called out.

  “Thanks! I'm pretty sure it will.”

  As I watched the taxi drive off, I had the feeling we were going to be really good friends.

  I'd met Kim a week ago in a Costa Coffee shop. Not the most romantic of settings, but after taking my order she'd asked for my name and number. When I said I didn't want to sign up for any special offers, she'd laughed and told me she wanted it to ask me out for a drink. This had never happened to me before in all my thirty seven years, so I'd happily written down my details for her and then stalked my phone waiting for her to call. Luckily I'd only had to wait two hours – she called me on her next break.

  And from the texts we'd been exchanging all week, this date was squaring up to be an extremely promising one!

  I got to the Mexican restaurant five minutes early and saw her already sitting at a table, looking cool and delicious. My breath caught in my throat a little as I was reminded of just how hot she was. Her dark bob with extra high blunt fringe was a perfect way to highlight her exotically purple eyes, and the cool white shirt she had chosen to wear was so bohemian chic, I wondered if I should have made more effort. Still, too late now as she was looking directly at me, and smiling! That was good – it meant she wasn't suddenly regretting asking me out now she'd seen me a second time.

  “I got here a bit early,” she said, almost apologetically as she stood to greet me. We did that strange shuffle where one went for a cheek kiss and the other was going for a hug, but recovered smoothly. She smelled pleasingly fresh, like citrus.

  “No worries. You look amazing.”

  “So do you,” she murmured appreciatively, causing all the hairs on my arms to stand up. I sat down and took a deep breath to try and steady my nerves, going over my checklist of do's and don't's in my head:

  -Don't get too drunk.

  -Don't say/do anything embarrassing.

  -Don't tell her any terrible jokes.

  -Be polite and charming.

  -Be attentive to what she says.

  After looking through the menu we ordered a bottle of wine and our meals, then proceeded to the getting to know each other chat.

  “You said in your messages that you're a photographer. What sort of photography do you do?” she asked.

  “Accidental, mainly.” Kim looked confused so I clarified for her. “Basically I just kinda get lucky with shots. I usually have a camera on me at all times, y'know, just in case that perfect shot comes up, like a pony with a robin on his nose, or a sunset that looks like something out of Independence Day!”

  “Do you make any money from it or do you do it just for fun. If you don't mind me asking?”

  “Not at all. I’d love to do it just for fun, but I earn just enough to get by. I mainly do pet and portrait shoots for people, or photos for websites.”

  “What about weddings? Isn't that where the big money is?”

  “It is, but I'm too freaked out about ruining someone's big day by not getting the right shots, or accidentally formatting the memory card or something. You can't just retake them, you have one chance and that's it.” I was babbling, it was all me-me-me. Time to ask about her. “What about you? Do you like working in the coffee shop?” I cringed inwardly, hoping it hadn't sounded like I was criticising her job choice.

  “Yeah, I actually love it,” she replied, smiling easily. Phew! “Costa's always really busy which seems to make the time fly. Plus, with all the caffeine, it feels like a high octane job, and the people I work with are pretty awesome. Surprisingly chilled out, considering.”

  Once we'd got the initial nervous chatter out of the way, we both relaxed and found ourselves engaging in a wonderfully comfortable way with each other. The wine arrived and was a great choice, and when the waiter brought out our food, I wondered if she could be any more perfect when she said,

  “Oh wow, yours looks amazing. Should we just put everything in the middle and share it all?”

  She was a sharer! A sharer! This was such a rare thing these days.

  And the positives just kept rolling on in. We had similar tastes in movies, books and music and the more we talked, the more we felt like old friends. Ironically this made me more nervous because I didn't want to mess it up, so it was perhaps not so much of a surprise when disaster struck.

  While I was chewing on some quesadilla, Kim said something incredibly funny causing me to laugh out loud...and I coughed a piece of chicken out of my mouth into my lap. Horrified, I looked down at it, feeling my face burn with shame.

  It's okay, she may not have seen. Carry on as normal.

  I lifted my gaze back up to find Kim looking at me uncertainly. She raised an eyebrow, then continued with her story. So…we were both going to ignore it and pretend it hadn't happened – that was fine by me.

  Unfortunately, it was a lot harder to pretend I hadn't knocked over the glass of water with my over-zealous hand as I talked about the dance class, and I cursed as it dribbled over the table into her lap.

  “Shit! I am so sorry, let me get you some napkins,” I stood up too quickly and banged the table with my legs, making all the other glasses wobble precariously.

  “No, it's fine, I've got enough,” Kim said quickly, trying to smile reassuringly at me, but I could tell she was just on damage limitation control. I carefully s
at back down, wondering if it was possible to ruin my chances any further. (Of course, it was a rhetorical question, but I soon regretted even thinking it.)

  “I went scuba diving a few months ago in Spain and it was one of the most amazing experiences ever,” Kim said, her eyes sparkling with enthusiasm. “It's like another world in the ocean, just so peaceful and calm and beautiful.”

  “It's something I've always wanted to do, but just not here in this country. When I scuba dive I want to see exotic fish and plants in clear blue sea, not tampons and poo drifting past in mucky, cold water.”

  SHUT ME UP! We're eating!

  “I know what you mean. Much as I love it, I wouldn't dive here in the UK, it's just too...”

  I wasn't really a believer in things happening in threes, but as if by magic, here was the nail in my coffin.

  As I'd been chewing a nacho, I breathed in at the wrong moment and a few sharp crumbs flew down my windpipe. I started to choke, in quite a spectacular way. Every in breath caused me to cough uncontrollably, and I covered my mouth with a napkin as I desperately tried to recover. This was easier said than done and after a good couple of minutes of me violently hacking, I noticed Kim had come round the table and was crouched next to me.

  “Oh my god, are you alright? Excuse me, can we get some water here please?” she said, flagging down a passing waitress. I knew everyone was watching me now, which didn't help. It was a few, torturously long minutes before I managed to sip some water without the fear of splurting it out over the table (which realistically was the only thing I hadn't done by this point.) Eyes streaming, throat sore and my face a bizarre shade of purple, I wondered if we shouldn't just get the bill and forget tonight ever happened.

  “Sorry about that. I don't normally choke on my food,” I rasped, unable to look at Kim and focusing instead on the plate of dangerous, date-ruining nachos in front of me.

  “Wow, I thought I was gonna have to do that thing and shout 'Is there a Doctor in here?' Maybe you should just stick to ice cream for dessert?”

 

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