by Lynda Stacey
‘Hey, what’s wrong?’ His hands were at each side of her face. His eyes searching hers. ‘You okay?’ He’d stopped dancing and Molly gave herself a mental shake, smiled, began searching the crowd.
‘Sorry, yes. Yes. I’m fine. I was just…’ She froze, didn’t know how to answer, began paying attention to the stage. Saw the woman, the long blonde hair, the slender figure, the dazzling smile.
‘Oh my God. That… that’s Tasha.’ Her hand shot out, pointed. ‘She works for me – she’s – my assistant,’ she finally managed to say. Catching her eye, she smiled, waved. Mouthed the words to the song. ‘Hey, I’m gonna dance with Tasha.’
‘Oh no you’re not.’ Kissing her protectively on the forehead, Dan steered her towards the bar. ‘If we don’t sober you up soon, you’re gonna have one hell of a hangover in the morning.’ He pushed his tongue firmly into his cheek. ‘I love seeing you drunk. But if you do fall on your arse in here, you’re not blaming me.’
Molly heard her words slur. ‘Dan. You’ve been the best friend, ever. Do you know that?’ She looked everywhere in the bar but at him. ‘But… I can’t… I…’ She struggled with the words. Felt herself being manoeuvred across the room. ‘Dan… you have to listen to me.’ Rolling her eyes to the ceiling, she was momentarily blinded by the lights. Blinked repeatedly.
‘What…?’
‘What do you want, Dan?’
Dan stared deep into her eyes. ‘What I want is to find you a chair before you really do fall over.’ Pulling out a stool and with a hand on the top of each arm, he forcibly sat her down. ‘Now, don’t move while I get you some water.’ Stepping in front of her, he lifted a hand, caught the eye of one of the more voluptuous, younger barmaids, who in a pair of bright red stilettos and low-cut top happily trotted towards him. With her eyes never leaving Dan’s, she leaned forward to place her cleavage firmly in his eyeline, tipped her head to one side and pouted. ‘What will it be?’ she said, raising both eyebrows at once. ‘Anything you want.’
Molly placed a hand on Dan’s shoulder and so as to be heard over the music, she leaned in as close as she could. ‘I’m gonna leave you and the barmaid to… you know.’ She gave him what she considered to be a sarcastic smile, pointed to a table and slowly slid from the stool.
‘Moll, seriously, you know she’s not my type,’ he whispered as he looked around. ‘That’s a pint of Stella, and—’
‘Just water.’ Knowing she needed to sober up, she walked closer to the door, took in a deep breath, thought of her car, where she’d parked outside the surgery. Felt the need to go home and wished she’d thought to stay sober.
‘Molly… come dance with me.’ From nowhere, Tasha appeared, grabbed at her hand. ‘They’re playing Grease, you can’t beat a bit of Grease, can you?’ With her arm around Tasha, she pulled off her jacket, threw it over her shoulder, walked across the dance floor, in true Sandy style and found herself giggling as Tasha did the same, kept up the play acting. Held out her hand, pretending it was a microphone. ‘The one I need, oh yes indeed…’
Molly laughed. Tasha was fun, her innocent attitude to life was contagious. She constantly smiled, and now the continual barrage of questions had stopped, the day passed quickly. Yet above all else, she was professional, good at her job, didn’t make mistakes.
Spinning around, Molly gasped as Dan suddenly jumped on the stage. He took hold of the microphone, sang along to the song with ease. He held her gaze, smiled, pointed and with hip swaying movements, he sang in a way that made her feel as though he were directing every word at her. Beleaguered, she moved to one side, realised the barmaid was standing directly behind her, leaning on the bar, her voluptuous breasts almost hanging out of her T-shirt. Her tongue seductively running across her teeth, seducing Dan from a distance.
With relief, Molly moved out of the way. Picked up the water he’d left on the bar, drank half, took a breath and gave him an approving smile. But then the smile quickly disappeared from her face as she spotted Charlie. He was standing by the bar, a pint held up, the words ‘cheers’ forming on his lips. Knowing he’d recognised her, she saw him sneer, before taking a long, meaningful slurp of the beer.
Hurriedly, she gave Tasha a wave, stepped away. ‘Monday, I’ll see you – Monday,’ she mouthed. Smiled awkwardly. Placed a hand on Dan’s shoulder. ‘Dan, I’m gonna leave you to it.’ She pointed to the bar, the waitress. ‘Have some fun.’ She swallowed hard, kept her eyes fixed on Charlie. Felt the room close in around her. Breathing out, she shook her head.
‘Are you okay?’ Dan was suddenly by her side, his eyes full of worry.
‘I’m fine, just a bit drunk. That’s all. It’s not a good look,’ she whispered, made for the door. Felt annoyed with herself for not having the nerve to tell him what she had on her mind, smiled, hoped wholeheartedly that the barmaid would take him in hand and make the conversation completely unnecessary.
36
Feeling the cold, dark night air before she stepped into it, Molly gave an involuntary shudder. Pulled her coat tightly around her and with one hand on the wall to steady herself, she began to slowly but purposely make her way through town and towards the taxi rank in an attempt to get home.
Sighing, she heard the sound of a train leaving the station, headed towards it, to where she’d been told the taxis stood. She saw the long queue of people. Most were singletons, who stood alone, and for one reason or another, were taking an early ride home.
Hoping the queue would miraculously diminish, she looked at her watch. Considered the wait. Tried to decide whether she should phone Beth. See if she fancied coming home, and whether she and Grandad might come into town, pick her up. Put her to bed.
Wearily, she propped her body against the wall in a half sitting, half lolling position. She felt distant, discombobulated, made an attempt to reorganise her thoughts. With one eye half closed, she pushed the breath out of her body, gingerly breathed back in. Immediately she gagged at the smell of the men’s toilets, the distinct odour of urine wafting past her.
Lifting her arm up in the air, she once again made an attempt to study her watch. Closed one eye, tried to focus. Couldn’t. Inching along the wall, she hoped the taxi would hurry, felt desperate to get home quickly, longed for a full night’s sleep and couldn’t remember a single night since her mum had died that she hadn’t woken up multiple times, with hot sweats and panic torturing her mind. She’d lost count of the times she’d sat up, gasping for breath, reaching for water, initially believing her nightmare had just been a dream. Then, just a few seconds later, the reality would hit her, and once again, she’d feel the gut-wrenching pain tear through her. Once awake, getting back to sleep was rare and almost impossible. Real, deep, undisturbed sleep had become a thing of the past. Which was ironic because right now she felt as though she could happily fall asleep – perched on a very cold, very uncomfortable wall.
Raising both eyebrows, she listened to the sound of the queue. To people chatting. To the sound of mobile phones buzzing, bleeping. To the sound of Dan’s voice as it cut through the darkness. ‘Moll… don’t… you can’t go.’
With a mixture of emotions, she turned away. Pretended not to hear. Felt his hand run gently down her arm where it stopped, turned her towards him and drew her in. ‘Where do you think you’re going?’ he questioned. Paused. Stepped back. Saw her wobble. Placing his arm protectively back around her, he tried to usher her away from the queue.
‘Dan. Please. Don’t. I’m going home,’ Molly managed to say. ‘Oh, wow. I’m so hot.’ She began pulling at her coat, tugging at the zip. Wiping a hand across her brow.
‘You really have had too much, haven’t you?’ He forced a laugh. ‘Come on, let me take you home. Put you to bed.’ He paused. ‘Stay with you.’
Grabbing at the wall, Molly felt the pavement move beneath her feet like a boat, bobbing around on the water. She couldn’t focus, nothing felt real.
‘Moll.’ His hands went to the top of her arms. His eyes frantically searche
d hers. Ran a hand indecisively across his face, through his hair. Looked around as though looking for help. ‘It’s okay, she’s fine, we’re together…’
The whole scene played out in slow motion. The noise of the queue seemed to drown out his words. There were voices of concern, mixed with giggles. Molly tried to concentrate on Dan’s lips. Watched them move. Only heard every other word. Felt the tears flood her eyes. ‘Dan, I… I think.’ Shaking her head, realisation hit her, she thought of the last drink she’d had, of the water. The way Charlie had stood there, smirking. Tried to remember how much of it she actually drank, the glass, the sips, the half she’d left on the bar. She didn’t want it to be true, couldn’t think of any other reason why she’d feel so spaced out, so inebriated. ‘I think… I feel – spaced – out.’
‘You’ll be fine. I’m taking you home, I’ll look after you.’ She saw him give her a half smile, a half look of concern, felt his hands press against each side of her face. Then, without warning, his lips began to move slowly, passionately over hers.
Protectively, her hands went upwards. Pushed out as hard as she could. ‘Dan… stop. This… no… no. We… we can’t.’ Closing her eyes, she felt Dan continue. His lips seared a path down her neck, his hands roamed across her body. She was aware of the people watching and wanted him to stop, wanted to take the kiss back, didn’t know how. Feeling overwhelmed, the thought of drugs crossed her mind and she felt anger bubble in her chest. ‘Was it you… did you – do this to me?’
His arms surrounded her. ‘Do what?’
‘Dr… drug me.’
‘Don’t be daft. Why would I do that? You’re the last person I’d ever want to hurt, Moll. You do know that. Right?’ His face swam in front of hers. ‘I love you. I’ve always loved you…’ He paused, looked away, closed his eyes, inched her away from the crowd. Then, in a final attempt, his mouth once again moved towards her. She could feel his breath on her face as he spoke. ‘And I’m so sorry things went wrong. I wish it hadn’t happened. If only we could turn back the time.’ He cupped her chin with his hand, lifted her face to his. ‘I’d do things so differently, Moll. I’d make different choices and – and I’d love you more.’ Moving her to one side, his hands went back to each side of her face, his mouth firmly on hers.
Unsure of what else she could do, she found an energy she didn’t know she possessed. Lunged her hands upwards, pushed him away. ‘Get off me…’ She thrust her elbows out and with her arms and fists flaying, she quickly forced her way to the front of the queue. Heard the shouts, curses and comments from behind. Didn’t stop until her hand landed on the taxi’s door. ‘Sorry. So sorry… taxi. It’s…’ She took a breath, felt her stomach churn repeatedly. ‘Medical emergency – someone – could die,’ she lied, prayed that after only being in town for a week, no one would recognise her as being the local dentist.
‘Molly. Don’t do this. You can’t go back there alone. It isn’t safe.’ He grabbed her hand, held it to his chest, stared into her eyes. ‘Please, don’t end up like the rest.’
‘What… do you mean, the rest – that it isn’t safe?’ Her whole life suddenly flashed through her mind. Her mother, Michael. The picture. The spade. The missing niece.
He almost crumbled before her. ‘Moll. Please…’
‘Please what?’ she asked. Tried to understand what he was saying. Tried to focus. ‘Because do you know what? I don’t want you to kiss me. I don’t want you to protect me. I don’t want – any of this.’ She bit down on her lip, tried to think, tried to make sense of what just happened. ‘Why – don’t you – leave me alone – go back in there.’ She made an attempt to point at the pub. Watched her hand sway in front of her eyes. ‘Go – sing – to the bloody barmaid – she’s more your type.’ The moment the words left her mouth, she regretted them. She saw the hurt in his eyes. Couldn’t stop the words haemorrhaging from her. ‘Now, for the last time – let go of me. I’m going – home. Without you.’
37
Leaning back with her eyes closed, Molly could still make out the yellow sodium streetlights that flashed intermittently through the taxi windows. Fast and rhythmic at first, but then slower and more hypnotic, as the vehicle headed south and made its way out of town.
After what seemed like an age, the lights stopped flashing. The vehicle took a sharp left and Molly squeezed her eyes more tightly together, took pleasure in the darkness until suddenly, acid burned her throat and anxiously she rummaged in her bag, pulled a plastic carrier from its depths and purposely took in deep, deliberate breaths, held the bag close to her chin.
Concentrating on the monotonous drone of the engine, she worked out that they’d already left the main road and were heading towards the coastline. It was a thought that made her relax, and she felt herself drift, her mind slipping in and out of a half-conscious state and then, without warning she felt herself sinking, being pushed deeper and deeper down a hole. The earth landing on top of her, burying her. Until all the daylight had disappeared. Yet instead of panic, she watched the darkness close in. Felt calm as her whole body surrendered to whatever fate was about to follow.
A sudden jolt, followed by the tightening of the vehicle’s brakes brought her back to the present. She grabbed hold of the seat, squinted through painful eyes. Slouched forward and peered out to recognise the turning circle, the place where the school bus normally pulled up. Realised that the taxi was about to turn into the lane.
‘Err, excuse me,’ she shouted a little too loudly. ‘Stop. Stop here. You might…’ She couldn’t manage the words, felt the exhaustion take over. Forced herself awake. ‘There are – a lot of potholes… If I didn’t live down there – I wouldn’t drive over them either – so if it’s all right by you… I’ll walk – from here.’ Her words were sporadic, spaced, her eyes difficult to open. Closing her eyes tightly, she puffed out her cheeks and blew out as the sour taste of bile continued to flush the back of her throat. ‘Oh, boy, I need to get out,’ she shouted, grabbed at the door handle and began to panic. ‘Please… oh my God, open the door. I’m trapped. I can’t open it. Please, you have to let me out. I… I need some air.’
‘Okay, okay, lady, calm down.’ The window dropped. ‘Don’t you dare throw up, not in my cab or you’ll be cleaning it.’
Cold night air flooded in and Molly leaned forward. Almost pushed her whole upper body out of the window. Sucked in the sea air, with long heavy gulps. Refused to open her eyes and she took immense pleasure in the wind hitting her sharply in the face until the nausea began to dissipate and eventually she slumped back into her seat to feel the cold leather against her skin, making her shiver.
With one hand reaching out. She continued to rattle the door. ‘It’s still locked,’ she sobbed. ‘Please. Please. I can’t open it.’ Her stomach tightened with fear and confusion. She couldn’t get out, didn’t understand why. Wished she hadn’t had the last drink, tried to remember exactly what she’d had, whether at any point she’d lost sight of her drink. Knew she must have.
‘You don’t get out. Not till you’ve paid.’ The taxi driver’s stern voice pierced through her thoughts, making her reach for her bag, for her purse. Staring at it, she willed it to open. For the driver to be paid. Her hands felt bigger than normal, like giant balloons. She couldn’t work the zip, the clasp, couldn’t feel the coins in her fingers. Watched as her small change dropped from her hand, it rolled across the floor, to rattle around by her feet.
Allowing herself to glance at the driver, she watched him tapping at the meter’s buttons, the bright orange glow blurring in front of her eyes, a look of concern crossing his face.
‘Look, lady. You really need to leave the damn door alone,’ he grunted. ‘And, if I’m honest, I can’t say I’m happy about dropping you here. We’re in the middle of nowhere. It’s not safe. And I’m not sure you’re capable of looking after yourself.’ He pursed his lips. Gave her a look that reminded her of her grandad, the many times he’d looked at her in an annoyed and disapproving way. ‘Do y
ou have a phone, is there someone you could call? Someone at home?’
Taking on the warning about the door, Molly let go. Sulking, she looked into the darkness. Could just about make out the lane. Thought about the potholes. The amount of jolting she’d have to go through if she stayed in the cab and of the nausea that would no doubt make a dramatic appearance by the time she reached the house. ‘It’s fine.’ She pointed. ‘My house – it’s just – just down there.’ She handed him a twenty-pound note through the Perspex screen, tried to smile, gave a dramatic wave. ‘Keep – the change.’
‘Thank you – but you know – you should call someone,’ he shouted as the door clicked open and she scrambled out of the taxi, her feet slipping on the step, fearful of the door locking again, of being trapped in the taxi forever.
As her feet hit the lane, cold, sludgy water seeped into her ridiculously high-heeled shoes, making her curse as she looked down and into the puddle. Not for the first time that night, she wished she’d worn a pair of trainers, something more sensible. She stared miserably at the lane ahead, felt her shoulders slump. It looked longer and darker than it ever had before. She knew she had no choice but to walk along it and for the first time since moving there, she realised why Beth had been so annoyed about having to do it on a daily basis.
Taking a deep breath, she tried to concentrate on just one of the two parallel tyre shaped paths. Pulling her phone from her jeans pocket, she eyed the screen with much deliberation. With one eye closed, she tried to focus with the other. Flicked and stabbed at the screen repeatedly with a long, pointed finger. Then finally, she smiled triumphantly as a narrow shaft of light appeared, lighting up the area before her. ‘That’s right – now we – now we have a torch.’