Spare Room by Dreda Say Mitchell

Author:Dreda Say Mitchell [Mitchell, Dreda Say]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Bloodhound Books
Published: 2019-01-28T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter 21

The following evening, when I get in from work, the house is still. No sounds to indicate anyone else is here. None of that subtle energy people give off that tells you they’re around even when you can’t see them. Good. Martha and Jack are already out. I can’t hold back the satisfied half-smile.

I head to my room where I text Alex. Twenty minutes later his text pings:

At the front door.

I race down the stairs and pull him in. Worry lines crease his forehead and his eyes, and his hair has an edgy pattern that suggests fingers have been dragged through it. He’s not happy to be here. Guilt gnaws away at me. I ruthlessly cut it out. I need Alex to help me find the truth.

He’s decked out in a formal black suit and tie. He sees my appraisal. ‘I’m expected at a work party organised by a super-important client. I’ve said I’ll be late, but I can’t be too late. So I haven’t got much time.’

I can’t help suspecting he wants to get away from me as soon as, that he’s doing this out of misguided loyalty to his former girlfriend. You know, Sir Walter Raleigh laying his cloak down for Queen Bess. As we climb the stairs, I remember how things went from great to disastrous with us.

It was one of those Saturday nights when the tube was heaving and there were so many people spilling out onto the streets of London, I wondered how on earth there was enough space for us to all live in this awesome city. I was surprised at the numbers because it was so cold. The type of weather that chains and locks around your bones. Alex had managed to snag much sought-after tickets to the latest must-see, five-star musical in town. Despite the performance being spectacular, getting to my feet for the thunderous standing ovation wasn’t really my thing. I wanted to remain hidden in my seat. Alex was having none of it – he’d hauled me up, tugged his arm round my waist and pulled me into the heat of his side. His joy was so infectious I couldn’t help grinning like there was no tomorrow and clapping along. After that we’d hit a bar and knocked back too many margaritas. Unsteady on our feet, we’d weaved our way to his place. I couldn’t believe that this gorgeous guy who loved cracking jokes, who wasn’t interested in digging into my head, who adored living for the moment was mine. All for me.

As soon as we got into his flat we didn’t hang around; we hit the sack and had sex. The first time we made love, a couple of weeks back, I’d surprised myself by not being nervous and being upfront with him about the marks on my body. I hadn’t been upfront with him about anything else. Nor did I let on that it was my first time having sex. Does that matter in this day and

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