Escape by L.A. Davenport

Author:L.A. Davenport [Davenport, L.A.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781916937055
Publisher: MNDee Ltd

CHAPTER FIFTY-SIX

The shots, one after another, swirled around the evening. They folded us into our own private space. Shot after shot, drink after drink. We forgot about dinner, about the other people in the bar. The outside world was there simply to adorn our personal stage show. And we forgot any doubts we may have had about what we were doing.

And the demon? He was there, initially directing proceedings, fuelling my desire to go further and further. Then at some point, I was so drunk it was impossible to tell where I ended and he began.

Soon, the shots slowed our wits. We talked no more. The barman played a song over the PA. An apparent dance floor classic from way after my time had Jasna turning and spinning, swaying her hips. She sparkled in my eyes. I followed her into a cloud of music. We danced together, energetically, then slower and closer. I grabbed her hand, we pulled into each other while staring into each other’s eyes.

The music changed. A romantic ballad reached around us. I held Jasna close as we turned and tripped over the occasional bar stool.

She said something, lost in the music. I pulled her in closer to hear. Her face was next to mine. Her eyes were still. The loud, drunken bar was no more. In the silence, we kissed delicately, tentatively. The warmth of her mouth was strange after so many months without intimacy.

Then I remembered where I was and what I was doing. I pulled back. I stared at the floor. It spun under my eyes. I turned away to stop a rush of nausea. I grabbed my drink, but put it down again without taking a sip. I leaned on the bar, unsure whether it was the alcohol or the guilt that made me feel worse.

Once the nausea and dizziness had subsided, I turned on my elbow. Jasna held her coat, as if she was deciding whether to leave. She half-smiled.

— What are we doing, Jasna?

— I don’t know, John. What do you want to do?

I frowned and shook my head.

— No, I don’t mean now. I mean generally. We hardly know each other. I’m grieving for my wife. I’m in no fit state to make any judgement about my emotions. What are we doing, here, right now?

She shrugged. I swayed slightly, unable to stand up properly.

— I know all of this is ridiculous and stupid, and there are a thousand reasons why I am being a self-indulgent, blind male chauvinist pig. And there are a thousand reasons why you are either secretly laughing at me or quietly taking whatever it is you want from me before I go away again. But…

A look of fear flashed up on Jasna’s face.

— But I know, despite all that, I feel something for you. It might be the most stupid, ludicrous and inconvenient thing to say right now, but I think you are special, Jasna. I want you in my life.

She stared at me wide-eyed, her mouth half-open as if frozen mid-speech.

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