“Okay, well good luck then, talk soon.”
“Okay, bye Vick.”
I hung up, stared at my phone, then set it back on the dash. Warm sunlight still streamed in through the windscreen, but my good mood had faded.
7
“Do you remember Jamie Higgins?”
“Aww fuck don’t mention him,” I said and went into a wrinkle.
“You broke his heart, sure,” said Amy with a great big snigger, while filling up both our glasses to the brim with Prosecco.
“Jesus,” I gasped, catching my breath, leaning back against the bottom of the sofa. We had both ended up sitting on the floor, a combination of wanting to sit near the wood burner and finding it easier skinning up on a magazine on the floor.
“Shall we have this now?” I asked, brandishing the joint in the air.
“It’d be rude not to,” Amy said with an affected pout, passing me over a glass ash tray.
It was after nine and we’d been drinking for an hour or two – it felt like our student days again. I didn’t even mind her putting on some Queens of the Stone Age. It’s not my usual thing. It took me back to those days – half gothing ourselves up and dancing about The Limelight nightclub together. Amy still looked great – she’s always been a right wee stunner. She’s a natural blonde, with a subtle bit of help from the bleach bottle. She’s taller than me and only slightly broader. Yeah, and she’s got better boobs.
“So tell me about this holiday,” she said, accepting the burning joint.
“Aww yeah Amy – I can’t fuckin’ wait. It’s going to be amazing.”
“I’m sure – you’re such a bitch – I’m jealous!”
“Aww sorry,” I said, making an overtly concerned face, before feigning confusion, “Here, you’re not that long back from your honeymoon in Thailand love!”
We both laughed.
“Ach, I suppose that’s true,” she said and handed me back the joint.
“I’m getting hungry – will we order some food in?”
“Munchies Vicky!” she said, pointing her finger in an accusatory good humour.
“You’re probably right – but anyway, I don’t care – I’m bloody starvin’!”
“Curry?”
“Sounds good.”
“I’ll grab a menu,” she said, and peeled herself up off the floor.
Just then my phone went again.
“Hello?”
“Vick, it’s me.”
It was Mike, and his voice was serious and out of breath. My chest tightened.
“Are you okay?” I asked urgently and stood up, instantly feeling sober.
“Fuck, well I am now I suppose.”
Amy bounded in with menus in one hand and drinks balanced in the other. Her face fell when she saw my own expression. I tried to send a reassuring smile back and raised a finger to say I’d just be a minute, stepping out to the hall.
“What’s going on?” I whispered, holding the phone to my lips.
I had never told a soul about my arrangement with Mike, not even Amy. I was pretty sure that Mike got up to a few other similar antics, but I was also reasonably sure that he didn’t tell anyone about our thing. I suppose I was ashamed of it and didn’t think that other people would understand me doing it. I didn’t understand myself.
“So,” he paused, “it didn’t go so well at the house.”
“What do you mean?” I hissed, feeling sick.
“There was someone home. A guy.”
My buzz was totally killed.
“Fuck!”
“Yeah.”
“Shit. What happened?”
“I was breaking in through the back door, nice and quietly – picking the lock, just like I planned. Then he walks past the window and is just, like, staring at me.”
“Shit! He looked at you, he saw you?”
“Yeah.”
“Fuck. What age?”
“Don’t know – maybe forties?”
“Probably his son – what did you do?”
“I fuckin’ ran for it!”
“What did he do?”
“I dunno – I just belted off and round to the car.”
“Fuck – but did he see the car, I mean – could he have read the number?”
“No, I don’t think so. I’d have seen him coming. I was a street away. I just sprinted, jumped into the car and sped off. I suppose he was probably shocked to see me too.
“Shit – but he saw your face?”
“Yeah, but I’m not going to be bumping into him any place.”
“Still though,” I let out a sigh, half relieved it wasn’t worse, “That was too close Mike.”
“You’re telling me!”
“I know, but I’m not sure I wanna keep doing this. We can’t get away with it forever.”
“Look, we’ll be more careful… I’ll be more careful.”
“I don’t know.”
“C’mon Vicky, we’re on to a good thing here.”
“Look, I’ll think about it. I’m down at Amy’s house – I’d better go. I’m glad you’re alright.”
“Okay, if I’m not speaking to you – have a good holiday.”
“I will.”
I hung up. Right then I decided that was me out.
For good.
Or, at least I’d only do maybe one more.
Two at most.
8
I couldn’t put off packing forever. I started the next afternoon – which was kind of needed as I was due to leave for the airport during the coming night. I was a bit groggy and hung over after my stay with Amy. The phone call had hit my good mood, but after a few more drinks, I got over it. Amy’s great and we had good craic. It was just a blip – Mike got away okay, I’d think about things properly after my holiday. We had fairly indulged and I was close to bringing some of that indulgence up from my stomach a few times, but I was alright and slept it all off. I hadn’t driven back until after lunch – albeit probably still over the limit. When I got home, I crawled straight into bed and had a power nap. After an hour’s kip, a little one skinner spliff and a cup of tea got me ready to get stuck into packing. So far, I had managed to get out my suitcase and pack some plastic bags. You always need plastic bags – stops makeup leaking, sun cream, somewhere to stick your dirty underwear etc. That’s my top tip folks.
Next, I packed a week’s worth of
