than life. She needed to say all of those things, and she could feel her heart hammering as she pushed open the kitchen door and prayed he’d be in there alone.
Billy sat in the kitchen, no Hal or Skinny Steve, a bottle of whisky and two empty glasses on the counter in front of him. Honey didn’t stop to wonder why Billy was in the kitchen at all. The only thing that mattered was that Hal wasn’t there.
‘Where is he, Billy?’ she whispered.
‘Come and sit down, Honey,’ Billy said kindly, patting the stool next to his. She stood rooted to the spot, her hand over her heart.
‘Where is he?’
Billy sighed, his eyes troubled and his trademark sparkle nowhere to be seen.
‘He’s gone, sweetheart.’
‘Gone? How can he be gone?’ Honey said. ‘He goes home with me. We go home together.’
‘Not this time,’ Billy said, as tactfully as he could. ‘He asked me to call him a cab about an hour ago.’
‘A cab? You called him a cab?’ Panic sent her voice shrill. ‘For God’s sake, Billy, he doesn’t do this! He can’t … he hasn’t …’ She stopped, because she was gasping, struggling to get her breath.
‘Yes he can,’ Billy said quietly. ‘He’s not a child, Honey. He’s a man. Let him be one.’
She sagged against the doorframe. ‘Did he say where he was going?’
Billy looked down and shook his head sadly.
‘He had a lot on his mind,’ he offered.
Honey dashed the back of her hand over her cheeks.
‘I know that,’ she said. ‘How did he seem to you?’
Billy paused. ‘Like he needed space?’
‘From what?’ Honey said, stricken. ‘From me?’
In that moment she reminded Billy of an evacuated child, a lonely little girl suddenly bereft without the person she loved best. It fair broke his heart that her day should end like this.
It was well after midnight when the last of the protesters-turned-partygoers packed up and left, and Honey dropped down on the cool grass and wrapped her arms around her knees. People had been kind and taken all of their rubbish home with them, aside from a few lonely strands of tinsel glittering in the moonlight. Running her fingers over the grass, she found a discarded daisy chain, its flowers closed up and yellowing without the benefit of sunshine on its petals. Picking it up, she slipped it carefully in her pocket, and then accepted Tash’s outstretched hand to pull her up.
‘Dust yourself down, Supergirl,’ Tash said, leading her away from the home by the hand. ‘Come on. I’ll take you home.’
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
Someone was banging on her head. They had to be, because it was loud and it hurt. Honey roused from her bed on the sofa, still dressed in yesterday’s clothes and groggy with the need for more sleep. She’d slumped down as soon as she’d walked through the door last night, not even bothering to take off her shoes. The fact that she was now barefoot and had a pillow and a blanket told her that Tash had stuck around long enough to see her off to sleep. The world needed more Tashes, unless of course she was the person banging on the front door, because whoever that was clearly had no respect.
‘Stop banging, I’m coming,’ she yelled, standing up and rubbing her hands through her hair in a vague attempt to straighten herself up. Not that it mattered, because she had no intention of going anywhere today, not unless she ran out of wine or the house burned down. Maybe not tomorrow either, or even the next day. Honey had officially shut up shop, pulled the shutters down on life and declared herself gone fishing. She was exhausted, and she couldn’t rely on her legs to hold her up or her brain to string a sentence together that didn’t include the word Hal.
‘Hal!’
Honey frowned. The hammering hadn’t stopped, but now she was finally awake she realised that it wasn’t her own door being assaulted, it was Hal’s, and from the sound of it the assailant was female.
‘I know you’re in there, Hal. Damien gave me your address.’
Honey inched along the hallway, drawn like a cobra from its wicker basket by a snake charmer.
‘Please, Hal. Open the door.’
Whoever was out there didn’t sound as if they were going to take no for an answer. They obviously hadn’t counted on Hal’s belligerent, stubborn-as-a-mule attitude. She cricked open her door, hoping to sneak a look at Hal’s visitor before they realised she was there.
Wow. They were good shoes. Honey started