appreciate a trip to the countryside after she’s only just escaped it. ‘Soon, perhaps. Maybe I’ll bring her when I come home to clear the shop.’ Lord knows I could do with the help.
‘Darling, I’ve told you I can deal with that,’ Mum says, sounding less than enthusiastic. I know she’d rather poke nails in her eyes. I wouldn’t land that burden on her. She’s sounded good these past few months. I’m worried that sending her into Dad’s shop to clear it out would only put her back a few hundred paces. The reminders of him, the stock he loved, even the familiar smell of the old store that was always embedded into his clothes when he got home. Or would she be fine? Is she okay, and it’s simply my guilty conscience dictating my decisions? Because, after all, once that store is sold, everything Dad built up, albeit junk, will be gone. What would he think of that? I swallow and try to push back those thoughts before they take hold and have me nosediving into melancholy.
‘It’s fine, Mum. I have it in hand.’ This is my responsibility. I need to pull my finger out, book my train ticket home, and face what’s waiting for me there. Plus, Mum needs to be relieved of the financial strain that shop has on her while it’s sitting collecting dust. Literally. ‘I’ll call you next week.’
‘Okay, darling. Have fun tonight.’
‘I will.’ I hang up and head for the shower.
‘Oooh, you went for legs.’ Lucy struts over as I lock my front door. She’s in a pair of fitted black trousers and a seriously racy plunge-neck blouse, eyeing up my slinky black off-the-shoulder number. ‘Sexy.’ She halts in front of me, smiling as she reaches up to my hair. ‘I have serious hair envy.’
‘Don’t,’ I say as I pat my mane down.
‘Why?’ she asks. ‘Shiny, vibrant, thick, falls perfectly. I need to freeze mine into place once I’ve burnt it to death with heated rollers.’ We start to head down the stairs together.
‘Yes, but the colour seriously limits my wardrobe.’ My fire-red hair clashes with most pretty colours, leaving me with a wardrobe full of black, navy, and natural tones. On the odd occasion I can get away with pink and pastels, depending on the shade. ‘Well, I have arse envy,’ I tell her.
She peeks over her shoulder, looking down at her butt. ‘I don’t have an arse.’
‘No, because God gave your quota to me.’
She laughs. ‘You have an amazing arse. Curvy. Womanly. Mine looks like it’s been dragged down a cheese grater.’
I chuckle, opening the door and gesturing for Lucy to lead on, which she does after curtseying on a giggle. ‘Have you been drinking already?’ I ask, catching a whiff of wine.
‘Just a glass while I was getting ready.’
‘Hey, don’t peak too early.’ I’m looking forward to a night out to drown my sorrows. Or drain out my thoughts. Either will suffice. I’ve seen Lucy smashed. She’s a handful.
‘Oh, be quiet.’ She pulls me to a stop, her amusement falling away, and she holds me in place with serious eyes.
‘What?’ I ask, nervous.
‘Whatever happens tonight,’ she begins, and I frown, wondering what’s coming next. ‘Don’t let me go home with a man.’
‘Should that be a concern?’
She sniffs and reaches into her bag, taking out her blood-red lipstick and reapplying. ‘Well, you know. We’re both looking pretty hot tonight. And my willpower sucks when I’m pissed.’
I raise my eyebrows at her, waiting for her straight expression to crack. It takes roughly two-point-five seconds. We both crack up, giggling uncontrollably as I link my arm through hers as we start to sashay towards the main road. ‘Okay,’ I agree. ‘But the same goes for me, not that it’s likely to happen.’
‘Famous last words.’ Lucy chuckles.
We enter the club via an old factory-style lift, the original mechanism visible through the bars as it creeps up a couple of floors. A doorman on the other side pulls the sliding door open. ‘You’re good to go,’ he rumbles, swooping his arm out.
‘Wow.’ I gulp, my mouth gaping as the club floor comes into view. Everything is white, with pink lighting illuminating the stark space. An enormous circular bar holds court in the centre of the room, the dance floor surrounding it edged in tubular lighting that’s flashing from pink to white constantly.
‘Pretty cool, huh?’ Lucy directs us over to one of four bridges that crosses the dance floor to the bar.
‘Yeah,’ I agree, taking in the