a quick wave, he was gone, presumably headed home to his bed. I heard footsteps coming down the stairs and turned to see my dad.
‘Everything OK, Tink?’ he said. It didn’t matter how many times I asked him to call me Lena, he always used my childhood nickname instead. I swear he only did it to wind me up. ‘You look a bit pale.’
Before I could reply, Mum’s singsong voice carried through the open doorway. ‘You’re back early, love, was that Jake dropping you off?’ she said as she bustled out of the living room to join me and Dad in the hallway. ‘Good grief, are you still in your pyjamas?’ Her gaze must have climbed all the way to my face then, though, because she didn’t give me a chance to answer, and her voice became deadly serious. ‘What’s happened?’
And that’s when I burst into tears again.
Chapter Seven
PROPOSITION
So much for the drip-feeding idea
.
One look at my parents and it all came flooding out in between mangled sobs before I could even struggle out of my coat. They ending up helping me out of it, their gasps audible, even over the racket I was making. Damn, I’d forgotten my coat was covered in blood. Mum threw her arms around me in a tight hug. Dad, too, his arms reaching around ‘his girls’, and the three of us stood there in the hallway for ages until my crying subsided.
Mum relaxed her grip first, then Dad, and we broke apart. They looked as grim as I felt, but then Mum snapped back into ‘Mum’ mode and ushered us to the kitchen. Dad and I sat around the breakfast table, watching as Mum fussed around making drinks before joining us. Yet more sweet tea was thrust at me—the huge pot for their benefit as much as mine, I suspected—and they asked me to repeat everything, having not been able to understand half of what I’d said.
Starting with the gig, I told them everything, even the whole coke thing. Once they’d got over the initial horror, they took it pretty well, considering, and when I’d finished talking they told me how proud they were of me. I’d underestimated them big time, and vowed never to tell them I hadn’t felt I could confide in them. It would only hurt them and I didn’t want that, especially when they thanked me—actually
thanked
me—for talking to them and telling them what had happened.
Instead of going into ‘lock Lena in her room forever’ mode, Mum shared a look with Dad and heaved a sigh, then told me that, although it was hard for them, they had to accept I was almost an adult. She patted my hand as Dad looked at me and nodded his agreement, and she told me they would always support me, no matter what, and how they would try to respect my decisions. I wasn’t their little girl any more.
Yikes, how grown up did that make me feel?
Unfortunately, this whole treating-me-like-an-adult thing also meant I had to call in sick myself. Naturally, I put it off as long as possible by having another cup of sickly sweet tea, then I went for a steaming hot bath to stop me from seizing up any more.
As I lay back in the soapy suds, my mind drifted to Jake. His actions had been over and above what I could have expected from my best friend’s brother. My heart raced at the thought of him, remembering how gentle his fingers had been, how caring and attentive he had been, how warm and comfortable he was to snuggle up with, how close I’d come to kissing him.
Argh!
I plunged beneath the water, not caring about the splashes over the sides, as I tried to wash away the memory of him. I eventually had to come up for air and directed my thoughts to work instead. My heart raced for an entirely different reason as I tried to psyche myself up to make the dreaded call.
It’s not as if I could have dragged myself into the shop anyway, no matter how much I loved my job—which was almost as much as I loved the staff discount—because I’d have been pretty much useless, considering that I could barely move. And who would want to be helped in the
‘Everything OK, Tink?’ he said. It didn’t matter how many times I asked him to call me Lena, he always used my childhood nickname instead. I swear he only did it to wind me up. ‘You look a bit pale.’
Before I could reply, Mum’s singsong voice carried through the open doorway. ‘You’re back early, love, was that Jake dropping you off?’ she said as she bustled out of the living room to join me and Dad in the hallway. ‘Good grief, are you still in your pyjamas?’ Her gaze must have climbed all the way to my face then, though, because she didn’t give me a chance to answer, and her voice became deadly serious. ‘What’s happened?’
And that’s when I burst into tears again.
Chapter Seven
PROPOSITION
So much for the drip-feeding idea
.
One look at my parents and it all came flooding out in between mangled sobs before I could even struggle out of my coat. They ending up helping me out of it, their gasps audible, even over the racket I was making. Damn, I’d forgotten my coat was covered in blood. Mum threw her arms around me in a tight hug. Dad, too, his arms reaching around ‘his girls’, and the three of us stood there in the hallway for ages until my crying subsided.
Mum relaxed her grip first, then Dad, and we broke apart. They looked as grim as I felt, but then Mum snapped back into ‘Mum’ mode and ushered us to the kitchen. Dad and I sat around the breakfast table, watching as Mum fussed around making drinks before joining us. Yet more sweet tea was thrust at me—the huge pot for their benefit as much as mine, I suspected—and they asked me to repeat everything, having not been able to understand half of what I’d said.
Starting with the gig, I told them everything, even the whole coke thing. Once they’d got over the initial horror, they took it pretty well, considering, and when I’d finished talking they told me how proud they were of me. I’d underestimated them big time, and vowed never to tell them I hadn’t felt I could confide in them. It would only hurt them and I didn’t want that, especially when they thanked me—actually
thanked
me—for talking to them and telling them what had happened.
Instead of going into ‘lock Lena in her room forever’ mode, Mum shared a look with Dad and heaved a sigh, then told me that, although it was hard for them, they had to accept I was almost an adult. She patted my hand as Dad looked at me and nodded his agreement, and she told me they would always support me, no matter what, and how they would try to respect my decisions. I wasn’t their little girl any more.
Yikes, how grown up did that make me feel?
Unfortunately, this whole treating-me-like-an-adult thing also meant I had to call in sick myself. Naturally, I put it off as long as possible by having another cup of sickly sweet tea, then I went for a steaming hot bath to stop me from seizing up any more.
As I lay back in the soapy suds, my mind drifted to Jake. His actions had been over and above what I could have expected from my best friend’s brother. My heart raced at the thought of him, remembering how gentle his fingers had been, how caring and attentive he had been, how warm and comfortable he was to snuggle up with, how close I’d come to kissing him.
Argh!
I plunged beneath the water, not caring about the splashes over the sides, as I tried to wash away the memory of him. I eventually had to come up for air and directed my thoughts to work instead. My heart raced for an entirely different reason as I tried to psyche myself up to make the dreaded call.
It’s not as if I could have dragged myself into the shop anyway, no matter how much I loved my job—which was almost as much as I loved the staff discount—because I’d have been pretty much useless, considering that I could barely move. And who would want to be helped in the
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