Page 22 of Worth Every Game
Jesus.
Kate’s fists clench in her lap. “Do you want one of me too, Mum?”
“Gosh, no, darling. What on earth would I do with it?” Kate huffs quietly and stares out the window, and Mum continues talking to me. “I meant it when I said you’d picked a good one. Impeccable breeding and wonderful manners.”Wonderful manners?Elly’s comments spring to mind about Lydia treating servers like shit. “We can run with her if you want.”
“This is not a team sport,” I snap.
Mum looks only marginally affronted before she continues, “Just choose one of them, please. It doesn't have to be Lydia, but she’s my first choice. It’s the charity event in memory of your father in a few weeks, and I’ll invite whoever you choose to that. It can be a casual date. Not too much pressure.”
Rage simmers in my gut. This is exactly why I never tell Mum anything about the women I’m seeing. She’s always been controlling. Admittedly, never as overtly as this, but in the past,when she’s heard a rumour that I’ve been seen with someone, she never holds back an opinion, and the judgment can be vicious.
“Just take the photos and say thank you,” Kate hisses in my ear.
Mum pricks up, sitting erect in her seat as though she heard what Kate said, but she makes no comment. Rather than risk my mother’s wrath, I do as Kate suggests and tuck the photos into my pocket. “Thank you. I’ll look at them tomorrow.”
Mum offers me a tight-lipped smile. “Wonderful. Let me know your preferences and I’ll see about arranging that date.”
Fuck that.“Great.” I knock with one knuckle on the partition that separates us from the driver.
“Yes, sir?” the driver says.
“Can you let me out? I’m going to walk from here.”
“Oh, Jack. Don’t leave,” Mum pleads. “We’re just about to pop some decent champers.”
“Jack, no,” Kate pleads in a whisper-hiss. She’s making eyes at me that say, ‘Don’t leave me with Mum’, but I’m not up for tag-teaming tonight. I was hanging onto the celebrations by a thread, and this bundle of photos severed it.
“Sorry. I’m done. Need the sleep. I’ll pass out at the table if I come with you.” I feel a buzz of guilt that I haven’t said goodbye to the others, but I don’t feel like discussing my future wife with my mother over expensive champagne.Nightmare.
The car draws up to the curb, and I let myself out.
“Call me. I’ll be waiting,” Mum sing-songs right before I slam the door.
The car drives off, and I stand on the dark street corner, relieved to be alone.
It’s not far to my house from here, but as I start heading in that direction, Elly pops into my head. She must be home by now, alone in that shithole of a flat. I could go there…
Don’t be ridiculous.
I shove my hands deep in my pockets and walk home.
8
ELLY
It’s time for me and the slippers to part ways. Maybe it was the fast cars or the sweat or the desperate ‘kiss me’, or the way he admitted he wanted me, like it was an undeniable fact, but I cannot be dealing with constant reminders of my interactions with Jack Lansen. Enough is enough. It has to end. He's not a viable option for me, and I won’t entertain the thought of him any longer.
I slam my foot on the pedal to open the kitchen bin and drop the slippers in.Goodbye, bitches.
I dust my hands off like I’ve just achieved some pivotal ‘moving on’ moment.Symbolic. No more thoughts of Jack Lansen, thank you very much. I have to focus on the important stuff in my life, like my music, and my upcoming interview with Robert Lloyd.
The buzzer goes, and I jump at the interruption.Who the hell is here now?
The buzzer goes again.Okay, chill out.
I pace to the intercom and press the button. “Hello?”
“It’s Jack.”