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Streetlamps huddled together for the first fifty yards, and then nothing, not a beam, for a couple of miles. She looked up at the blank sky above her, no idea where the hell she was heading.
Car headlights flicked up and down, blinding her, and she stepped to safety into the wet grass. She’d been walking for a mile or so when her thoughts slowed down. She pulled out her phone and called Jack. “It’s me.”
“Lucky you. I don’t answer my phone for anyone.”
“I’ve just left Rebecca’s parents’ and I’m walking down a country lane. I don’t know where I am.”
“Is she with you?”
“No. I’ve just left her. I told you.” She stumbled on the uneven ground.
“What happened?”
“It all just felt wrong. I can’t explain over the phone, but can you come and get me? I can get to the A61, I think. I’ll meet you on there.”
“Are you joking? It must be freezing out there.”
Elda hung up so she could concentrate on her footsteps. The verge was overgrown and slippery. It’d be just her luck to trip and get mown down by a speeding bus.
Why did everything have to be so hard? Why couldn’t she meet a nice, normal human? Why did she have to get herself into so many uncomfortable situations like this one? She sighed. Finding someone to share her life was proving an impossible task.
Chapter Three
The wind howled across the beach, throwing dusty sand clouds under the moonlight. Charlie closed her eyes and listened to the waves crash outside her parents’ house.
“You look tired, love. Are they working you too hard?”
“No, Mum, I’m just relaxed.” Charlie bit her cheek. She was drowsy, and her muscles still ached from the game of sex-twister with Jude.
Her head rested against the deckchair, as she breathed in the salt buried in the weave. The long drive lingered in her bones, and she was dreading the journey back. But it was worth it. This wasn’t her childhood home, but it was as close as she was going to get after her parents had retired and uprooted.
“I’m so pleased that you came today. Your dad perks up when you visit. The poor man gets bored with just me.” Her mum chuckled.
Charlie reached for her mum’s gloved hand, like she’d done so many times as a child. She took a gulp of briny air and looked across the inky water.
“It’s getting late. Will you stay the night?”
Charlie rolled damp sand between her fingers, and the shards pinched her skin. She loved spending time with her folks, but she rarely managed more than a flying visit. “I’ll head back soon. It’s Theresa’s anniversary tomorrow, and I want to be home.”
“Goodness, is it? Has it been, what, fifteen years?”
“Seventeen. She’s been dead longer than she was alive.” Charlie studied her hands, stretching and gathering the skin at her knuckles. She’d been growing older, while the girl she’d loved remained sixteen forever.
“How are you this year, darling?” Her mum shifted in her chair as a cloud drifted, revealing another cluster of stars.
Charlie watched a shadowy wave break into white foam, fizzing at the shoreline. She struggled to smile. She wanted to spare her parents from the hurt she still felt but sharing it would lessen the pain. Heaps of therapy had taught her that much. “Up and down.” She met her mother’s eyes again and leaned in. “But at least I’m here to remember her.”
Her mum ran her hand through Charlie’s hair, making her wriggle.
“Charlotte, you’ve got so much bleach in this hair of yours, it’s like straw.” She shifted in her chair, still holding Charlie’s arm. “I’m proud of you, little one.”
Charlie broke into a grin. She’d towered above her five-foot-nothing mother since she was a teenager, but she was always her little girl, no matter what strife she brought home. She was cherished. They held her when she fell, and they held her when she stood tall, and she loved them for it.
“Are you still seeing that girl, what was her name?” her mum asked.
“Jude? We’re just casual.” Charlie shivered and pulled her jacket around her against the chill.
“I worry about you. Aren’t you lonely in the city on your own?”
