Page 107 of Euphoria


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Morgan moved her fingers back and forth, a come-hither motion that had Alex squirming and mewling. “I think the issue is a simple case of getting what you want.” She smiled into the kiss. “Easily treatable, but a long-term condition.”

Chapter Fifty-Four

Lincoln

The days were all rolling into one now they were on the last stages of the tour. York had been a success, as had every performance before it. Now, with their affair out in the open, at least with those who needed to know, Morgan was relaxed.

“There’s been no panic attacks, and my ankle is fine,” Alex said. “Go and enjoy the sights. I’ll only be rehearsing and composing.”

“Are you sure? I’d really love to go for a walk and check out the town. I might never come here again.”

Alex grinned. “Of course, go and enjoy yourself.”

“Okay, I have my phone if I’m needed.” She bent down and kissed Alex on the top of the head while she ran the scales to loosen her joints.

Lincoln was a beautiful city full of old buildings and a lot of history. Morgan wandered the main street and perused the shop windows. She wanted to get something for Alex, something that was cute but fancy, and would remind her of Morgan when they were apart – which was bound to be the case often whenall of this was over, and she went back to her real life and the hospital.

It was strange, she considered, how so much had happened in such a relatively small amount of time. Just a few days, not even a month, and her entire life felt as though it had twisted on an axis and something magical was happening.

She’d been in love before, and she recognised the signs instantly. She was falling for Alex, and the feelings were mutual. She grinned to herself as she stared in through the window of a clothes store at the silk scarf covered in musical notes.

She went inside and examined it. Not quite what she was looking for, but it was perfect. Silky soft as it slid between her fingers. Her imagination found an image of her wrists bound by it to a bed, Alex on top of her doing all manner of unspeakable things. The idea excited her, and she took the scarf to the till and paid the extortionate price. Tucking the wrapped package into her bag, she moved towards the door and as she was about to step out, she stopped. Right there in front of her was someone she hadn’t expected to see.

Blonde hair, average height. The woman, no more than twenty feet away. Laurel. This was now beyond coincidence, wasn’t it?

Morgan froze. Unable to take her eyes off of her, she watched as Laurel scrutinised her. No expression on her face, just a blank stare, hands limply hanging by her side.

Slowly, Morgan turned around and contemplated leaving through another exit, but there wasn’t one. When she looked back, she half expected that Laurel would have vanished, but she hadn’t. She was just stood there, still staring across the street at Morgan through the glass.

You have dealt with so much more than this,Morgan told herself. She reached for the door handle and opened it as calmly as she could and stepped outside into the bustling street.

“What do you want?” Morgan asked. She didn’t need to shout. Laurel just continued to stare at her, or through her, Morgan wasn’t sure, but she felt emboldened, even though she knew Alex would say it was stupid, Mack would agree, and god only knew what Francine would say.

Actually, she thought Francine would probably be the only one on her side, and maybe Nancy. Morgan stepped forward, one, then two, then three steps until they were barely ten feet away from one another. “Why are you doing this?”

There was no denial. As though coming out of a trance, Laurel’s focus came to life, held in place by Morgan’s slow approach.

“You have to go,” she said, and Morgan felt a chill run down her spine.

There was something cold in her eyes, something not all there, as though she were in a different headspace to the rest of the world. It unnerved Morgan, and she’d seen a lot of people like this over the years, but not quite so personal as when the woman repeated her threat.

“You have to go. She’s not yours. You have no business being in my place.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” Morgan responded as boldly as she could, but she’d stopped moving any closer.

“You will, you’ll leave, just like all the rest. I just have to wait.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” Morgan repeated.

A siren blasted from somewhere, maybe the next street. It was close and loud and made Morgan jump a little. She turned in the direction it came from, and when she turned back, Laurel was gone.

She looked left, and then right. No sight of her.

Hurriedly, Morgan made her way back towards the cathedral. She needed to warn Alex.

Morgan could hear the sound of the piano playing the moment she opened the side door and flashed her ID card at the man currently guarding it. She breathed a sigh of relief. If Alex was playing, then she was fine.

Her heels click-clacked as she made her way quickly down the corridor and wound her way out into the area where the altar stood and where the choir would sing. The stage area, and where Alex currently sat on her stool at the piano, were in the centre of the N.W. and S.W. Transept. Her fingers glided across the keys, then she stopped momentarily to speak with Jessie.

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