He scoffs and she laughs as she sashays out of the bar, taking the fur coat that’s held out by the cloakroom attendant on her way.
Miller yanks a wallet from his pocket and throws a pile of notes onto the bar, and then takes my neck. ‘We’re leaving.’
I don’t fight him off. I’m in shock, I feel sick, and my head is ringing. I can’t even think clearly to comprehend what’s happening. I feel my legs moving beneath me, but I don’t seem to be going anywhere. I can feel my heart beating wildly, but I don’t seem to be able to breathe. My eyes are open, but all I can see is my mother.
‘Livy?’
I look up at him blankly, finding sorrow, anguish and torment. ‘Tell me I’m dreaming this,’ I murmur quietly. It’ll be the worst dream ever, but as long as it’s not real, I don’t care. Please let me wake up.
His face screws up in defeat as he stops walking, bringing me to a halt by the giant glass doors. He looks totally beaten. ‘Olivia, I wish I could say yes.’
I’m pulled into his arms and compressed against his chest violently, but I don’t return his thing. I’m numb.
‘We’re going home.’ He tucks me into his side and leads me onto the street. We walk some distance, neither one of us saying anything, me because I physically can’t and Miller because I know he doesn’t know what to say. I might’ve been rendered useless by shock, but my brain is working better than ever before, and it’s making me relive memories that I’ve already spent too much time on recently. My mother. Me. And now Miller.
I’m bundled into his car carefully, like he’s worried I might break. I might – if I’m not broken already. I want to rewind the evening, change so many things, but where would I be then, apart from unaware and completely in the dark?
‘Would you like me to take you home?’ he asks quietly, settling cautiously in his seat.
I turn my blank face to his. The roles are reversed. It’s him showing all of the emotion now, not me. ‘Where else would I want to go?’ I ask.
His eyes drop, he starts the engine, and I’m driven home with Snow Patrol reminding me to open my eyes.
The journey is slow, like he’s dragging it out, making it last for the longest time, and when he slowly pulls up outside Nan’s house, I open the door to get out without delay.
‘Livy.’ He sounds desperate as he seizes my arm and stops me from getting any further, but he says no more. I’m not sure what he can say, and he clearly doesn’t either.
‘What?’ I ask, hoping I’m going to wake at any moment and find myself wrapped in his thing, safe in his bed away from the cold harshness of the reality that I’ve found myself in – a reality that is all too familiar.
The silence is disturbed by Miller’s phone, and he stabs at the reject button on a curse, but it soon rings again. ‘Fuck!’ he yells, tossing it onto the dashboard. It stops and chimes again.
‘You’d better get that.’ I pull my arm from his grip. ‘I expect they are all prepared to hand over their thousands for a night with London’s most notorious male escort. You may as well make some extra cash while you f**k a woman. I must owe you thousands.’
I ignore his wince and leave him in the car with a face full of hurt, set on throwing all my energy into getting over the second prostitute I’ve been landed with in my short life. Except this one accepted and comforted me. This one will be harder to get over. No, this one will be impossible to get over. I can feel a darker solitude awaiting me.
Chapter 24
When dawn breaks, I’m still staring blankly up at the ceiling of my bedroom. It was a catch-22 situation – fall asleep and have nightmares, or stay awake and live them. My decision was made for me. I couldn’t sleep. My poor mind isn’t being given any respite and my eyes are being bombarded with flashbacks of his face. I’m in no fit state to face the world. Just as I feared, I’m further in solitary than I ever was before I met Miller Hart.
My mobile chimes from my bedside table and I reach over, knowing it could be only one of two people, but going by the defeated look on Miller’s face last night, I’m opting for Gregory. He’ll want the lowdown from the rest of my weekend with the coffee-hater. I’m right. I feel no guilt as I reject his call and let the voicemail pick it up. I can’t speak to anyone. I fire him a quick text.
Late 4 work. Call u later. Hope u r ok xx
I might be late, I’m not sure, but it doesn’t matter because I’m not going anywhere, except further under my covers where it’s dark and silent. I hear the creaking of floorboards, and then the chirpy singing of Nan. It makes my eyes swell with tears again, but I brush them determinedly away when she barrels into my room and hits me with delighted navy eyes.
‘Morning!’ she chirps, making her way to my curtains and flinging them open. The morning light attacks my eyes.
‘Nan! Shut the curtains!’ I burrow under my covers, escaping the brightness but mostly escaping the look of her cheerful face. It’s eating me up inside.