Time After Time: A heart-warming novel about love, loss and second chances. Hannah McKinnon Mary

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СКАЧАТЬ …’ Hayley stopped herself from adding ‘It’s not sodding 1953! No career? Are you mad?’ Instead she said, ‘Well, I still want to be a solicitor. I want to support myself and not have to rely on a guy. Unless it’s Patrick Swayze, of course. I’ll make an exception for him.’

      ‘Tell you what,’ Ellen giggled, ‘we’ll share. I’ll have him every other day.’

      ‘Hah! Listen, I’d better go and get ready. I want tonight to be brilliant.’

      ‘Wait, Hayley …’

      ‘Yeah? S’up?’

      Ellen’s voice was quiet, hesitant, not the girl brimming with confidence that Hayley was used to. ‘You … You’re not going to be like those girls who’ve had sex? You won’t stop being friends with me just because I’m still a … a virgin, and –’

      ‘What are you like?’ Hayley said as she wrapped the telephone cord around her fingers. ‘Don’t be daft. We’re best friends. No guy will ever come between us. Promise.’

      ‘Okay, phew. Have fun … Shaggy …’

      Hayley stretched and yawned after she hung up. She’d have the longest shower ever, use her new body lotion and Impulse spray, shave her legs, tackle her bikini line and make the evening absolutely perfect. She looked at the outfit she’d put on her bed. Blue leggings, long, black, off-the-shoulder shirt, yellow leather pumps and bright orange bangles.

       Wicked. Life is good.

      But standing on Chris’ doorstep six hours later, Hayley’s confidence had swirled down the drain. The rain had made her hair instantly mutate into frizzy sheep mode. She hadn’t realised how much she’d stuffed into her overnight bag. Carrying it for the ten-minute walk from Ealing Common tube station to Chris’ house had made her feel like a Sweaty Betty, and it wasn’t even that warm outside. And to top it all off she’d just scuffed her new shoes on the kerb. She wished she had a thick, woolly hat. Preferably pulled down right over her face.

       Bollocks. Big, fat, hairy bollocks, bollocks, bollocks.

      This wasn’t how she’d imagined it. If only she’d taken a taxi and arrived at Chris’ looking sexy, or as sexy as she could muster. In turn, he’d open the door, sweep her up in his arms, carry her to his bedroom and … and … well, that’s where she only technically knew what would happen, but in her imagination it was all good.

      As she alternately fiddled with her hair and wiped her hands on her leggings, Chris opened the door. He looked like a model in his stone-washed, purposely knee-ripped jeans and an army style T-shirt that showed off his muscular arms. He’d let his quiff grow a little longer and it made him look like Nick Kamen. Only sexier. Hayley gulped.

      Chris smiled, took a step forward and kissed her gently on the lips. ‘Hello, gorgeous.’

      ‘Hi.’ It was a miracle she even got that much out.

      He opened the door further. ‘Coming in?’

      It was a small house, two up, two down, with a bathroom upstairs and a separate loo on the main floor. Hayley had imagined it would be cosy, but it felt as welcoming as Broadmoor. Sparsely furnished, there were no family pictures or personal trinkets. His mum took about as much interest in interior design as she did in her son.

      ‘Is your mum in?’ Hayley said.

      ‘No, she left this morning,’ Chris said. ‘Won’t be back until tomorrow night.’

      Hayley breathed an inward sigh of relief.

       Thank goodness she’s not here to ruin everything.

      One of Hayley’s uncles was an alcoholic, so she’d spotted the tell-tale signs the first time she met Mrs. Jenkins. Her perfume of choice, Eau de Vodka, surrounded her like a cloud. She often slurred her speech and Hayley had not once seen her eat a proper meal. She’d felt sorry for her, at first, until she’d realised that Mrs. Jenkins’s only worry was her next drink.

      ‘Cup of tea?’ asked Chris, taking her bag and setting it down in the hall. ‘Or something else? I could make you a sandwich. Are you hungry?’

      ‘No, I’m okay.’ Hayley looked around and fidgeted with her new necklace, sliding the heart pendant up and down the chain.

       This is so awkward. We both know what’s going to happen tonight …

      ‘Do you fancy going out to that new pizza place or to the cinema?’ Chris said. ‘There are a couple of good films on. Uh, or we could stay in … It’s up to you. So … so what do you think?’ He waved a hand. ‘No … no rush to decide though.’

       Hang on, he’s so jumpy. Hah … He’s more nervous than me!

      She stopped fidgeting. ‘Take me upstairs.’

       Where the heck did that come from? Who do I think I am? Samantha Fox?

      ‘Are you sure you’re ready?’ Chris said and chewed on his lip. ‘We don’t have to.’

      She felt strangely empowered and sure of herself, sheep hair or no sheep hair. She reached out and put a finger to his lips. ‘I said, take me upstairs.’

      He led her to his bedroom without either of them saying another word and gently laid her down on his red and black striped comforter. As he kissed her, his tongue darted into her mouth and she reciprocated, enjoying the minty-fresh sensation.

       Mmmhh … he’s such a good snog. No slimy tongue and he can grope away.

      On cue, his hands started to wander, sliding up her shirt slowly, and under her bra.

       Oh gosh … it’s happening, it’s really happening. This is going to be amazing …

      Twelve minutes later they were sitting on the sofa, watching Back to the Future.

       Is that it? Is that what the fuss is all about?

      She looked at Chris. He reached over and patted her on the thigh as he smiled broadly.

       Well in that case I think I’ll tell Ellen not to bother.

       CHAPTER 8

       Smoke And Mirrors

      Hayley heard muffled voices somewhere in the distance and her head felt like it was stuck in a bucket of cobwebs.

      ‘She’s coming round, she’s coming round.’

      ‘Give her some space, let her breathe.’

      Hayley opened her eyes. ‘Wh-what happened?’ Her voice was a whisper.

      ‘You СКАЧАТЬ