Page 52 of Lesson Learned

“You like whiskey, or would you prefer something else?” The question freezes her face solid, and I choose something she might like better. “I have an open bottle of white wine in the fridge if you like.”

She nods and I don’t know whether that’s because it’s her preference or she’s picking what’s easy. I pour a modest amount, replacing the bottle in the fridge and taking the glass through to the lounge. “Here you go.”

Paisley shakes enough for me to be glad I didn’t fill it to the brim. I wait until she’s taken a couple of sips, then sit beside her.

“What brings you here?”

She takes a deep breath, letting it out slowly as she closes her eyes. Each second that passes without information cranks my anxiety up a notch. My throat aches to see her trembling. I doubt it’s entirely from cold.

“The first night we…”

She trails to a halt, and I say, “Yes,” just to get her to continue.

“I was wearing a dress and I just… do you still have it? I know it was damaged, but I need to get it fixed and return it to my friend.”

Not bloody likely. I know exactly where it is and exactly what I’ve done to it, which is why it’s going nowhere near her.

“It was torn.” Which is a nice way to remove myself from blame. “I tore it.” Better. “But I can buy you another or refund the purchase price if you need it.”

“Can we…? I need it tomorrow.”

Her eyes finally meet mine and they’re flat, as dead as day-old roadkill. That more than anything frightens me. When I saw her yesterday, she was fine. Better than fine. Glorious. One hundred percent spectacular.

A little upset by the awkwardness of the situation, but otherwise good.

“Okay. Just…” I frown, trying to sort out priorities. Stay here and work on her until she breaks down and tells me more. Or organise what she needs, then hope her relief transfers into a fuller confession.

Perhaps sort out a little helper to get her relaxed enough to talk.

“Just give me a minute.”

I set my glass down and leave the room, pulling the phone from my pocket as I reach my bedroom, pulling the dress from beneath the spare pillow, shoving the panties I confiscated from her on the same night back underneath.

The tag gives the name of a boutique store in town, and I quickly find the number online and dial.

The assistant who answers confirms they have another in stock, taking my card and promising to have it waiting, ready for collection tomorrow. Once I hang up the call, I stay there for a second, then fetch a small bottle of pills from the ensuite medicine cabinet.

I walk into the kitchen, breaking open a few capsules and adding them to the wine, swirling the bottle, observing it until the powder completely dissolves. The remaining pills go in the pantry, then I hesitate.

They’ll stupefy her, the sole reason I got hold of them in the first place, but they should also loosen her tongue.

Paisley’s talking around the edge of her distress, but I need her to go deeper. If my girl’s in trouble, I could be, too, but my aim isn’t completely selfish. I also want to make sure the help I give is the right help.

Anything else that might happen because of the wine, because of its effects on her, I can decide later. It may not even take her all the way out; I don’t have the practice to know.

She mightn’t accept another glass. I could end up pouring this straight down the sink at the end of the night.

I return the bottle to the fridge, ready and waiting, then walk through to the lounge.

“They have another dress in stock,” I say and as her body sags with relief, fear jolts through me. Something far worse hovers under the surface of her request. Nothing to do with a spat between friends. “I’ll collect it tomorrow and drop it by the school.”

“Will you? Thank you,” she squeals, jumping to her feet to hug me, bouncing on her toes. “Thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you.” Then she steps back, suddenly shy. “I can pick it up if you prefer. It’s no bother.”

“And deprive me of seeing you again tomorrow? Not a chance.”

The words rush out without me thinking but she smiles at them, her eyes finally sparking with the light I’m used to seeing in their depths.

“I’m not sure how much it is but I can pay you—”

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