‘Are you going to open the fecking door, or do I have to break it down?’
‘Eh?’
Bang bang bang bang bang. Amber’s eyes opened, and her world was sideways. Her brain scrambled to gain some kind of purchase on what she was seeing. The pub had gone, Tyler. She was looking at her TV, which was frozen with an image of Hugh Grant on it.Sense and Sensibility,by the looks of his period garb. The banging noise came again, and she could hear Sharon.
‘I don’t think she’s in; could she have gone somewhere?’
She shot up and fell straight off the couch. Banging her shin onthe coffee table corner as she scrabbled to get up, she cursed and ran to the window.OhmyGodmyhead.Throwing open the curtains, she looked out of the window. Tyler and Sharon were both standing there, ready for work. His dark eyes narrowed as he took her in, his shoulders coming up to meet his earlobes.Shit. What time is it?Tyler motioned for her to open the window. She pulled the sash window up, immediately regretting it when the sounds of traffic and the smell of the fresh Yorkshire air hit her. She had to try hard not to vomit out of the window.
‘I’m sorry, I must have slept in. Why didn’t you use your key?’
‘We tried. You deadbolted the doors, and your phone’s off.’ Tyler’s brows were knitted together tight. ‘Did you drink more after I left?’
There was no point lying. She was pretty sure she was still drunk. The rage was still there. She could feel it coursing through her veins with the alcohol.
‘Maybe.’ She winced. His pupils turned black, or maybe it was just her squinting eyes. ‘I’m coming down; give me a minute.’
Shutting the window, she went to the mirror above the fireplace. ‘Jesus,’ she groaned. ‘I look like an Alice Cooper tribute singer.’
Her hair was up at all angles, her beautifully arranged curls from the night before now matted and full of knots. She looked like she’d spent the night in a mosh pit. The pretty glow from the make-up was a distant memory now; she just looked gaunt. Paleandgreen, which was something of an achievement. She was still wearing her dress from the night before, the front now covered in cheese dust from the family-sized pack of Doritos she spotted on the floor. Right next to the empty bottle of champers.
Sharon’s face was a picture when she finally threw a robe on and went to answer the door.
‘Je-sus,’ she whistled. ‘You look as rough as a hedgehog’s arse.’
‘Cheers, yeah.’ She sagged against the door as the pair of themwalked in, followed by Ben and Irene, the cleaning lady. ‘Oh shit, Irene. I haven’t cleaned up from last night.’ Irene waved her off, yellow duster in hand.
‘Don’t worry, you need a coffee or something. Leave me and Sharon to sort it. Your day off, remember? Happy birthday, duck. Sorry I missed the party.’ She thrust a gift bag at her and carried on chatting to Sharon as they headed through to the bar area. Ben was standing behind Tyler looking uncomfortable to be standing next to his boss, who was positively vibrating. Tyler was standing there, arms folded in his usual bullish way. His face was hard to look at without flinching.
‘What?’ she sighed, finally looking at him.
‘What happened?’ He noticed Ben standing there and nodded towards the kitchen. ‘We’re late for prep, mate; you get cracking – I’ll just be a minute.’
Ben slumped with relief and tootled off.
‘Nothing. I finished the Champagne, had myself a little after-party.’ She groaned, reaching down to plug the phone cable back in. She had a vague memory of pulling it out of the wall the night before when it had started ringing shortly after her emailing sesh. Right about the time she locked the doors shut in case the slimy weasel showed up and cracked the key lock box. The second she pushed it back into the socket, it started ringing. ‘Oh Christ, my head.’ She picked it up. ‘Good morning, the?—’
‘Hello? Amber?’
It was Bradley.
‘Drop dead, dickface.’ She hung up. It rang again. Tyler put his hand out, but she answered it, waving him off with a shaky hand.
‘Good morning, the Lazy Slug. How can I help?’
‘Hi, I just want to talk.’
‘No,’ she spat back. ‘I don’t have anything to say, Brad!’
It rang again the second she hung up, making her headache clatter to a whole new level.
‘I can’t,’ she groaned, putting the phone back into its cradle. It rang off eventually, falling silent. ‘If he rings again, don’t answer it. Or tell him I moved. Or died. Your choice. Either way, I’m not here.’
Tyler didn’t move. He was studying her, and she felt exposed under his gaze. ‘I knew I shouldn’t have left last night. What happened?’ His eyes dropped to the food debris on her chest, and she flicked it off half-heartedly. ‘Did Bradley bother you?’
‘You could say that. I don’t want to talk about it, not yet. I can’t, too mad. You got any tablets? My head’s pounding.’
‘I’ll get you some,’ he grumbled. ‘And some water. But I want to talk, Amb. I have some stuff to say too, about last night.’