Page 37 of The Alternate Captain
I dip into the bathroom and grab some toilet paper, since that’s all I can think of, and hand it to her.
“Thanks,” she sniffs, moving off the stairs.
The whole thing breaks my heart. Seeing Vicky cry is one thing, but this is completely different. She looks so fucking sad, and I want to comfort her. I want to make her feel better. I want to see her smile.
I wrap my arms around her, her head fitting into the crook of my neck with ease. For a moment, I think I’ve over-stepped the mark, but then her arms snake around me and she squeezes me gently.
“It’s okay,” I soothe, catching myself breathing in the smell of her shampoo.
And despite what happened in April, this doesn’t feel weird. It feels...
Her mom’s footsteps pull us apart. Kelly discreetly moves back two steps to avoid any obvious sign of our hug. Judith hands her a mug and slips away, not even commenting on my loitering spot.
“I heard about the email,” I say. “I’m sorry.” I regret it as soon as it’s out. But for some reason, I keep fucking talking. “I’d love to tell you it wasn’t meant to be or whatever, but you probably don’t want to hear that yet. I know I didn’t want to hear it when I didn’t get—”
“No, I know. I... you know what? It doesn’t matter.” She sniffs loudly and dabs her eyes with the tissue. A carriage clock on the wall ticks away the seconds before Kelly speaks again. “Mam said Mike was having some friends over. I guess I should have known it’d be you.”
“Yeah. I guess I’d have told you, but I don’t have your number or anything.”
“Right.”
“I suppose I could have tried to message you on socials, but my sister looks after my accounts and she’s nosier than Bettsy.”
She smiles, ever so subtly. “It’s fine. I mean, I wouldn’t have stopped you coming over or whatever.”
“Well, I was, uh... actually hoping I’d bump into you.”
“You were?” Her eyes are full and sad, but there’s a flash of excitement on her face. I shove my hands into the pockets of my chinos, contemplating what I should say next, but me being me, I fuck it up.
“You didn’t tell Mike about my, uh, problem, did you?”
Her face turns cold again. She stares at me, blank at first, as if she’s processing what I’ve asked, but then she blinks and purses her lips. “No, Johnny. I didn’t. In fact, you haven’t come up once in conversation,” she snaps, setting her mug down on a sideboard.
Shit.
She steps forward, with purpose this time, and I’m forced to step aside and let her pass.
“Kelly, wait—I’m sorry I didn’t mean to—”
I grit my teeth and follow her. But instead of stepping out into the garden, where everyone else is, she disappears behind a door at the far end of the kitchen.
“Johnny? Come on, man. Are you playing or what?” Ffordey calls as he waves a deck of cards at me.
Just as I’m about to step outside, the door Kelly went through flings open, and she strides out with her jacket on.
“I’m going out,” she shouts into the garden before brushing past me towards the front door.
I turn to follow her, but the slam of the front door tells me all I need to know.
When Charlotte texted meearlier, asking if I was keen for a few drinks in a beer garden, it was a firm no. But, because of recent events, sitting in a beer garden with people I don’t really know nor do I want to socialise with, is a lot more appealing than sitting at home with Johnny, listening to Mike swoon over him.
I get the bus to town, making it all the way there before Mam calls me, demanding to know where I am.
“Out.”
“Out where?” she says.
“The pub.”
