Page 57 of Spiralling Skywards
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When we got back to my house Sasha was home. She was making her way down the stairs wearing nothing but a Specials band T-shirt and a pair of boy leg knickers. Her hair was wrapped in a towel. Her big brown eyes were wide when she saw the three of us coming through the front door. She looked over Will’s shoulder, probably to see if Liam was with us, and then her eyes darted back to mine. I shook my head in a very subtle movement. I was so focused on Sash that I walked straight into the back of my brother, who was apparently also focused on Sash.
He gave a salacious whistle, and she self-consciously pulled her T-shirt down to cover herself. I didn’t know why she bothered. The boys had seen her in less plenty of times. We’d had holidays together. Spent hours on beaches and around pools wearing very little. We’d shared beds in the past, all four of us on occasion when we’d been to parties and whomever the designated driver was had ended up drinking. I punched him anyway for making my friend feel uncomfortable.
Stepping around my brother, I left him rubbing his arm and staring at Sasha and headed for the kitchen. I pulled a bottle of vodka from the freezer and cranberry from the fridge. I didn’t ask if anyone else wanted one, I poured more than a double shot into a glass I’d quarter filled with crushed ice, topped it up with cranberry, and drank the lot down.
I didn’t want to believe that Liam had just done what he’d done.
I didn’t want it to be true.
I wanted to drink until it wasn’t true, or at least until I couldn’t remember it had happened.
I stared at the dishes in the sink. I thought about the reason they’d been left there.
How could he?
I felt like nothing. Inconsequential.
“Sarah?” I took a few moments to blink back my tears before turning around to face Will.
I didn’t want or need his sympathy right then, but I knew Will well enough to know that if he thought for a minute I was hurting, that was what I would get. That was just the type of bloke he was.
I schooled my features before facing him. “Sorry, Will. There’s beer in the other fridge if you want one.”
He shook his head.
“I’m good thanks. I’ve gotta drive back home later, plus we had a couple earlier and more than a skinfull last night.”
“What was the score? I’ve not seen any results.”
“We lost, 2-1.”
I nodded and smiled, wishing he would just fuck off and leave me alone. I didn’t wanna make small talk with Will. I didn’t actually know what I wanted.
I felt sick, empty, and shaky.
I wasn’t sure if I wanted to curl into a ball and sob or if I wanted to laugh maniacally.
Sasha finally appeared. “Pour us a wine, Sares. A large one. I need it after listening to my nan bang on all weekend about Reginald from the nursing home and how he gets her juices flowing.” She made sure Will wasn’t looking at her, and then added a silent, “You okay?”
I shook my head just as my brother came through the door with a beer in his hand.
“How old’s your nan now?”
“Seventy-nine,” Sasha told him.
Luke shuddered and pulled a face.
“I’m surprised she’s still got juices to flow at her age. I’d hate to think that my grandad is still banging my nan these days.”
“I don’t wanna think about my nan and the word juices together in the same sentence any time ever,” Will added.
I listened to their conversation about geriatric juices as I poured Sasha a wine and mixed myself another vodka, making it just a little bit stronger this time. I could already feel the effects of the first drink, I felt loose, disjointed, and still shaky.
“So what are you boys doing here tonight? I thought you’d be at home recovering from your trip to Manchester.”
I passed Sash her wine and joined her at the breakfast bar where she was sitting on a bar stool next to my brother. Will flipped on the kettle and started to make himself a cup of tea.
