Page 48 of Musical Games
She looked from his smiling face to Jamie’s flushed one. She knew that holding her hand was unwelcome and now Billy was suggesting more of his body came in contact with hers. Visions of Mrs McCreedie in his arms came to her mind. She wanted him to hold her so much, but he appeared in physical pain at the thought of touching her. She let go of him and pulled her skirt up her thighs.
‘It’s okay, I’ll just hoick this up,’ she trilled. ‘I’ll try not to flash my pants.’
Jamie’s jaw dropped and he leapt forward, tugging her skirt down and sweeping her into his arms. Before she could comprehend what was happening, she was in the basket. He climbed in and stood on the opposite side from her, facing away.
Beardy-man number two presented her with a plastic flute. ‘Hello, I’m Robert. Champagne?’
‘We normally serve guests cava,’ Billy whispered out of the corner of his mouth. ‘But Jamie supplied us with the good stuff.’
She looked at Jamie’s back. He seemed captivated by the view of a field and a van.
She took the glass from Robert. ‘Heghlu’DI’ mobbe’lu’chugh QaQqu’ Heghwanl,’ she said in a shaky voice before downing it.
‘Is that Gaelic?’ Billy asked.
Jamie turned around. ‘Klingon.’
‘Well, I never,’ he said, passing Jamie a glass. ‘What does it mean?’
‘Death is an experience best shared,’ she said in a strangled whisper.
There was a beat, then Billy and Robert fell about laughing. Jamie passed his glass to her and she poured it down her throat. She hadn’t eaten anything that morning and the alcohol was already punching its way into her bloodstream and fighting with adrenaline for control over her body. Billy tried to take the two glasses out of her hands and she didn’t realise how strongly she was gripping them.
He brought out the bottle and refilled them. ‘It’s always cocktail hour somewhere around the world,’ he said with a wink.
There was a lurch and Sam squealed.
‘Chocks away!’ Robert cheered.
Sam drank her third glass of champagne and was halfway through her fourth when Jamie moved closer.
‘Are you sure you’re okay?’
She peered over the rim of her glass into his anxious eyes and nodded.
He handed her empty glasses to Billy and turned back to her.
Just focus on him. Pretend you’re still on the ground. Everything’s fine.
‘Are you ready to have a look?’ he asked. ‘The view’s better if you aren’t looking at me.’
Wanna bet?
Sam held her breath and inched her body around, focusing on the weaved wicker side of the basket, the leather padding sewn around the edge. In her peripheral vision was the pale light of nothingness.
‘It’s so beautiful, Sam.’
Her name on his lips, said with such reverence, forced her eyes open.
Height, air, drop, death.
She turned back to him, burying her head in his chest, his T-shirt scrunched in her fists, her breathing hot and fast as the blinding blackness consumed her.
‘Sam!’ His voice was in her ear, his arms around her, holding her tightly to him. ‘I’ve got you.’
Her legs gave out, her body shuddering, but she didn’t fall. She was held. She was safe. She forced herself to breathe in through her nose. The scent of his body wash and the innate smell of him was more soothing and intoxicating than anything from a bottle. She could feel the brush of his lips against her ear, the heat from his voice.
‘I’ve got you. It’s okay. Just breathe.’
