Page 120 of An Unholy Affair
‘Yeah, well, then I must be a foetus.’
Cyrille laughed. ‘All the ladies love cute baby Jack.’
He paused, thinking about his life in France. There was such a dissonance between Jasper that slept with any woman for cash, and Jack who could only get it up for one. His life as an escort was completely divorced from his present reality, yet only a month ago he’d been balls-deep in Antoinette Lavigne—a bored socialite with too much time and money on her hands.
‘Cyrille, can I ask you a question?’
‘Of course, mon chéri.’
‘Do you think I drink too much?’
‘Quoi? Of course not. Wine is life!’
‘But have you ever seen me without a drink?’
‘No, but so what? It’s part of la culture. We drink, we party, we fuck, we sleep, then we do it all over again.’
‘But—’
‘Putain, what is wrong with your head?’
‘I—’
‘When’s your big party?’
‘Saturday.’
‘Bon, then you can come home. England is so cold and damp. There is nothing for you there.’
When Jack gotoff the call to Cyrille, he didn’t feel any better. Speaking to his friend brought back all the visceral memories of his life. Nearly ten years of parties, wining and dining, with alcohol as the social lubricant that helped him and his clients relax enough to have sex when they knew nothing about each other.
God? Okay, now I don’t believe in you, but Eveline does, so I’m putting my faith in you via her. I don’t know what I’m doing anymore, and I sure as shit don’t know where I’m going. I just can’t see myself ever returning to France or doing anything without Eveline by my side. If you’re listening and give even the tiniest shit, then please give me a sign. Show me what I need to do.
Up ahead, a woman was getting out of a car, speaking on her phone. She slung a bag over her shoulder, locked the car and went to drop the keys into her bag. They missed, falling onto the pavement. She didn’t notice, running up a small flight of stone steps into a Baptist Chapel.
Jack ran forward and scooped up the keys. ‘Excuse me? Hello?’
The door closed behind the woman with a bang.
He followed her into the building. There was an entrance hall with stairs on the left leading to the balcony. In front of him was another door. He pushed it open.
‘Hello?’
Inside was a group of people sitting on chairs in a circle. A man stood and came to greet him. Jack frowned. He seemed familiar.
‘Hi, I’m Kieran,’ he said, holding out his hand.
Jack passed him the keys. ‘That lady over there dropped these outside.’
Kieran turned and held them up. ‘Sal, these yours?’
The woman pushed her chair back with a screech and came over. ‘Thank you, love. You’re an angel.’ She took the keys and went back to her seat.
Kieran smiled at him. ‘You want to join us?’
‘Er, what is this?’
‘Alcoholics Anonymous, also known as AA or the twelve-step program.’
