One Night Only (144 page)

“Sto
p
th
e
car!
”
sh
e
sai
d
an
d
Poll
y
pulle
d
int
o
th
e
side
o
f
th
e
road
,
yankin
g
o
n
th
e
brak
e
s
o
har
d
tha
t
i
t
made
everyon
e
jol
t
ou
t
o
f
thei
r
daydream
s
an
d
bac
k
int
o
the her
e
an
d
no
w
.

“What
?
What
’
s
wrong?
”

T
es
s
opene
d
th
e
doo
r
an
d
leane
d
outside
,
undoin
g
her seatbel
t
wit
h
a
shakin
g
hand
.

“I’
m
goin
g
t
o
b
e
–
”

Sick
.
Sh
e
wa
s
s
o
sick
.
Sh
e
crawle
d
ou
t
ont
o
th
e
grass
verg
e
an
d
hel
d
he
r
hai
r
bac
k
wit
h
on
e
han
d
bu
t
nothing woul
d
come
,
onl
y
tear
s
whic
h
streame
d
dow
n
he
r
face
whic
h
wer
e
sodde
n
wit
h
guil
t
an
d
sham
e
an
d
remorse
.

“I’
m
s
o
scared
,
Poll
y
,
”
sh
e
said
.
“Wha
t
a
m
I
goin
g
to do?
”

Poll
y
wa
s
standin
g
b
y
he
r
sid
e
no
w
.
Th
e
smel
l
of potentia
l
sic
k
wouldn
’
t
d
o
muc
h
fo
r
he
r
ow
n
hangover bu
t
sh
e
couldn
’
t
leav
e
he
r
siste
r
t
o
puk
e
o
n
he
r
own
.
It wa
s
a
n
unwritte
n
rul
e
fro
m
thei
r
teenag
e
days
.
I
f
someone wa
s
eve
n
thinkin
g
o
f
bein
g
sick
,
yo
u
staye
d
wit
h
them, helpe
d
the
m
clea
n
u
p
an
d
wen
t
o
n
abou
t
you
r
business.
Bu
t
thi
s
wasn
’
t
a
teenag
e
nigh
t
out
.
Thi
s
wa
s
a
real-life
adul
t
‘stan
d
u
p
an
d
b
e
counte
d
for
’
mes
s
tha
t
T
es
s
had foun
d
hersel
f
in
.
Poll
y
wa
s
scare
d
to
o
bu
t
sh
e
couldn
’
t
admi
t
t
o
that
.

“
I
ca
n
g
o
wit
h
you
,
i
f
yo
u
like?
”
sh
e
suggested
.
“Maybe
i
f
I
wa
s
ther
e
t
o
bac
k
yo
u
up
,
Ro
b
migh
t
eve
n
se
e
a
funny
sid
e
t
o
it
.
An
d
yo
u
di
d
brea
k
you
r
toe
,
don
’
t
forget
?
Surely
yo
u
deserv
e
a
littl
e
bi
t
o
f
slac
k
fo
r
bein
g
injured?
”

“O
h
God
,
yeah!
”
sai
d
Rut
h
ou
t
throug
h
th
e
windo
w
.
“
I
don
’
t
thin
k
I
sai
d
sorr
y
abou
t
that
.
Sorry
!
Bu
t
ar
e
you sur
e
i
t
wa
s
m
y
fault?
”

“
Y
es!
”
spluttere
d
T
ess
.
Sh
e
ha
d
acknowledge
d
tha
t
she
couldn
’
t
b
e
sic
k
an
d
wipe
d
he
r
mout
h
wit
h
a
fres
h
tissue
whic
h
cam
e
straigh
t
fro
m
Polly
’
s
eve
r
-availabl
e
pac
k
of Hand
y
Andies
.
Poll
y
alway
s
ha
d
Hand
y
Andies
.

“
I
honestl
y
don
’
t
remembe
r
,
”
sai
d
Ruth
.
“
I
can
’
t
apologis
e
enough
.
Bu
t
i
t
ma
y
b
e
you
r
get-out-of-jai
l
card wit
h
you
r
husband
.
Ever
y
clou
d
an
d
al
l
tha
t
.
.
.
”

Gin
a
wa
s
sniggerin
g
a
s
sh
e
picture
d
th
e
scene
.
T
es
s
had looke
d
s
o
glamorou
s
th
e
nigh
t
befor
e
an
d
sh
e
reall
y
had bee
n
givin
g
i
t
al
l
o
n
th
e
danc
e
floo
r
.

“Whe
n
exactl
y
di
d
i
t
happen?
”
sh
e
asked
.

T
es
s
climbe
d
bac
k
int
o
th
e
ca
r
,
feelin
g
a
littl
e
bi
t
bette
r
.
Poll
y
hande
d
he
r
a
bottl
e
o
f
wate
r
fro
m
th
e
glove
compartment
.
Sh
e
ha
d
a
bo
x
o
f
stuf
f
store
d
ther
e
tha
t
she
calle
d
he
r
‘Jus
t
I
n
Case
’
bo
x
–
som
e
wate
r
,
bab
y
wipes
,
a
hairbrush
,
hai
r
bobbles
,
tissue
s
an
d
a
sewin
g
kit
.
Polly
woul
d
neve
r
b
e
caugh
t
ou
t
i
n
a
crisis
,
tha
t
wa
s
fo
r
sure
.