One Night Only (27 page)

“I’l
l
mak
e
a
n
appointmen
t
tomorro
w
,
”
sai
d
Ruth, runnin
g
he
r
finger
s
throug
h
he
r
outgrow
n
bo
b
an
d
feeling
tw
o
fee
t
high
.
“Ho
w
abou
t
fis
h
an
d
chip
s
fo
r
te
a
then? Melanie
,
please
?
Fis
h
an
d
chips?
”

Bu
t
Melani
e
wasn
’
t
listenin
g
a
t
al
l
no
w
.
Sh
e
eve
n
ha
d
the
chee
k
t
o
sin
g
alon
g
wit
h
Coldpla
y
t
o
drow
n
Rut
h
out
.
That
wa
s
it
.
Rut
h
ha
d
ha
d
enoug
h
o
f
talkin
g
t
o
a
bric
k
w
a
ll
!

“
Melanie!
”
sh
e
shoute
d
an
d
pulle
d
th
e
headphones fro
m
he
r
daughter
’
s
ears
.
The
y
caugh
t
i
n
he
r
hai
r
which mad
e
he
r
yel
p
lik
e
a
wounde
d
anima
l
bu
t
Rut
h
wasn
’
t
one bi
t
sorr
y
.
“Hav
e
som
e
blood
y
manners!
”

“
Ow
!
I
wa
s
listenin
g
t
o
that!
”

“
W
ell
,
wh
y
don
’
t
yo
u
liste
n
t
o
m
e
fo
r
a
change
?
Do yo
u
wan
t
fis
h
an
d
flippin
’
chip
s
o
r
not?
”

Sh
e
mad
e
sur
e
t
o
sa
y
‘flippin
’
’
rathe
r
tha
n
us
e
another
expletiv
e
becaus
e
Melani
e
love
d
a
n
excus
e
t
o
swea
r
and Rut
h
wasn
’
t
givin
g
he
r
one
.
N
o
wa
y
.

Melani
e
recognise
d
thi
s
an
d
decide
d
t
o
tak
e
th
e
piss.
“Fro
m
th
e
flippin
’
chipp
y
o
r
flippin
’
home-made?
”
she
asked
,
a
s
i
f
i
t
mad
e
al
l
th
e
differenc
e
i
n
th
e
world
.

I
t
probabl
y
did
.
Ruth
’
s
cookin
g
sucke
d
an
d
the
y
all kne
w
it
.

“Fro
m
th
e
chippy!
”

“The
n
yes
!
Y
ou
r
chip
s
ar
e
sogg
y
.
”

Rut
h
resiste
d
th
e
urg
e
t
o
pul
l
he
r
hai
r
again
,
o
n
purpose th
i
s
time
.

“
Than
k
you
!
No
w
,
wa
s
tha
t
s
o
difficult?
”
sh
e
asked bu
t
Melani
e
wa
s
awa
y
again
,
he
r
nimbl
e
finger
s
working o
v
ertim
e
o
n
th
e
Blackberry
’
s
tin
y
key
s
an
d
he
r
ear
s
plugg
e
d
wit
h
headphones
.

Al
l
tha
t
jus
t
t
o
fin
d
ou
t
wha
t
sh
e
wante
d
t
o
eat
!
Ruth
shuddere
d
a
t
th
e
though
t
o
f
gettin
g
a
n
answe
r
t
o
a
difficu
l
t
questio
n
fro
m
he
r
daughter
!

Sh
e
lef
t
Melani
e
t
o
it
,
surrounde
d
b
y
he
r
Coldplay paraphernali
a
an
d
scatte
r
cushion
s
an
d
dirt
y
washin
g
that
sh
e
totall
y
refuse
d
t
o
lif
t
fro
m
he
r
bedroo
m
floo
r
and storme
d
dow
n
t
o
th
e
kitche
n
wher
e
sh
e
automatically reache
d
fo
r
a
bottl
e
o
f
gi
n
fro
m
th
e
cupboard
.
I
t
wa
s
after six
.
Therefor
e
sh
e
wa
s
no
t
a
n
alcoholic
.
I
t
wa
s
‘evening’.
“Jus
t
one,
”
sh
e
tol
d
herself
,
ignorin
g
ho
w
he
r
hands wer
e
shakin
g
an
d
he
r
hear
t
wa
s
thumpin
g
a
s
sh
e
poured
th
e
cool
,
clea
r
liqui
d
int
o
th
e
glass
.

Sh
e
downe
d
th
e
drin
k
i
n
on
e
go
,
feelin
g
ignite
d
a
s
soon a
s
th
e
soothin
g
effect
s
o
f
th
e
alcoho
l
hi
t
he
r
bloodstream. I
t
wa
s
time
s
lik
e
thi
s
whe
n
sh
e
wondere
d
wh
y
o
n
earth
sh
e
ha
d
move
d
bac
k
t
o
thi
s
dead-en
d
tow
n
a
t
all
.
I
f
she
wa
s
i
n
London
,
sh
e
coul
d
hav
e
calle
d
o
n
Cath
y
o
r
Georgie
t
o
d
o
somethin
g
with
,
bu
t
roun
d
her
e
al
l
sh
e
ha
d
wa
s
a
fourteen-yea
r
-ol
d
wh
o
gav
e
he
r
nothin
g
bu
t
ba
d
manners an
d
a
nineteen-yea
r
-ol
d
bo
y
wh
o
wa
s
s
o
obsesse
d
wit
h
his
ne
w
girlfrien
d
tha
t
h
e
couldn
’
t
possibl
y
d
o
anythin
g
that
didn
’
t
involv
e
he
r
.
Apar
t
fro
m
sleep
,
whe
n
h
e
probabl
y
.
.