Into the Darkest Corner by Elizabeth Haynes Read Free Book Online Page A

through the double doors, I noticed my hand was shaking. Fortunately there was nobody in there. I went into the stall first, rested my hands lightly on the back of the door, trying to breathe, trying to calm down. My heart was beating so fast there seemed to be nothing but thudding.
    I pulled the package out of my bag. The wrapping paper meant at least I didn’t have to touch it, and the contents hadn’t touched the inside of my bag, just the paper. Still shaking, I lifted the whole lid off the sanitary bin and, wrinkling my nose at the sudden stink, shoved the package inside.
    The relief was small, but instant. I retrieved my handbag and flushed the toilet, just as the door opened and three young girls came in, laughing and talking loudly about some guy called Graham and what a shit he was. I washed my hands while they busied themselves in the stalls, shouting at each other and laughing. Washed them again. Washed them a third time. When all three toilets flushed simultaneously and the doors unlocked, I dried my hands on a paper towel and left them to it.
    The rest of the meal was all right. Once the food arrived and I had something to do, I think I calmed down a little. Everyone was happy and busy talking, which meant I could watch the other diners and look out of the window.
    High Street was busy, with groups of people passing in front of the window heading to one of the pubs or restaurants, most of them happy and laughing. After a while I realized I was scanning the faces looking for Stuart. That was no good. I turned back to the table and tried my hardest to get involved in the conversation.
    When the meal was over, I had been intending to sneak off and get back home as soon as I could, but that didn’t quite happen.
    “Come for a drink,” Caroline said, “go on—just for one. We’re going to the Lloyd George. Don’t leave me on my own with all the kiddos.” She had her arm through mine, and was steering me away from Talbot Street and home. I let her steer me. I don’t know why. Part of me just felt like fighting the urges tonight. I wanted to remember what it felt like to be free.
    The Lloyd George was warm and, unlike the other pubs, not completely full. This place had once been a theater, and the high ceilings and balcony running around the top gave the place a bright, open feel. I got myself an orange juice and stood with Caroline near the bar while she rattled on about her trip to Florida and how cheap the petrol had been. I saw Stuart before he saw me, but only just before—he caught me looking at him and before I had a chance to look away he’d smiled, said something to the guy he was with, and come over.
    “Hello, Cathy,” he said, shouting above the loud clamor of conversation, “are you having a good night?”
    “Yes,” I replied, “you?”
    He grimaced. “Better now you’re here. I was dying of boredom talking to Ralphie.” He pointed his beer bottle in the direction of his previous companion, a geeky-looking guy wearing glasses and a scarf of an indiscriminate brown, who was now pretending to be involved in a conversation to his right.
    “Someone you work with?” I asked.
    He laughed. “My baby brother.” He took a swig from the bottle. “How’s the Christmas do?”
    “Not bad. Long time since I went out for a meal.” Stupid thing to say, I thought. The trouble was, this frightened person wasn’t me. I was used to making conversation with people. I was vivacious, friendly, talkative. Keeping my mouth shut was always a struggle. I wondered if I would ever get used to it.
    Robin’s hooting laughter rose above the general throng, and Stuart cast him a glance. “Is he with you?”
    I nodded, raising my eyes. “He’s an arse,” I said.
    There was a moment’s pause where we both wondered what on earth to say next.
    “So,” he said at last, tilting his head in the direction of Talbot Street, “you lived here long?”
    “A year or so.”
    He nodded. “I like that house. Feels