Monkey Business by Kathryn Ledson Read Free Book Online Page B

couch.
    â€˜Whoopsie!’ I got on all fours.
    â€˜Let’s get you home, missy,’ said a familiar voice. ‘Or should I say “messy”.’
    Jack stood me up. I elbowed his chin as I flung my arms around his neck. He was frowning at me. Was he? I couldn’t tell. He was too far away. No, he wasn’t. His arms were around my waist, holding me up.
    â€˜Bloody hell, Erica. You’re wasted.’ Was that Steve?
    â€˜You’re not my mother,’ I said to Lucy, flopping toward her and poking her chest.
    â€˜I didn’t say anything!’ she said.
    I stuck my nose in Jack’s armpit. ‘You shmell nice.’
    â€˜Right,’ he said and threw me over his shoulder.
    â€˜Careful she doesn’t throw up on you,’ said Lucy.
    I hung down Jack’s back. Smacked his bottom. ‘Nice bottom.’
    â€˜Say goodnight, Erica.’
    There were two pairs of shoes looking at me. One big pair and one small pair. ‘Night, Erica,’ I said to them and the shoes got higher and higher until they disappeared at the top of some stairs.

    There was Jack’s face again, smudgy.
    â€˜Is it tomorrow?’
    â€˜No, I just put you to bed.’
    â€˜I’m a bit drunk.’
    â€˜A bit!’ He laughed. ‘What time do you need to get up? I’ll set your alarm.’
    â€˜You’re my malarm.’
    He was smiling and then he wasn’t smiling. ‘I can’t stay,’ he said.
    â€˜But whyyyyyy?’
    I yawned and he was talking. What did he say? I reached up and put my hand on his face. Poked his eye.
    â€˜Shorry.’
    â€˜I’ve set your alarm for seven. Remember, your car’s at Lucy’s.’ He leaned in and kissed my nose and my eyes, one, two, three. And my cheek. And my lips for a long time. He stroked my hair.
    I closed my eyes. ‘I luff you, Jack. Soooo much.’

CHAPTER SEVEN
    I walked into the bar of my local, the London Tavern, full and noisy because it was trivia night. Wednesday trivia was new in my life and I usually loved it but of course I didn’t feel like being there this time. It was better than being alone at my house though. Alone with my thoughts and snippets of memory. I’m sure my memory bank erased all the good, funny, nice things I did and said and kept only the ridiculous, embarrassing ones.
    Steve was grinning at me from the bar. He mouthed,
Champagne?
    Ugh. My hangover was horrible. I mouthed back,
Very funny
.
    Beer?
    What a day it had been at work, with Rosalind hovering and demanding. I gave Steve the thumbs up – yes to beer – and he pointed to where Lucy was sitting. As I approached, I saw with some horror my tiny friend lean across a table, poke the air, and shout up at some really big, angry-looking bloke, ‘If you even
think
about taking that chair you’ll be limping home!’ Unsurprisingly, he returned the chair and skulked away. Lucy threw her arms around me. ‘I’m
so
happy!’ she said.
    â€˜Great! Why?’
    â€˜Because I’ve got three days off and we’re going shopping.’
    I sat heavily. ‘I thought that wasn’t for another couple of weeks.’
    â€˜I can be excited about it now, can’t I?’
    She scowled at my lack of enthusiasm. And I felt pleased, as I often do, that I wasn’t a patient at the Epworth Hospital. I could well imagine Luce full of nurse attitude, storming into a patient’s room when that patient wasn’t doing what he or she was supposed to be. Like sleeping or getting better or something. In fact, I have an agreement with the Law of Attraction: I’ll try very hard not to get hurt on the proviso that if I do, I get sent to the Alfred Hospital.
    â€˜Have you got a hangover?’ she said.
    â€˜Yeah.’
    â€˜Did you notice we brought your car home?’
    â€˜No, I didn’t. Thanks.’
    â€˜Why are you looking so miserable?’ she