One Night by Oliver Clarke Read Free Book Online

make an excuse and run. She’d be pissed off, hurt maybe, but it would fade.
    They reached the booth and he sat quickly, hoping neither Eve nor the waitress noticed the bulge that was still present in his trousers. The bag went on the bench seat next to him.      
    They ordered drinks, wine for Eve and a Singha beer for Joel. When the waitress brought them Joel raised his bottle and Eve touched her glass against it. “To this night,” she said. “I wish it could last forever.”
    They drank. The beer was cold and crisp.
    “Whatever happens we’ll always have Southend,” said Joel and Eve laughed. It lit her face up and made him wish he didn’t have to go.
    The waitress came back and they ordered their food.
    “Who are you, Joel?” Eve said while they waited for it to come.
    “Don’t ask that,” he said. “I’m just a guy passing through.”
“Ships that pass in the night?” she said and it hurt her a little.
    “I’m sorry, Eve. It can’t be any other way. I can’t explain it, you’ll just have to trust me.”
    “I do, she said. “Trust you. And stop saying sorry, I’ve told you about that.”
    “Sorry, miss,” he said and winked at her.
    She laughed and playfully punched his arm across the table. He caught her hand and held it.
    “It’s for the best,” he said. “I’m not a good person to be around,”
    They were both quiet for a minute and then Eve spoke.
    “Can you at least tell me what’s in the bag?”
    “It’s my last victim,” he said.
    “Did you charm her to death?”
    He laughed. “Seriously, it’s just my clothes. Like I said I’m passing through.”
    “Okay,” she said. “Let’s turn this around. What will you tell me? Where did you grow up?”
    “Tottenham,” said Joel. It was a long time since he’d talked about his childhood.
    “Did you have any brothers or sisters?”
    “I don’t know.” He took a breath. “I grew up in a children’s home. There and foster homes.”
    “Sorry,” she said. “That must have been hard.”
    He shrugged “It’s all I know so I can’t really compare it to anything. I survived, that’s the best I can say about it I guess. Oh, and don’t say sorry.”
    “You got me,” she laughed.
    “I did didn’t I? How about you? Normal childhood?”
    “I guess,” she said. “Until I was ten. Then my dad died.”
    “Oh shit that’s tough. I can’t imagine how tough. I never knew mine so I never missed him.”
    “I’m sure that’s not true.”
    “I guess you’re right,” he said. “I suppose I miss the idea of a dad, but it’s just my idea of what a dad should be. It’s dads from TV and movies and books all rolled into one perfect father. It’s bullshit. Tell me about yours.”
    Eve’s strongest memory of her dad was of him making a house for her Barbie. One of her friends at school had one and Eve had craved it so much it hurt. The Malibu Barbie beach house with a Malibu Barbie and Ken and Jazzie and Stacie and all the accessories. Eve just had the one Barbie, a hand me down from her cousin. She tore the page with the beach house on it out of the Argos catalogue and stuck it on her wall. When her birthday was a month away she started dropping hints. She didn’t think she’d get it, she never got anything she really wanted, but she hoped. There was a package waiting for her on her birthday. Her dad held it out to her with a smile on his face that made her heart leap with excitement. This was it. The beach house. She ripped off the cheap thin plain paper, cut from a massive roll bought by her parents because it would just about work for anyone’s birthday. The first tear revealed that inside was a brown cardboard box. Her heart sank a little but the hope remained, maybe the proper box was inside it. She tore more of the paper off and saw that her dad had drawn the Barbie logo on the box with her felt tips. By the time she opened the box she was almost crying. Inside it was a house her dad had made. Even as a child