Beautiful Liar (16 page)

“She always does.”

After half an hour of listening to the counsellor making excuses for my mum, and explaining how hard she was trying, I was finally free to leave.

I was feeling thoroughly fed up by the time I got back to the flat. I didn't have the energy to make it to my room, so I flopped onto one of the sofas and closed my eyes. I was due to meet April at seven, but for the first time I had no desire to go. She'd ask me about our mother, and I didn't have it in me to pretend I gave a damn about the woman.

I'd been there for about ten minutes when I heard someone running down the stairs. I opened my eyes, and saw Alex. His hair was damp and he had his jacket on, and he was clearly on his way out somewhere. Then I remembered he was going to the concert with Jas and Hugh.

He probably wouldn't have even noticed me there, but as he got to the last step he happened to glance in my direction. “I didn't know you were back,” he said. I just shrugged. I must have been wearing my mood on my face, because he
frowned. “So what's up with you?”

I shook my head, not wanting to go into it. “I've just had a really bad day.”

“And what's in store for the evening? Something fun, I trust?” He made no effort to keep the sarcasm out of his voice.

I just shook my head again. I was worried if I tried to speak, I might start crying.

“Then instead of moping around here, why don't you come out with us instead?”

“I can't.”

“Of course you can.” He took a step towards me, his eyes glittering with challenge. “I've still got that spare ticket for tonight. For once in your life, live a little. Don't you want to know what it's like to have fun?”

“I know how to have fun.”

“Really?” He stood back and folded his arms. “Then show me.”

I knew he was goading me into agreeing to his suggestion, and I wanted to think I was smart enough not to fall for it. He was calling me chicken to get me to do something I shouldn't—it was so transparent. But in that moment I realised I didn't care. Because it suddenly dawned on me just how much I wanted to take him up on his invitation. It was wrong of me, but I just needed one night to be around people my own age; for one night I wanted to let my hair down
and forget all my responsibilities.

“You know what?” I said. “I will come with you.”

I felt a pang of concern as I noted the self-satisfied smile that crossed his face, but I pushed it to one side. “Good,” he said, and then gave a quick glance at his watch. “But we need to leave soon.”

I smiled. “Give me five minutes and I'll be ready to go.”

I hurried to my room, aware that I didn't have long. That was fine by me—I wasn't planning to make a great deal of effort. I pulled off my jumper, but decided there was no point changing out of my old jeans, white tank top and Converse trainers—if we were going to see a band, then I knew the floor would be swimming in beer. I pulled a hand through my short dark hair, and applied mascara and some black-cherry lipstick, just so it looked like I'd made some kind of effort. I finished the look with my favourite item—a fitted vintage brown-leather jacket, which had cost me a tenner from Portobello Road market.

I regarded myself in the mirror. I might not have looked glamorous and sophisticated like the girls Alex usually hung out with, but I was definitely pulling off rock chick. For a moment I wondered why it was important to me that he liked the way I looked, but I pushed the thought away, not wanting to dwell on it too much.

I tried to call April, but couldn't get through, so I left her a message apologising for not being able to make it, and
saying that I'd pop round to her school at lunchtime tomorrow instead. I felt bad as I did it, and after I put the phone down I almost changed my mind about going out. But then I thought: What difference will one night make? I can always make it up to her—perhaps even see if I can take her out during the day on Saturday.

As I headed back downstairs, I pushed my guilt to one side. If I was going to take this night for myself, I might as well enjoy it.

Alex was waiting for me at the lift. His eyes swept over me, and he smiled approvingly.

“Ready?” he said, and I nodded. “Good. Then let's go.”

* * *

The Caledonian Road wasn't exactly the swankiest area of London, and I'd worried about being dropped off in some chauffeur-driven car. Or worse still, that Alex would bring his Porsche, which would undoubtedly get nicked within five minutes of us arriving. But he seemed to have considered that. Instead, we took a cab, picking up Jas and Hugh from his apartment along the way.

“You came after all!” Jas beamed as she clambered into the taxi, linking her arm through mine as she settled down on the leather seat next to me. “That's brilliant! Tonight's going to be amazing.”

I watched Hugh get in next, carrying Jas's sparkly
handbag for her. Seeing that was almost enough to get me to believe that Jas and Alex were right, and he was a nice guy. But I was still reserving judgement.

It was a squeeze in the taxi, and Jas hugged up to me, inadvertently pressing me against Alex. I couldn't deny how aware of him I was. As Jas chattered on, I contented myself with staring out the window, watching the bright lights of the West End fade as we got farther out into the dinginess of King's Cross, until the cab pulled up in the Caledonian Road.

The venue was a former church, where club nights were held and up-and-coming bands played. When we arrived it was already swamped, and we joined the crowd that was pouring through the arched doorway. The place was rough and down-at-heel, shabby compared to the urban sophistication of Destination
.
But to my surprise, Alex looked just as at home as he did in a private members' club. He had that laid-back cool that made him instantly fit in wherever he went.

We paid the entrance fee and checked our coats into the makeshift cloakroom. I had a feeling my jacket would end up on the floor, but it was going to be too hot to keep it with me. Inside, it looked a bit like a beaten-up theatre, with a stage at the front, a bar at the back, and a dance floor/mosh pit in between. The walls were all painted black, adding to the dingy feel.

The warm-up band had already started playing. Alex turned to us to take our drinks order. The others all asked for shots of tequila. He looked at me quizzically. I thought for just a second.

“Same for me.” Tonight I was going to forget everything and let my hair down.

Jas cheered. Alex regarded me with undisguised curiosity. I knew he was wondering what exactly I was playing at.

Soon he was back from the bar, juggling the four shot glasses. We all clinked glasses and downed the bitter liquid.

“Same again!” Jas said. I didn't object.

Alex didn't say anything for the first three rounds of shots, but by the fourth he looked concerned.

“Are you sure about this?” He dipped his head towards me, so only I could hear. “It's not a good idea if you're not used to drinking.”

The sensible part of me knew that he was right. But the alcohol had already gone to my head, and I was at that stage where I felt invincible. “Don't you worry about me.” I tapped my finger against his chest, in what I knew was a flirtatious manner. “I can take care of myself. Promise.”

He came back with the shots like before, but this time he also brought bottles of water. After we'd downed the tequila, he handed me one of the waters.

“I like seeing you like this, letting go a little. But let's not go crazy. I don't want to be holding your head over the toilet
bowl before the night's over.”

I rolled my eyes at him, but dutifully drank the water down.

Then, before there was time for any more tequila, the lights dimmed and, to a chorus of cheers, whoops and wolf-whistles, Tumbleweed took to the stage.

The place was jammed from wall to wall, and as the band struck up everyone surged towards the stage. Someone bumped into me, and I staggered to one side, but Alex grabbed me from behind. His arms went protectively around my waist. I felt the tips of his fingers pressing into the curve of my hip bones.

“Are you all right?” His lips were so close to my ear I could feel his breath on my skin. I shivered against him, and his arms tightened around me.

“I'm fine.”

He made no effort to let me go, and I didn't object. Everyone around us seemed to be dancing, so when Alex began to move behind me, I couldn't help responding. His hands splayed across my stomach, drawing me closer so I could feel his body pressing against mine. I'd seen him do this with a dozen girls at Destination, but I closed my eyes and shut out the image, just wanting to be in the moment.

As the set wore on, the beat of the music shook the room. Strobe lights flashed, and the smoke machine pumped out clouds of white mist. The crowd swelled again, swallowing
Jas and Hugh, and crushing Alex and me together, my buttocks grinding against his hips. My T-shirt rose up, and his fingers grazed my bare midriff, making me gasp.

Alex must have felt my reaction, because he bent his head, so his mouth was next to my ear, and said: “Do you want to go outside and cool down?”

I knew what he was really asking, and for a moment I hesitated. There was enough of the sensible part of me left to know exactly what I was getting myself into. I nodded, not trusting myself to speak.

He grabbed my hand and led me out to the little alleyway behind the building, where clubbers came to take a break from the heat and noise. The cold air hit me as we emerged into the night, and it was a relief against my burning skin.

At the back of my mind, I knew this was a bad idea, something I was bound to regret. But I didn't want to think about the consequences. For once, I wanted to act without thinking—to just go for what I wanted, even if it wasn't good for me.

There was just a handful of people outside—a few smokers and a bouncer. But Alex took me round the corner, away from their prying eyes. Then he stopped, and looked down at me, his eyes searching mine. My heart was beating so hard in my chest I was sure he could hear it. I knew that if I was going to object this was the moment. That's what he was waiting for. But instead, I returned his gaze, strong and steady.

He needed no further encouragement. With that, he grabbed me by the shoulders, backed me up against the wall and kissed me.

I felt the urgency of his mouth on mine, the hard weight of his body pushing against me. His hands moved from my shoulders to my face, pulling me closer as his kiss deepened.

The music and noise from inside felt so far away as Alex's lips dropped to my neck and he ran the tip of his tongue along my collarbone.

I couldn't stop myself from letting out a moan, deep in the back of my throat.

The sudden sound of laughter and chatter startled me as a group of clubbers rounded the corner to where we were. Alex continued to kiss me, before breaking away with a groan. He drew his head back so he was staring down at me, and I could see the pure, unguarded lust in his eyes.

I could hear the others giggling as they realised exactly what they'd interrupted.

“Get a room!” one of them called.

Neither of us even bothered to glance in their direction. It was as though they weren't there. I could see Alex struggling to get himself under control. He took two deep breaths, his chest rising and falling, before he finally spoke.

“Do you want to get out of here?” His voice was thick
and gravelly.

I nodded. I didn't even have to think about it.

“Wait here. I'll grab our jackets and tell Hugh and Jas we're heading off.”

His hand swept over my cheek before he went back inside.

I rested my head against the cold brick wall and closed my eyes. I had no idea what I was doing. All I knew was that for once I wanted to do something irresponsible, just for myself.

It was then that I felt my phone vibrate. I pulled it from my jeans pocket, flipped it open, and saw that I had ten missed calls. It took me a second to recognise the number—it was Denise, my sister's foster mother—and I felt a cold sense of foreboding.

I listened to the message with a sense of dawning horror.

“I'm calling to let you know that your sister had to be rushed to hospital earlier this evening. April . . . er . . . fell down the stairs . . . She's broken her arm. But please don't be alarmed. She's back home now, and everything's all right.”

I felt sick as I listened to a message from April, too—she was in tears and begging me to come to see her.

I felt like I was going to be sick. I'd cancelled on April tonight, and she'd ended up hurt. If I'd kept our appointment, this would never have happened. She would have been with
me instead. And then, to make matters worse, when she'd called me I hadn't been there for her. My sister had been frightened and in pain, and here I was, drinking and making out with some charming womaniser who would be no good for me.

It dawned on me then who I'd behaved like tonight—my mother. Bile rose in my throat at the realisation.

I looked at my watch, and realised I was shaking. It was after midnight, but I wanted to see April.

I hurried away from the alleyway, reaching the door just as Alex was on his way back out. He had our jackets under his arm.

He stopped when he saw me. It was like he could tell from the look on my face that something had changed. His brow furrowed.

“What's going on?”

“It's my sister. She's been hurt—” I shook my head. I couldn't deal with explanations. “I need to see her. Right now.” I pushed past Alex.

“Wait a minute. I'll come with you,” he called after me.

That drew me to a halt. I rounded on him. “No!” I was suddenly completely sober. “I don't want you anywhere near me. You've already done enough for one night.”

His eyes narrowed. “What's that supposed to mean?”