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Authors: Angela Peach

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BOOK: Playing My Love
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  "For god's sake
, Ali!  Soon there isn't going to be a later!"

  I stared at him in shock.

  "There is today"  I said.  Then I backed slowly out of the kitchen and went to the hall.  I pulled on a tight red coat, then just walked out.

  I know.  How entirely selfish of me, right?  He was obviously desperate to talk about how he felt and I just blew him off and left him sat on his own with his
pain.  But the truth of it was I didn't know how to communicate with him anymore.  As a child I'd always been pretty introverted, but lately I'd been withdrawing more and more until I'd reached the point I was at now.

  I'd lost the ability to simply converse with my husband.  About anything.  Yes, even the weather!
I'd never been one for small talk.  So although I felt guilty about leaving him alone, I reasoned that it would give me time to prepare for our 'chat' later.

  Plus, for the first time in nine years I really wanted a cigarette.

 

 

  I cried all the way to town, angry at how unfair everything was.  Once there, I choked back the tears and bought enough alcohol for a large party and a pack of ten menthol cigarettes.  I put the drink in the car, then walked through the park for a quiet place to smoke, finally settling on a small clearing with a few benches around the outside.  I sat on one and stretched out my legs, relaxing for the first time since leaving the house.  I hadn't had time to buy any new clothes yet and walking round town always filled me with anxiety.  In London I'd been ignored and had blended in with my designer clothes and styled hair, but here in this small country town I stood out like a great big fat sore thumb.  Today, in my skinny Gucci jeans, knee high boots, and red jacket I felt like a neon flashing thumb!  But I'd kept my head down and tuned my ears out of any floating comments, because last week I'd overheard someone mutter to their friend 'Who does she think
she
is, a celebrity?' and I'd had to leave the shop in abject embarrassment.

  So anyway, as I
lit my cigarette (choking the smoke back because I was determined not to cough like a first timer) I decided that now was the time to review my options.  One in particular that I'd toyed around with, but had put on the back burner to focus on having Gray's baby.

  Suicide.

  A shiver went through me that had nothing to do with the cold April air.  I had no surviving family that would mourn me. I had no idea where my father was, and hadn't for over twenty years, and my mother and sister were both dead.  Jazz, Gray and Chris were quite literally all I had.

  I'd wait
of course, until he went, but then I would do it.  I'd leave this cruel world behind.  I had no faith in anything anymore and to be honest had just simply lost my faith in living.

  I exhaled
the smoke, watching as it curled lazily out of me and thinking how it looked like my soul escaping my body, when movement caught my eye through the haze.  About ten feet away from me on one of the other benches I saw a young, very attractive girl watching me with interest.  She smiled warmly and waved.  Frowning slightly, I turned left and right, but there was no one else around and when I looked back at her, she was tilting her head at me, clearly amused.  Not wishing to be rude I gave a little wave back, and then looked quickly down.  But it was hard to look anywhere except directly in front of me, and I found my eyes flittering back on her every now and then.

  She looked like she was in her early twenties, a music student at the local university I guessed by the guitar case on the bench next to her
.  But she was strikingly attractive and it was this that kept drawing my attention back to her.  Even from this distance I could see the chestnut hair under the hat she was wearing was silky enough to match most models on shampoo adverts, and it fell just below her shoulders.  Her eyes looked a warm friendly brown and they kept glancing at me, catching me studying her.  For some reason, instead of feeling embarrassed I was curious.  Especially when, with a quick friendly smile my way, she took her guitar out of the case.  I finished my cigarette and flicked the stub away, but instead of standing to leave I continued watching her.  Surely it was too cold to play?  My fingers were numb just from being exposed while I smoked.  She must definitely be a student if she was willing to busk in these cold conditions.

  She glanced up at me again, almost as if to check she had my full attention,
and then she launched into a familiar track, her voice reaching me clearly from across the green.

  "Well I guess it would be nice, if I could touch your body, you know not everybody has got a body like you…"

  She sang beautifully and confidently, and when she forgot a word or a line she 'la-da-da'ed it instead, laughing and smiling as she did.  When she got to the chorus, I sat forward.

  "Cos you
gotta have faith, I'm gonna have faith, yes you gotta have faith, faith, faith, I'm gonna have faith, faith, faith, wooo!"  She laughed loudly as she launched into the guitar rift, calling across to me, "Can't remember any of the other words!"

  To my surprise, I found myself smiling broadly at her.  She had such a natural infectious laugh and was obviously enjoying herself.  It was as if she was singing it especially for me, and given my track of thought when she'd arrived, it was almost like a sign from a higher force.  As I watched her strum, I actually felt my heart lift and suddenly the colours around me seemed brighter, the day didn't seem as cold, and I didn't feel like I wanted to die!

  How did she do that?

  I stared at her in amazement.  Without even talking to me, she'd completely altered my mood from depressed and suicidal to hopeful and uplifted.  I
shook my head smiling, then reached for my purse and dug around in it for some money to put in her case.  But all I could find was a twenty pound note.  Well she deserved it, I thought as I made my way stiffly over to her.  She watched me approach, still gently strumming but not singing, and looked puzzled when I threw the note in the case before walking quickly away.  The music stopped so I walked faster.

  "Hey!  Hey, wait a sec?"

  I heard a scramble as she grabbed her stuff and came after me, so I turned and held up my hands.

  "Please, take it?  I don't have change and you were very good"  I said quietly, turning to walk away again, but she stopped me with a gentle hand on my arm.

  "It's very generous of you, but I can't accept this"  she said, smiling and holding the twenty out for me to take.

  "Well, I don't think you'll get much else today.  We're the only two here in the park"  I tried to push her hand back and she glanced down at it confused.  When she looked back up, I could see she was fighting a smile.

  "You don't understand. 
I wasn't busking!  I was singing that for you!" 

  "Oh!" 
So I'd been right after all.  Now
I
was puzzled.  "Why?"

  "Because the words seemed to be, er, q
uite apt"  she admitted sheepishly.

  I gasped slightly.

  "Yes.  They were"  I whispered.  She tilted her head, studying me intently, and her hair moved in a silken wave across her shoulders.

  "Would you like to come and have a coffee with me?  There's a really nice coffee shop a few minutes from here."

  I opened my mouth to refuse, but then I hesitated.  The fact that this mysterious girl had come along when she had, singing what she had for the reasons that she had, maybe there was more to this?  Misunderstanding my hesitation she smiled winningly at me.

  "I'm not taking no for an answer, and it's the only way I'll accept this money so the coffees are on me
.  Come on"  she winked and then walked off, expecting me to follow.

  Which I did.

 

 

  "So what's your name?"  she asked when I caught her up.

  "Alison.  And you?"
  I surprised myself by giving my full name, as I hated being called         

Alison.
  There was a slight pause before she answered.

  "Darcy."

  "Why the hesitation?"  I couldn't help but ask and she glanced sideways at me.

  "I don't know!  Everyone calls me Darcy, but for some reason I was going to tell you my real name"  she said, holding open the gate for me.

  "Okay, so what's your real name?"

  She paused again, shifting her guitar to her other arm.

  "It's Daneka"  she finally said and I mulled it over.

  "How did…"

  "Daneka get shortened to Darcy?  I could practically hear you trying to work it out!"  she said laughing.  We reached the coffee shop and went in, pausing our chat while we ordered our drinks and sat down in a quiet corner.

  "Daneka Marcella Hennessey is my full name, so I just took a bit from each name and got Darcy."

  "Wow!  That's quite a mouthful"  I said.  She sat forward and opened her eyes wide.

  "I know!"  Then she laughed, sitting back and shaking her head at the ridiculousness of her own name.  I found myself laughing with her, unable to stop myself.  But then I realised how long it had been since I'd laughed so spontaneously and it died away, replaced by a small frown and feelings of guilt.  I shouldn't be sat here enjoying myself, not a
fter the crappy way I'd left Gray earlier.  Her hand suddenly reached out and touched mine.  It was soft and warm and felt nice.  Comforting.

  "Alison?  Would you like to talk about it?"

  "Hmm?"

  "I've never seen someone go through so many different facial expressions in the space of twenty seconds before!  It's obvious something is bothering you."

  I looked down at her hand again and sighed.

  "No.  I really don't want to talk about it"  I answered honestly.  She went to remove her hand but I put mine over hers, holding it where it was.  "But it's only because I'm sick of talking about it and I'm actually really enjoying your company.  So please, just talk to me?  Tell me more about yourself"  I looked up and found two brown eye
s gazing at me with such warmth and compassion that it took my breath away.

  "Okay, sure."  She raised her eyebrows comically.  "How long have you got?"

  She was twelve years younger than me at twenty four and had grown up in town, staying because she needed to be near her sick mother.  She was in her last year of studies at the university, but it wasn't music or drama as I'd guessed.  She was studying psychology.

  "Why psychology?"  I asked, and she took a stick of sugar from the centre of the table, fiddling around with it.

  "Well, I want to be a child psychologist."

  "Really?"  I found myself looking at her in a completely different light. 
She was obviously not just a pretty face, but talented, intelligent and compassionate to go with it.

  "Mm-hm.  It's what I've always wanted to be"  she said, tucking her hair nervously behind her ear.  "When I was ten, my dad got cancer and died."

  I stiffened and my mouth dried up.

  "I loved him so much, it just about destroyed me.  At the time I was old enough to know about suicide, but too
young to understand the consequences and ramifications of it in full.  I told my best friend that I was going to kill myself, she told her mum, her mum called mine and my mum called in a child psychologist.  I hated her at first.  Resented her in fact.  But…she saved my life.  She got me through everything, taught me how to channel my emotions through playing the guitar, and I always have a place in my heart for her.  I wanted to help people, children, the way she helped me so I decided that's what I was going to do!  But I wasn't just going to be any old child psychologist, I wanted to be the
best
child psychologist, ever!"

  I think I had almost stopped breathing, especially when she'd mentioned suicide.  The synchronicities surrounding us were insane.  Darcy suddenly noticed how quiet and still I'd become and she shook her head.

  "Oh my god, I'm so sorry!  I wanted to cheer you up and instead I've just offloaded onto you.  I don't even know why I told you all that.  I've always been too embarrassed to tell people why I chose psychology before.  Only a few people know the real story."

  "It's okay.  I really don't mind"  I said, catching her eye so she could see I meant it.  She seemed confused at how easily she'd opened up to me.

  Before either of us could speak again, her mobile rang.

  "One tic"  she said to me before she answered it.  "Hello?  I'm in town at the moment…yeah, I know, sorry babe…um, just having coffee with someone I met in the park
…okay, give me five minutes and I'll be right there."  She hung up and looked at me regretfully.  "Alison, I'm really sorry but I've got to go.  I was supposed to meet my friend fifteen minutes ago, but I lost track of time."

  "That's okay.  I
t was lovely meeting you, Darcy"  I said, feeling sad that our time had come to an end.  She stared at me, her brown eyes bright and intense as she chewed something over.

  "Let me give you my number.  That
way should you ever you know, decide you want to talk, about anything, well you can just give me a call."

BOOK: Playing My Love
11.6Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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