Kiss the Tiger (11 page)

Chapter Twenty

By the time I arrived back, all
evidence that anyone else had been sharing my hotel room had vanished, although
it did look like a burglar had paid me a visit, and for the first time, I
noticed the stinking sweat smell that hung in the air. Over the past few days,
I’d been so focussed on Josh that I hadn’t cared about the state of my belongings—and
I cared even less now.

It took all of five minutes for
me to pack. I pulled what was left of my clean clothes off their hangers and stuffed
them into my case on top of dirty ones, without bothering to fold them. More
soiled items, retrieved from the floor, followed. Then I scooped everything off
the edge of the dressing table with my arm. Make-up, perfume, hairspray, the
whole lot landed in the suitcase with a clatter. I collected my toothbrush from
the bathroom, fastened the case, picked it and my shoulder bag up, and left
without a backward glance, arriving in reception with ten minutes to spare.

The faces that met me were a
mixture of disappointment and disgust.

“Where the hell have you been?
I’ve been out of my mind with worry,” Mum yelled.

Dumping my case on the tarmac, I
sat on its top and chewed on my fingernails. “Sorry.”

“I thought you were going to miss
the plane.”

I’d seriously considered it. If
only I could stay a while longer, catch a later flight, I’d have been able to
speak to Josh. But what if what Jacko had said were true? What if Josh had been
using me in some sick one-upmanship way?

“You’ve… You’ve been crying. Are
you hurt?” I shrivelled under Mum’s scrutiny.

“No. I’m fine. It’s nothing.”

Nessie sniggered. Let her gloat.
She couldn’t possibly make me feel any worse than I already did.

“Quite clearly, it’s something.
What’s going on?” Mum persisted.

My head shot up. “Not now, Mum.”

She let out a heavy sigh and
turned away.

Nessie glugged at the contents of
a water bottle. I was so thirsty. I hadn’t had a drink since my small mouthful
of juice at breakfast, and my mouth was as dry as Ghandi’s flip-flop. “Can I
have a sip of that?” She looked down her nose and tipped the remaining contents
down her throat.
Bitch
.

***

It was dark when I eventually
crawled into my bed. I wanted to fall asleep and never wake up. The dull,
endless ache in my stomach refused to leave. In one week, my life had changed
from a girl who was part of a happy family, secure in my ambitions for the
future, to dysfunctional chaos. My father had gone, my mother was a stressed
out mess, my sister hated me, and I’d lost the only boy I’d ever loved. What
was the point in anything?

Pain twisted my chest, when I
thought about Josh, and I couldn’t stop thinking about Josh, but relief from my
suffering was to be denied. Jet lag hadn’t kicked in and sleep remained absent.
A gnawing feeling ate away inside me and wouldn’t allow me to believe it was
over. Jacko’s words grated on my mind. They didn’t make sense. I might not have
had any experience with relationships, but the past twelve months had taught me
plenty about guys. Unless Josh was a really good actor, he loved me. I was sure
of it.

I stared at the flyer. I’d
entered the number into my mobile phone but had yet to press the button. Not
wishing to set myself up for more heartbreak, I’d re-enacted different
conversation scenarios in my head until all that remained was jumbled up
clutter, and now I’d left it too long. It was late, and Josh would probably be
asleep. I finally entered dreamland with renewed determination to call him in
the morning.

As soon as I awoke, my nightmare situation
came flooding back. I reached for my phone and hit call before I could change
my mind.

“Hello. Is that Reta? It’s Amy.
Can I speak to Josh, please?”

The line crackled and broke up,
but I heard her say, “He’s not here.” Then there was a click and the line went
dead. Had she hung up on me? So much for friendly Greeks. I had to be certain. I
hit redial and her voice fed through the receiver once more.

“Reta, it’s me, Amy. I think we
got cut off. If I could just leave my number with you, do you think you could
ask Josh to call me when he gets back?”

“I told you, he isn’t here.”

“I know, but…” The line went dead
again. What a cow. How hard was it to take a number? I let out a frustrated
sigh and discarded my phone in disgust. If I couldn’t get through to him he’d
think I wasn’t interested. Maybe I’d have more luck later.

I dressed laboriously. Even putting
on my favourite jeans, that I’d truly missed wearing, didn’t help my mood. And
I didn’t bother with make-up; I wasn’t aiming to please anybody. I’d told Cindy
we’d meet up as soon as I got home, but I didn’t feel like talking to her.
She’d want to know every detail, and I couldn’t bear to relive the happiness
I’d lost. I sent her a quick text to say I was home but very tired and would
speak tomorrow. Moments later, she sent one back.

Fine by me. Seeing my new guy,
today, anyway. Will compare notes tomorrow. You’d better have something juicy
to spill
.

I planned on being ill tomorrow.
Something contagious should buy me some more time. But right now, I needed something
to take my mind off Josh. I’d be damned if I was going to sit around moping in
my bedroom until my next call, so I tore the list of required supplies from my
pin board and stuffed it into my bag.

Mum and Nessie were in the
kitchen. Silence descended as I entered the room. I didn’t care. I wasn’t in
the mood for conversation. My bus wasn’t for another fifteen minutes, so I had
time for a quick coffee before making my way to the stop. Two pairs of eyes
followed my movements as I filled the kettle and measured grains into my mug.

“Ready to tell me what’s wrong
yet?” Mum asked.

“No.” I answered shortly, waiting
for the kettle to boil. “I’m going into town to get some stuff for uni.”

“I see,” Mum said, eying me
hesitantly.

At least someone was actually
talking to me. I’d had my doubts whether anyone would again. Throughout our
journey home, no one had uttered a word to me. Our separated seats on the plane
hadn’t helped. In the beginning, I’d been grateful for the chance to be alone, but
then a family with three raucous children cocooned me against the window and
proceeded to try to outdo each other with the
who could shout the loudest
and make the most trips to the bathroom
game. In a way I’d have almost
preferred Mum’s badgering and Nessie’s silent treatment. Instead, I plugged my
ears with my headphones and they’d remained in place until I walked through the
front door.

I blew on my drink and sipped at
it.

“Why don’t you go along too,
Vanessa? Perhaps you can work on whatever seems to be the problem between the
pair of you.”

“Can’t. I’m meeting Jess.”

Great excuse, Ness
.

“Jess can wait. Your sister is
more important.”

Nessie nudged me out of the way
to put her bowl in the dishwasher. “She’s got her shit and I’ve got mine. Leave
it, Mum.”

“Watch your language, Vanessa. I
will not have this hostility in my house. I have my own problems to deal with.”

“Yes. Why don’t
you
work
on that?” I said, speaking before thinking.

Mum opened her mouth to reply,
but Diane chose that moment to burst through the back door with a smile far too
cheery for our gathering. “Morning campers. Happy to be home? Ooo, I’ll take a
coffee, if you’re offering. I didn’t sleep too well last night. I guess I have
to get used to my own bed again.” She perched on a breakfast bar stool and
looked around, her smile fading quickly. “Have I come at a bad time?”

“Not at all,” I said, placing a
steaming cup in front of her. “Mum was just about to tell us what she is going
to do about Dad.”

“You know full well that wasn’t
what we were discussing, Amy.”

“I could always ask Alec if he’d
give you your old job back,” Diane said. “I know he still holds a soft spot for
you. Every time you pop in to say hello, he’s always full of questions like
whether you’ve made the right decision and how your marriage is going.”

Mum frowned. “I am not going back
to work for that letch.” Her phone vibrated on the shiny surface of the table,
and she picked it up.

“I don’t see too many options for
you. It isn’t as if you’ve any other experience. Mmm, this is good coffee, Amy.
Do
you
need a job? We could do with somebody with your talents.” She
smiled at me before returning her attention to Mum. “Something wrong, Cora? Who
was that?”

“John. I’m meeting him tonight.”

***

My shopping trip was a waste of
time. I tried to pull myself together to concentrate on the job in hand, and although
I managed to pick up a few items of stationery and a couple of textbooks, it
was pointless. Everywhere I went, loved up couples were holding hands,
whispering in each others’ ears, and, for God’s sake, kissing, each one of them
making it impossible to wipe Josh from my mind. It was unbearable for me to
watch. I called at a juice bar for a smoothie, and decided I couldn’t wait any
longer to phone the bar.

This time, Jacko answered.

“It’s Amy. Is Josh there?”

“No.”

It had been five hours since my
last contact. How could he still be out? “When will he be back?”

“Never, I hope.”

I struggled to hear him over the
background music. “Excuse me?”

“He’s gone.”

“Gone? Gone where?” I shouted,
drawing irritated stares from the other diners.

“Back to Manchester.”

He’d come home?
I lowered
my voice. “Why?”

“Fucked if I know.”

“What flight is he on?”

“I’m not his keeper.”

“When did he leave?”

“First thing this morning.”

“Did he say anything about me?”

“Nope.”

“He just left without a word?”

“Yep. Look, I gotta go.” The familiar
long beep rang in my ear.

Why would Josh have left in such
a hurry? Had they had another fight? No, Jacko would have said, wouldn’t he?
Maybe, it was it the job Josh had mentioned, or maybe he’d come to find me?
Please
let it be the last one
. Perhaps I could beat him to it. I drained the dregs
from my glass and began searching the internet. Five minutes later, I’d found a
possible flight arrival. It was a long shot but still a chance, and it was about
to land.

Collecting up my bags, I rushed
out of the shopping centre and hailed a taxi. The plane was due in ten minutes,
and even allowing for baggage collection, I was cutting it fine. The taxi
travelled frustratingly slowly. I tapped my fingers on the seat impatiently,
waiting for a tortoise with a limp to overtake us.

“Can you not go a bit faster?” I
asked the driver.

He frowned at me through the
rear-view mirror. “You gonna pay the ticket, love?”

I rooted in my purse, pulled out
a note, and held it out. “I’ll tip you a twenty.”

He reached over his shoulder and
snatched it. “Works for me.”

The tyres screeched to a halt
outside arrivals. People were hurriedly filing through the doors, pulling their
jackets tighter against the chill of the English summer. I pushed past them,
scanning faces in desperation, twisting my neck in so many different directions
I almost got whiplash, but it was no use. I couldn’t see Josh anywhere. I’d let
myself get my hopes up for nothing. As the last of the crowd dispersed, I collapsed
on a bench and peered up at the flight information board, trying to focus.
Nothing originating from Greece was mentioned for the next couple of hours, and
I wasn’t about to hang around like a hobo until then. There had to be another
way to find him. Feeling deflated, I zombie walked back outside to the taxi
rank and caught a ride home.

Chapter Twenty-One

My mood had darkened to an all
time low. It was as if the gods were tormenting me, offering me a lifeline
before whipping it away again. Knowing Josh was out there, close, but
unobtainable, was more than I could bear.

“Did you get what you needed?”
Mum was placing a vase of flowers on the sideboard in the lounge when I entered
the house.

I headed for the stairs. “No.”

“Can you sort yourself out for
dinner? I was going to put a casserole in, but Vanessa is eating at Jess’s, and
I have to get ready.”

“Sure,” I shouted down from the
landing, before shutting my door against any further conversation. The thought
of food made me dry heave. I turned on my laptop and typed
Joshua Jackson
into search. Surely he must have some form of social network profile that would
offer a clue to his whereabouts.

Almost two hours, and one hundred
and seven Joshua Jacksons, later, I gave up. Even the profiles without photos
sounded nothing like him, and reading about all the different men’s lives made
me feel like a stalker. I drew my knees up, wrapping my arms around them,
needing comfort, and tried to think. There had to be another way to find
my
Josh. I needed a pick-me-up to kick start my brain cells, so I ambled down to
the kitchen for a drink, deep in thought. Mum entered as I was hitting my
second glass of wine.

“Is that my Chablis?” she asked
with a note of annoyance.

“I needed a drink.”

“I was saving that.”

“I’ll buy you another bottle,” I
said, placing the cork back in the neck.

Mum removed it again and
retrieved a glass from the overhead cupboard. “I think I’ll join you. I’m a
little nervous. Do I look okay?” she asked.

Clothed in a plain, black dress,
with pearls adorning her ears and throat, and her blonde hair in a classy
chignon, she was the picture of elegance. “You always look great, Mum,” I said
with little enthusiasm.

“Do you want to come with me?”

And play gooseberry all evening?
“Why would I do that?”

“I thought you might like to see
your father.”

“Well I don’t.” Mum might be
ready to forgive but I wasn’t.

“I’m sure he’d like to see you.”

“I’m not in the mood.”

Her lips pursed together with
irritation, then sprang open. “Why not?”

“I’m just not, okay.”

“Amy, this isn’t like you.”

“I’m fine.”

“Don’t lie to me.”

“I just want to be left alone.”

“Why? What is it, Amy? What’s
wrong?”

“Nothing. Just leave it, will
you? Why do you keep pushing it?”

“I’m only being a concerned
mother.”

“Well don’t bother. I can sort my
own life out. You go sort yours.”

Mum flinched and I could tell she
was holding back another reprimand. “I’m really anxious about meeting your
father. I have no idea what I’m going to say. I was hoping for some moral
support.”

“I’ve got my own problems.”

“Are you pregnant?”

My face crumpled with disbelief
and I shook my head incredulously. Why did she always assume the worst of me?
“No.”

“What then?”

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Well I do. I’m fed up of the
atmosphere in the house. All the animosity between you and Nessie is beginning
to get on my nerves.”

“And we must preserve your
nerves, mustn’t we, Mum?”

“Don’t take that attitude with me,
young lady. I have a lot to deal with at the moment, and I can do without
adding your petty squabbles to the list.”

“Oh, give me a break and stop
whining.”

“I’m telling you now. Sort it
out.”

“Or what, Mum, what will you do?
Ground me? I’m nineteen. I’m an adult.”

“Perhaps you could try acting
like one.”

“I am. I’m acting just like you.
Focussing on my own problems and not giving a shit about anyone else’s.”

“That’s unfair. I’m trying, but
you’re not being honest with me. What am I supposed to do?”

“Enjoy your meal.”

A car horn sounded, and Mum
grabbed her clutch from the table. As she was about to leave, she turned. “I
just want everything to get back to normal. Talk to Nessie, please.”

After she left, I let out a
relieved breath and my temper calmed. I knew I was being a complete bitch to
Mum, but there was no point explaining; she’d never understand. Her
relationship with Dad had been her only serious one, and she’d never… Shit. Was
losing someone after twenty years any less heartache than losing them after a
few days? The wine warmed my stomach and mellowed my mood. I was such a dumb
cow. Mum wasn’t the only one who wanted things back the way they were. Tears
welled and threatened to spill over.

The front door banged and the
sound of footsteps ascended the stairway. Nessie’s muffled voice filtered
through the ceiling. I stared up at the spotlights. She was giggling and I
itched to know what about. I missed my sister. Losing her friendship was like
losing part of me, and it was all my fault. I should have been honest with her
from the start. Mum was right. I had to fix it.

I bounded up the stairs, two at a
time, closed Nessie’s door behind me, and leaned against it. “Time to talk.”

She was lying on her bed holding
her phone to her ear. She paused her conversation and afforded me a steely
stare. “Not interested.”

“Get interested.”

A cushion flew at my head,
missing it by inches. “Get out!”

“No. You’re listening to me
whether you want to or not.”

She returned her focus to her
phone. “It’s my two-faced bitch of a sister. I’ll call you back.” Her finger
pressed against the keyboard, and she threw the handset on the bed. “What don’t
you get about my not being interested?”

“I don’t care.”

“Are you still talking?”

“Yeah, and I want to talk about…”
I hesitated, almost saying Josh. “J.J.”

“I bet you do.” Her words were
spaced and sinister.

“Ever wondered about his name, J.J.?”

“Nope.”

“They’re initials.”

“Duh. I’m not that stupid.”

“What if I told you they stood
for Joshua Jackson?”

“And?”

“Are you sure you’re not stupid?
I’ll give you a minute to let the moths settle in your brain, and while you’re
chewing it over, add the fact that Adam’s nickname is Jacko.”

Nessie’s brow furrowed for a
second, then her jaw dropped as light dawned. “No.”

“Yes.”

“But how…?” Her expression
hardened. “And you never said.”

“Don’t you think I tried? I
tried, Ness, I really did.”

“Not hard enough. How could you
let me keep going on about him?”

“When I first saw him, I was so
shocked I didn’t know what to do.”

“How about the right thing?”

“I thought I was. You were so set
on him; I knew I had to let you have your chance.”

She sat up and braced her hands
on the top of the duvet. “What if it had worked out? What then? How long would
you have waited to say something, until we were totally in love, our wedding
day, when?”

“That wouldn’t have happened.”

“No, because you stole him and started
seeing him behind my back. Sisters don’t do that.” The air between us was
tainted by her malice.

“I didn’t steal him. He was never
yours.”

“You made me look a fool.”

“I’m sorry. I know you liked
him.”

“Yeah, I did.

“Forgive me?” I watched her curl
a lock of hair around her finger as she digested my words.

“You should have told me.”

“I know. But I never thought it
would go anywhere, and then things kinda got out of control.”

“I’ll say.”

“I thought you’d move on.”

A small smile softened her face,
and I saw my friend re-emerge. “I have moved on.”

“You have?”

“Yeah.” She swung her legs to the
floor and patted the bed beside her. “I really like Garrett. Do you think I
have a chance?”

 “Garrett? Josh’s mate?” I accepted
her offer of a seat, my legs suddenly weak. “What happened?” I asked, with hope
beating wildly in my chest.

“Let’s just say that I finally
got my holiday wish.”

“You slept with him? Wow.”

“And he gave me this.” She shook
her wrist in front of my face, dangling from it was a diamond encrusted
bracelet.

“When did he buy you that?”

“He didn’t buy it. He won it in
the casino. It fell out of one of the coin games.”

I fingered the gold loop
dubiously. “Is it real?”

“Of course it’s real. They
wouldn’t put fake stuff in a posh joint like that.”

I angled my head and grinned
mischievously. “So what’s he like in the sack?”

“I could ask you the same about J.J.
I-I mean, Josh.”

“I don’t remember saying we got
it on.”

“Sorry, I just presumed…”

I didn’t want to talk about being
with Josh. Relaying to Ness how it felt when I was with him, the way he kissed me,
the way he tasted, the way his final grunt echoed in my head when I remembered
our one night together, made my stomach fill with knots of longing. “We never
even said goodbye.”

She breathed in deeply. “Explains
your mood. You’ve spoken since though, right?”

I shook my head, tight-lipped. “I
can’t get hold of him.”

“That sucks,” Nessie said, laying
a hand on mine.

“Are you still in touch with Garrett?”
I asked hopefully.
Please say yes. He may know how to contact Josh.

“Not exactly, but I should see
him on Tuesday.” She reached over to her bedside table before waggling a bunch
of paper in front of my nose. “Feast your eyeballs on these babies.”

The paper stopped moving long
enough for me to read Finnegan’s Fist. “Tickets?”

Nessie beamed. “And backstage passes,
no less. Want to come?”

Did I ever?
“Fuck yeah.
Try stopping me.”