King of Hearts
Page 68
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“Is it okay if I get a glass of water?” I asked.
King shrugged.
“Would you like one?”
Another shrug. If the way he was sweating was anything to go by, though, he must have been thirsty. I filled two glasses and walked over to where he was sitting on the couch before handing him one. He took it and downed a long gulp. There was nowhere else to sit, so I took the place beside him, a few inches between us.
“Alexis, do you…do you know how my mother is, where she is?” he asked, and he sounded so vulnerable right then it made my heart squeeze.
“Yes, of course,” I hurried to answer. “She lives close to me now. I have a house in Waltham Forest. Your mum sold her place in Bloomsbury and bought a small cottage nearby. We grew close after what happened, became friends. You should see her these days, King. She goes out for walks all by herself, shops for her own groceries, she even….” I caught myself just in time. I’d been about to tell him, She even takes care of Oliver when I’m working. I needed to be better at censoring myself around him, at least for a while.
When I looked at him, he seemed conflicted, yet hopeful. The world suddenly wasn’t as shrouded in black clouds as he’d thought. “So she’s doing well, doing better?”
“She had a lot of help, Oliver. Me and my parents, we sort of took her in after…I mean, she still misses you every day, mourns for you, wonders where you are. We both do…we both did.”
He went quiet, like he was dealing with some kind of inner turmoil. I cleared my throat and did my best to change the subject. “I started my own business a couple of years ago. It’s a plus-size modelling agency. Only a small one, but it’s doing well so far. I have a tiny two-room office space in Finsbury Park,” I said, a little self-deprecatingly. “It was like, I saw how all these agencies worked and kept thinking to myself, I can do this with my eyes closed. And I always remembered you telling me I could do anything, go anywhere, that I had the ability. Your faith in me was where my confidence to go it alone came from.”
I could see that my words meant a lot to him. “Thank you,” he murmured. “Thank you for saying that.”
“Thank you for showing me I could be more than just an East End barmaid,” I said with a tiny smile, feeling more emotional all of a sudden. “If I hadn’t met you, I’m not sure I ever would have gotten out of that shithole tower block.”
“You would have.” He stared at the glass in his hands, now empty.
“Want another?” I asked, gesturing to it.
He didn’t answer, just handed it to me.
I went to the sink to refill it, then walked back to the couch. King had grown even paler, and he looked like he might want to get sick. He also seemed uncomfortable, like he didn’t want me there to witness it. I set the glass down on the table and picked up my bag, making a show of looking at my watch.
“Well, I have a few errands to run while I’m in the city, but I’d like to come back later, if it’s all right with you?” I said quietly.
It took him a second to respond as he swallowed thickly. “Yes, yes, it’s all right.”
“Good,” I said, feeling awkward. “I’ll see you later, then.”
He didn’t reply, only nodded. I hitched my bag up on my shoulder and made my way out of the camper. The sun beat down on me, making me feel a little woozy. I walked out of the circus and down a side street to where I’d parked my car. Once I was safely inside, I let my head fall back and exhaled. I hated this. I hated that I had to leave him there to suffer all alone, but I didn’t want him to feel weak in front of me. I knew he’d be humiliated if I saw him being sick.
Once I’d calmed down, I picked up my phone and dialled the house. Karla answered after a couple of rings, and I spent a few minutes talking to her, asking how Oliver was doing. She was good at not prying into how my day had been, and that’s what I needed right then. I needed to not talk about King, because if I did, I’d just end up having another crying jag.
We hung up, and I got out of the car. Taking a walk to a nearby café, I got something to eat, barely even noticing what I ordered since my mind was so elsewhere. I sat outside for a long time, nursing a lukewarm cup of coffee and wondering how on earth this was all going to pan out. I’d been gone about three hours when I finally made my way back to the circus. I went to Marina’s camper first, but there was no one there, so I headed in the direction of the gazebo from last night. There were a whole bunch of people milling about, some eating meals, some chatting.
I spotted Jay, Jack, Matilda, and Lille at a table having dinner, and King was sitting by the end of it, drinking a beer. The sight of him with alcohol did a number on me, and my heart somersaulted in my chest. Why on earth were they letting him drink?
Eighteen
I took a few steps forward until I was standing by the table. It was Jack who spotted me first, and he must have seen where my eyes were trained, as he started to explain gruffly, “He can’t go cold turkey. It’ll kill him. The beer is light, good for weaning him off the hard stuff.”
“Oh,” I whispered, suddenly understanding.
“Yeah, remember what happened to that Amy Winehouse?” Matilda piped in. “Such a sad story.”
There was an empty stool beside King, but I hovered, unsure if I was welcome. I locked eyes with Jay, and he shot me a look that said, Stop being an idiot and sit. So I walked around the table and sat. I could feel that King was aware of my presence, but he didn’t say anything. Didn’t look. I wondered what he was thinking, wondered if he was still coming to terms with everything I’d told him earlier. Tendrils of unspoken words hung between us. The others chatted a little, but an awkward atmosphere had descended upon the group, and I knew it was down to my arrival. That was why I did what I often did and tried to fill the silence with my own chatter, faking that I was comfortable when really I was the exact opposite.
King shrugged.
“Would you like one?”
Another shrug. If the way he was sweating was anything to go by, though, he must have been thirsty. I filled two glasses and walked over to where he was sitting on the couch before handing him one. He took it and downed a long gulp. There was nowhere else to sit, so I took the place beside him, a few inches between us.
“Alexis, do you…do you know how my mother is, where she is?” he asked, and he sounded so vulnerable right then it made my heart squeeze.
“Yes, of course,” I hurried to answer. “She lives close to me now. I have a house in Waltham Forest. Your mum sold her place in Bloomsbury and bought a small cottage nearby. We grew close after what happened, became friends. You should see her these days, King. She goes out for walks all by herself, shops for her own groceries, she even….” I caught myself just in time. I’d been about to tell him, She even takes care of Oliver when I’m working. I needed to be better at censoring myself around him, at least for a while.
When I looked at him, he seemed conflicted, yet hopeful. The world suddenly wasn’t as shrouded in black clouds as he’d thought. “So she’s doing well, doing better?”
“She had a lot of help, Oliver. Me and my parents, we sort of took her in after…I mean, she still misses you every day, mourns for you, wonders where you are. We both do…we both did.”
He went quiet, like he was dealing with some kind of inner turmoil. I cleared my throat and did my best to change the subject. “I started my own business a couple of years ago. It’s a plus-size modelling agency. Only a small one, but it’s doing well so far. I have a tiny two-room office space in Finsbury Park,” I said, a little self-deprecatingly. “It was like, I saw how all these agencies worked and kept thinking to myself, I can do this with my eyes closed. And I always remembered you telling me I could do anything, go anywhere, that I had the ability. Your faith in me was where my confidence to go it alone came from.”
I could see that my words meant a lot to him. “Thank you,” he murmured. “Thank you for saying that.”
“Thank you for showing me I could be more than just an East End barmaid,” I said with a tiny smile, feeling more emotional all of a sudden. “If I hadn’t met you, I’m not sure I ever would have gotten out of that shithole tower block.”
“You would have.” He stared at the glass in his hands, now empty.
“Want another?” I asked, gesturing to it.
He didn’t answer, just handed it to me.
I went to the sink to refill it, then walked back to the couch. King had grown even paler, and he looked like he might want to get sick. He also seemed uncomfortable, like he didn’t want me there to witness it. I set the glass down on the table and picked up my bag, making a show of looking at my watch.
“Well, I have a few errands to run while I’m in the city, but I’d like to come back later, if it’s all right with you?” I said quietly.
It took him a second to respond as he swallowed thickly. “Yes, yes, it’s all right.”
“Good,” I said, feeling awkward. “I’ll see you later, then.”
He didn’t reply, only nodded. I hitched my bag up on my shoulder and made my way out of the camper. The sun beat down on me, making me feel a little woozy. I walked out of the circus and down a side street to where I’d parked my car. Once I was safely inside, I let my head fall back and exhaled. I hated this. I hated that I had to leave him there to suffer all alone, but I didn’t want him to feel weak in front of me. I knew he’d be humiliated if I saw him being sick.
Once I’d calmed down, I picked up my phone and dialled the house. Karla answered after a couple of rings, and I spent a few minutes talking to her, asking how Oliver was doing. She was good at not prying into how my day had been, and that’s what I needed right then. I needed to not talk about King, because if I did, I’d just end up having another crying jag.
We hung up, and I got out of the car. Taking a walk to a nearby café, I got something to eat, barely even noticing what I ordered since my mind was so elsewhere. I sat outside for a long time, nursing a lukewarm cup of coffee and wondering how on earth this was all going to pan out. I’d been gone about three hours when I finally made my way back to the circus. I went to Marina’s camper first, but there was no one there, so I headed in the direction of the gazebo from last night. There were a whole bunch of people milling about, some eating meals, some chatting.
I spotted Jay, Jack, Matilda, and Lille at a table having dinner, and King was sitting by the end of it, drinking a beer. The sight of him with alcohol did a number on me, and my heart somersaulted in my chest. Why on earth were they letting him drink?
Eighteen
I took a few steps forward until I was standing by the table. It was Jack who spotted me first, and he must have seen where my eyes were trained, as he started to explain gruffly, “He can’t go cold turkey. It’ll kill him. The beer is light, good for weaning him off the hard stuff.”
“Oh,” I whispered, suddenly understanding.
“Yeah, remember what happened to that Amy Winehouse?” Matilda piped in. “Such a sad story.”
There was an empty stool beside King, but I hovered, unsure if I was welcome. I locked eyes with Jay, and he shot me a look that said, Stop being an idiot and sit. So I walked around the table and sat. I could feel that King was aware of my presence, but he didn’t say anything. Didn’t look. I wondered what he was thinking, wondered if he was still coming to terms with everything I’d told him earlier. Tendrils of unspoken words hung between us. The others chatted a little, but an awkward atmosphere had descended upon the group, and I knew it was down to my arrival. That was why I did what I often did and tried to fill the silence with my own chatter, faking that I was comfortable when really I was the exact opposite.
