Just for the Rush. Jane Lark

change. But I’m changing. So I’m going. I’m leaving you. Don’t bother calling – and find a lawyer. I want a divorce.’

      I took a room at the Hilton, left my car and my things there, then caught a tube back and got my motorbike out of the underground car park and rode that over to the Hilton too. Then I started looking on the Internet for somewhere new to live and rang Em.

      ‘Hi. Sorry to interrupt your Sunday, but I wanted to warn you, I won’t be in tomorrow. Can you run the meeting and tell everyone I’m off because Sharon and I have split? I’m going to get somewhere else to live. I want to do some viewings and then I’ll be back in.’

      ‘You split up?’

      ‘Yes, and do not say I told you so, or thank God, or anything. We split up because I discovered I have a daughter, a seven-year-old daughter.’

      ‘Oh my God. You—’

      ‘Say nothing.’

      ‘Saying nothing. I’ll see you on Tuesday, with any luck. I hope it goes okay. If you need me, call.’

      ‘Cheers, Em.’

      I sat on the sofa in the hotel room and scrolled down through the pages of apartments. I’d done it. I was making a new start.

      At one o’clock I called Victoria. ‘Hi, it’s Jack.’

      ‘I know, your number’s in my phone.’

      ‘Can I speak to her? Daisy. Have you said anything?’

      ‘We’re eating, Jack.’

      ‘Shall I call back, then?’

      ‘No. I’ll call you later.’

      ‘Do.’

      ‘I said I would, Jack.’

      It was two hours later when she called. I grabbed my phone. ‘Hi.’

      ‘Hi.’

      My heart pounded like the bass rhythm from a speaker in a club. ‘Is she there? Is she with you?’

      ‘Yes.’ Victoria sounded nervous. ‘Daisy, do you want to speak to him still? His name is Jack, remember.’

      Victoria’s voice had become more distant at the end of the sentence, as if she held the phone out, then I heard some short, sharp breaths. She was there. ‘Hi. Daisy?’

      ‘Hello.’

      Tears clouded my vision. ‘Hello. It’s nice to talk to you.’ What did I say?

      ‘Mummy said she met you at the party she went to.’

      ‘Yes, she did. I’ve only just discovered you, Daisy. I’d like to come and see you sometime.’ Sometime soon.

      She took a breath. ‘Mummy said your eyes are like mine.’

      ‘Yes.’

      ‘I want to go and play again.’ The sound dropped away.

      ‘Sorry, she has about as much patience as you did.’

      It felt like something had been ripped away from me. ‘When can I see her?’

      ‘Jack, don’t start pressuring me. It’s not only Daisy who needs to get used to this, it’s my husband too, and I’m not risking my marriage for you. Take it easy.’

      ‘You can’t dangle her in front of me and then say no.’

      ‘I’m not doing that. Please don’t start being awkward.’

      ‘Wanting to see my daughter is not being awkward.’ I was tired and desperate and falling to pieces. ‘But I will play it how you want to play it.’

      John would fight my case. In the meantime I needed to do everything right, and if I was lucky, maybe by Christmas, I would have a daughter to spend that day with. That would be something. That was a goal worth aiming for.

       Chapter 2

      Today, December 24th

      When I got out of Jack’s car, he said, ‘I’ll see you later.’

      I looked back at him. He was leaning on the passenger seat, while his other hand still gripped the steering wheel. ‘Yeah, see you later.’

      He smiled as I shut the door.

      Shit. I must be mad. This was a stupid thing to do. When he drove off, I lifted a hand and stood there like an idiot, waving at him. A big guy was walking down the street. He looked at me. I turned to climb the steps up to the front door then glanced over my shoulder to take one final look at Jack’s car as it turned the corner. The stranger caught my eye, smiled at me like he was laughing at me, then pulled his beanie hat lower and carried on walking.

      I keyed in the code to get into the house and up to my flat, my heart playing out a manic dance rhythm. I was excited and terrified all at once.

      I’d never done anything crazy before.

      My hands shook as I packed, while the adrenaline dripped out of my blood, the excitement draining out and leaving the nervousness behind. I didn’t put a lot in my case. I didn’t need clothes for staying in bed for a week—having naughty, nasty, sex.

      The words gave me shivers. I heard them in Jack’s voice and I felt them in naughty places.

      The buzzer on the intercom sounded.

      I answered, ‘Hi.’

      ‘Are you ready?’

      I looked back at the case on my bed. I’d shove some heels in and my black dress, then… ‘Yes.’

      ‘Do you want me to come up and carry your case?’

      ‘Oo, you’re such a gentleman when you’re not talking about sex. No. I’ll manage. I’ll meet you outside.’ My heart bounced against my ribcage, partly excitedly and partly terrified. The adrenaline was kicking back in now I’d heard his voice.

      This was so random. When I’d woken up this morning I’d imagined spending a week in my pyjamas, streaming constant films so I could avoid all the C-word specials, with Ben and Jerry’s on tap.

      ‘You’re being stupid,’ Rick’s voice said in my head, with a sharp note of warning.

      I squeezed my favourite high-heeled shoes into the backpack I had my makeup and toiletries in, grabbed my dress out of the wardrobe and lay it on top of my clothes in the case, then closed the lid. There. Ready. I was done. I was going. Doing this.

      I smiled as I left my room and let the door slam shut behind me. But then I turned around and pushed it to check it had shut. In the way Rick would have done. It had shut.

      I smiled again as I walked downstairs. I hadn’t left Rick to spend the rest of my life in an attic flat for one. And I didn’t want to begin breeding cats to fight the loneliness. I’d turned the opportunity of life with Rick down because I wanted to do different things. Exciting things. To live in the moment. To feel my heart race. I wanted to be one of the fast-living, uncaring, naughty people – like Jack.

      When I opened the downstairs front door, Jack was leaning with his bum against his F-Type Coupe, his keys in his hand. He was wearing the same black trousers and shoes, but he’d swapped his duffle coat for a waist-length leather jacket.

      He shifted into movement when he saw me and came over to take the case out of my hand, with one of those tummy-flipping smiles.

      ‘I was half-expecting a text calling it all off.’

      ‘Why?’

      ‘I thought you might go cold on the idea.’

      ‘No. Still hot.’ I followed him down the steps.