Chapter 36

Marcus stepped up to the little desk at the door with a nervous smile, greeting the waiter who turned to them with a quick nod.

"Uh... table for two. Bowers." He gabbled, quickly. The waiter looked down at the list, and Shawna laid a hand on his arm

"It's OK, Marcus." She assured him, whispering in his ear. "Calm down..."

"Yeah, sorry..." he muttered back, managing a tight smile. "I asked for a table in a corner, so we should be alright once we're sat down."

"This way, please." The waiter picked up a pair of menus and started to lead them around the dance floor.

"So... how will you manage when we get out there?" Shawna asked, squeezing his hand, gently.

"I'll have someone to hold on to." They sat at their table, which was in a slightly dim corner, and the waiter left them to their selections.

"You know, this is a bit more classy than any date I've been on before." Shawna looked around, taking in the décor and the people around them. "Do you reckon there's anyone in here under forty apart from us?"

"I don't know." Marcus admitted, with a shrug. "I wasn't looking at them."

"Who were you looking at then?" she turned back to him with a smile, leaning on the table. "Me?"

"Couldn't take my eyes off you." He admitted, then paused. "Well, except while we were walking around the tables, of course, I didn't want to fall over anything." Shawna's smile just spread a little further.

"You were so close there, you really were." She took his hand. "Thank you for this."

"Thank you for coming."

"This means a lot to you, doesn't it?" He nodded. "Why?"

"I... I'm not sure..."

"Would you like anything to drink?" They both stopped, snatching up their menus with a shared smile, and began their dining experience. The meal was excellent, Shawna had a little wine, and they danced gently, at ease in the midst of the small number of other couples that got up. Some obviously came often, and knew the band well enough to request songs.

One old couple cut in, separating them briefly for a dance, and then joking gently about their eagerness to get back together. Sooner than either of them expected the band were packing up, and the patrons were beginning to leave, disgorging the pair of them into the slight chill of the night.

"That was... that was great." Shawna enthused, slipping her arm through his as they turned away towards home. "I've not had th..." She tensed, stopping, and Marcus turned to look back at her.

"What? What is it?" she was pale, wide-eyed, jaw trembling gently and he thought she was about to faint. "Princess?"

"It's him!" she hissed, nails digging into his arm as she squeezed.

"Who?" he turned, but no-one stood out.

"Connor." She nodded towards the queue outside of a club across the street.

"That's OK." He assured, her, slightly bemused. "He hasn't seen us, and he's not going to do anything, anyway."

"But... it's..." tears sprang up in her eyes, and Marcus stepped in a little closer, wrapping his arms around her gently. "We can walk the other way, along the river, if you'd like." She nodded, once, sharply, still edgy, and he turned her gently away, eyeing Connor and his date in the line. The river path was dark, poorly-lit, and strewn with old fast-food wrappers and broken bottles, but they picked their way carefully along the slightly submerged fold in the landscape, listening to the water rippling slowly below.

"I'm... I'm sorry." Shawna finally sniffled, resting her head on his shoulder as the path opened up briefly into a swing-park.

"For what?" Marcus kissed the top of her head, gently. "Its... I don't understand what's going on, but I'm not holding it against you. You know that, don't you?"

"I know. I didn't mean to spoil the evening."

"You didn't. If anything has, it was him."

"He just went and stood in line for a club." She pointed out. "Can't hold that against him."

"He just carried on his life like nothing's happened." Marcus pointed out. "I thought you'd gotten over this."

"Sorry to disappoint you!" she snapped.

"It... I..." He stopped, a little surprised.

"Sorry... it's not you. It caught up with me, I wasn't expecting to see him there."

"I... you've dealt with it so well up until now."

"Now I've let you down." She sniffled again, and he turned her gently to face him.

"No, you haven't. Handling it as well as you have up until now... I'd be proud of you if it didn't sound patronising." She chuckled through the tears.

"It doesn't... thank you." She buried her head in his chest and cried gently until the tears ran out.

Hope walked past the door twice, chickening out, before she got up the courage to actually stop and knock. Stood there, hand at the ready, she started three times, not quite making contact with the woodwork, and then when she finally did she bottled and turned to hurry away.

"Knock-door-run?" Hope drew up short, two steps into her run, with Corrine staring down at her. "Did you want me or not?"

"Um... not sure." Hope finally ventured. Corrine held up a bottle of wine and a bottle of vodka, one in each hand.

"Come in and drown whatever it is? I could use the company."

"What's up?"

"Aiden's gotten a date for the weekend, and I don't." she shrugged.

"What's going on there?"

"Do I need to spell it out for you?"

"I don't mean tonight..." Corrine past her the bottles as she fumbled her key into the lock, and Hope realised this wasn't the start of the tall girl's evening. "Well, I do, but not like that. What's with you and Aiden."

"We both said we weren't ready to settle down to anything — it's university, it's time to go out and have fun, play the field, you know." The door eased shut behind them, and Corrine flopped down on the bed, dragging the vodka out of Hope's hand as she did.

"Well, that was middle of last term. He's still happy with that..."

"You're not?"

"I don't know. I haven't had a date this week at all..." She spun the cap off the bottle and let it fall to the floor. "I can't make out whether it's just bad luck or if I've not really been trying."

"Do you have any glasses?" Hope held up the wine, getting a raised eyebrow in response.

"It's a £1.99 chateau von cheap." She pointed out, wincing as another mouthful of vodka made its way down. "Drink from the bottle." Shrugging her compliance, Hope stripped the foil top off to find a screw-top which joined its partner on the floor, and dropped onto the end of the bed, mindful of Corrine's long legs jutting from her shortish skirt.

"So, what brings you to see me?" Corrine forced herself up onto her elbows, bunching her pillow up agains the headboard to support her. "Not like we hang in the same groups much."

"Everyone else was always taken." Hope replied, sucking down another mouthful of the surprpisingly sharp wine. "I don't drink red very often, are they all like this?"

"No, some are OK." Corrine explained. "Always taken? You mean already taken?"

"Same thing." Hope mumbled, swigging again. "Hope comes around, everyone's either off with someone else, or they just don't want Hope."

"Well, you're welcome to swig away for the rest of the evening here." The pair drank quietly in companionable silence for a while, until Hope realised she'd reached the end of the bottle.

"You know..." she decided, "you know why I came up here?"

"No." Corrine asked. "I asked, but it didn't make much sense."

"I was... I don't know. Lonely."

"You shouldn't drink." Corrine decided. "You're a maudlin drunk."

"I don't drink much." Hope admitted.

"So we know why I'm lonely." Corrine pointed out. "Aiden and fucking Tina Bovis."

"Little mousy blonde thing?"

"That's the one." Corrine nodded. "Why are you lonely?"

"Don't know." Hope admitted. "Really don't know."

"Well, who do you want to be around?"

"That's the one..." Hope waved with the empty bottle. "Everyone I want is with someone already."

"I know the feeling." Corrine muttered. "The guy I want is off with someone already." Tentatively, gently, Hope reached out and laid it on her thigh.

Corrine's leg tensed beneath the hand, but she didn't say anything, and Hope took a deep breath and slid her hand a little higher.

"I'll give you the benefit of the doubt," Corrine's voice was pitched quiet, "and assume you're more drunk than I thought you were... don't go there." Hope froze, the fog in her head clearing slightly as adrenaline surged in embarressment.

"You're straight, aren't you?" she managed.

"As a ruler."

"Shit. I'm sorry... I..."

"What the hell made you try that?"

"I... Marcus said... shit."

"Marcus told you I swung both ways?" Corrine struggled to try and get off the bed past Hope's dejected form.

"He said Shawna told him she'd been with you."

"I'll be having fucking words with them."

"I'm sorry..." Hope's small voice devolved into tears, and Corrine paced back and forth, swigging from the vodka bottle, fuming late into the night.

Marcus opened the door gently, ushering Shawna in, and hurriedly closing the door against the world, turning to find her stood in the middle of the floor, hunch-shouldered and shivering gently. He stepped up behind her to hug her gently, and she flinched away, turning to face him with a look of apology.

"Can I get you anything?" he managed, breaking the awkward silence. She shook her head, gently, shifting away to press her back against the wall. "I don't know what to do, Princess." He admitted, after a while, folding his jacket over the back of a chair, and finally stripping his tie off. "What?"

"What?"

"You're staring at me." He pointed out.

"What are... why... your tie."

"Yeah."

"What are you doing?"

"I'm taking it off, it's been tight all night. You know... oh! No, Princess no, I didn't. Oh shit, I'm sorry."

"It's OK." She whispered. "I just want to go to bed, I think."

"Ok... oh shit. Hang on, please."

"What?" she watched him dash across to their room, slipping inside and returning with something shoved behind his back. "What's that?"

"Doesn't matter." He assured her, with a patently false slight smile.

"Marcus?"

"It's... a rose." He brought it out, holding it gently, flipping it onto the coffee-table. "I... I didn't want you to think I was taking you for granted or anything. I had a DVD ready, and I checked to make sure all the cards were in the deck in the kitchen and the scrabble set was... was ready..." he tailed off, slowly.

"You had expectations though, didn't you?" He flinched, and stared back at her for a moment.

"Hopes, Princess, but not expectations." He tried to assure her. "I..."

"I believe you." She whispered. "I'm just going to go to bed."

"I'll turn the duvet down." He nodded, and she paused, swallowing hard, unable to look at him.

"I... I think I'd rather be on my own." She pointed to the back room, and disappeared into the bathroom. The tear-streaked face in the mirror seemed a million miles from the happy smile she'd put lipstick on earlier that evening, now riddled with guilt and revulsion. Fists clenched, she couldn't muster the enthusiasm to smash the image away, sinking into instead, seeing the wretched wasted whore she'd become. The thought of someone touching her made her skin crawl and her stomach churn, but because she knew what would be going through his mind, what he'd be seeing; what he'd be imagining and she'd be remembering.

"Princess..." Marcus whispered, quietly, from outside the door.

"I'll be out in a minute." She assured him, and heard him pad gently away. Taking the opportunity she darted out the door — thankful to get away from the mirror — and pushed the bedroom door closed behind her. He'd been in, she saw, and made the bed for her, brought in her nightwear, turned down the bed, and put in a hot-water bottle and the little rose on the pillow.

"Oh, Marcus..." she whimpered, leaning back on the door as the tears sprang up again. "I'm sorry..."

"It's OK, Princess." She jumped, realising he was outside the door.

"What do you want, Marcus?" she asked, hating herself as she did.

"Absolutely nothing." He replied, quietly. "I'm just going to wait here if you need anything."

"I'm going to sleep, Marcus." She told him.

"Fine."

"You don't have to do this."

"I want to."

"Why?"

"Because... because I know what it's like to need to keep people away, sometimes, and I know how hard it can be to change your mind and suddenly need someone. I can't help with anything else right now, but I can make that bit easier. I can be here when you need me."

She couldn't answer through the tears, and slipped out of the green dress, crying harder at the lacy pink underwear she'd worn for him, balling it up and hurling it at the window. Dragging the fleece pyjamas on that he'd laid out for her, she threw herself onto the bed, dragging the duvet over her head.

Despite the hot-water bottle, she found herself shivering, pulling the pillow tight into her stomach to try and quell the hollow feeling there.

From outside the door she heard the first, quiet, gentle notes of Marcus' guitar start up, strumming quietly away to her as she waited for the tears to end and sleep to release her from the interminable evening.