Eight
Molly’s phone was ringing. She was looking at it in something close to terror. It was Ashley.
Was she going to let it ring off? No, she couldn’t do that. She refused to analyse why she couldn’t. She did a small scream and then picked up the phone.
‘Hi,’ she answered breezily.
‘Hi,’ Ashley replied.
Five Years Ago
The grotty pub toilet door swung slowly open. And Molly saw Ashley Malone for the first time in person.
She was striking in an undone sort of way.
Her pale blonde hair fell around her face, looking naturally cool rather than messy.
Even under the harsh toilet light, her fair skin was flawless, sitting atop high cheekbones and a narrow face.
She looked Molly’s age, about twenty-five, with a slight frame, full heart-shaped lips and dark, penetrating eyes.
Even in faded jeans and a basic white T-shirt, she had serious sex appeal.
Molly knew instantly she was done for.
‘Oh,’ Ashley exclaimed, meeting Molly’s eyes.
‘What?’ Molly asked.
‘Nothing,’ Ashley said quickly. But she kept looking at her in that slightly delayed way people did when their brain was catching up to what they’d expected to see.
‘No, what?’ Molly pressed.
‘I better get to the gig,’ she said hurriedly.
‘You’re doing it?’ Molly asked.
‘Might as well,’ Ashley said with a shrug. ‘Since I’m here.’
Molly nodded. ‘Oh. Cool.’
‘Enjoy your pee.’
Molly stared at her for a second, lost. Then her body remembered itself. How on earth had she forgotten she was desperate?
‘Right,’ Molly said, backing away slightly to allow Ashley space to vacate the stall. ‘Yeah. Pee time.’
‘Thought you were busting,’ Ashley said, not immediately moving.
‘Yes, totally,’ Molly said.
There followed a silence that involved a lot more eye contact than either of them seemed prepared to handle.
‘I’ll see you out there then?’ Ashley asked.
‘You surely will.’
Ashley left, and Molly hurried into the cubicle to release the contents of her impatient bladder. As the hot liquid hit the bowl, she felt quite certain she was going to make a fool of herself tonight.