Chapter 47
Chapter forty-seven
“Okay, so where do you want to start?” Matty asked Sloan as they climbed from the car and scanned the car park.
“I have no clue,” Sloan admitted, pulling her sunglasses down from where they’d been holding her hair back. She exhaled and suggested, “Maybe just walk the high street and see if we can spot her?”
Matty walked around the front of the car and stopped in front of Sloan. “Alright,” she said, letting her fingers find Sloan’s and interlock with them. “And remember, she’s a grown woman and she’s allowed to make her own decisions, even if they are potentially dangerous.”
“I’m not a child, Matty.”
“You are. You’re her child, and you’re worried, and that’s understandable.”
“I am worried. I lost my dad, and now...she’s making it difficult.”
Matty squeezed her fingers. “You don’t want to lose her, I know.” She tugged Sloan’s hand. “Come on, let’s find her first. Then later, maybe, we can finish what we started this morning.”
Sloan rolled her eyes. “I’m not in the mood for flirtation right now.”
“Fair point,” Matty said.
Sloan stopped and pulled Matty back. “I’m sorry. That came out wrong. I didn’t mean—”
“I get it,” Matty interjected. Her palm rose to cup Sloan’s cheek. “I get it.”
Sloan nodded. “Okay.”
They walked on, passing shops and people, and occasionally another older person on a scooter, none of it offering any sign of Gloria.
“What if she didn’t come into town?” Sloan said abruptly and let go of her hand. “She could be anywhere.”
“Is there somewhere she used to go? Something she used to do often that she might be missing?”
Sloan puffed out her cheeks and thought until she had a potential answer. “Dancing? With Dad? But that was years ago, and the dancehall isn’t even there anymore.”
“Okay...” Matty looked around and came up with nothing.
“There was a pub they used to frequent. The Frog and something?”
“Duck?” Matty smiled. “That’s round the back from my place.”
Sloan’s face brightened. “I guess it’s worth a try.”
“Come on, I know a shortcut.” Matty took her hand and tugged her along, taking a left into a side street.
A brisk, ten-minute walk brought them to the door of the old pub. It looked as though it'd had a makeover recently, with fresh paint and a huge board out front reading: Welcome one and all—Denise & Del.
“Look,” Matty said, pointing down the other side of the building. A bright, shiny scooter was parked up, its rider nowhere in sight. “That looks very much like the one Gloria has.”
Sloan pushed the door open and stepped inside, just in time to hear raucous laughter coming from one end of the bar.
She scanned the room. When she couldn’t see her mother, she just followed the sound of that familiar cackle. Gloria was sitting on a barstool. Two men younger than Sloan stood either side of her, laughing at whatever Gloria had just said to them.
One of the men glanced past Gloria and spotted them. He smiled and waved. “Matty!”
“Oh, God,” Matty murmured.
Sloan turned with narrowed eyes, a silent question on her face. Then recognition hit her. She’d seen him before at Matty’s flat—the druggie!
Gloria twisted on the stool and it spun her around. “Oh, crap.” She slumped. “Oh, well, that’s my fun over with.” She looked at Brandon. “Help us get down, young man.”
“Mother,” Sloan said it firmly, then sighed. “I’ll have a Diet Coke. Matty?”
Matty’s eyebrows shot up. So did Gloria’s. Brandon looked between them all and decided he was better off waiting.
“I’ll have...an orange juice?”
“The least you could have done was invite us,” Sloan said to Gloria, stepping closer to the bar. She stopped and stared at Brandon until he moved and made room for her.
Gloria remained looking shocked, but her mouth was already in action, remarking, “Assumed you were busy with this one.” As she pointed over her shoulder with her thumb at Matty.
Sloan held Gloria’s gaze in the mirror as she said, “I was.” She smiled as the woman behind the bar came closer. “Diet Coke and an orange juice, please.” She turned back to Gloria. “And I’ll be busy again later, when we go home.”
One of Brandon’s friends started to make a comment but stopped dead when the hard stare moved onto him.
“I’d think long and hard before you open your mouth,” Sloan said icily. “I’m not as friendly as my mother appears to be.”
***
With their drinks finished, Sloan ushered Gloria and Matty outside. “Can you drive?”
“As in, do I have a licence, or can I drive for you?”
“Both?”
Matty grinned. The Saab wasn’t a car she’d ever thought she’d get the chance to take for a spin. “I do, and I can.”
Sloan handed Matty her car keys, then hesitated. "Be careful with her. She was my dad's." She paused then added, "I'll have to put you to the insurance at some point."
“You’re really going to let me drive your car?”
Sloan nodded. “Yes. I’ll walk back with this one.”
Matty looked at Gloria, who tutted and rolled her eyes.
“I’m not an imbecile,” she muttered, but neither Sloan nor Matty took any notice.
“Drunk and disorderly and in charge of a scooter. I’m not letting her loose on her own,” she told Matty.
“I am not drunk,” Gloria said, her face pulling into a horrified look at the implication. “I’ve had three beers and—”
“And?” Sloan asked.
Gloria looked away. “Nothing.”
Sloan let it drop and was about to lean in and kiss Matty’s cheek when the pub doors opened again, Brandon and his mates filing out.
“See you later, Glo,” Brandon shouted. “You know where to find me.”
Gloria gave a quick wave before putting the key into the scooter and starting it up. “Race ya,” she taunted, cackling.
“Give me strength,” Sloan muttered. “I’ll see you back at the house, Matty.” And then she turned and chased after Gloria.
Matty tossed the keys in her hand and then glanced over at Brandon and his mates, all standing around, lighting up joints and passing them around.
“She’s a card, ain’t she?” Brandon shouted towards Matty.
Matty smiled and walked away. She didn’t dare imagine why Gloria might need to find him.
***
Sloan caught up, trotting alongside Gloria, who kept the speed just high enough Sloan had to jog.
Sloan called, breathless, “Mother, slow down.”
Gloria cackled and kept going.
“It’ll do you good. Keep you nice and fit so you can keep up with the hippie.”
“I can keep up just fine, thank you,” Sloan countered. “And she isn’t a hippie.”
“If you say so,” Gloria called out.
Sloan was about to argue when an idea formed. Before she even had a chance to risk assess whether it was safe or not, Sloan saw her chance when Gloria slowed for a lamppost.
Sloan thought, ‘Fuck it,’ and hopped on. She gripped the back of the seat, feet leaving the ground as she swung herself onto the back.
“Ere, what are you playing at?” Gloria grumbled before speeding up.
“Doing what you keep telling me to do.” Sloan leaned in, close to Gloria’s ear. “Having fun.”
“Well, it’s about time, Sloan,” Gloria said, before twisting the accelerator and taking the scooter up to its maximum eight miles an hour.
***
Matty opened the car door, sliding into the seat that was usually Sloan’s. She’d learned to drive years ago and had owned a car for most of her adult life, until the divorce. Now skates were her fastest mode of transport.
The Saab was something else entirely—luxury that gave a small peek into a world she’d never inhabited before now.
She adjusted the seat and mirrors and started the engine, listening as it purred into life, the steering wheel smooth beneath her palms. Switching on the radio, she put it in gear and pulled away.
As she drove, she tried to take in what the day had turned into. It had started in such an intimate, casual way, yet there was nothing casual about the way Sloan Slater had made love to her that morning. It was strange to think how far she’d come—literally. She sniggered at her own joke.
She barely knew Sloan and Gloria, and here she was, being trusted with everything—with caring for Gloria, with being in Sloan’s home, and now, driving her car when she wasn’t even on the insurance yet.
Did it mean everything she hoped it might? Was it all too much, too soon?
She shook off the doubt. It wasn’t like her to fall into that trap. “Trust the process,” she said to herself as a song she knew came on the radio. She turned up the volume and put on her indicator.
Scanning the road ahead, she searched for Sloan and Gloria, and when her eyes finally landed on them, she almost gasped, then laughed out loud.
“Well, look at you, Sloan Slater.” She grinned at the spontaneous behaviour of her lover and her lover’s mother, who held her stick out like a knight on a steed, ready to joust.
Matty tapped the horn as she drove past and waved out of the window. Gloria sped along, with Sloan hanging on to the back, wind in her hair like she was having the time of her life.