The Edge of Sanity Read Free Page B

have to have it right now, Kayla? You could show a little consideration, you know? I have the Boat Safety Officer coming in …’ He’d checked his watch. ‘ Hell , ten minutes.’
    Kayla had shuffled and mumbled, while Daniel clattered the breakfast things into the dishwasher. ‘The cash dispenser’s in Worcester,’ he had pointed out impatiently. ‘Not inside my wallet, Kayla. So unless you’ve any bright ideas as to how I’m supposed to get there and back before you leave for—’
    ‘It’s not my fault we don’t have a car!’ she had blurted.
    And Daniel’s shoulders had stiffened. He’d turned slowly around, a tic playing at the corner of his mouth, which Kayla knew to be a small but significant sign. He was well-annoyed.
    She had stepped back, wishing she could backtrack. She had touched a raw nerve. She shouldn’t have said that and she was sorry, but … They weren’t the only ones hurting around there. ‘I need to go to the chemist!’ she had shouted defiantly, standing her ground, her jaw tight-set and her eyes threatening to spill over.
    Daniel scanned her face, his anger turning to frustration as the penny apparently dropped. ‘Oh,’ he had said quietly. ‘Why didn’t you say so?’
    ‘I just did,’ she had mumbled to her shoes.
    ‘I’m sorry, Kayla.’ He’d moved towards her then, placing an arm around her shoulders, for all of two seconds.
    Yep, she was too old for all that touchy feely stuff now, obviously. Who needed it anyway? Consigning the memory to history, as her dad was obviously content to consign her, Kayla ferreted through her make up bag, then upended the contents onto the breakfast table.
    Raking her spiralled curls from her face, she checked her sleepers and nose stud, and then carefully applied two coats of lash-lengthening mascara. Being only fifteen presented no probs when it came to getting into Strobes. She would pass for sixteen at a glance. With the assistance of Urban Decay, her new shoes, and a padded plunge bra, eighteen was easily attainable.
    ‘Uh, oh.’ She checked her watch, scooped her face back into her bag, and then reached for a quick corner of toast.
    ‘Oh, gross!’ She flicked at the wasp happily breakfasting on her breakfast, which buzzed frantically around the kitchen, then homed in on the jam jar.
    Patiently, Kayla waited whilst it ventured from the rim of the jar to the fruit of its labours. Then, ‘Ta, ta,’ she said, and slammed the lid tight.

Chapter Two
    Charlie stumbled to the bathroom, trying to fight off the overwhelming urge to throw up. He failed, just short of the toilet.
    ‘Shit!’ He skirted around the after-pub curry to stuff his face under the tap.
    Thirst satiated, he dragged a hand across his mouth and admired himself in the mirror. ‘You are one good-looking bastard.’ He winked, waggled pierced eyebrows, and then winced.
    ‘Oh, man, man, man … my head, ’ he moaned, zigzagging up the hall, back to the bedroom. He’d got well-wasted last night, so high he was floating, but now, he had come way down low. Charlie prided himself on not doing drugs before breakfast, but he needed a buzz, and fast. This morning-after stuff was seriously depressing him. He padded across the bedroom and stopped short of the bed. What the hell was she doing in it?
    Oh, man, he must have been wasted. She was one ugly slapper. If Rachel found out, she’d go totally ballistic. But then, she wasn’t about to find out, was she? Not now she’d gone home to Mummy. And that sour-faced old cow wouldn’t let him within fifty miles of Rachel, the state she was in when she went.
    Like it was his fault about the baby … and everything. None of it would have happened if Rachel would just keep her trap shut and stop slagging him off, looking down on him, like he wasn’t good enough. Just like her bloody mother did.
    Just like they all did.
    He cared about her. He had said so. Said he would stick with her, didn’t he? What more did she want? Why