Never Again

Part Four

Erin thought long and hard about how to manage this last action from Jack Reilly. She wasn’t sure what annoyed her most, him paying the bill - after all the accident was his fault, or the fact that he knew her phone number, her name...more about her than was healthy, or safe.

She saw Barney settled in, back in the bed he’d occupied for the last year - the spare sofa in the large farmhouse lounge. Her mother had made dinner, an unexpected treat, and they all sat around the kitchen table. It was a late evening, and she had to be at the train station by half past five the following morning, so she was glad to turn in early, despite the offer of any of the rooms in the house, she took the sofa next to Barney, in case he woke. The sedation was working; he was lethargic and sleepy, just what he needed.

As she was climbing under a duvet on the overstuffed sofa, Erin noticed her phone on the floor beside her. She was still furious, beyond furious at Reilly, she was tempted to text him back, give him a piece of her mind, but that would be foolish, she was too emotional. She’d think of an appropriate response that wasn’t rushed or ridiculous. But it didn’t mean that sleep came easily.

Jack hadn’t slept well, last weekend’s problems were all finally dealt with, Tina was out of his life, he was unscathed, and he should be optimistic, happy even, but he was unsettled, and he wasn’t used to that. He needed sleep to function, and he hadn’t had that. Climbing into the shower, he let the hot water invigorate his face and body, and as he calmed his mind, one image filled it, a dark haired fiery woman with a huge dog.

He’d expected a response after paying the dog’s medical bills, but he’d heard nothing. That disappointed him. With a sigh of frustration he left for training. It was another hard morning; the manager hadn’t fully forgiven them for their lethargy at the last game, so they were given repetitive and mundane training exercises. By lunchtime he was mentally tired. Sitting in the dining room at the training ground, Jack wanted to run out the door for the first time ever.

Josh, a youngster was bragging about his latest conquest, a woman who’d thrown himself at him the night before. Jack knew what it was like, as a footballer, when you walked into a club or bar all the attention flew to you. He’d loved it at first; he’d had his fair share of success in that department. He’d also had more than his fair share of idiots approaching him. He was a target, people showing off, bravado and drunkenness and he’d been in more than one scuffle, and they all ended up on the front page of the tabloids. Jack’s reputation became that of a hard man, and that had helped him on the pitch, but he wasn’t like that really. Saying that it was easier to play along with it than fight it, and until Tina nothing had really gone wrong.

Groaning, he dropped his head to his hands, Tina, and her blackmail. Was it only Friday that he’d had the phone call from his agent that Tina was about to sell photos and stories to a trash paper. They’d managed to limit the damage, but he’d had a real reality check. He’d coasted through life uncaring of the way he treated people, his life was the most important. And by not appreciating that, he’d dismissed Tina from his world carelessly and felt her wrath. The same night he’d almost killed a dog, and it could have been a person, a child. He had to wake up. And now he was wallowing in a pit of self loathing. When had it got so bad?

                “Reilly, what’s up with you?” his best buddy Scott slid on to the seat next to him, “you look like you’re a million miles away!”

Jack smiled, “you’re not far wrong, been a really rough weekend. How’s you?”

Scott Millward had been his best mate in football since they’d been in a youth team together at sixteen; fourteen years had seen them play with and against each other as their careers had rollercoastered around.