Never Again

Part Eighteen

Two days later Jack was appearing on a Saturday morning football magazine show, his team had the second from last game later that day. When he headed to London Friday night, he didn’t invite Erin, and she wasn’t bothered. They’d seen a lot of each other the last two weeks, she was glad of some time to herself. Karen and Tania the two receptionists at work were part of a group going out for a meal that evening, so after checking on Barney, she headed back to the City centre.

The restaurant was an Italian chain, the food predictable, but there was nothing wrong with it. A few of the surgeons had come along and were throwing money around in a very boastful fashion. During her first week in the clinic at least one of them had made gestures and comments that were inappropriate, and now that the alcohol was free flowing Erin was grateful of the two secretaries’ advice and comments helping her through the evening. If only she’d worked here she’d have never trusted Max as well as she had, he was the same as these surgeons, cocky, confident and with the morals of an alley cat. Retrospect was such a wonderful thing!

By half past nine Erin was making her way home, she loved the opportunity to go out, but the little sleep she’d had this week meant she was extremely grateful of the thought of some unadulterated sleep.

When Erin woke the next morning, she’d had a few goodnight texts from Jack, but she’d slept through them. As she ate breakfast she watched him on TV talking about his injury, his thoughts, his prospects. He was as charismatic as ever, and as edgy as he always was, no one was completely comfortable interviewing him as he often threw awkward questions back at the interviewer. Today was no exception, as was usual questions hinted at his bad boy image, but he let them glide over him, all too soon he was talking about the day he met Pele, the greatest footballer ever. How could a TV interviewer compete with that? As usual he ended the show in a confident waft of glory. His recent misdemeanours were starting to fade already.

The rest of the day Erin spent with Barney trying to rehab him in a way a colleague had recommended, one of her friends in London was an animal physiotherapist and they’d had a few email dialogues about Barney’s injury. By early evening she’d located a canine hydrotherapy pool fairly locally, all she needed now was the all clear from the vet.

Sunday  Erin went for run, there was a half marathon coming up in a few months that she’d entered so she had to try and get her training schedule back on track. Then she cooked a beef casserole, it seemed strange to go to so much effort when she was the only one eating. But if she thought like that she’d eat junk food every day. She was just sitting down to it when her phone bleeped. She couldn’t hide the grin when she saw Jack’s name, she’d barely spoken to him all weekend.               

“How was your weekend? Sorry not been in touch, I forget how busy London is! Can we do dinner tomorrow? I know a nice little Mexican?”

All of a sudden Erin realised that she was looking forward to that more than she had anything else. She’d tried to fight the feelings she was having for Jack, but she couldn’t. So she had to go with it, trust him, trust herself, see where things went.

It was dead on seven pm the following day when her doorbell rang. Erin was stood in the bedroom and wanted to scream. How did you dress for a Monday night dinner date?  Her room was a mess, at least eight discarded outfits tossed over the bed and floor, and now he was here. Gathering up armfuls of clothes, she dumped them all in her laundry basket, they weren’t dirty, but she’d deal with them later...all because she anticipated him coming home with her after the meal. Was she becoming a loose woman?

Groaning she glanced in the mirror, she’d settled on simple black dress, and she slipped on a pair of matching heels as she headed for the door. As usual Jack looked impeccable, black jeans coating his legs, a grey sweater that looked made for him and a jacket tossed over one shoulder almost in a catalogue pose.