If I Fell

~39~

The door slammed and I was awoken from my daydreaming, thrown back into the restroom of the Bag O'Nails, the same girl was now doing the other eye with a thick eyeliner flicking it up at the end.

I stood and moved out of the bathroom and around the darkened room back to the table to see what the troops were up to, maybe to finish that drink John bought before.

No one was there. I scooted in and grabbed the straw lifting it to my lips, drawing up the yumminess, the cold liquid was nice but the shot of alcohol that brought up the rear was strong, having probably settled to the bottom of the fancy glass while I was away.

I grimaced then shrugged, drinking again and looked around the room for Pattie, George, John. Then I saw him, standing over me so close I could count the zipper teeth on his green suede pants, even the bits of fluff on the skin-tight fabric that hugged his thighs.

The lights had been adjusted down moreso now and a dull was over the proceedings. I slowly dragged my eyes up only to have him sidle into the couch beside me, Mick Jagger. My knees touching his, his pant covered leg to my bare one. I felt his hand drift behind and drop almost gingerly to my shoulder. A shudder drove through my body as he skimmed those fingers of his along my skin I gasped and he shushed softly under his breath.

"You're new" was whispered in my ear as he turned his face to mine, nose gently nudging my skin. His breath was tinged with scotch, his lips, that I had thought rather bad in a good way, brushed my earlobe and another shudder ran through me. "What's your name, sweetheart"

"Ab. Abigail" I daren't move, my muscles were tightened and coiled, on high alert for flight but the man had me pinned in to the back of the couch. I would have to shuffle 5 foot to get out the other way from behind the table... or climb over the top of him.

His finger stroked my jaw and he turned my face, kissing me lightly watching my eyes for fear or flare of pleasure. I squeezed them closed tightly and he took it as an assent to continue, stroking a finger over my bottom lip. I tried to stand and knocked into the fixed table. "No"

"It's ok, nothing to fear baby"

"I'm not your baby" I whispered and again struggled to stand and see about the room. That's when I saw the steamroller hauling towards us, his face a mix of upset and anger. Mick pulled me back down onto his lap. John appeared beside us a frown now affixed upon his face.

"Mick"

"Oh hello John"

"Abigail?" John spoke to my downcast face, I was awash with worry. To see his eyes, him thinking I was liking this unwanted fawning of my body. "Abbs?"

"Abigail is fine aren't you love" Micks arm tightened around me, my waist hugged intimately, fingers pointed down, tickling. I shuffled to remove him.

I looked at John as he shook his head, as if to clear the sight. He was going to walk; a mask had descended and I knew by the way his eyes dropped that he was thinking I was actually enjoying this.

"John. I" My words were taken into Micks mouth he had me round in his lap and shoving a tongue down my throat before I could call John back. Fingers trailed up my inner thigh and I clamped my legs together with all my might.

"See, nothing to it" He smirked at his success. Did he just do this to stir John up? He let his hands fall from my waist, from my face, and I gawked at him like a deer in headlights. His nod was all I needed to move.

I shuffled inelegantly the five feet to the outer edge of the couch then dashed to the bar and what felt like a hundred eyes snapped to my face, George twisting round to see who the surprise visitor was "Oh 'ello Abbs, having fun?!"

"No! Where's John?" I almost screamed, my lungs drawing breath as I lurched around him then looked behind me, looked everywhere to catch a glimpse of John.

"Ummmm" George replied unhelpfully.

"He went upstairs to get the car brought round I think" Someone said from beside me, as I found. The source of the reply I realised, of all the ironic people it could be, it was Keith, Micks partner in crime. But maybe not this particular crime.

He wasn't anywhere.

Not up the stairs nor the foyer or near the telephone near the cloak room.

I burst out onto the street and looked all around, up and down the footpaths.

Should I venture further? I went and looked back in the club George and Pattie were there but then Mick was too and I didn't want him near me. I took off back upstairs and outside round the corner to where the car park was.

Darkness descended as I turned towards the back of the building They were many storeys high either side and blocked the moonlight that I knew was there as it was shimmering off some of the buildings' higher windows. The bar was lit at the front but behind, it was dark and damp with chill air settling around me.

"John?" I whispered at first then louder, again and again till I felt the Carnaby Street mannequins would stir awake and ask whatever was the matter.

I gave up and felt my way round through the Rolls Royces and Jags til I found little Missi Mini, yanking on the door handle... he just has to be inside, I hadn't passed him anywhere between here and the street.

"John?" I plead into the city air, the temperature was cool tonight and a faint outline of breath escaped me.

The door wouldn't budge from my incessant pulling at the handle and I felt a prickle of angry worried tears. Was he in the bloody toilet all along and not left the club at all.

I turned towards the dim lights of the street, now so far from the car and turned back again, indecision tinkering with my mind. Standing there, stupidly grasping at the door handle, shaking the living daylights out of it as if by magic it would grant me entry.

A tear or two slipped and I gave up, shaking with the cold and fear of the night I leaned against Paul's Mini, I would just have to wait for John here.

I shivered again, I banged my butt angrily against the side of the car. I just want this over.

I want home, my soft warm bed.

As if by magic the door lock clicked and a push was issued from inside and I screamed in fright.

"Get in Abbs" John wasn't in the toilet or back in the club. He had been witness to my hammering this whole time. "Why are you out here, it's dangerous"

"And the club isn't" I grumbled sarcastically.

I hopped in, closing the door swiftly. We were shroud in darkness. John lit a smoke and I saw his face when the flame flickered for the few seconds the match was alive. He had one of his hands behind his head leaning back and nothing but a thin line for his lips.

"Didn't you have fun?" He drew on the cigarette and I felt like clobbering him.

"You thought I was having fun?!" I whispered yelled incredulously.

Did he really think I was enjoying those snaking arms and that unwanted tongue lashing.

God help me!