Bad Boy (Invertary 5)

“I spent a lot of my money on booze, birds [women],

and fast cars—the rest I just squandered.”

George Best, former Manchester United player

Somehow Abby managed to swallow her fury long enough to get through Katy’s nighttime routine of dinner, bath and bed. She smiled and nodded as her daughter ranted on about how rude Flynn was and how ladies shouldn’t be topless in a field. It took all of Abby’s stretched thin self-control to keep her comments to herself. After what seemed like an eternity, Katy was tucked under her Minnie Mouse comforter, cuddling her tatty stuffed giraffe and sleeping. It was time for Abby’s breakdown.

She grabbed a bottle of cheap white wine from the fridge and unscrewed the top. She didn’t bother with a glass. Taking the bottle into the sitting room, she picked up the phone. With a groan at the ceiling, she lay in the dark on her back on the rug in the middle of the floor. She wanted to wail, but the thought of waking Katy stopped her. Propping herself up on her elbow, she gulped down some wine then speed-dialled her best friend. She lay back down while the phone rang in her ear.

“What’s up?” Jena said by way of hello.

Abby was silent for a minute as she stared into the darkness. How did she answer? Maybe calling wasn’t such a hot idea after all.

“Katy?” Jena’s voice softened. “Is that you, baby? You need to remember to talk when you’re on the phone.”

Abby swallowed hard. “It’s me, Jena.”

“Are you okay?” Jena’s voice was instantly alert.

“No.” Abby heard the quaver in her voice. “I stabbed Flynn’s pool to death and threw his stereo out the window.”

There was a pause. “I’ll be right there.” The phone went dead.

Abby clicked it off, lifted her head and gulped down more wine. A field separated Abby’s house from Jena’s newly built home. She wouldn’t take long. Sure enough, a few minutes later the front door crashed open. Jena barrelled into the living room. She was followed by her husband, Matt Donaldson. Abby tried to smile at the man. It was difficult. The last person Abby wanted to see was the town’s only cop—especially as he was also Flynn Boyle’s cousin.

“Oh, honey.” Jena plopped on the floor beside Abby. She held Abby’s hand tight in hers.

Abby cast a nervous glance at Matt, which Jena caught. She nodded towards her huge husband, who was leaning against the doorjamb, perfectly at ease.

“Don’t worry about him,” Jena said. “He’s here in case we need a babysitter. Or in case he needs to arrest Flynn.”

Abby jerked with surprise. “Flynn? Not me?”

Matt barked out a laugh. “Hell no, not you. I’ve known Flynn a lot longer than you have. If there’s trouble, it’s his fault.”

Jena giggled, which made Abby relax, slightly. A tear escaped unexpectedly and ran down the side of her face to settle in her hair.

“I’ll be in the kitchen,” Matt mumbled, before heading off.

Jena brushed the tear from Abby’s cheek. “Now, tell me everything. What do you mean you stabbed a pool?”

Abby took a deep, shuddering breath and told her sordid tale. Jena gasped, laughed and whooped with encouragement. Slowly, Abby began to relax. She sat up and leaned back against the sofa with her legs stretched out on the rug.

“I snapped,” she said. “I couldn’t take any more.” She gave Jena a beseeching look. “I don’t scream. I don’t brandish a knife. I don’t destroy other people’s property. I talk calmly. I show anger with cold words and a chilly attitude. The teachers at my finishing school would turn in their graves.”

“Are they dead?”

Jena’s question took a minute to register. Abby found herself smiling. “They should be.”

Jena grinned as she lifted the wine bottle. It was empty. “Matt. We need more wine.”

There was a grunt from the direction of the kitchen.

Jena settled beside Abby and patted her hand. “It’s a miracle you didn’t lose it before now.”

Abby groaned and let her head fall back onto the cushion behind her. “I made a fool of myself.”

“Nuh-uh, honey. The woman flashing her wares made a fool of herself. You, on the other hand, stood up for yourself.”