Ashley Croft - Love is the Drug

Well, Happy Sodding New Year to her.

Sarah met her at the edge of the dance floor, holding Molly’s coat. ‘Oh God, please tell me that wasn’t what it looked like.’

‘I’m afraid it was. I should have known it was all too good to be true! Ewan Baxter is only interested in one thing and that’s the bottom of a bloody petri dish!’

Sarah draped her coat around her shoulders and squeezed them slightly. ‘Come on, hon, the sooner we get out of here the better.’

‘You’re absolutely right,’ said Molly, as a fresh wave of nausea swept over her. Once outside, the raw cold of a Cambridge winter night took her breath away. The wind gusted up her skirt and sleet blew in their faces as they walked across the faculty car park, Molly’s heels sliding dangerously in the wet slush.

Sarah put her arm around her. ‘It’s for the best you know. Sleeping with your boss is never a great idea. He’s obviously a sociopath. Wouldn’t you rather it had ended now before you woke up in his flat and had to do the walk of shame?’

Molly thought of Ewan, naked except for the kilt, frying bacon at her cooker.

‘No.’

‘OK. Well, it could have been worse. I suppose. If I hadn’t waited to make sure whether you’d pulled Ewan, you might have been going home on the minibus with a bunch of pissed geeks.’

Molly bit her lip and told herself to lighten up. Sarah didn’t need her moaning on a night when she’d had such good news to share. ‘Yeah … thanks, Sarah. I’m sorry if I’ve spent half the evening mooning over Ewan bloody Baxter but it won’t happen again. I’ve learned my lesson … Did you get hold of Niall by the way? I bet you can’t wait to share your news.’ She forced a smile to her face, reminding herself that she was going to be an auntie and how amazing that would be.

Sarah grimaced. ‘No. His phone was off but it is his busiest night of the year and he probably didn’t take a break at all. I just wanted to know he’s OK, with all the drunks – the extra drunks – around tonight. Since one of his colleagues was stabbed in that pub on Christmas Eve, I guess I’m paranoid.’

‘No, you’re just worried but he’ll be OK. Niall knows how to handle himself.’

‘Yeah, you’re right and you never know, when he’s sobered up, Ewan might realise what he’s just missed. He could be on the phone to you in the morning.’

‘Yeah, and I’ve probably won the Nobel Prize.’

Sarah flicked the remote at the car and the sidelights winked. ‘It’s not as if that was your only chance. You’ll be back at work soon and you can be together every day of your life.’

As she was about to climb into Sarah’s Fiesta, an icy blast blew straight down Molly’s cleavage. ‘It’s the scar, isn’t it? It’s the elephant in the room.’

‘Molly,’ Sarah said wearily, the way that Molly remembered their mother doing. ‘You have a teeny tiny scar that is barely noticeable and with the amount of booze Ewan has got down his neck tonight, I doubt he can even find his own balls let alone notice a scar on your face. He’s a tosser who doesn’t deserve another minute’s thought. Now, let’s get you home and into bed.’

‘I know. I know. I wish Ewan could be like Niall.’

‘Ni’s not perfect, not by a long shot.’ Sarah smiled.

‘But he is about to be a daddy.’ Molly reached over and hugged Sarah, desperately trying to fight back the post-party, post-Ewan tears. ‘Phone me in the morning. I’m dying to hear what he says.’

After dropping off Molly at her flat, Sarah drove out of the city towards Fenham. It was bitterly cold, a typical Fenland night. Frost glittered like a trillion rhinestones on the pavements and as her headlights swept over the roadside, the fields glowed blue-white under the moon.

As she negotiated the icy roads, Sarah thought the fens had never looked more beautiful but she also felt guilty for feeling so happy when Molly was so miserable. They’d been like two balloons on the way home: Sarah about to go pop with excitement and Molly shrivelled up with misery and the start of a killer hangover.

Despite how long it had lasted, Sarah hadn’t really taken Molly’s crush on Ewan Baxter too seriously until that evening. Molly had had a lot of crushes over the years, usually short-lived and never very heavy. She’d ignored all the boys at school but had a few flings while she was at university, including one with an English Literature student and another with the captain of the university cricket team. Then there’d been the Australian who’d lasted a year on and off while Molly was studying for her PhD.

Sarah had thought he’d be The One for Molly and they’d shared a house together for a while but he’d gone back to Sydney. Molly had cried for a week but then thrown herself back into her research, landing a post-doc place in the prestigious Baxter lab.

Since then, there had been nothing very serious, although Molly had plenty of offers, Ewan Baxter seemed to have totally captured her imagination and heart. Sarah blew out a breath of frustration as she turned into the road that led through Fenham. She wanted to shake Ewan Baxter and tell him what a total prat he was for upsetting her sister.

She just hoped that Molly would get over her disappointment quickly and realise what an idiot he was and refocus her attention on someone deserving. There was nothing she could do about the situation and besides, Sarah couldn’t be too unhappy for long, not tonight.

She remembered Niall’s final words as he’d called up the stairs. ‘Drive carefully, there’s bound to be all kinds of drunks and dickheads on the roads.’ She didn’t need him to remind her of that, after what had happened to her parents and, besides, she was far more worried about him than herself. She also remembered the sharp tang of his aftershave and the fresh clean smell of his uniform. He always showered before he went out and the moment he got back. No wonder – after New Year’s Eve, he’d probably seen, touched, heard and smelled more bodily fluids than she cared to imagine.

Poor bloke; what a shitty job, literally, he had.

She was glad – and slightly guilty – that her own job couldn’t have been more different. She ran her jewellery-making business from a small cabin at the end of the garden. She and Niall had built it together and while it was modest, it was exactly right for her. When she wasn’t making up commissions for weddings, she ran workshops there where brides and teenagers going to proms could make tiaras and headdresses, and jewellery.

It had been a big risk to give up her safe but boring job at the bank and finally realise her cherished dream to start her own business, but Molly had been spot on. After so many years of acting as surrogate mother as well as big sister to Molly, Sarah had been ready to take a risk. So what if they hadn’t planned things this way, working for herself would fit in better with starting a family.

She parked on the pavement outside and pushed open the little wicket gate in the hedge. The path was icy and she almost slipped on one of the flagstones, which brought a smile to her face. ‘Don’t go arse over tit tonight; I don’t want to be called out to save my gorgeous girlfriend – I may be a bit busy,’ Niall had joked as he’d kissed her goodbye.

The lamp was on in the sitting room, exactly as she’d left it, knowing she’d be back before Niall. She wondered whether to watch a late-night film on TV and curl up on the sofa to wait for him. She certainly didn’t feel sleepy, not after a night on Coke and mineral water, and Niall would be home in a few hours.

She felt a twinge of guilt as she pushed her key in the front door, picturing Molly in bed alone, then told herself that with any luck Mol would be out cold after all the wine. Sarah would call her in the morning and maybe pop round later for a New Year’s Day coffee, with Niall. They could celebrate their news together properly. Molly was going to be an auntie. Comforted by this thought, Sarah pushed open the door and stepped into the hall.