Time After Time (3 page)

Mmmmh

Ellen coughed loudly.

Hayley opened her eyes and blushed. ‘Don’t look at me like that. I’m not the one planning my husband’s funeral.’ She looked away. ‘I’m not wishing my life away or anything. Honest I’m not. Really. I’m
not
.’

‘Sure. But you
are
romanticising your relationship with Sean. You were only together for a bit when the shit hit the fan. You’d never be as happy as you are with Rick.’

‘Was,’ Hayley muttered before she could stop herself.

‘You still love him, don’t you? Surely you don’t regret marrying him. Rick and the kids are the best thing that ever happened to you.’

‘Of course I love him. And the kids. Of course I do.’ Hayley forced a laugh. ‘I’m tired and a bit pissed. And pissed off. Must be the booze talking.’

‘So have you ever tried to find out what happened to them? Your exes, I mean.’

‘God no. What for?’ Hayley said.

Only on Facebook and LinkedIn and Instagram.

There hadn’t been much. Apparently she’d either gone out with blokes who thought social media was the devil incarnate or their privacy settings were so stringent, it would have been easier to break into the Tower of London. She looked at her watch. ‘Two o’clock. How did that happen? I need to get my sorry arse home. I’ll have some water and call a taxi.’

Rick snored gently when Hayley slipped into bed. She lay there for a while, her eyes getting heavier and her breath slowing. As sleep gradually took over her body, her mind continued to wander.

What if?

There was no harm in imagining what her life could be like.

Was there?

It was her way of escaping reality and routine.

Wasn’t it?

Everybody sometimes wondered ‘what if?’

Didn’t they?

‘Chris?’ Hayley repeated as she got up from the floor slowly, all the while staring at the guy in the bed two feet away. ‘What the …’

She watched as he opened his eyes even further to give her an incredulous stare. ‘And who else would it be? Let me sleep or get me a cuppa.’

It
is
him. It’s Chris. Chris Jenkins. But how? When?

An older Chris, definitely, but he still had thick, dark hair. From what Hayley could make out in the dimly lit room, his face had aged and he’d put on some weight around the middle, but he hadn’t lost his striking looks. Perhaps they were even better than when she’d last seen him. Her eyes travelled over his chest and she swallowed.

What’s going on?

She relaxed for a second.

Hah! Bad dream. Nightmare.

Her hollow laugh filled the room and Chris furrowed his brow.

Any second I’ll be back at home, in my bed, next to Rick. Any second now …

Nothing happened, so she pinched her hand.

‘Ouch.’

You don’t feel pain in dreams.

‘I need a piss.’ Chris got out of bed and Hayley recoiled, hitting the chest of drawers with her bum.

Argh! He’s stark bollock naked.

He gave his left bum cheek a good scratch as he walked out of the room, his semi-flaccid penis bobbing along in front of him.

At that point Hayley looked down at herself. ‘God!’ Her hands instinctively flew up to cover her breasts.

Chris Jenkins saw me in the buff! IN THE BUFF!

In an attempt to hold on to the last shreds of her dignity, Hayley grabbed a black satin dressing gown hanging on the back of the bedroom door and flung it on, wrapping it tightly around her body.

Where am I? What am I doing here? Where’s Rick? The kids?

Hayley opened the bedroom door, stuck her head out and looked left and right, surveying the enemy territory. Then it hit her. Mrs. Jenkins’ house in Ealing.

How? What? Christ!

She’d been there countless times when she and Chris dated, and she immediately recognised the hall and the door on her left that led to another bedroom. Chris had disappeared into the bathroom Hayley remembered was on the right, so she rushed down the narrow staircase, instinctively avoiding the third step from the top because it creaked. She half expected Chris’ mother to appear, demanding Hayley explain her presence
immediately
. It would have been a difficult thing to do.

Clothes! Where are my clothes? My bag? What the fuck am I doing here?

Hayley charged into the kitchen. For a second, she felt a rush of vertigo. The cabinets had her favourite maple facings and the walls the exact off-white of her own kitchen. At first glance, it looked a bit like her house in Chiswick. Her eyes travelled round the room and came to rest on a Union Jack teapot displayed in one of the glass-fronted cabinets. It stopped her cold.

Her mum had given her a limited edition teapot exactly like it on her eighteenth birthday. Two days later Hayley had dropped the lid. You could still see the join where she’d clumsily glued it back together. She walked over to the cabinet and peered at the teapot, her eyes seeing the uneven edges of the do-it-yourself job, her brain trying to understand the implications.

It’s mine. But mine’s at home. Does Chris have one too? With the same break in it?

Hayley rubbed her head again.

That can’t be right. But I didn’t give him my teapot.

She blinked quickly half a dozen times.

Let’s replay this.

She remembered leaving Ellen’s the night before. Recalled paying the driver when he pulled up in front of her house. She was sure she remembered going to bed at home. Almost sure. Blood drained from her face and a shiver travelled down her spine inch by inch. Then it went all the way back up again.

Surely I didn’t ask the driver to take me to Chris’ place? I’m not that stupid. Am I?

She hadn’t even known that he still lived here and yet, somehow, she’d ended up in his house, with him upstairs. Naked. Unclothed. Birthday suited.

She fumbled around for a chair to steady herself and her stomach turned.

Oh fucking hell, no. I’ve cheated on Rick!

What Genius lacked in class and style it certainly made up for in fun, and in 1988 it was one of the coolest clubs in Ealing. Located in the basement of a Victorian property on one of the main streets, it hosted alcohol-free discos every Saturday afternoon from one o’clock until five o’clock. The under twenties came in their droves to dance, pose and pretend they were grown-ups, and this Saturday in October was no exception.

When Hayley and Ellen arrived they were greeted by the thick air, already full of the smell of sweat. A machine in the corner blew out a steady
pffffffft
of smoke that mixed with the strobe lights and made funky spider web patterns on the walls. Thirty or so bodies moved on the dance floor at the centre of the room to Kylie Minogue’s ‘I Should Be So Lucky’. Hayley hated the song – she felt as if it had been written about her love-life. Or lack of it.

They dumped their coats in the make-shift cloakroom at the bottom of the stairs and got a couple of fizzy drinks from the bar.

Hayley looked at Ellen, dressed in a black and green rah-rah skirt, red tank top and stilettos. She’d topped off her look with twenty bangles on each arm and a couple of long, multi-coloured necklaces. Her thick, blonde hair was bunched up and tied together with a bow, à la Madonna meets The Bangles. The flawless make-up – smoky eyes, big pink lips – accentuated her cheek bones and perfected her pout.

Hayley wished she looked as good.

Fat chance.

She’d planned on wearing her white drainpipe trousers, but, in typical Hapless Hayley fashion, she’d dropped her mascara, which had left a huge black splodge behind that no amount of rubbing, blotting or praying to the God of Rimmel would ever remove.

‘I look like sodding Minnie Mouse with these white boots and black trousers,’ Hayley shouted over the music. ‘And my stupid hair. I look like a sheep. If a farmer walks in he’ll pull out the shears.’

‘The boots are great, the trousers fine and your hair’s not frizzy,’ Ellen said.

‘Really?’ Hayley touched the bird’s nest on top of her head.

‘Really. Everyone’s getting perms these days and you don’t have to. And your skin’s looking much better too. You look ace.’

Hayley managed a smile. Being called Zitty Pimpleson at school hadn’t helped her confidence, and trying to be the smartest one in the class had backfired.

Good move, Hayley. They still call you Spotty Swotty.

She shrugged. ‘Thanks, but it doesn’t matter. Nobody’s going to notice me anyway.’

‘Will you stop it? There are tons of boys here. You never know. You might meet the love of your life today.’

‘Hah. Love of my life? Yeah, right. But speaking of… is he here yet?’

‘Who?’

Hayley grinned. ‘Oh give over. You know exactly –’

‘Wotcha!’ A head popped up between their shoulders and Hayley felt an arm being draped over her shoulder. ‘Great to see you both. How are you?’

‘Oh, hi Mark,’ Ellen said and flicked her hair. ‘We’re cool.’

Hayley could tell the aloofness was as genuine as the Ray-Bans she’d bought at the market for three quid. Mark was the reason why Ellen insisted on going back to Genius in the first place.

‘He’s nineteen,’ Ellen had gushed last week after she’d danced with him for over an hour. ‘Only two years older than us. He’s studying finance at university.
And
he plays guitar in a rock band called The Bruised Bananas. He’s so
cool
.’

Hayley looked at Mark from under her fringe. She could see why Ellen fancied him. When he smiled it accentuated the dimples in his cheeks, and his red Mötley Crüe
Theatre of Pain
T-shirt hung loosely on his frame. Ellen had already told Hayley that his mullet would have to go. Lucky for him Ellen had taken a job as a hairdresser trainee after her O-levels.

Hayley suppressed a sigh and tried not to pout.

They fancy the pants off each other. Great. I feel as welcome as a T-Rex at a vegan party.

‘I’m going to the loo,’ Hayley said, leaning in so they could hear. ‘Back in a sec.’

Or in an hour, more like.

She walked past a group of guys with her head down. She’d always felt awkward around boys – whether she found them attractive or not – and never knew what to say. Even with her braces out, her teeth straight and her metal smile gone, she felt, well,
awkward
. In comparison to Ellen, Hayley usually ended up standing in a corner, fiddling with her drink and chewing on a straw. At least she couldn’t say anything stupid with a full gob.

As she made her way through the crowded room she tripped over a handbag, stumbled into the guy in front of her and fell down sideways. The guy she’d bumped into turned round and, seeing Hayley lying in a heap on the floor, quickly knelt down to help her up.

‘Are you okay?’ he asked.

She felt the heat rising from the bottom of her neck and spreading across her face. ‘I think so,’ she muttered, noticing a group of people staring and snickering. When she looked up at the guy she’d collided with, her embarrassment hit stratospheric levels in less than a nanosecond.

He’s gorgeous. Drop dead gorgeous. Oh just kill me now. Open up, floor. Open up.

Now Hayley stared, but she couldn’t help it. Despite him being on his knees he towered over her. His brown eyes were as smooth and warm as a delicious Galaxy bar. She looked at his dark hair, short at the sides with a hint of a quiff. Then she took in his all-black outfit; leather boots, jeans, belt with a silver buckle, tank top and leather jacket.

He looks like he’s stepped straight out of a page in Vogue.

‘Let me help you,’ he said, getting up and holding out his hand. Hayley grabbed it and he pulled her up effortlessly and she was amazed he didn’t wince at her weight.

‘Sorry,’ she said. It came out as a ‘shwowee’ so she coughed and cleared her throat, buying some time. ‘I mean sorry. I tripped on a handbag on my way to the toilet for a pee.’

Oh my god, I just said ‘pee’. Will you shut up!

He grinned. ‘No problem. What’s your name?’

Name … uh, what
is
my name?

‘Oh, erm, Hayley.’

‘I’m Chris. I’m going to get a drink. Want one? After you’ve been to the bathroom?’ He smiled and winked. Hayley wished she could hold on to something to stop her from falling over again.

Sexiest smile, ever. Hang on. Did he really ask me if I wanted a drink?

Butterflies in fighter-jets flew loop-the-loops in her stomach.

‘Yes please,’ she said and fled to the loo.

Keep cool, keep cool. Don’t blow it. Don’t say anything stupid. Don’t even talk …

She checked her hair in the mirror and smoothed down her shirt, wishing she looked three times as pretty and felt ten times as confident. She wanted to splash her face with some water but decided against it as it might mess up her make-up. Besides, the blue fluorescent light was hardly ideal for pan stick touch-ups. Hayley swallowed hard, then took a deep breath and walked out of the bathroom.

Chris was there waiting and he led the way, bought two pops and handed one to her. She took a big gulp and managed not to cough and splutter when the fizzy bubbles almost went up her nose. Standing at the bar, desperately trying not to chew on her straw, Hayley felt the familiar sense of dread.

I’ve got to say something. Anything. Before he walks off.

‘Do you …’ they both said at the same time and then laughed.

Chris gestured with his right hand and bowed slightly. ‘Ladies first.’

She swallowed. ‘Do you like the film
Dirty Dancing
?’

Idiot! What did you say that for?

‘With Patrick What’s-his-name?’

‘Swayze.’

How could he not know Patrick Swayze’s name? The man was a
god
. The way he danced and his American accent were so
hot
. The first time she saw the film – and the four times after that – she wanted to claw her way into the screen and be Baby. She’d have fought Jennifer Grey with her hands tied behind her back. And she’d have won.

‘Swayze. Yeah, that’s it,’ Chris said. ‘It’s a bit of a girly film, isn’t it?’

‘Girly?’ She sniffed. This was
sacrilege
. ‘You make it sound crap. And it isn’t. It’s about a girl who meets a guy at a stuffy holiday resort and he teaches her to dance. It’s ace.’ She crossed her arms and stuck out her chin.

Chris’ eyes twinkled. ‘So … it’s not a favourite of yours or anything then?’

Hayley dropped her shoulders. ‘Definitely.’ She smiled. ‘The music’s brilliant and the dancing’s amazing. It’s so cool and –’

Chris nodded and shouted, ‘Give me a minute.’ He walked away.

He’s going. You stupid idiot. You blew it!

Hayley watched him weave his way through the crowd to the DJ and yell something in his ear. They both looked at her, then the DJ nodded.

Oh no, what’s he doing? Telling him he met Little Miss Dull?

She started looking around for Ellen so she could tell her she wanted to leave, but when Yazz’s ‘The Only Way Is Up’ faded and the next record started playing, Hayley recognised it immediately. ‘The Time of My Life’, the
Dirty Dancing
theme song. Chris stood in front of her and held out his hand, then he leaned in towards her.

‘You said the dancing’s good, yeah?’

She nodded.

‘Show me.’

They moved onto the dance floor and Hayley thought she might throw up. This kind of stuff didn’t happen in real life, at least, not to Hayley. She wondered if it was a dream or some kind of hallucination. Maybe she was actually lying in hospital, running a high fever, or even dying, her family gathered around her, weeping, and all the while she was being whisked off her feet by a demi-god. Or a god. Who was she to tell the difference?

Breathe.

Chris held her hand tightly, an encouraging smile playing on his lips.

Oh help. I’m not dreaming. This is ridiculous. Everyone’s staring …

‘It’s a bit, uh, sexy …’ she said.

‘Show me.’

Hayley placed her right leg between his and moved in close. She took his hands and put them on her waist before slipping her arms around his neck. Then they started moving to the music. A rush of excitement travelled through her body, making her tingle. She realised that, while she could dance well, Chris was far better. He got the moves right away, guiding her, pulling her even closer. Hayley’s pulse quickened.

Oh heck. His crotch is almost touching mine.

Other couples started watching and then copying them, until the room looked like the Kellerman’s resort itself. Hayley couldn’t believe she was dancing with this cool and handsome stranger. She caught sight of Ellen and Mark who were a few feet away.

Ellen winked at Hayley, pointed at Chris and mouthed, ‘Wow.’

The exhilaration kept on going for each new dance. When the slow songs came on, Chris pulled Hayley even closer and she could smell his deodorant and minty breath. She smiled.

This is so much better than standing in a corner. And
nobody
puts Hayley in a corner.

‘I’m glad we met today,’ he said as they swayed to the music.

‘Me too,’ Hayley whispered as she closed her eyes and put her head on his shoulder.

They didn’t stop dancing until the crowd thinned out, the lights came on and the music stopped. Chris helped Hayley into her coat and they walked up the stairs behind Ellen and Mark, who were holding hands.

‘Right then,’ said Chris, ‘I’d better go. See you next Saturday?’

‘Yes please, that would be ace.’

Oh shut up you pathetic, desperate cow!

Chris grinned, then leaned over, gently put his index finger under her chin and softly kissed her cheek.

‘I’ll look forward to it,’ he said.

Hayley’s legs trembled and she leaned against the wall. As she watched Chris walk away, he turned and winked at her, and the butterflies in her stomach turned into psychotic bats.

Ellen rushed over. ‘Well? Did he kiss you? Did he? What was it like?’

Hayley shook her head. ‘Only on the cheek.’ She sighed. ‘I’m still waiting for my first kiss.’

‘You’ve been kissed before,’ Ellen said, the corners of her mouth twitching.

‘No I haven’t!’

Ellen put her hands on her hips. ‘Oh yes you have,’ she said in a pantomime villain voice.

‘Oh no I haven’t.’ Hayley laughed. ‘Bobby Hill behind the bike sheds doesn’t count. That slimy tongue and his groping hands. Ugh.’

‘Wotcha!’ Mark appeared behind them, making Hayley jump. ‘You were showing Chris some right old moves.’

‘You know him?’ Hayley said.

‘We went to the same comprehensive for a while.’ Mark shrugged. ‘He’s got a bit of a reputation. With the
lay-dees
.’

Hayley’s heart sank.

Of course he’s a player. He’s probably forgotten me already.

While Ellen and Mark said goodbye with a rather long and very public snog, she sat on the wall, swinging her legs and thinking about what Mark had said. So Chris had a reputation – that was hardly ground breaking news, surely. He was gorgeous, all the girls would be after him, they’d be mad not to. She frowned. There had been dozens of prettier girls at the disco and yet Chris had chosen her, danced with her, only had eyes for
her
.

Hayley sucked in a lungful of cold air and puffed out her cheeks, then felt herself sit up that little bit straighter with an inch of freshly grown backbone.