Sweet Home Page 65


The tables were cleared and everyone moved to the centre dance floor, and Romeo, on hearing the opening chords of Lynyrd Skynrd’s “Sweet Home Alabama,” stood and pulled me to my feet. “Let’s go, Shakespeare. Every true citizen of Bama has to dance to this as a rite of passage.”

I giggled as he wrapped his arms around me and moved seductively around the dance floor, singing the lyrics in my ear, badly out of tune. Hundreds of eyes watched as we danced with happy grins, Romeo spinning me in his arms and dipping me down for a dramatic kiss to rapturous applause. Bullet and his good luck charm once again in the spotlight.

I, unfortunately, also saw Kathryn Prince glaring at us, swaying unsteadily as a result of too much alcohol. She grimaced at us parading our relationship in front of all of her guests, and I couldn’t help but smile her way. I knew I was fuelling the fire, but she couldn’t do anything in front of her friends. Rome would make sure of it.

When the song drew to a close, the Tide coach came over, slapping Romeo on his back, asking him to go talk football to some important people.

Rome bent down as he sat me at the table. “I’ll be back as soon as I can. Stay with someone, okay?”

“I promise.”

“I’ll hurry.” He kissed my hand and walked away into the awaiting group of men.

I stayed with my friends for over an hour and Romeo was still nowhere to be seen. I’d drank more orange juices than I thought was possible and having newly acquired a bladder the size of a pea, needed to go to the washroom again for the umpteenth time that night.

I stood and Jimmy-Don stood too. “Jimmy-Don, I’m only going to the washroom… again. I can manage that on my own. Honestly, just stay here with Cass—dance, be merry, and all that crap.”

“Nope, let’s go, darlin’. You’re stuck with me.”

I squeezed his arm in thanks and shouted to the girls, “Just going to the washroom. Tell Romeo if he comes back.” I turned to go into the house.

I’d just passed the huge central stairwell when Cait came over holding a piece of paper. “Hey, Molly, I’ve been told to give you this.”

A note.

I rolled my eyes and opened it.

Needed to get away for a little while.

Meet me in the library.

Rome.

I quickly used the bathroom and when I came out, showed Jimmy-Don the note. He smiled and shook his head. “What’s with you two? Come on, I’ll see you there and leave you to it.”

I hugged him and gave him a grateful smile and we moved through the packed house to the find the library. Jimmy-Don did as he said and I walked alone into the massive old library, shutting the door.

I was immediately mesmerised by the shelves and shelves of books, floor to ceiling, with several wheeled ladders sprawling along the casing to reach the higher volumes. I was in heaven, bookworm heaven. I could spend hours in a place like this, lost in the pages, transported to other worlds, other lives, forgetting reality for a while. My inner geek began doing back flips of excitement.

I peeked my head around the corner of the room to the large stone hearth and leather sofas, looking for Rome, but the room seemed completely empty. What was he up to?

I smiled excitedly and sang, “Romeo, Romeo, where for art thou, Romeo?”

No answer.

“Romeo?”

Nothing.

“Rome, are you in here?”

I heard the latch of a lock snap behind me and when I turned, Shelly and Kathryn Prince were stood at the entrance, smirking at me with identical bitchy expressions.

My excitement soon turned to dread.

Kathryn stumbled forward, grossly inebriated if the glaze in her eyes was anything to go by. “Well, hello, Molly. We meet again.”

I shifted to the end of the centre table, creating some distance between us. “What do you think you’re doing?” I looked first to Kathryn and then to Shelly, who lingered nervously in the background.

“You got the note, I see?”

My stomach sank. They’d set me up and I’d fallen for it like a mouse in a trap.

“Shelly here told me about you and Rome and your sickening, cutesy notes—she’s been watching you—and I knew that’d get you from the protection of your friends.”

We circled around the table like fighters circling the ring.

“I’ve been doing some digging on you, Miss Shakespeare from Durham, England.”

She read the alarm in my expression and laughed wickedly. “Mmm… yes, it made for very interesting reading.”

I jutted out my chin, trying to show I was unfazed.

I was anything but.

“Let’s see…” She put her finger to her mouth as she pretended to think. “Poverty, working class, living in what can be described as nothing more than a hovel. Momma dies in labour and leaves you in the care of an alcoholic miner of a father, who, when you were only a little girl,” she whined in a girly voice, baring her overly white teeth, “decided you weren’t worth sticking ‘round for and slit his wrists in the tub.” She slapped her hands on the wooden table. “Am I close, Molly? Is it hitting you yet? That you don’t belong anywhere near my family?”

Tears spilled from my eyes, but I stood firm, unmoving. I glanced at Shelly, who was skittishly guarding the door. She seemed shocked. Was it possible that she didn’t know that the little intimidation chat would develop into the shredding of my life?

Kathryn stood only feet away; she’d taken advantage of my stalling. “Fast-forward eight years and Grandma gets advanced stage-four lung cancer from smoking too much, and little, lonely Molly has to care for her all by herself, until—oops! She dies too, leaving little Molly all alone and thrown into foster care.”

My hand rubbed at my chest as I struggled to breathe, lungs smothered with the grief her words conjured. My legs grew weak, too weak to move as she approached, her putrid whiskey-laced breath almost making me retch.

“But that’s not the end, is it? Molly becomes plagued with sinking anxiety and depression, so bad she needs help, therapy… lots of therapy. But it doesn’t work. So she thinks of a plan—marry rich! She’s smart and manipulative, so she flees to Oxford to try and catch a wealthy idiot who’d fall for her charms. Isn’t that right, darlin’?”

I shook my head back and forth. “I would never do that! Stop making things up!”

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