courage to do that. To walk out of her open prison, never to return.
Gemma and Carly held hands as well as they could with their bags; left the house together.
As Gemma closed the door behind her for what she hoped would be the last time, another Robert De Niro quote sprang to mind. Something about life being short and whatever time you got was luck. That was what she was having now. Luck.
She had been given this chance for a fresh start, and from now on, Gemma Adderley was going to create her own luck.
2
N ina felt the air on her face, cool and welcome. Closed her eyes and kept walking.
The club had been good, she had to admit. Itchy Feet night at Lab 11. Just one room with bare brick walls and a bar, kind of damp-smelling, but it played good music for a club night. Not the usual stuff all the other places played. Fifties music, swing. Retro. Just what she liked. And she’d enjoyed herself, mostly. It hadn’t been her idea to go but she didn’t want to seem like the odd girl out or the killjoy who held all the others back. Especially as they hadn’t known each other long and were still bonding as a group. The first uni semester was like that. Just as she’d expected it to be. She wanted to make friends with the rest of the group she had been put in halls with, and this seemed to be the best way of doing it. Also, she suffered from serious FOMO. She hadn’t heard the phrase before she had arrived at uni, but it had stuck in her mind ever since. FOMO: Fear of Missing Out. And now that naming it made it officially a thing, she was relieved to admit it was pretty strong inside her.
She opened her eyes, still walking, looked at the others she was with. Andrew was from Manchester, gay and mouthy. She’d had a friend like him in sixth form. She hoped he could be her surrogate. Every girl needed a gay best friend, she had decided. Laura was the other girl in the group. Nina could see herself gravitating towards her too. They seemed to have lots in common and they were on the same course. The other two boys were Mark and John. Lads. That was all she could think of to say about them. They were good fun; bright, funny, but not really on her wavelength. Good lads, though, happy to be seen out with girls and didn’t stigmatise Andrew for being gay. A great bunch to be with and it seemed like they all got along together. Early days, but that was a good sign.
Mark and John were clowning as they went. Loud, laughing like everyone was watching.
‘Oh,’ said Andrew, ‘you and your laddish fun…’
This seemed to be a pattern, fooling around as soon as they got a drink inside them. First time away from home, experiencing that nervous, giddy freedom. Nina wasn’t like that. She was cautious, careful. Took everything as it came, in her stride. Tried not to have fixed expectations. That way she wouldn’t be disappointed. That was what she’d always told herself. But she smiled at them. They were funny.
‘Did you see that guy?’ asked Andrew.
‘Which guy?’
‘Looking at you. That guy. Dark hair. Big eyes. Like Jared Leto.’
Nina knew exactly which guy he meant. She had fancied him but didn’t want to admit it. Not in the game plan, she’d told herself. Do the degree, have fun, get out. Don’t get lumbered.
‘Nah,’ she said. ‘Must have missed him.’
Andrew’s eyes rolled and widened in stage shock. ‘Missed him? How could you? My God, if you didn’t want him, I was going to have a go.’
Nina smiled.
Her ears were still ringing from the BPMs in the club, but she let Andrew go on, not really listening to him, pleased with the constant buzz. It was light now, early Saturday morning. They had gone into town quite late and Nina had paced herself with her drinks. Always bottles, always in her hand, making sure she knew who had bought them, ensuring no one could have tampered with them. Always in control. The way she liked it.
‘Where are we?’ asked Laura.
‘Digbeth,’ said Nina.
Daniela Fischerova, Neil Bermel