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and I dismiss all my concerns
momentarily, as I sink into his comforting male bulk, with a shaky
snivel and a sniff. Over his shoulder I see Mason watching us, from
the gate, looking brooding and so angry he's about to explode. He
finally stalks off in the opposite direction, kicking the low brick
wall and shouting, “ Fuck her to hell, what do I care,” very
loudly, so I can hear every word.
    For the first time I
wonder what he's doing here. How did he know? And what about
Summer? I see Nat's cruel eyes in my mind. I bet he told him. In
fact, I'm sure of it.
    “Want me to walk you
home?” Jackson asks in a soothing tone of voice, bringing me out of
my thoughts.
    I look up at him.
“Please,” I snivel, wiping my runny eyes and nose on my bare arm. I
imagine I look a state. I've probably got mascara streaks
everywhere. Thank God it's dark.
    We start to walk.
    “So what happened with
Jane and Emma, etc.” I ask. I might as well get all the bad stuff
out of the way in one fell swoop. Then at least I won't have to
wonder.
    “Nothing special.”
    “Not your latest and
greatest loves after all?”
    “I guess not.”
    “Why was that?”
    “Jane was too young,
as in highly immature. Emma was too old and stuck in her ways,
which didn't fit in with mine. Rae was the right age but obsessed
with her appearance. She gave vanity a whole new meaning.”
    “Oh...”
    “Yeah, oh's about
right...”
    “Maybe you're too
fussy,” I laugh.
    “Probably,” he agrees,
squeezing my shoulder.
    We arrive outside my
place and he hugs and kisses me goodnight, with a sweet little peck
on the lips.
    “I'll call you
tomorrow. About dinner, okay?”
    “Yeah, looking forward
to it.” I smile broadly at him.
    He lets me go and
walks off down the road with a spring in his step.
    I'm feeling much
better now. Actually pleased we didn't go the whole way the first
night we got together. It means I can take a breather, stand back
from the situation and think straight. Lust has a lot to answer
for. That, and pints of wine.
    I go inside, dragging
myself up the stairs wearily. I kick my shoes into the cloak
cupboard and stand in the kitchen having a few glasses of water.
It's nearly 2 am. I'm dead tired after the usual dancing rehearsal,
my piercing trauma, and all the recent events of the evening on
top. I brace my hands against the kitchen counter-top trying to
stop my mind racing.
    What the hell am I
going to say to Mason?
    I'm worried it will
affect our dancing together. But now's really not the time to worry
about things. I need to switch off and rest. Tomorrow I'll talk to
him. Properly. Like friends should. I stand up, puffing out a sigh,
and make for my room. I don't expect I'll be able to sleep a wink,
but I should at least try.
    I go into my room,
drop my purse, and strip off my clothes. I chuck them somewhere in
the dark, and then turn the dressing table vanity light on to find
the make-up wipes and clear away the grime.
    I spot it immediately
in the mirror. I couldn't fail to. I squeak and draw in a huge
breath in reaction.
    A massive eight legged
monster is sitting on my duvet.
    It's one of 'those'
types of spiders. Damn ugly and damn big. My worst spider
nightmare. My heart pounds and sweat breaks out on my brow. I edge
around the room, staring at it in transfixed horror. Finally I'm
out of my room and shutting the door in relief. I grab the cushions
from the sofa and stuff them along the bottom of the door, covering
the gap, so it can't escape. My panic is dying down, now that it's
imprisoned in my room.
    I know it's illogical,
my fear of them. I can't control my reaction. I think I probably
need professional help, some kind of spider therapy.
    I go in the bathroom
and wrap myself in his ‘eat me’ towel as mine are wet in the
washing machine. I'd kinda rushed out earlier. It's not a very big
towel, but it'll have to do. I turn off the lights and go into
Mason's bedroom to wait for him to return and remove the spider for
me. If he