Fit For Purpose Julian Parrott (best ebook reader for chromebook TXT) 📖

Each patron in the small lounge bar took turns on the stage. A few more joined them from the bar. They ran through the classic American song book, then Beatles, Motown, and seventies pop. Nia sang ‘Don’t Cry for Me Argentina’ and the entire place went quiet in awe. She was an actor, she was Welsh, of course she could sing. Nia forced Tom onto the pub’s small karaoke stage where he surprised her, and the other patrons, with a decent voice and an ability to entertain as he worked his way through a Smiths classic. Remember, he told her, that he had found many ways to engage with the soldiers under his command. He should have been an actor, she joked.

Jayne, who had earlier recognised Nia, turned to her,

“You got a nice one there Nia. Kind eyes,” she whispered. “Never thought your man, oh what’s his name the big actor, good-looking bloke. Never thought he had kind eyes.”

***

Nia stared into Tom’s eyes as they lay on the small and hard hotel bed. Yup, she thought, kind eyes but still with a hint of sadness there. They both closed their eyes as they kissed deeply. They kissed until their collective desire demanded more. Nia removed Tom’s sweater and shirt and then she pulled off her sweatshirt. Tom realised that she wasn’t wearing a bra. Her hard nipples were obvious through her T-shirt of the Mini with the union jack. She knelt on the bed and unzipped his jeans and felt him harden in her hand. She pulled off his jeans and pants. She intimately massaged him for a moment and then stood on the bed and, wobbling a little, pulled off her own jeans.

Tom looked up from his prone position and laughed when he saw her thong. She twirled around as if on the catwalk. Tom leant up and grabbed one of the thong’s thin straps with his teeth. Nia put her hands through his hair as he lowered her thong using only his teeth. She wobbled and collapsed on top of him laughing.

Chapter Seven

London, Next Day

Nia woke with no idea of the time. She had been driven from sleep by a crushing anxiety. She felt as if she had woken from a nightmare, struggling to catch her breath. As her eyes became accustomed to the dark, she looked over to Tom and watched him sleeping beside her. She had fallen deeply and quickly for him. Perhaps too quickly she thought. He was too nice for her, perhaps too needy, too… her thoughts continued as she began to self-sabotage. She was trying to rationalize; she didn’t have time for a relationship, for any emotional attachment that persisted for more than a few sweaty nights of lust and desire. Everything she loved at some time; family, Goldenboy, the baby, she had lost. She didn’t do meaningful connection. Any more.

The morning broke as grey as Nia’s mood. They checked out and found a diner for breakfast. They talked over a couple of cups of coffee. Tom didn’t want their time together to end but couldn’t ignore Nia’s distraction. She was a little more formal, cooling, perhaps, he thought, it was because they had to part. Nia walked Tom to the nearest Tube station when it was time for him to leave. Their conversation began to feel forced and Tom noticed that Nia walked with her head down as if concentrating only on her feet.

“I would like to see you again,” Tom said trying to avoid sounding needy but knowing that he probably did.

Nia wanted to say, “Yes”, but she held back and, instead, kissed Tom gently on the lips.

Tom responded to the kiss but was troubled by Nia’s deflection. Conversation began to whittle away. Tom was already feeling the ache of leaving Nia. Nia was trying to swallow the anxiety that was bubbling in her gut. She used her Oyster card to accompany Tom down onto the platform.

Tom tried again, “I could travel down next Friday if you’re free?”

Nia panicked.

“I’ve got a busy week,” she said automatically. “There’s the audio book to finish, I’m preparing for an audition, and then there’s a location shoot I need to prepare for.”

“Okay, when would you be free?”

“I’m not sure when I’ll be free again,” Nia replied somewhat disingenuously. “So, let’s play it cool, for a week or two yeah?”

Tom nodded but felt the ground beneath his feet fall away.

“I’m not sure what cool means, Nia,” he said genuinely surprised.

Nia felt like she’d throw up.

The Tube train pulled in. She kissed him gently on the lips.

“Please, just go Tom,” she said “I’ll text you later.”

He boarded the train and turned to face her as the carriage’s doors closed with their pneumatic hiss. Tom thought she looked lonely yet lovely as she slipped away and out of his vision. Nia stayed on the platform as the train disappeared into the dark tunnel of the underground. She sighed, shook her head slightly, turned and headed for home. She felt an icy wave of nausea grip her.

As Nia passed a crowd on the platform, someone shouted, “Oi Nia, give us a kiss then darlin’.”

Nia put her collar up, her head down, and walked away.

***

Shrewsbury, Later the Same Day

Tired from the weekend, the drive from London, and the emotional bombshell on the Tube’s platform, Tom sat silently, lost, at his sister’s kitchen table, mug of tea in hand. He was despondent, troubled by the change in Nia. He had tried to think of what went wrong, and when. He knew he was romantically clumsy, out of practice. He hadn’t had a proper relationship for years. Rachel had orchestrated a few dates after he had come out of the army, none were successful. There had been a few relationships since then, but most ran their course after a few days and