Chapter Eight
‘I need a minute,’ Aileen said to no one in particular. She’d drunk her two pints in complete silence, her happiness dissipating with Isla’s absence.
She grabbed the tables as she went, hips bumping into stools.
She needed to take a walk and see straight. Right now, though, she felt joy bubbling inside her like the fizzy beer she’d downed all night.
When she almost lost her footing, Aileen chuckled. ‘Silly floor.’
It wobbled under her like jelly again.
Giggling, she clutched another stool and inched towards the door. She mistook a step and almost tumbled, but the stools were her dear friends. They didn’t let her fall.
She patted one of them, not sure why the person at the next table eyed her. ‘Thank you. Only you care.’
When she almost kissed the floor, the walls came
