Spluttering

She took the things she needed and liked, which included a toy train from her childhood. But not much more than that. She was happy that no one would knew where she was heading. Nor what for. It was her decision. Her needs. Time had been ticking. MC Look, or Wallace to call him by the name his mother called him, had only had one night. He'd actually been with her for the weekend but they'd only made love once. So to him it was only one night. 13 years took 3 nights over the weekend to build up. They had hooked up when he was back for his brother's wedding.    Back when they were kids the rejection had stuck in his ego. But within that evening with her - same-old pub, time and alcohol seemed to change things. Or maybe they just got confused in his favour.    They were both older. He was now less bothered or demanding and more confident. When she invited him down to London, he half laughed, half coughed, spluttered his acceptance. In London he had no idea what to expect. Play it cool. It's now three years past that visit. That night. He's sat in a pub. A different pub. His pub. It's Saturday afternoon. It's overcast outside. A woman at the bar, with a toddler playing round her feet, reminds him of her. Donna.    He's not in London and he's not back where they both grew up but he works it out. The why. Smiling wryly, he whispers the word 'bitch' to itself. CSA could holler and whistle. Seen it happen a hundred times before.    Downing the rest of his drink he motions to his friend's glass.    The other man doesn't say anything, just smiles and nods; he understands.

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