Moved On

Moved On Part Eight

Annie tiptoed past the unknown sleeping woman.

Holy hell, where the feck was she? Half hour ago she had woken up fully clothed, in a blindingly white bedroom, with a strange woman snoring. No memory as to how she got there. Annie had been drunk in the past, but had never been so drunk as to not remember what she had done the night before.

She searched her minds memory banks. What was the last thing she remembered? Green cocktails, laughing at a stupid joke, she couldn't remember what the joke was though.

Sean had met her from work and driven her to a dive bar in Fremont Street, not the most salubrious of establishments, but it had a good vibe. Suspicious Minds had been pumping out of a Wurlitzer jukebox. Sean found her a table and disappeared to the loo, then on his return had ordered her a green goblin.

'Is this the scouseaccino?'
“No darlin', a scouseaccino is a creamy, frothy drink much enjoyed by dappy Cockney bints. No bar sells it, you can only get it directly from the source.” He winked lewdly.
“What?...Aww that's disgusting, don't tell me  'com' 'ave a bevy, I'll enlighten ya" is actually successful?"

Sean, coolly took a sip of his water, then dipped his head. Grinning, he leaned forward." Not worked yet, but I live in hope."

She’d woken up in someone else’s bed. His bed, was this his house? Had she been so smashed he couldn't trust taking her home? Embarrassment brushed her body like fine needled cacti lining her clothes. Her belly squirmed as if she'd ingested live snakes. Annie hadn't felt this mortified since waking up at a sleepover to find she'd wet her best friend’s bed. At least then she'd had the excuse of being seven.

A flush of heat scored Annie's cheeks as a glimmer of memory from the night before flashed through her head.

"Essex girl jokes are interchangeable with blonde jokes. You just say why are ‘Essex girls’ so easy to sleep with?"
"Why?" Annie had asked.
"Who cares?"

Why had Annie told him she wasn't from London? The point of hiding in Las Vegas had been so she couldn't be traced, not so she could tell every Tom, Dick and Sean her...what, what had she told him? She couldn't remember.

Common courtesy dictated she find Sean and apologise, like a lady, for whatever she might have done, leave with what little dignity she could muster from the situation. Maybe Sean was still asleep? That might not be a bad thing. Annie could bail out while the opportunity presented itself. Frankly, common courtesy could do one.

Her stomach muscles locked tight. If she did that she would kiss goodbye to any chance she might have had with Sean. But, in truth, was that ever a likelihood? She had a sinking feeling she had already told him more than she should have.

As Annie passed a white kitchen, through to an equally eye searing white living room, she became conscious of a faint whirring sound. Shutters were lowering over the wide windows, blocking out the sunrise, darkening the room. That's when she noticed the interior quickly filling with dense vapour... She'd set off a smoke cloak.
Shit!
Within thirty terrifying seconds Annie was blind.
Shit, shit, shitty, shit!"