Page 3 of No One’s Daughter

My lips thinned as I attempted to hold my smile at her valiant defence. Drunk Claire had little of a filter and I loved her for it. Before Uncle Graham could form a response, Claire raised her half-drunk glass and threw it in his direction. My eyes widened as I watched the pale bubbly liquid splash against his upturned face.

“Okay, okay,” Dominic stepped in, turning to Uncle Graham. “Sorry about that, she’s had a little too much to drink, but she’s right. You’re out of line and I think it’s time for you to leave.”

I knew there was a reason I liked Dominic more than any of Claire’s previous boyfriends.

Uncle Graham muttered some response whilst drying his face with a napkin as he got up from the table. “I was going to put some money behind the bar for the celebrations, but I think I’ll keep my money to myself. Your mother was right about you two.”

​He turned to leave, and Claire and I couldn’t hold back our laughter. It spilled out of us.

​The night wore on as expected. One glass of wine became two as conversation drifted between congratulating the pair on their happy news and asking why I was still single at the ripe old age of twenty-seven.

​I watched as Claire and Dominic danced to no music, completely in love with each other as I nursed my glass of wine. I wasn’t jealous of them, I was happy they’d found each other. I think maybe a small tipsy part of me envied how they had each other’s backs. I’d never had that—aside from with Claire of course, but that dynamic would change now too—and I wondered if I'd be destined to be alone forever. In truth, I much preferred to be alone anyway, and I don’t think I’d ever risk my peace again by bringing a man into it. As far as I was concerned, men were only good in the short term. It was easier to take what I wanted and keep my heart closed.

​“Oh come on, Ailsa, you know you wanna escape this shithole as much as I do,” Bradley said, and I realised I had completely missed what he had said prior.

​“I’ll tell you what, I’ll buy the first and second round…” his eyebrows wriggled at me. “And I promise I won’t try anything, alright?” He held out his little finger toward me with puppy dog eyes. “Pinky promise.”

​“Urgh, fine,” I said with exaggerated expansion. I could use that stronger drink and I wasn’t close to tired. Maybe getting lost in a crowd of bodies was what I needed. “I’ll go for one drink, but that’s it.”

​“Yes!” Bradley excitedly hissed, clapping his hands together and rubbing them.

​Claire and Dominic were still in a world of their own and I hated to interrupt them, but I made my way over to them, again congratulating them and saying my farewells.

​Then I headed out with Bradley, deciding to let the night take me where it may.

CHAPTER TWO

Ailsa

THE DARK LIQUID within the glass in my hand swished as I gave it another slow swirl, the melting ice cubes clinking lazily against the sides. Condensation slicked the outside of the glass, dampening my fingers. I took a sip, letting the burn settle warm and low in my chest. I was already riding a pleasant buzz from the alcohol and my body wanted to move, to dance, but the music in this bar was positively shit.

​I grimaced, glancing around the bar again as though it might somehow improve. It didn’t. Dim lighting tried and failed to create any sort of atmosphere, and the crowd leaned more towards bored after-work drinkers than anyone looking to actually enjoy themselves.

​“I’m gonna head, Bradley,” I said, tipping back the rest of my drink in one go.

​He looked up from his pint, eyebrows lifting in mild surprise. “But we only just got here. Come on, have another drink with me first.”

​“Nah, I’m good,” I said, setting my empty glass down with a soft thud on the sticky bar top. “I’ve had a long day and my bed calls to me.” A complete lie, but I delivered it easily.

​Bradley frowned, clearly not convinced. “You sure? You seemed happy to get out of that dinner.”

​“I was,” I said, offering a quick smile to soften my sudden departure. “And I’m glad we did. I’m just… not feeling this place.”

​That part, at least, was true.

While his idea to escape the dinner had been a good one, his choice in the bar wasn’t. There was a decent club not far from here that was much more my type of scene, and I knew I could let my hair down there without having to dwell on small talk.

​He hesitated, then nodded, though I could tell he was debating whether to insist on seeing me home safely. I beat him to it.

​“You stay,” I added, grabbing my bag. “Have a couple more. I’ll be fine.”

​Evidently, that had settled it. “Alright.”

​I didn’t wait around for more. The sooner I got out, the better.

​A change of location, three drinks and several songs later, I was submerged in a sea of sweaty, dancing bodies. Right where I wanted to be. The air was thick and close, laced with the sharp tang of alcohol, cheap deodorant, and smoke. Heat pressed in from all sides, clinging to my skin, but I barely noticed.

The music was relentless—loud enough to rattle my ribs, the bass a steady pounding force that drowned out all other sounds and I could just ignore my inner monologue for once. The world around me disappeared as I got lost to the music. It was proper music this time—gritty, visceral, something with edge. I moved intuitively to the sound, without a care in the world, feeling free at last.