BooksBarbecue
Back The Game
Chapters (68)
  1. Cover
  2. Dedication
  3. NOW
  4. One
  5. BEFORE
  6. Two
  7. Three
  8. Four
  9. Five
  10. Six
  11. Seven
  12. Eight
  13. Nine
  14. Ten
  15. Eleven
  16. Twelve
  17. Thirteen
  18. Fourteen
  19. Fifteen
  20. Sixteen
  21. Seventeen
  22. Eighteen
  23. Nineteen
  24. Twenty
  25. NOW
  26. Twenty-One
  27. BEFORE
  28. Twenty-Two
  29. Twenty-Three
  30. Twenty-Four
  31. Twenty-Five
  32. Twenty-Six
  33. Twenty-Seven
  34. Twenty-Eight
  35. Twenty-Nine
  36. Thirty
  37. Thirty-One
  38. Thirty-Two
  39. Thirty-three
  40. Thirty-Four
  41. Thirty-Five
  42. Thirty-Six
  43. Thirty-Seven
  44. Thirty-Eight
  45. NOW
  46. Thirty-Nine
  47. BEFORE
  48. Forty
  49. Forty-One
  50. Forty-Two
  51. Forty-three
  52. Forty-Four
  53. Forty-Five
  54. Forty-Six
  55. Forty-Seven
  56. Forty-Eight
  57. Forty-Nine
  58. Fifty
  59. Fifty-One
  60. NOW
  61. Fifty-Two
  62. Fifty-Three
  63. Fifty-Four
  64. Fifty-Five
  65. AFTER
  66. Fifty-Six
  67. Acknowledgements
  68. About the Author

‘Because no one did,’ Mark said quickly, then closed his mouth as the familiar feeling he’d lived with as a teenager bubbled its way to the surface. ‘I didn’t know how to talk to anyone really. I thought if I spoke up, I’d just be laughed at. Then puberty hit, and it just made things worse, I suppose. I was bullied for a while, but even they moved on. I was too boring to make fun of, so they just left me alone. I barely spoke to anyone from the age of fourteen to eighteen. Just got used to it. I don’t know why I’m telling you this.’

‘It’s fine,’ Natasha said, and Mark believed her.

They sat quietly for a minute or so, before Mark felt her eyes on him again. He turned to her and opened his mouth to say something, but stopped.

‘It’s okay, I can feel it too,’ Natasha said, speaking for him. ‘This is the good bit though. Talking to each other and learning. I don’t usually get this close to someone after a month or so. I guess this is moving quicker than I realised.’

‘I’m sorry,’ Mark replied, but didn’t feel like Natasha was really sorry about what was happening.

The start of something.

Natasha laughed at his apology and shook her head. ‘It’s fine. I’m…’

‘Comfortable?’ Mark finished for her, smiling as she nodded in agreement. ‘Good.’

‘Doesn’t mean if I find out you’re secretly a Marmite lover or enjoy Love Island, I won’t be running for the door though.’

Mark laughed now and felt good for it. ‘No on both counts. But I do like those reality TV shows about emergency services, if that’s a problem?’

‘I’ll let it slide.’

‘What about you?’ Mark said, as Natasha shifted on the sofa, moving closer to him. ‘Any tales of woe from your teenage years?’

He couldn’t see her face now, as she turned and leaned on his legs. ‘Nothing that’d interest you.’

Mark shaped to say something, push her on what was quite plainly untrue, but instead closed his mouth and stayed silent.

It could wait.

Around midnight, with Natasha asleep in bed, Mark stretched out on the single sofa in the tiny living room, overpowered by the ridiculously huge television he’d spent far too much money on a year earlier. The Sky+ box was almost full, so he started watching a programme from it, turning the volume down so as not to wake Natasha. A half-hour panel show, he thought, would bring on sleep more quickly.

An hour later, he was still awake. He took his phone off the coffee table where he’d left it earlier that night and started scrolling through the local newspaper’s Facebook feed. He quickly found the story he was looking for.