Page 3 - Bottle

a drunk driver. But I'm not sure I got it all. You'd
better phone. Have you got her number?"

"Sandra," he had said, wanting her attention,
"will you marry me?"

"Kevin?"
"Yes, Mum? Sorry I …"
He was naked and he suddenly felt cold. Very
cold.
"Have you got her number?"
"Whose?"
"Sally's."
"Yes, I, er, think so. But you'd better give it to
me just in case."
He scrawled the number on one of the scraps of
paper beside the telephone. His hand was shaking
and the paper slipped, so he wedged the
telephone between his chin and shoulder and held
the paper still.
"Are you going to be, okay?"
He held the phone again. "Yeah, yeah, fine
Mum."
"Call a friend. You shouldn't be on your own."
She knew he wouldn't travel across the country to
her a day before work.
"Yes, Mum." Although, he couldn't think of
anyone to call.
"You'd better phone Sally, then."
"Yes."
"Kevin, love you."

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