Everything is Beautiful by Eleanor Ray (best classic romance novels txt) 📕
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- Author: Eleanor Ray
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‘Stop!’ commanded Amy. Everyone looked up. Even the drunk man stopped muttering. ‘This is all your fault,’ she said. ‘Have you told them that?’
‘Keep your voice down,’ said Spike. ‘It’s not my fault.’ He smiled at the muscular policeman and gave him a little shrug of the shoulders, as if he didn’t know what Amy was talking about.
‘Chantel is in trouble,’ said Amy.
‘She’ll be fine,’ replied Spike. ‘She’ll probably just get a caution.’
‘I can’t believe you’re letting her take the heat for this,’ said Amy, feeling anger mount inside her and spill out like lava from a volcano. ‘Actually, I can.’ She looked around. ‘He is a drug dealer,’ she declared, addressing the policeman. ‘He should be in prison.’
‘Shush,’ said Spike, trying to laugh it off. He hissed at Amy. ‘Cut it out. She was the one holding the drugs.’
‘Because you chucked them at her.’
‘Shut up, Amy,’ said Spike, squaring up to her.
Tim came to put his hand on Amy’s shoulder. ‘Don’t talk to her like that,’ he said.
‘You can shut up too,’ said Spike. ‘It’s not like you’re squeaky clean.’ He turned back to Amy. ‘You don’t know what happened. Are we going to have a problem?’
‘Is he giving you trouble, ma’am?’ The policeman had come to stand between them.
‘Yes,’ said Amy. ‘He’s the drug dealer and he’s got my friend to take the rap for him.’
‘Interesting,’ said the policeman.
‘She’ll go along with it and he’ll get away scot-free. It’s not fair.’
‘Amy doesn’t know what happened,’ said Spike, turning to the policeman. ‘This is libel.’
‘Amy!’ Chantel rushed into the middle of them all and flung her arms around Amy. ‘Thank god you’re here.’
‘This is the friend you were talking about?’ asked the policeman, looking Chantel up and down.
‘Yes,’ said Amy.
‘Get out,’ he said to Spike, giving him an encouraging steer towards the door. Spike didn’t need to be asked twice.
‘Wait here a moment.’ The policeman left Amy and Chantel and went for a word with WPC Kelly.
‘I hope you told the police what happened,’ said Amy.
‘I’ve just got a caution,’ said Chantel. ‘It wasn’t worth making a fuss.’
‘I’m glad you’re OK,’ added Tim.
‘Right,’ said the officer. ‘A quick word with you, ma’am,’ he said, looking at Chantel. ‘Then you can all go.’
‘Thank you,’ said Amy. She took Tim’s hand and watched as the policeman spoke with Chantel, handing her a small piece of paper. ‘I can’t wait to get to bed,’ said Amy.
‘I need a little something to calm me down,’ whispered Tim. ‘It’s been quite a night.’
Tim went straight to the Beatles tin in the living room when they got back to the flat, removed a tiny clear plastic bag and gave it a little shake. ‘Just enough left,’ he said.
‘What are you doing?’ said Amy. ‘You’ve given up.’
‘Special situation,’ said Tim. ‘Tonight was pretty stressful.’ He got up and fetched the guitar-shaped ashtray from the bedroom before settling down to roll up.
‘Brilliant idea,’ said Chantel, watching him.
‘Terrible idea,’ said Amy. ‘Chantel, drugs got you into this mess.’
‘Spike got me into this mess,’ countered Chantel. ‘Can you believe him?’
‘Yes,’ said Tim. ‘He’s an arsehole.’ He lit up and inhaled deeply.
‘He’s got some making up to do,’ agreed Chantel, reaching for Tim’s joint.
‘You can’t be thinking about taking him back?’ said Amy. ‘Chantel, you need some self-respect.’
Chantel took a deep drag and watched herself blow smoke rings in the mirror. ‘We’re not all Little Miss Perfect with fine arts degrees and bright futures,’ she said. ‘Some of us are massive screw-ups.’ She passed the joint to Tim. ‘Aren’t we?’
‘Speak for yourself,’ said Tim. He leaned back on the sofa and closed his eyes. Amy grabbed the joint from his hand and stubbed it out in the ashtray before it singed the cushion. Chantel calmly picked it up and lit it again.
‘No lectures,’ said Chantel, throwing herself down on the sofa too. ‘I can’t face it.’
‘You need to break up with Spike,’ said Amy. ‘You’ll have a criminal record now.’
‘They just gave me a caution,’ said Chantel. ‘It’s no big deal.’
‘It is a big deal,’ said Amy. ‘And can you please put out that joint? It’s making me feel sick.’ She reached out to take it but Chantel held it out of her reach.
Tim’s eyes opened. He grabbed the joint from Chantel and stubbed it out in the ashtray. ‘Amy was meant to be painting tomorrow morning and then going to work, but she still got up in the middle of the night to come to your rescue.’
‘We both did,’ said Amy. She reached out and took Tim’s hand, still holding the ashtray. His hand felt warm and comforting under her own.
‘I wasn’t going to let you go alone,’ said Tim. They both watched as a small wisp of smoke danced upwards. Tim used his other hand to stub out the joint completely, twisting it against the ashtray. He leaned over and gave Amy a kiss.
‘You were the one who lit that joint,’ grumbled Chantel. ‘And seeing you two coo over each other like lovebirds is not what I need right now.’
‘What you need is to leave that drug dealer,’ said Amy, turning her attention back to Chantel but leaving her hand with Tim. He gently stroked her thumb.
‘He’s not really a drug dealer,’ said Chantel. ‘You’re exaggerating.’
‘He deals drugs,’ replied Amy.
‘Yes, but it’s not like he’s a gangster,’ said Chantel.
‘He stitched you up,’ said Amy.
‘True,’ said Chantel. Amy could sense victory was close. ‘But I don’t want to be alone,’ said Chantel.
‘He’s not the only option,’ said Amy. ‘There are plenty of nice guys out there.’
‘Like Tim?’ asked Chantel. He’d nodded off on the sofa, his mouth open.
‘Easy tiger,’ said Tim, briefly coming back to life. ‘I’m a catch.’
‘I was joking,’ said Chantel. ‘You’re great. Everyone is great compared to Spike,’ said Chantel. ‘Even bloody Dean Chapman.’
Amy laughed. ‘He’s married now,’ she said. ‘Did you hear?’
‘No way,’ said Chantel. ‘He was my back-up. Now even he’s taken and I’ll be sitting on the bloody shelf
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