One Girl Army Read online

  ONE

  GIRL ARMY

  A YOUNG ADULT NOVELLA

  ONE GIRL ARMY

  First Published in 2017

  Copyright © Daniel Marc Chant 2017

  Written by Daniel Marc Chant

  Edited by Adam Millard and J R Park

  Cover art by Vincent Hunt

  www.jesterdiablo.blogsport.co.uk

  Twitter: @jesterdiablo

  The right of Daniel Marc Chant to be identified as the Author of the Work has been asserted by him in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means without the prior written permission of the author, nor be otherwise circulated in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.

  All characters in this publication are fictitious and any resemblance to real persons, living or dead is purely coincidental.

  For Sarah Lyons and Rachel Allen.

  I told you I don’t just write horror.

  “Come to the edge," he said.

  "We can't, we're afraid!" they responded.

  "Come to the edge," he said.

  "We can't, We will fall!" they responded.

  "Come to the edge," he said.

  And so they came.

  And he pushed them.

  And they flew.”

  ― Guillaume Apollinaire

  ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

  Huge thanks to Laura Mauro for being so honest, helpful and generous.

  Adam Millard and Justin Park – nice one lads, I appreciate your help with this project.

  And finally thanks to the free services of the NHS, countless non-profit institutions and charities for the wonderful work they do supporting those with and affected by mental illness. Without the fine work you do some of us wouldn’t be here to live, laugh and love.

  CHAPTER ONE

  “Honey I’m home!” Chloe called as she walked into her small apartment.

  She threw her keys in to the small bowl that sat on the table beside the door and began to unwind her scarf from around her neck. As she hung it on the coat stand she realised that there was no sound of life within the small apartment. Frowning she began to remove her coat. She had hoped that Damon would be there to greet her. She had sent him a text a few hours ago to let him know she’d be home soon and needed to share some bad news with him. He’d replied and told her that they would get dinner in and he’d have her favourite desserts ready for her.

  Perhaps that was where he had gone she thought to herself as she walked through the apartment. She smiled to herself. He really was a thoughtful man. She carried her bag into the bedroom that she and Damon shared and plonked it on the bed before she went to turn the shower on. She’d only showered that morning but the tiring nature of her day left her feeling unclean. The hot water would work wonders on her sore muscles as well.

  While the water heated up and the room filled with stream and heat Chloe returned to the bedroom and searched through her bags for the doodles that she had made at work that day. They might turn out to be useful in sorting out her ideas for a new product on her online store, if she ever got around to starting it. She flicked through her sketches before she shuffled them back in to line and placed them in the manila folder where she put all of her sketches. It was getting full, she noticed, she would need to get a new one soon. She realised that she had sighed again as she looked at the shelves near her wardrobe. One entire shelf was almost entirely filled with those manila folders, each individual folder full of sketches and notes that she had made to herself over the years. She wondered, as she undressed and climbed into the shower, whether she would ever actually get around to putting those ideas into practice. Probably not.

  In the showers she ran through the memories of the day. It had gone downhill quickly, almost as soon as she had set foot in the office. Paperwork had been misfiled and, as the newest and most temporary member of the team, she had immediately been blamed. Of course it hadn’t helped that she had been suggesting changes to the filing methods and asking why they were still using the same methods that had been used since the 80s ever since she had started there three months ago. She couldn’t understand it. She went into work every day desperate to do her best, to be as hard working and helpful as she had been taught. But something always seemed to go wrong and within a few hours she’d gone back to doodling and doing the bare minimum.

  The same thing happened with her colleagues too. Every day she practised conversations with them all, thinking up things to talk about and maybe get to know them better. But then every time she opened her mouth to say something her words came out wrong and she ended up putting her foot in her mouth. More often than not her colleagues would look at her as though she were insane and Chloe often wondered whether she actually was. At first they had humoured her, continuing the conversations despite her strangeness but as more time passed they started to ignore her and now they had started to turn around and walk away as soon as she started to approach.

  As Chloe washed her hair she remembered that it had often turned out that way, even in school and especially at university. She’d never been one of those girls with dozens of friends who all gathered around her and vied for her attention. If she was lucky she had had one or two close friends and the rest were simply people she spoke to vaguely during lessons or when she was out and about in town. After a while of this she began to accept that maybe she wasn’t meant to have dozens of friends and tried as hard as she could not to let it bother her. She used her sarcasm as a shield and anyone who wasn’t put off by it was deemed, in her mind, as worthy of being her friend.

  Her shower was done and she felt cleaner and happier at last. For a moment, as she stood there in the bedroom she considered just going straight to bed. Then she realised that she hadn’t heard another sound from the apartment. She checked the time. She’d been in the shower for at least half an hour. So why wasn’t Damon home yet? For a moment Chloe felt a spike of worry as it settled cold in her gut. Then she wondered whether perhaps he was simply working late and hadn’t had a chance to tell her. Or he had possibly been called away. Either way he may have left her a message or a note. Quickly she pulled on some clean clothes and dug through her handbag for her mobile. There were no messages on her phone. She tried to think of where Damon may have left her a handwritten note, if there was one.

  She padded into the kitchen as she towelled her hair dry and twisted it up on top of her head. There, on the table was the note that she had been looking for.

  Mr. Smith, Room 204, Ridgemound Hotel

  Chloe couldn’t help but smile. The Ridgemound Hotel had been where they first made love. She checked her calendar and couldn’t believe it when she saw the date. It was actually a year to the day since they had first met. Clearly Damon had decided to surprise and treat her for their anniversary. She quickly hurried to her bedroom again and set about getting ready. She smiled as she sorted her hair out, remembering that first night they spent together and how they met.

  She had been in a bar and had been desperately trying to get another drink. It had been hot and cramped and she had decided to forgo heels. As a result she was shorter than normal and every time the barman got near her another patron would lean forward and shout out their order first. She’d tried everything she could think of to get attention, having even gone so far as to pull down her top slightly and flashing her cleavage more than usual. But it hadn’t worked and she had almost given up. Then the person beside her had slammed in to her, shoving her against the bar and taking the wind out of her. She’d almost fallen when suddenly the
person who banged in to her grabbed her arms and steadied her. She’d turned and looked up, and up, into a pair of bright blue eyes. He’d been stunningly handsome and she hadn’t missed the look he sent down her top as well as the way his pupils had flared and dilated. He’d smiled, flashing a pair of heart stopping dimples at her. She’d found herself smiling back and then turned away when his eyes drifted to the barman who’d caught his eye.

  She’d sighed and made to walk away but a gentle hand on her elbow pulled her back. She’d turned back to the bar to find the barman staring at them both, looking bored.

  “I think this lady was first,” the man had said beside her. “But I’ll get her drink and mine.”

  He’d turned to her and asked what she wanted. She’d eventually managed to stammer out her order, shouting it again into the barman’s ear. And that had been it. The rest of the night they had drank and danced and talked. Damon barely left her for a moment and he had ignored all the other girls that smiled at him or ‘accidentally’ danced up against him. She’d been hooked from that moment and couldn’t believe it when she found herself coming with him to a nearby hotel. They’d lost themselves in a night of passion together and that had been the end of it. She’d thought it was a one night stand and had woken up before him the morning after. She’d begun to get dressed but Damon had reached out and gently pulled her back down to lay beside him.

  He’d insisted in them spending the entire day together and after that, the week. Within six months they’d decided to live together and although her career might not have been going anywhere she knew that her life with Damon was. She felt happy with him, complete. He completely accepted her need to constantly question everything and more often than not he had the answers for her, buried within some long forgotten fact that he just seemed to remember. Whenever she suggested different ways of doing things he listened and asked questions before he either shot down her ideas or pointed out the flaws. He supported her, loved her and was her everything.

  Chloe looked at herself in the mirror and smiled. She looked better than she had that night they met, than she had in quite a while. She’d never felt up to making the effort for the last few months and she knew that it bothered Damon. But now she wanted to. That note was like a spark of bright light in the darkness of her day and it promised to make everything better.

  CHAPTER TWO

  Chloe smiled with the fond memories that rushed in to her mind as she walked through the lobby of the hotel. Her heels clicked on the fake marble floor as she quickly walked across to the reception desk. She smiled at the concierge brightly and leaned forward slightly.

  “Hi I’m meeting my husband here,” she said, “He’s in room 204 but he may have left a key for me. The booking should be under the name of Mr. Smith.”

  The concierge smiled at her, his eyes glinting knowingly. He tapped on the computer for a few moments and then his smile widened.

  “Here we are Mrs. Smith,” he said pointedly as he held out a key card, “I hope that you enjoy your stay at Ridgemound Hotel.”

  “Oh I’m sure I will,” Chloe replied.

  She couldn’t prevent the smirk that spread across her face as she turned away and, key in hand, walked towards the lifts. Within moments she was on the correct floor and making her way down the corridor. Her eyes scanned the room numbers as she walked. She felt sexy and confident and unable to believe that they were doing something so adventurous for their one year anniversary. Damon Tricheur truly was a man of surprises.

  She found the right door and took a moment to check her make-up and touch it up. She fluffed up her hair one last time and slipped the key card in to the slot. She pushed the door open as silently as she could and slowly squeezed inside. She slipped the door shut behind her. She heard it click shut behind her. Then she heard something else. It was the sound of moaning and the wet slap of skin on skin. There were slurping sounds and the creaking of bedsprings.

  Chloe walked into the room and gasped. Damon was laying on the bed. But she couldn’t see his face. The only reason she knew it was Damon was the black tribal tattoo on his arm. And the small yellow bird with the big head on his hip. Even that was almost completely hidden though, covered over with strands of brash yellow hair. The arm that bore the tattoo was wrapped around the hips of a woman. And Damon’s face was buried in her crotch. She was moaning and bucking against his grip.

  Chloe couldn’t see her face though. That was buried in Damon’s crotch. All she saw was a glimpse of a mouth. The lips were painted a horribly bright shade of pink.

  “Damon!” she cried out. “What the hell?!”

  Damon looked up, glancing over the woman’s backside. His eyes widened.

  “Chloe!” he shouted, “What are you doing here?!”

  His eyes fluttered closed for just a moment. Then he shifted, grabbed the woman around the waist and pulled her off. The woman looked confused before she caught sight of Chloe. Then she gasped and scurried up to the head board, clutching a pillow to her chest. Then a smirk spread across the woman’s face. Chloe noticed that her pink lipstick was smeared all over her face.

  “So this is the infamous Chloe Jackson?” the woman said snidely. “I thought she would be prettier.”

  Chloe stared at the woman in shock, unable to believe that she even knew who Chloe was.

  “Damon?” she asked weakily, her limbs trembling, “Damon who is she?”

  “Baby,” Damon said softly, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean for you to find out like this. Why don’t you go home and we can talk about it when I get back ok?”

  “Go home?!” Chloe said sharply, her voice rose higher, “Go home?! Why the hell would I go home? More importantly, why would I even let you back in the house?”

  “Baby,” Damon said slowly.

  He climbed to his feet and walked towards her, a pillow held over his crotch. He stretched out his hand, coming towards her cautiously as though she were a dangerous wild animal.

  “Baby, come on,” Damon said.

  He reached her and gently took a hold of her arm.

  “You know this has been coming,” he said quietly, stepping in close to her personal space.

  “I have my needs and you just weren’t meeting them. But I love you and what to be with you. I can forgive you for pushing me away,”

  “I pushed you away?!” Chloe shouted, “Even if I did that is no excuse. None. How long has this been going on? A week? A month?”

  “Nine months,” the woman on the bed said suddenly.

  Chloe had forgotten that she was even there and apparently so had Damon. He twisted to glare at her and she sat back on the bed, pouting.

  “Nine months?!” Chloe shrieked, “We’ve only been together a year! What’s wrong with you? How could you do this to me?”

  “You’re not exactly the easiest person to live with,” Damon said, his eyes suddenly unreadable. “And I like sex, I need sex. So I went and got it from somewhere else. I didn’t want to upset you by complaining about it or asking. I know how hard you try to be perfect and I didn’t want to put any more pressure on you.”

  “Why did you even move in with me?” Chloe asked quietly, “If I wasn’t enough before we even lived together why would it be any different after? Do you even love me?”

  “Of course,” Damon said.

  He stepped forward and put his hands on her upper arms. He rubbed them gently and looked down at her. She looked up at him and began to wonder whether maybe she was in the wrong. Perhaps she had pushed him away. It was true that she felt constantly restless and useless. She stepped towards him and almost wrapped her arms around him. She wanted to. Chloe quickly pulled back and glared at Damon.

  “No,” she said firmly, “That’s it, it’s over. I got fired today and I come home, hoping you would be there to look after me and then it turns out you’re busy screwing somebody. Anybody. It’s over. I want you and your crap out of my flat. Now.”

  She spun on her heel and stormed from the room. She could hear Da
mon behind her, calling her name. He almost got his hand around her arm as she paused to open the door but she shook him free and threw the door open. She stomped out, breathing hard. She could already feel the tears welling up in her eyes. As Damon stood there in the doorway, still clutching a pillow to his crotch she heard the woman inside, encouraging him to let Chloe go. Chloe bit back a sob and raced off down the stairs.

  CHAPTER THREE

  “Come on Chlo,” her father said. “You have to get out of bed sometime.”

  She felt the mattress beneath her dip as her father took a seat on the edge of the bed. She felt the heaviness of his hand as it settled on her shoulder and gently rocked her. She just groaned, turned over and tugged the duvet up and over her head.

  “It’s not the end of the world darling,” her mother called from the doorway of her bedroom, “There’s plenty of other people out there for you. And your old job will let you come back if you want.”

  “I’m not going back,” the heap of duvet and woman muttered, her voice muffled by the duvet over her head. “Just leave me alone.”

  “Honey, come on,” her father said.

  He started to tug at the duvet, trying to pull it clear of his daughter.

  “You need to get out of bed and go back to being a sensible adult,” he chided even as he started to pant for breath. “There will be other men who suit you better.”

  The tug of war continued for a while. Chloe didn’t want to leave the small cocoon she had made for herself. She had barely left the house in the two weeks since she discovered Damon with that woman. It was safe under the quilt, she was alone and there was no one there to disappoint or hurt her. She felt the tears prickling at her eyes and let them come. She rolled herself up into a little ball, pulling her knees right up underneath her chin. Her grip on the duvet didn’t loosen, even as her father continued to pull.