Eloise ~ Part one ~ Under my skin

She tottered across the bare boards in high heels, a sheer glittery blouse and tight mini skirt…

I open the door and Duke is standing there, eyes fierce, mouth drawn. Before I even utter a word his fist lands on my left jaw. I stumble backwards and he takes a step forward swinging his other hand at my nose.

Thwack.

I am down on the floor I can taste the blood rising in my nostrils and feel slightly dazed. But yeah, I suppose I deserve it. I attempt to move but fall back and lay still.

“Bloody woman” — I mutter and think about when I first met Eloise.

A few months earlier

I used to drink with Duke now and then in the Fox. When I needed a place to stay he suggested I have one of the rooms in the house he rented out. Good price too. I moved in with my guitar, ghetto blaster and one suitcase, went straight out and got drunk.

When I returned reality kicked in and I realised I had nothing to sleep on. Feeling a bit like a lost tiger I pissed in each corner of the room — marking my territory — and passed out on the floor.

The next morning I was aching like hell but Jesus was looking down on me. I walked up the road to the corner shop…