Read Online Breaking the Bro Code by Stefanie London - Free Book Online
Authors: Stefanie London
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they said—’
‘Stop worrying.’ Elise used a firm tone, her hand steadying Darlene’s wrist so she didn’t burn herself. ‘I’ll take care of it.’
‘You’re a good daughter,’ Darlene whispered again. ‘I never meant to put us in this situation. It’s all my fault, it’s all my fau—’
‘Stop it.’ She didn’t want to hear the guilty pleas, the declaration of fault. She didn’t want to talk about the past, not even with her own mother.
‘I’ve stuffed everything up. I’ve ruined it all.’
‘Stop!’ There was a waver in her voice, a crack showing in her façade. She couldn’t let her mother see the strain, the stress. She had to keep it locked down; she had to deal.
‘I wish your father were still here. I wish we’d never gone on that raid...’
‘You need to sleep, Mum. You’re getting delirious.’
Darlene handed her barely touched tea to Elise and crawled into the sofa bed. The white sheet outlined her childlike frame. Elise set the cups down on the coffee table and put a blanket over her mother.
‘Sleep tight,’ she whispered, patting her mother on the arm. She had an instinct to hug her but she held back; hugging had never been a very big part of the Johnson household. ‘Leave everything with me.’
Deep breathing filled the room. Peace, at last.
* * *
Rows and rows and rows of seats stretched out and up in front of him. They were empty, except for one in the centre of the front row. Elise looked at him and nodded encouragingly. He paced the stage, the sound of his shoes echoing in the silence.
‘You have to get comfortable with your surroundings,’ she said, standing up from her seat and walking up the steps that led onto the stage. ‘Get used to the space, know where the hazards are. Stand behind the lectern.’
‘Now?’
‘Yes, now,’ she said, her voice sharp, businesslike.
‘Bossy boots much,’ he muttered under his breath.
He’d been woken early by a phone call from Elise. Apparently she’d had a brainwave overnight and thought that the two of them should meet where his speech was to be held. There was no mention of the memory he’d shared at dinner, no questions about the audience or the speech itself. True to her word, she didn’t want to talk about any of that. Though now it was out in the open Col felt as if someone had unlocked the gates of his past, and he’d tossed and turned with dreams of his childhood all night.
‘I heard that.’
‘You were meant to.’ He stood behind the lectern, his hands immediately clutching it as if it were a life raft and he were stranded at sea.
‘Okay, smarty-pants. Does the mike work?’
There was an on-off switch. He pushed the button and a green light appeared at the base of the microphone. He tapped it and the sound echoed through the auditorium speakers.
‘Check, check. One, two.’
‘Very creative.’
Elise stood at the edge of the stage, one hand on her hip. She wore a pair of jeans that were shredded up and down the front so that enticing flashes of creamy skin peeked through. A plain black T-shirt sat close to the skin, highlighting her slim waist and small frame. Her hair was plaited over one shoulder, making her look young though not innocent, and she wore little make-up. As usual.
‘Now, pretend I’m your audience. You’re just talking to me, no judgement, no pressure.’ She gestured with her hands, a pile of bracelets jangling as she moved.
Col unfolded the page of notes he’d printed from his makeshift office at the hotel. He smoothed the creases with his palms, trying to ignore the tremor of his hands. It was just her, Elise. It would be the first time she’d seen him exposed, raw. He could do this.
‘Whereas once health and fitness was left in the hands of professionals,’ he began, ‘the introduction of smartphones, tablets and twenty-four-seven information has meant a dramatic shift in the way people manage their lives, health included. Technology companies have seized this
‘Stop worrying.’ Elise used a firm tone, her hand steadying Darlene’s wrist so she didn’t burn herself. ‘I’ll take care of it.’
‘You’re a good daughter,’ Darlene whispered again. ‘I never meant to put us in this situation. It’s all my fault, it’s all my fau—’
‘Stop it.’ She didn’t want to hear the guilty pleas, the declaration of fault. She didn’t want to talk about the past, not even with her own mother.
‘I’ve stuffed everything up. I’ve ruined it all.’
‘Stop!’ There was a waver in her voice, a crack showing in her façade. She couldn’t let her mother see the strain, the stress. She had to keep it locked down; she had to deal.
‘I wish your father were still here. I wish we’d never gone on that raid...’
‘You need to sleep, Mum. You’re getting delirious.’
Darlene handed her barely touched tea to Elise and crawled into the sofa bed. The white sheet outlined her childlike frame. Elise set the cups down on the coffee table and put a blanket over her mother.
‘Sleep tight,’ she whispered, patting her mother on the arm. She had an instinct to hug her but she held back; hugging had never been a very big part of the Johnson household. ‘Leave everything with me.’
Deep breathing filled the room. Peace, at last.
* * *
Rows and rows and rows of seats stretched out and up in front of him. They were empty, except for one in the centre of the front row. Elise looked at him and nodded encouragingly. He paced the stage, the sound of his shoes echoing in the silence.
‘You have to get comfortable with your surroundings,’ she said, standing up from her seat and walking up the steps that led onto the stage. ‘Get used to the space, know where the hazards are. Stand behind the lectern.’
‘Now?’
‘Yes, now,’ she said, her voice sharp, businesslike.
‘Bossy boots much,’ he muttered under his breath.
He’d been woken early by a phone call from Elise. Apparently she’d had a brainwave overnight and thought that the two of them should meet where his speech was to be held. There was no mention of the memory he’d shared at dinner, no questions about the audience or the speech itself. True to her word, she didn’t want to talk about any of that. Though now it was out in the open Col felt as if someone had unlocked the gates of his past, and he’d tossed and turned with dreams of his childhood all night.
‘I heard that.’
‘You were meant to.’ He stood behind the lectern, his hands immediately clutching it as if it were a life raft and he were stranded at sea.
‘Okay, smarty-pants. Does the mike work?’
There was an on-off switch. He pushed the button and a green light appeared at the base of the microphone. He tapped it and the sound echoed through the auditorium speakers.
‘Check, check. One, two.’
‘Very creative.’
Elise stood at the edge of the stage, one hand on her hip. She wore a pair of jeans that were shredded up and down the front so that enticing flashes of creamy skin peeked through. A plain black T-shirt sat close to the skin, highlighting her slim waist and small frame. Her hair was plaited over one shoulder, making her look young though not innocent, and she wore little make-up. As usual.
‘Now, pretend I’m your audience. You’re just talking to me, no judgement, no pressure.’ She gestured with her hands, a pile of bracelets jangling as she moved.
Col unfolded the page of notes he’d printed from his makeshift office at the hotel. He smoothed the creases with his palms, trying to ignore the tremor of his hands. It was just her, Elise. It would be the first time she’d seen him exposed, raw. He could do this.
‘Whereas once health and fitness was left in the hands of professionals,’ he began, ‘the introduction of smartphones, tablets and twenty-four-seven information has meant a dramatic shift in the way people manage their lives, health included. Technology companies have seized this
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