She lay there, covered only by a sheet with her heart rate still high and felt stupid. Very stupid, the way she always did afterwards. He, the man she'd picked up at some pub several hours earlier, lay snoring his head off. He was happy with himself, Sarah Jane only wished she could be as easily contented. She knew why she did it, to mask her real thoughts, to get on with life. She was searching for the perfect rebound but there wasn't going to be one. Not on this planet. Seven years, she thought, turning onto her back while keeping a tight grip on the grubby sheet. She waited seven years but he didn't come back, not her Doctor. She had been abandoned again, her parents, her aunt, her fiancé- it was nothing new.
Lying in the dark she could feel the tightness in her throat, she tried so hard to hold back the tears. They were constant, a reminder of what she should be doing rather than hiding from the reality in strange beds. It was far from the first time, fourth of fifth perhaps, she felt like an alcoholic except she used people to forget, what other choice did she have?
She had to forget him, forget the mad curls and that beautiful, infectious smile. She had to forget the gentleman he was, who would happily wrap her in his coat and pull out a chair. Instead she got human men and began to understand the men her aunt had warned her about. 'Some only have one thing in mind, and you'll end up worse off' Lavinia had stated as she adjusted Sarah's first bra to fit on her shoulders. She had been sixteen and so naive- she wished that was still the case. Naive was one word but she was far from stupid. The Pill had been going around for a few years by the time she started on it, and more importantly it did it's job. No babies.
This one was married, a shudder of guilt came with the thought that taunted her like nothing else. He had a wife at home, a wife who was pregnant- very pregnant and probably very uncomfortable. She should have had her husband with her but instead her husband was getting to know another woman.
It was worse now that she was older, Sarah Jane knew most of the men she went with were married and had children. She was getting too old for this, was going to end up alone like her Aunt Lavinia except she didn't even have someone else's child to bring up.
She turned back to the man beside her, he wasn't exactly good looking- very hairy- but at least he had his own teeth and they weren't yellow, or black, even if that doubled with a beer belly like she'd never imagined she'd see so close. He was happy with himself, he'd had his evening of joy, a little buzz, and he'd snore away now, sleeping off the drink and the experience in order to sneak back to his wife the following morning claiming to have ended up at a 'mate's.'
This was where she made her leave, slipping out of the bed at a not-so-classy BnB and dressing as quietly as she could- being careful not to rip her stockings- that was the last thing she needed, her reputation had to be upheld and she didn't fancy being taken for a common slapper. The dress she'd worn was low, very low at the neck but it wasn't as if she had much to show off. Her raincoat would go over the top and the neckline would be hidden from view. No one would imagine anything, she looked too old to be an escort and besides, the raincoat was too expensive for that impression.
A few careful steps took her to the dusty window ledge, she could just peek around the edge of the curtain without letting in enough streetlight to wake her... friend. It looked frosty, she'd freeze walking back to George street for the car. Then again she shouldn't have let him bring her that far but the closest room had bad memories. It had been the first time. She'd thrown up, disgusted by herself- she hadn't wanted it, not really and he was so rough. She'd hobbled through the next few days, told her editor she'd tripped on the stairs. And then she read it in the paper, that man had been in a punch-up, even ending up in hospital. They didn't find out who attacked him but she liked to think she knew. Her intergalactic best friend could be pretty protective sometimes, would he have came all that way to beat up a man? She liked to think so. Sarah Jane turned for the window, pushing tired feet into high heeled shoes. She'd get home in the early hours, too early to be awake but too late to try sleeping again. She would make herself a cup of tea with the two sugars she used as comfort and get to work on that story she needed for the end of the week. K-9 would come and sit by her, he never said anything- as if he knew better- but would comfort her just like a real dog.
She sighed, glancing once more at the sleeping man, before heading for the door. This would be the last time, she told herself, determined it would be true. But she doubted it- she needed treatment. She needed a Doctor to make it better. And with the she closed the door on another night to forget.