Thanks again for the reviews - they mean a lot. I know there isn't much Kirsty/Adam pairing here yet, but I'm trying to show Kirsty's recovery from domestic abuse, because the mental scars last longer than the physical ones, and I think it's unlikely that she'd go straight into another relationship. That doesn't mean she never will, so keep reading!
Chapter 7 - On the doorstep
As the evening progressed, Kirsty had started to relax, and she was still smiling as she left the pub. She hadn't drunk any more alcohol after her Bacardi and coke, aware that with everything that had happened in the last few weeks Nita hadn't been sleeping that well and might need to be picked up from her friend's house during the night.
Adam, on the other hand, could hardly stand. He, Jeff, Dixie and Zoe had been playing drinking games, and Adam had downed shot after shot. At the end of the evening, Kirsty had put her arm around him and got him standing, and then led him out to the taxi she'd called for him, helped him in and gave him a sudden hug.
"Thanks for this evening. I'm guessing you won't remember this in the morning, but thanks," she told him. He muttered something incoherently as Kirsty drew back paid the driver and waved as the taxi pulled away.
The rest of her colleagues emerged from the pub, most looking slightly the worse for wear but none as drunk as Adam, as nearly all of them had a shift at the ED the following day.
"Was he alright?" Zoe asked. "I wasn't sure that we'd ever get him out of there, he was that out of it."
"Yeah," Kirsty replied, "but he won't half have a bad head tomorrow!" They all laughed and prepared to go their separate ways. Jeff, Dixie and Jay were sharing a cab; Zoe, Kirsty and Charlie only lived five minutes' walk away.
Zoe and Kirsty set off in one direction, waving to Charlie who was headed the other way. They chatted together companionably until they reached Zoe's house. Kirsty said goodbye and continued along the road to her house. She hadn't realised how close to her Zoe lived - she was practically on her doorstep. It was a strange feeling - knowing that all the times she had been lying awake in bed, in pain and unable to sleep, there was someone just a few doors away who would have helped her.
As Kirsty approached her house, she stopped sharply. There was a figure waiting on her doorstep. It was dark, and she couldn't make out who it was. She turned around so she had her back to the figure, silently took her phone out of her handbag, found Zoe's number, and held her thumb over the call button.
"Hello?" she called out, sounding braver than she felt. "Who's there?"
"Hello again, Kirsty," a familiar voice replied.
