Page 27 of Saved By Two

I was mortified at my reaction when I heard that startled scream. I wasn’t sure what to think, and before I could even stop myself, my feet were moving until I found myself in the hallway, staring at a vaguely familiar face.

As soon as Noah left to get the sugar, Maggie came and sat beside me and told me if I needed anything at all to let her know. She didn’t ask me what had happened, but something tells me it was pretty apparent from the way she not so subtly took stock of my appearance.

I glance around the room, and my chest tightens at the added personal touches. Even though I don’t plan on staying here for long, I appreciate the gesture.

Noah gave me a look I couldn’t quite decipher before he left me alone. I worry I’ll say or do the wrong thing, and I already feel like so much of an imposition. I’m a mess. It doesn’t help that the one person I want to see is unobtainable. At this point, I just want to know he’s okay.

My bag is still at the foot of the bed, so as carefully as possible, I suck in a deep breath and lift it onto the mattress. I grabbed my favourite framed photo of Mason and me. Brushing my thumb over the glass, I trace our smiling faces. He’s always had a way of making everything better, even while growing up. I’m sure the last thing he wanted was to have to raise me practically, but he did and never once complained about it.

It was easier once I left school and even more so when I turned eighteen. My mum wasn’t interested when she could no longer get money for me—sad, but it’s the truth.

She already had a widow's pension from our dad. He died of cancer when I was eleven. I vaguely remember things being good before then, but my memories now are overshadowed mainly by what came after. I don’t know what would have become of me without Mason, yet here I am, seeking refuge in his friend's home.

Is he okay? Where is he? Will he be disappointed in me?

All these questions play on a loop as I pull out my most prized possessions and lay them on the bed.

There are three more photographs. One is of me with my mum, dad, and Mason in Blackpool. That was our last family holiday before Dad got sick. The other was one of me bungee jumping in Ibiza when I went on a girl's holiday before I met Curtis, and the last one is me with my group of friends from culinary school, even though we’ve lost touch.

My passport, birth certificate and purse are all here. I flip through to see how much cash I have on me: two twenty pound notes and a couple of quid in loose change. I have all my bank cards and driving licence, even though I don’t have a car. Thankfully, apart from a joint account with Curtis for bills, the rest of my money is my own. I have a couple grand in a savings account and a few hundred in my current account.

I stare at my iPhone and pick it up, turning it over in my hands, tempted to turn it on, but I’m not ready to face whatever messages might await me from Curtis, and the last voicemail I left for Mason said I was coming here. And there’s my laptop which has seen better days; I’m surprised it still works after one of Curtis's blowouts.

Going back in the bag, I feel around, and my heart begins to race; in my haste, I didn’t grab any charging cables. I only grabbed a bra, a couple of pairs of underwear, some T-shirts and leggings, and an oversized cardigan. Also my Guns n Roses t-shirt that has seen better days and a beautiful scarf with foil embossed black roses that my mum got me one year for Christmas. She usually gave me cash and then asked me to borrow it back. I never did get it back.

My white Steiff Teddy bear, Lotte, was a gift for my eighteenth birthday. A small jewellery box inside holds my Rolex, a twenty-first birthday gift from Mason, and a couple of other items of jewellery, a charm bracelet, a rose pendant necklace and some earrings, the running theme, all of these were gifts from Mason. Anything from Curtis I left behind. He didn’t like me wearing anything that wasn’t from him, so it wasn’t difficult to grab my box and leave the rest behind.

This is my life. My worldly possessions might seem pathetic to anyone else, but they’re everything to me. I’ll need to get some trainers. I wasn’t thinking of practicality when I grabbed my clothing. I think that was evident from how I arrived here.

Putting the contents carefully back into my bag, I place it at the foot of the bed. Picking up the framed photo of Mason and me, I stand it on the bedside table and bring Lotte to my chest, cuddling the soft, familiar teddy.

* * *

There’s a soft knock on the door, and I startle awake, my heart racing, ribs aching. I glance at the TV, the credits rolling. I couldn’t have been asleep too long. I was close to the end of the film.

“Can I come in?” Noah's voice calls through the closed door.

I move to sit up, clearing my throat. “Yes.”

The door opens, and his head appears first before he enters, balancing a tray in his hand.

“I hope you don’t mind. I took the liberty of making lunch.”

“Thank you.”

He places the tray on the foot of the bed and hands me a plate with a sandwich.

“Cheese salad. Hope that's okay?”

I nod. “Yes, thanks.”

He places a glass on the coaster beside me and eyes the photo before reaching for the other plate and pulling the chair closer to the bed where he sits. “Thought I’d join you. Caleb is always telling me off for eating lunch while I work.”

I pick up the sandwich and wait for him to bite into his before I bring mine to my mouth and take a tentative bite.

“If you want me to make you something else, I can.”

Shaking my head, I cover my mouth with the back of my hand before speaking. “No, it’s nice, thank you.” Even if I was telling the truth, I just don’t have much of an appetite.

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