Page 34 of The World Outside My Window

She turns and skids slightly as her socks slip on the tiled floor, but she rights herself and sprints from the kitchen, grabbing her coat from the bottom of the stairs and slinging the door open. By the time she reaches the bottom of the path her breath is coming in frantic gasps and she feels dizzy, the world spinning around her like a merry-go-round. She can hardly see where she’s going with the rain in her eyes and her hair plastered to her head, a cold wind in her face. Her breathing is shallow and she thinks she might pass out, and then suddenly – sweet relief! – she’s at her front door and her hand is fumbling, shaking, trying to get the key in the lock and then finally the door opens and she collapses onto the floor, water dripping from her clothes, sticking to her skin, her breathing sharp, staccato, the door blowing back and forth in the wind behind her, tapping on the wall insistently. But she’s home, she’s safe, and nobody can get her now.

A few minutes pass before she can drag herself into a sitting position, and she gives the door a hard shove with her foot to close it. She sits for a moment, legs crossed, hands resting on her knees and tries to remember the breathing techniques Debbie taught her. Slowly, slowly, her vision starts to come back, and her breathing returns to normal. She’s okay. Nothing has happened, and nothing is going to happen to her. Not in here.

She doesn’t dare think about how she must have looked to Ben, running out like that. He must think she’s mad. Perhaps she is, she thinks, as she stretches her legs out in front of her and realises she isn’t wearing any shoes and her socks are wet through and muddy. She thinks back to her mad dash back to the safety of her house and doesn’t remember stopping to pick up her shoes at any point. Oh God, she’s left them there. She’ll have to send Debbie round later to get them back for her, and apologise.

Maybe this whole thing isn’t such a good idea after all. Maybe she isn’t as ready as she thought she was.

* * *

There’s a squeak behind him, then the sound of footsteps, and by the time he’s turned round, Laura has gone, banging the front door behind her. Ben stands, mug in hand, mouth gaping slightly open, and thinks,What the fuck?Then he looks down at the patch of floor where she was standing and sees her trainers. She’s left without her shoes. Why was she so desperate to get away from him that she’d leave her shoes behind? What on earth just happened?

With a sigh he puts the kettle back down on the worktop and bends to pick up Laura’s discarded shoes. He really, really doesn’t want to get involved, if he’s honest. But he can’t help feeling worried about Laura. And, now he comes to think about it, he hasn’t seen Jim for a few weeks either. Not even a quick ‘all right?’ as Jim left for work or a chat on the way to the shop. It’s a bit odd.

Besides, Laura is going to need her shoes back, and after that dramatic exit he doesn’t expect to see her on his doorstep any time soon.

He shoves his coat on and walks to the door. Just as he goes to pull the door open he hears a rhythmic thumping and Rocky appears at the top of the stairs, holding his head on one side expectantly.

‘Not now, buddy, sorry,’ he says, and the dog sits down, his tail wagging enthusiastically on the carpeted floor. ‘Later, promise.’

It’s still chucking it down outside, and Ben wonders how long it took Laura to notice she was walking along the pavement in just her socks. Her feet must have been freezing. He closes the door behind him, locks up and walks briskly past next door to Laura and Jim’s house. It seems odd that, after several months of friendship, he’s never actually set foot inside this house before.

He rings the bell and waits. A few seconds pass and no one comes. He presses the doorbell again, holding it down for longer this time. Again, nothing. He’s about to leave the trainers hanging on the door handle and hope she finds them later when there’s a scraping sound, and then Laura’s dishevelled face appears through a tiny crack in the door. Her face reddens instantly when she sees who it is and her eyes lower to the ground.

He holds out her shoes. ‘You left these.’

She looks at the trainers and, realising she needs to take them, opens the door a bit more and sticks her hand out, hooking the laces with her finger.

‘Thank you.’

She hovers a moment longer, the shoes dangling from her hand, and neither of them speaks. Ben wishes he were good at this sort of thing, but he never has been. When there is a silence to fill, his mind just goes blank.

Fortunately Laura speaks first. ‘I’m sorry about before.’ A drop of water escapes from her ponytail and sneaks its way slowly down her forehead towards her eye. He watches as it reaches her eyebrow and splashes onto the floor. She wipes her head with the back of her hand and looks up. Her eyes are wide and, he notices, a gorgeous shade of dark brown. ‘I didn’t mean—’

‘It’s okay—’ They both start speaking at the same time and he stops. ‘Go on.’

‘I was just going to say I didn’t mean to be rude, before. I just got a bit spooked.’

‘Well, I am pretty scary.’ Ben shrugs, not sure what else to say. Laura just nods sadly and he worries he’s said completely the wrong thing.

‘Thanks for bringing my shoes back.’ She points her toe out of the door. ‘My socks are a bit of a state.’

‘Yes.’ Oh God, why can’t he just say something less moronic? ‘Listen, is everything okay?’ Yes, of course it is, Ben, that’s why she just ran out of your house without her shoes on because she was so desperate to get away from you. Idiot. ‘I just got the impression you came to ask me something.’

Laura shakes her head. A gust of wind sends the rain horizontally, smacking Ben side-on in the face. He staggers sideways. He should be going, this isn’t helping anyone. But as he turns to leave, Laura speaks.

‘Jim’s gone missing.’

Three words, but they stop him in his tracks. ‘What?’

‘Jim’s disappeared.’

‘Oh…’ This explains a lot. ‘Since when?’

‘Two weeks. And two days.’ Her face is white and she looks so lost. ‘I was just wondering whether – whether he might have said anything to you. About anything?’

Ben stands for a moment in the pouring rain, his mind racing.DidJim say anything? He can’t say for sure. He’s usually pretty oblivious to even the most obvious of things. But he finds he really wants to help this woman.

‘I’m not sure.’ He takes a step forward and she flinches. He holds his hands up and steps back again. ‘Sorry.’

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