Page 80 of A Face in the Crowd
‘Didn’t I say? It’s at an office close to Crosstown? It’s only filing and that sort of stuff, but I want to make sure I get a good sleep. It’s—’
Karen lunges at me, wrapping both arms around my back and stroking my hair. ‘Oh, honey. I’m so happy for you…’
I tap her gently on the back, unsure how to respond. At least in part, it’s drunk talk. Karen is slurring her words as she presses hard into the crook of my neck.
‘You deserve this,’ she says.
It takes me a few seconds to extricate myself and then it’s our turn for the lengthy goodbye. I promise to let Karen know how the interview goes and she says I’ll have to come over for dinner soon. After that, I put Billy back on his lead and tug him away from his new friends. There are more goodbyes – mainly from me – and then I’m finally outside, on the way home.
It’s a short walk, but I spend the whole time peering into the shadows. As if trying to give me a heart attack, a cat jumps from a wall, landing with elegant ease on the pavement in front of us. Billy’s ears prick up, but he’s too tired to go chasing tonight. The cat stands and watches, almost daring us on. It’s nothing to worry about and yet I still walk in the middle of the road for the short distance back. It’s where there’s more light; where I am furthest from the bleakness of the overgrown bushes and the high walls behind which anyone could be hiding. It’s late, but I want to call Lauren to tell her that I know who’s living opposite. That she’s rented the apartment to a fraud. It’s only the fact I’m sober that stops me.
After getting into Hamilton House, I find myself edging up the stairs, expecting a surprise around every corner. There’s no one there; nobody in the hall outside my door.
Jade’s door is unlocked and slightly open. There’s silence as I wait in the corridor and only darkness within. I knock hard on the door frame and then, when there’s no reply, push the door open with my foot?
‘Hello? Ben?’
There’s still no reply, so I poke my head inside and flick on the light, only to see that there’s nothing inside, except for the sofa and small table. The ethernet cable has disappeared from the back of the room and the cupboard door in which I found Melanie’s coat is open. The apartment feels different than it did when I was last here. Itfeltoccupied then, even though there was so little furniture. Now, there’s an emptiness to the air and it feels abandoned.
I exit back to the corridor and leave the door as I found it. After getting into my own apartment, I close the door and lock it; then carry a chair across the room and wedge it underneath the handle.
Billy is already in his bed, head down, ready to sleep. It’s past his bedtime and he’s had a busy day. I don’t pull out the bed, instead sitting on the sofa and huddling under a blanket. It doesn’t feel as if I’ll be able to sleep. Sometimes I might have the television on for background noise – but not this evening. I close my eyes and strain to listen for any sounds from the corridor.
It’s hard to explain, but I feel like I’ve lost something, even though the opposite is true. Perhaps it’s that I no longer have the sense of security I once had? Or that there are certain things in life that can be taken for granted? The sky is blue and the night is dark – but I’m not sure what to believe any longer. Absolutes are no longer absolute.
I lay my head on the armrest and open my eyes to watch Billy. He’s on his side, head tucked underneath his paw. His ribs are rising and falling in steady rhythm and I wish his innocence was mine. I won’t sleep tonight. I know I won’t.
Chapter Forty-One
Saturday
I’m pinned to the sofa, my legs dead and useless. I try to lift up from my hips but there’s no strength below my waist. It’s a mass of paralysis, with added pins and needles. When I open my eyes, there’s a familiar sight.
‘C’mon, Bill,’ I say. ‘Let me up.’
Billy opens a single eye and groans slightly. There’s a sliver of slobber around his lips and his eyelids flutter sleepily. He’s comfy and the fact he’s laid across the entirety of my lower half is seemingly a problem for me, not him. I don’t remember falling asleep, something emphasised by the jabbing jolts of pain in my neck. I’ve slept with my head twisted at an L-angle to the rest of my body. The curtains are open and light floods across the apartment, but it’s only when I spot the chair wedged under the front door handle that I remember what happened last night. Now, even more than then, it feels like a figment of my imagination. Could I have somehow imagined it all?
I push myself up, sliding my legs out from underneath Billy’s frame. He rolls over and once again shoots me his best betrayed look. The pins and needles start to fade as I knead my fists into my thighs and twitch my toes. My initial few steps are unsteady, a baby duckling waddling onto shore for the first time, but the feeling is almost back as I get to the front door. I remove the chair and then open the door to stare into the corridor. The door to the apartment opposite is still slightly agape, a reminder of what was and what’s gone.
This time I do call Lauren, who answers with a brusque, ‘Yes?’
‘It’s Lucy,’ I tell her. ‘From Hamilton House.’
‘Oh. You know it’s Saturday…?’
I have to resist answering with sarcasm that, yes, I do understand the concept of a seven-day week.
‘It’s Jade’s old flat,’ I say.
‘What about it?’
‘The door’s open. I couldn’t help but seeing inside – and it looks like it’s been cleared out. I think whoever was there has gone.’
Lauren sighs: ‘Are you sure?’
‘They might have invisible furniture, I suppose…’
‘At least he paid to the end of the year.’ Another sigh: ‘All right. I’ll be over later. Can you close the door?’
