Page 29 of After the Rain
“I’m reaching out to my friend. Well, actually,youare.”
I type out a message with shaking fingers.
@wren-the-farmer: Corey? Hi. My name is Wren, and I think we have a shared acquaintance.
I’m expecting to have to wait for a reply, but almost immediately, the little green circle on Corey’s icon comes on to show he’s online and then those three little dots start bouncing.
@core-bear: Oh really? I only have one person I’m hoping to hear from. Could it be him? He’s a private dancer…
He knows. He definitely knows it’s me. Or at least, that ‘Wren’ is talking about me. We used to joke about the Tina Turner song all the time, and it basically became our little theme song. A sweet joke between the two of us, one that lightened the mood when we were covering each other’s bruises with concealer before we went on stage. Bruises he insisted he got from his other job as a nanny, but I was absolutely sure that was horseshit.
@wren-the-farmer: Does he dance for money?
@core-bear: Fuck. Rain? Is that you?
@wren-the-farmer: Yes babe. It’s me. Are you OK?
@core-bear: I’m fine. Worried sick about you! I thought he’d fucking killed you! Where are you?
Aidan has his arms wrapped around me while I type, and I feel him tense at that. He hates Dan, possibly even more than I do. He hates him because of what he did to me. And while I don’t want my sweet, kind, gentle giant of a man to hate anyone, the fact that he is this protectiveover me reinforces the feeling of safety I always have with him.
@wren-the-farmer: I’m sorry I disappeared, but I’ll tell you all about it soon. Are you OK?
@core-bear: Not going to tell me where you are?
@wren-the-farmer: Not on here babe… just in case. Are. You. OK???
This time, the dots don’t bounce straight away, and I feel sick. I know he’s not OK. I just don’t know if he’s ready to admit it. I look at Aidan, and he kisses the tip of my nose reassuringly, his strong arms still wrapped around me. Wren is sitting silently in the chair Aidan vacated a moment ago, watching avidly. After a few minutes, the dots appear before he replies.
@core-bear: No. I’m so far from OK. I need help. I’m kind of stuck. When I thought he’d killed you, I ran. I was so fucking scared. I didn’t have anywhere to go so I jumped on about 4 trains all over the fucking place to make sure they couldn’t follow me. Paranoid I know.
@wren-the-farmer: There’s no such thing as paranoid when it comes to those two. Corey, where are you? Where are you staying?
He goes quiet again before he replies.
@core-bear: I’ve been sleeping rough but thenwhen it got really cold, I went to a shelter. I get in there most nights. It’s in Coventry. I literally sent myself to Coventry. Who the fuck do I think I am, Lady Godiva?
I feel sick again at the thought of Corey, a man even smaller in frame than I am, sleeping rough in fucking December, yet still chuckle a little at the fact that his sense of humour seems to be intact. I look at Aidan, my expression pleading, but he’s already grabbing the phone from me and replying to Corey.
@wren-the-farmer: Corey, this is Aidan. I’m a friend of Rain’s. We’re going to come and collect you, and you will come and stay with us. At least until you get settled. I’m going to have to insist on that as I can’t have Rain worrying about you.
I roll my eyes a little at his message, but lean into him and rest my head on his shoulder. He’d carry the weight of the world on these shoulders for me if I asked him, and probably even if I didn’t. He already is. All my baggage, emotional and otherwise, must weigh a tonne. And now he’s adding Corey’s baggage too? Fuck, I love this man so much it hurts.
@core-bear: I wish I had enough pride to say no thanks, but Rain is literally my only friend. Thank you. But I have a little money. I know you don’t want to say where you are, but is theresomewhere closer than Coventry that I can get to by train, maybe?
Aidan thinks for a second.
“Wren, where could someone get to that’s nearby, like within an hour or so, by train. Not Norwich, I don’t want to message any location that close to us, just in case.”
“Hmmm. What about Attleborough? It’s a tiny arse end of nowhere town, and the station is small, so he’ll be able to find us quickly?” Aidan nods in agreement and messages Corey back. He goes offline for a while as he tells us he’s going to look for a ticket. When he comes back online, he confirms he has a ticket that arrives in Attleborough at a little after seven in the morning. We tell him to be safe tonight, and then he’s gone.
We sit in slightly stunned silence when I hand Wren back her phone. And then, because we’re British and it’s just what you do in any time of crisis or celebration, Wren gets up and makes a cup of tea.
Twenty-Two
Aidan
We left the house just before six to make sure we got to Attleborough station in time. I’ve never felt more ridiculous watching my rear-view mirror and looking over my shoulder, as though I were a fugitive on the run. I guess in some ways, Rain is a fugitive, only he’s on the run from his violent, rapist ex-boyfriend and not the police.
