Standing at this party with this stranger in front of me, I felt as though I had been saved.
I told him that I didn’t fancy drinking the vodka, that I was feeling a bit worse for wear, then I laughed and told him that all I actually wanted was a cup of tea.
‘Then that is what you shall have,’ he said with a twinkle in his eye. We left the party that I had been at for just over an hour together, hand in hand.
He told me to call him D. ‘Everybody does,’ he said.
He took me to a McDonald’s and bought me a cup of tea and a doughnut and told me anecdotes of nights out and holidays that made me feel like I had barely lived a life at all; which, of course, I hadn’t.
‘What will folk think when I tell them I took a girl to McDonald’s on a first date?’ He tucked into a burger with fries, apparently not conscious of eating in front of strangers.
‘So this is the first date?’ I asked quietly as I attempted to sip scalding-hot tea from a polystyrene cup as graciously as I could.
‘Many more to come, I hope.’ He raised his eyebrows and flashed a cheeky grin, exposing that tooth gap.
He dropped me off at my cousin’s house an hour later. Time seemed to stand still as his lips met mine, unfurling all of my senses. I could smell alcohol on his breath, but beyond that, there was a scent about him that was hypnotic.
He left me with my knees weakening and a promise of another date.
‘Once I’ve shown you a good night out and how I treat a lady, you’ll never want to let me go,’ he called as he walked off down the path and back to the waiting taxi.
I watched the car drive away and felt the pang in my gut; this was just like the films I had watched.
I was already missing him.
3 Now
I was alone in the house again. I still had hours to go to make it to the end of this day. I still felt the tension rising through my body, the thoughts layering themselves one over another, each becoming entwined with the next. I heard a voice, a voice I recognised. I looked around the hallway where I was standing alone.
‘Don’t do it,’ the voice said. I was being pulled back in time.
I looked behind me again. ‘Don’t do it,’ they said, and suddenly they were there with the same kindness in their eyes; behind their veil of sadness they too were trying to overcome their difficulties, and they wanted me to try as well. If I just unlocked and locked the front door an even six times, everything would be okay, no one would get hurt. No one would die. Why couldn’t they just understand that?
I felt the actual presence of someone behind me, a voice that was very real; not from the past. I spun around and there was Sophia, another house mate.
She had put her shoulder-length blonde, curly hair in bunches and was wearing dungarees; she looked like a children’s TV presenter and reminded me of all those years I spent hours watching children’s TV programmes.
‘That one’s a bit tricky, huh?’ She smiled at me, her blue eyes twinkled. I realised I had found my way to the front door and my hands were on the doorknob.
I felt a wave of shame flood over me. Sophia was the eldest of the three house mates, but still so young at only twenty-three. I was drawn to her more than the other two, yet I still felt like a small child who had been caught with their hand in the cookie jar. The noise of the door must have brought Sophia from her room, where she spent an inordinate amount of time studying hard. She had told me on the first night I was here how studying had been inbuilt into her from a young age by her parents, who were both head and shoulders above everyone else in their chosen careers. I knew they put too much pressure on Sophia to be better than she was. Sophia was being kind and patient with me – a trait I had recognised in her from the first day – but I was sure all three of the girls would be sick of me once they began to hear me opening and closing doors over and over. But I was beginning to enjoy being around others again. I had spent far too long solitary. I was glad Sophia had appeared when she had. When someone else was in the house, it felt nice. It felt right. Perhaps I could start to appreciate having someone there for me again. I had pushed away everyone from my past a long time ago.
I thought about calling them from time to time, my cousins, or even my mother. I was an only child. My father had passed away when I was just fifteen, so I had the guilt of the unanswered calls from my mum to deal with. In the three years that had passed, I still couldn’t bring myself to pick up the phone and reach out even though so many people had texted me after it happened, telling me they were there for me. What was the point of reaching out to those whose lives were so far removed from me now? It would only stir up all the memories; people were very good at forgiving, but I knew no one would ever forget what I did.
‘You have to just twist it like this.’ Sophia leant in past me. I could smell her coconut conditioner; the one I had seen on the bathroom shelf on my first day in the house and inhaled so I could
