THIS IS CHERYL’S POV
From behind thick, bullet-proof and blacked out windows I watch the city flit past. The jumbled lights from the other cars and lampposts burn into my eyes, and I blink, trying to see clearly. We stop at some traffic lights and I watch the young girl in the car next to me sing, her earphones in and a smile on her face. In a strange, detached sort of way I wonder why she’s so happy, but then the lights click onto green and I look away, focusing instead on the back of my driver’s neck. His neck was thick, and I watched the rolls of fat move as he drove. Instinctively I touched the back of my own neck to see if there was a roll of fat there too. There wasn’t. The skin was perfectly smooth, but I still shuddered slightly as I ran my fingers over the place where I knew I had ‘Mrs C’ inked into my skin.
To keep my hands busy I look at my watch. I’m late, as always, the time is 9:20pm and it’ll take me another twenty minutes to get home through the last dregs of the rush hour traffic. Swearing, I pick up my phone to text Kimberley, but then I drop it. She won’t have noticed that I’m late, and it’s not like she’ll care even if she has. She doesn’t keep tabs on me for every second of the day. She won’t scream at me if I’m late. She won’t hit me if I speak to someone without her permission. I smile, remembering her soft, honest eyes and gentle Yorkshire accent. She’s nothing like him. I sink back onto the soft black leather, and smile to myself. I’m happy that I’m going home.
The gravel of the driveway crunches under the wheels of the heavy black 4x4. Looking up at the darkened windows of my house, I’m disappointed. She’s asleep; the light in her bedroom is off. ‘She must be tired, looking after Diana on her own all day’ I tell myself, but still I can’t help but feel a little bit sad. I must try to be less selfish.
“Thank yous” I say to the driver as the car pulls to a halt
“Am I picking you up tomorrow?” he asks. I wonder if he genuinely doesn’t know, or if he’s just trying to make conversation, maybe hoping I’ll invite him in.
“No, I’ve got the day off” I reply coolly. He doesn’t look at me; instead he still faces forwards, like a statue. It’s as though he can’t look at anything except the thin strip of grey road in front of him. I imagine him when he gets home, pulling up outside some none-descript terraced house and just sitting perfectly still in his car all night until he comes and picks me up the next morning. The idea makes me smile.
“Okay” he says “goodnight.”
“’night” I say before opening the car door and hopping out. I pause for a moment to pull off my heels before skipping over the sharp gravel and onto the front step. I drop my shoes to rummage around in my bag and feel the cold metal of my keys. I watch the car drive away before unlocking the front door and stepping inside.
I pause with my back to the wooden door, listening intently. The house is quiet. My heart stops. What if they’ve left? What if Kimberley has gone, without even saying goodbye? I raise a hand to my head and drop my bag, then rush upstairs. But before I’ve even opened her bedroom door I can tell she’s still there, Sacha has left a stray colouring pencil on the landing, and the house doesn’t seem as quiet as it normally does. It’s almost as if I can hear them breathing. I push open Kimberley’s bedroom door and pause, watching her sleep. Her blonde hair is spills out all over the pillow, she’s not under the blankets and I see one of her feet twitch as she dreams. She’s wearing a t-shirt with the words “Take Care” printed on the front, and tiny black shorts. I step in and close the door behind me, and now the room is only lit by the moon spilling in through the open curtains. I go into the bathroom and turn on the taps, watching the water gush out. I cup my hands and try to catch the water, but it’s no good, it runs straight through my fingers. I splash my face, feeling the hot makeup fall away and leaving my skin stinging. Carefully I peel away the false eyelashes and leave them on the side of the sink, like two black, many-legged spiders. I unzip my dress and wriggle out of it, leaving it in a tangle of golden sequins on the cold bathroom floor. Topless and freezing I scrabble about, finally finding and pulling on one of her t-shirts. It smells of her, and I smile.
I go back into the bedroom. She looks so peaceful that I don’t want to disturb her. But I cross the room, careful not to trip on the tangle of her clothes on the floor, and sit on the bed beside her. Hesitantly I reached out and touched her. Her skin was hot to touch. I lay down beside her and she sleepily mumbled something so quietly that I couldn’t hear her.
“Kim?” I whisper, looking at her. She snuggles into the pillow and snuffles. “Goodnight” I breathe, and silently, without really meaning to, I blow her a kiss.
