Melrose

Chapter One

The black and yellow mark on my skin peers out from my cleverly placed cardigan, as the uptight woman in front rummages through her bag, failing to see my slip up, I take the woollen material in my hand, covering the stain. Just in time. She hands over two five pound notes, before proudly taking her second-hand lamp from the counter. "Thanks a lot." She gushes, admiring her new purchase.

"Of course."

"It's too hot to be wearing things like that." She mocks, acknowledging my oversized peach cardigan covering my arms and chest. "You must be roasting." Her eyes continue to explore my body, as I wrap myself up further to end the examination. Whether she says it out loud or keeps it in, she's not as subtle as she believes. I'm used to people staring, but I often find myself questioning the need. There's no harm in a woman who covers up, unlike her. Her breasts are pushed to the sky, her saggy arms on show for the world to see. "I mean, seriously, you could do yourself some damage if you're not careful."

"I'll keep that in mind"' I hand her the receipt. "Please, come back any time." She scratches her head, still looking me up and down. She opens her mouth, before taking a step back.

"Well, goodbye."

"Goodbye." I watch her leave, then focus my attention on the clock. It's two minutes to five. Unless another customer comes in, I should be leaving on time for once.

I sit down, not taking my eyes off the clock, my right eye twitching as I wonder if I'll hear that damn bell go off. The hand ticks by, teasing me, seemingly going slower the more I want to leave.

Finally, after what feels like two hours, the hand strikes five. "Yes!" I sprint to the door, locking it before anyone else can come in. A few days ago, an older entitled snob entered before I could get to the door. She demanded I help her find some items for her house and refused to leave. No matter how hard I insisted. Two hours went by and my husband showed up looking for me. If it wasn't for him I most likely would've been there all night. When we got home, I realised I had ruined a surprise date night he had planned for us.

The mark on my arm is a reminder. Stay on top of everything, close on time and never be late again.

The summer air brushes against my skin as I stroll through the town. It's 5 pm, the sun still shines bright in the sky, and everyone has come out to play. Beautiful couples walking hand in hand, packing on the PDA as if they were the only two in the world. Busy shop owners thankfully closing and ready to enjoy their weekend. And the best, kids who have just turned of age ready to show they can take on the world and handle anything. Their faces so bright and their laughs are contagious. I can't help but feel just a little envious, what I would give to just be free one more time.

As the clubs and bars open one by one, I resist the urge to call the girls, Sophie and Shay. Years have passed, and not one of us has even stepped foot into a club. Not that we were the girls who partied the night away, we still put on makeup and wore heels that cut up our feet for that one special occasion.

Passing by many characters, some familiar and some new, I find my car in an empty lot. Before driving away, I send a text to my husband, telling him I'm on my way home and I'll see him soon. Making sure I add the three kisses I press send.

Ten minutes later I come home to a very dark and empty house. It's a moment of peace, time for me to shower, open a bottle of wine and sink into the sofa with nothing to stop me.

I drag myself upstairs, my legs becoming heavy the higher I climb, the aches and pains pulsing through my body. I tremble at the top of the staircase, the memories of last week fly around in my brain. The reason the black and yellow marks made their graceful appearance for me to hide. I push myself up the last step, running to the bathroom and shutting myself in.