Now You See Me

Forty-Four: Packed In

I didn't even get halfway through the sandwich before beginning to feel sick. Thea glanced up when I stood to leave, but said nothing as I walked out and up the stairs towards my room. I planned to read or something to take my mind off things, but when I took up the book off the bedside table my mind wandered and the words began to blur in front of me. It was only when I'd read the same line about four times that I gave up and settled back to stare out of the window. Something caught my eye as I turned, tucked into the shelf part of the bedside unit with only the corner sticking out. I reached for it, and pulled out the photo album that had become almost taboo over the last few weeks.

Even then I was tempted to drop it and kick it under the bed so I didn't have to think about it. The covering plastic warped my silhouette in the light from the window in a vaguely grotesque manner as I toyed with the cover. It creaked as I flipped it open.

I wasn't sure whether I'd been labouring under the impression that something terrible was going to happen when I opened it or not, but I was relieved when nothing did. I began to look through pages I hadn't dared to look at for fear of finding some photo from Vashde to taunt me, but none were there aside from the ones I'd already seen.

I stared at each image, almost separate from myself. I was still turning over Chris's words in my head, trying to match up events and discern some kind of truth. At one point I became vaguely aware that I needed a bath, but I found myself slipping into sleep instead. The album dropped to the floor as I lay down, suddenly exhausted, and the arms of another memory reached up to catch me as I fell.

-

I glance at the clock. I've been stacking shelves for the past two hours, and my arms are aching and my back feels like it'll never be straight again.

The excitement is almost making me itchy.

There's only five minutes left, and then I'm free for four weeks. I hadn't been able to duck out of this particular shift, unfortunately, and I'd left Chris with the packing at lunchtime, which in hindsight is a really stupid idea. He's going to forget something, and it would be just my luck if it was my underwear.

A couple of people wave goodbye as I rush out of the shop at the end of the shift, but I barely acknowledge it. I feel so happy to be free of the job for a month that's tempting to hand in a resignation on the spot, but then I think of Chris surrounded by suitcases and worry takes over. Tori is little better, and I know she's supposed to be turning up at the flat at the same sort of time as me, so the disaster won't be averted that way.

I'm feeling very stupid as I get on the underground.

"I'm not finished," Chris says, the moment he opens the door and sees me. He looks like a deer caught in headlights.

"Not finished, or made a huge mess? Or both?"

"Both." He looks away and steps aside so I can get into the flat.

Our room is a bombsite. I turn back to stare at him incredulously, but he's still not looking my way.

"Chris..." I say slowly, "Did you actually pack anything, or did you just unpack my entire bedroom?"

At this he gets defensive, and comes towards me to stare over the mess with affected casualness. "There's stuff in the suitcases, see?"

"Oh, Jesus," I sigh, picking my way through piles of plastic bags and assorted garments to get to the bed, on which lies two large suitcases with two or three items apiece inside. "Why didn't you wait for me to come back?"

"I forgot when you finished," he says, shame-faced. "And I was worried that we'd get behind for tomorrow if I left it."

I put my work bag down and begin to pull my uniform off, rolling my eyes. There's a clean shirt of mine lying conveniently close to me, so I grab that to put on instead. Before my head is out of the neck hole, I feel his arms close around my waist. I pull myself through and rest there, my arms cradled in the bunched-up sleeves, leaning back against him.