For Your Eyes Only: HS

21. Been Away For Ages

Luckily for me, I don't find London boring in the slightest. These past few days I've been shopping (or rather, window shopping, since I'm now low on cash) and exploring. But I'm also always good with watching TV back at the hotel, even if the room does reek of dead fish. And so that's what I'm doing today. 

There's been a show that's been on all day, I'm guessing playing old episodes and not new ones, and it's call Holby City. I had never heard of it before, but I've completed six episodes already and I'm addicted. It's not even a good show or anything, nothing special, but it's so hard to stop watching and reminds me of the trashy dramas from home - like Neighbors or Home and Away. 

Ok, I'm homesick. That's the first time I'm actually taking enough time to admit it to myself.

I'm kind of hating myself because I'm not out an making the most of London while I can, but I can't help it. I miss my mum and her partying ways. I really miss my sister, and I know that she'll be missing me too. We fight like bloody cat and dog but we love each other and we're never apart for more than a couple of days. 

And it's been more than a couple of days.

I gave her my new mobile number but she hasn't really been texting me much. Is she angry with me? Is she upset that I've left her with dad and Sally? Is she back living with mum? See, I have no idea.

And I'm starting to feel really far away from everyone. That's probably because I am, but I'm trying to push that out of my brain too.

"You're an independent woman, Miller. Keep it together," I say aloud to myself, feeling a tear trickle down my cheek. 

Oh, for fuck's sake. I need to pick up my act.

I'm so weak.

My crying then turns into a mixture of laughing hysterically and coughing from the dust that has risen from my movements. Where did that even come from? God, this is crazy. I'm crazy.

Amidst this, my phone begins to ring, interrupting my mental breakdown as well as an extremely climactic scene in Holby City. I don't know the characters' names yet but there has been a steamy kiss between two doctors and I know that can't end well. 

Without even checking the caller ID, I answer the call and bring it up to my ear. 

"It's Mil--" I begin, but I'm straight away interrupted by loud shouting.

"You better get your fucking tiny dick back here, James, or I'm seriously going to have t' call Cyd and have her come get you herself. Our conversation is not fucking done, you prick. Do you realize that? Jesus fucking Christ..." It's a female with an extremely thick cockney accent, and, yes, I've in fact gone deaf. I have no clue who this woman is, nor do I know who James or Cyd are. 

I consider hanging up, but she might try calling this number again, and I'd rather just get rid of her now. In the nicest way possible of course.

Before she surely begins speaking again (due to the lack of dialogue on my end of course), I open my mouth to speak. "I'm sorry, I think you have the wrong number."

"Who the fuck are you?! No fucking way, you're sleeping with James, aren't you. Jesus, I knew he was cheating, that little bastard!" The woman is laughing, however there is is no evidence of humor in her laugh whatsoever. She must have an extremely dysfunctional relationship with this 'James'. But then again, who am I to judge. I'm the one with snot falling from my nose whilst watching Holby bloody City. 

"No--I, I have no idea who James is, I'm sorry you've called the wrong number, " I tell her, preparing for more extreme cussing. I may swear a lot, or I thought I did, but this lady takes it to another level.