Untouchable

Chapter 18

Ruth paced up and down her lounge. It was a bad day. She was in her onsie and fluffy socks, duvet wrapped around her, nose running from the cold she’d caught. She was hopeless ill, and most prone to attacks then as she couldn’t think that straight. Noah wouldn’t let her go to work, but he had gone. She just walked up and down the room, Lemsip, the vile drink, in her least favourite mug, but she still sipped at it, hoping it would make her feel better. She heard the postie come and drop letters through the post-box on the ground floor, three floors down. She groaned, dumped the duvet on her bed, placed the mug on the kitchen counter and wandered down the stairs. She sorted through the post, taking hers and Noah’s up with her. It was April, almost a year since Noah and Ruth had first met again and gone on their first date. So little, yet so much, had changed in that year. It was scary in a comforting way to Ruth. She was slowly moving all of her stuff over to Noah’s before her tenancy was up, and it made more sense for them to share that flat as his was the larger of the two. Ruth picked up the box of clothes that currently resided on her bedroom floor and dragged it across the hall. The pair were already looking for their own house to move into once the tenancy was up on Noah’s flat, another six months, but so far they’d had very little luck.

Noah’s landline rang on Ruth’s counter. She answered it just to shut it up, reluctantly lifting the phone to her ear.

                “Hello?” She asked reluctantly.

                “This is Fulfords Estate Agents and Letting Agents; we have some more houses for you to look at.” The woman on the other end said,

                “Noah Hardy’s at work at the moment, I’m his fiancée and can take the message.” Ruth said, wiping her nose.

                “I’ll email you the houses.” She said, Ruth heard typing at the other end and her phone buzzed. The company had both her and Noah’s email addresses.

                “I got them, thanks.” Ruth smiled, sniffing a little.

                “Let me know if you’re interested in anything.”

                “Will do.” The line went dead. Ruth walked into Noah’s flat, duvet around her, and booted her computer up and looked at the houses, one just around the corner from her parents, another just up the hill from their old school, both four bedroom houses, one with a study. Ruth sighed and turned her computer off, locked Noah’s flat up and collapsed on the sofa in her own flat and flicked the TV on. Her phone pinged at her, a Facebook message.

                “Hey, Ruth.” It was Cattie Laggard, a girl from school.

                “Hey, Cattie.” Ruth blew her nose as she sent the message.

                “You all okay?”

                “I feel gross and have a cold.”

                “Poor you. I heard that you and Noah finally got engaged.”

                “Yeah, last month. I haven’t heard off you in forever.”

                “I came looking for you nearly a year ago. You left the caravan park.”

                “Yeah, I got a job in Coop, then Sainsbury’s, and now Waitrose.”

                “Mum said you worked in Coop.”

                “I did until about this time last year, I’ve only just started at Waitrose.”

                “Working your way through supermarkets are we?”

                “Not intentionally, but they pay well enough. I don’t live at home anymore.”

                “That’s good!”

                “It’s a tiny flat, but better than nothing.” Ruth’s phone rang,

                “Gotta go, phone call.” She answered the call and smiled as Noah spoke.

                “You all okay, sweetheart?” Noah asked as he heard his phone connect.

                “I’m utterly exhausted and snotty and gross and not liking you, you disease carrier.” Ruth grumbled.

                “I’m sorry, RuRu, but I didn’t mean to give you a cold. You’ll get better soon anyway.”

                “I know, but iccy!”

                “Did Fulfords call?”

                “Yeah, a few new places, one near school, one near our parents, and some more outta the way.”

                “Go and have a bath, sweetheart.”

                “My place doesn’t have one.”

                “Well mine does, and you have a key; so go bath!” Ruth smiled, Noah grinned on the other end,

                “Fine.” Ruth complained, getting up, leaving her duvet on the sofa, and grabbed her dressing gown before she headed out across the hall, locking her flat up, and walked into Noah’s bathroom and ran a hot bath, helping to unclog her snotty nose. She took her many layers of clothes off and slid into the tub, letting the hot water and bubbles cover her sickened body. It soothed her aching chest muscles, sick of coughing all night, and the rest of her body felt a whole lot less abused while dipped in the hot bubble bath. She fell asleep, only waking up when Noah walked in. He shook her shoulder and her eyes opened a little, glaring at him. She shivered, realising the bath had gone cold. He pulled the plug, letting her wake up as the cold water drained away. He handed her a towel and helped her up. He sat her against the bath as she struggled to stay awake, and he dried her off before carrying her to his bed and laying her down in her onsie to sleep. He went and made himself a quick dinner while she slept, knowing she’d be out cold for the night now. He was glad he had made her stay home from work; Millie would have only sent her home. Noah placed his dishes in the dishwasher and heard the hoarse coughing of Ruth as she slept and sneezed. He felt truly sorry for his sick fiancée, wishing there was some way he could make her feel better than death on simmer.