A Leap of Faith-a FREE to read COVID-19 love story (15+) COMPLETE

Sharper than a serpent's tooth...

Saturday, 11 April, 2020

"What do you want for lunch—thought I'd make today the day I tried that tempura recipe?" Tom inquired, his hand on the door handle. "That question in the food round put me in mind of it."

I winced. Last night's pub quiz hadn't shown me at my finest. And Tom's understanding of 'rubbish at general knowledge' diverged from mine. He managed all the sports questions, most of the history ones and the best part of every other round too.

My sole contribution was correctly identifying the year Kim Kardashian broke the internet with 'that' photo of her arse. Luckily for me, no-one had insisted on the downing a shot for every wrong answer clause. When we eventually left the Zoom chat, Tom tipped his head to one side. "Did you actually go to university, Sophie? What do they teach in those places?!"

My university years, particularly the last one and what took place not long afterwards, did not bring back fond memories. I laughed anyway. "Don't blame me. Didn't I warn you I was useless?"

Tom's friends were fun. Liam who joked about my age, challenging me to come up with all the answers in the history round seeing as "you must have lived through all this, isn't that right, Sophie?!" Another couple joined us, the woman insisting I take her on a guided tour of the house via webcam. (I only showed her half of the rooms, which left her wide-eyed in wonder anyway.) And an older guy Tom knew from the Post Office who asked me my name twice and who also showed an interest in the virtual tour.

I headed upstairs for a shower. As Tom's mission to feed me energy-dense food continued, I'd upped the number of Joe Wicks workouts I was doing. Thanks to a twenty-something metabolism and a job where he spent most of the day walking, calories didn't bother Tom in the least.

Shower finished and hair washed, my phone beeped. I gawped at the message, my skin crawling. How... I thought I'd blocked his email address, but here it was again—the day after Simon had dropped his name into a conversation too.

"Sophie, it must be that these strange times we're living in have made me take a long, hard look at myself and want to make amends. Would it be possible to—

No. I deleted the message. And just as I had regretted the move as soon as I'd done it last time, the same complicated emotions swirled around once again. I rang Arlene, a spur-of-the-moment bit of madness. As if she could counsel me through this whole complicated part of my past in ten minutes.

Sure enough, her phone went straight to voice mail. "This is Arlene. The office is closed but if you feel this is an emergency, please ring the on call mental health services on 0800—

I hung up. The idea of describing everything to a stranger appalled me.

Phone him... wouldn't it give me far greater peace of mind to find out the truth for once and for all instead of...

Beeeeeeeppppp!

The smoke alarm cut through my thoughts. Opening the bedroom door to the stink of burnt food, I hurried downstairs.

*****

Heart thudding and mind thoroughly rattled, I pushed open the kitchen door and took in the scene.

Carnage. Most of the time, I'd trained myself to stifle all objections to the mess Tom made when cooking. "It's good for you not to be so uptight about it," I told myself. Arlene's dreaded why questions frequently touched on why tidiness bothered me so much.

"I like the order of it. I find it soothing. Therapeutic, even."

Nowhere near enough of an answer for her. Why did I like the order? What was soothing about it? Why was it therapeutic...