As I waited in line to board the plane I was oddly hoping Sal would turn up. Like in the movies... he'd see my note and chase down the airport and tell me he loves me... but that didn't happen.
As I boarded the plane, I was sat next to a woman and her child. All I was thinking about was Sal. How did I even get into this argument with him. Why did I lash out at Q?! I had so many regrets with the mess I left behind.
Meanwhile, Sal crept down the stairs of his house. All the curtains were closed, and it was very dark inside. He noticed the envelope he had sent to me, laying in front of his door. He ran downstairs and picked it up. He opened up the envelope and read what I had wrote. His hand glided over what I had wrote for him. Sal bought it into the kitchen and placed it in the table. He stared at it intently until he brushed it onto the floor.
7 Hours Later...
I wheeled my suitcases up a long hill in Surrey, which should lead to my cottage. I looked around as I saw the meadows. There were cute cottages scattered around. I finally reached the mid-way point of the hill which was where my cottage was. I set my suitcase on the hill as I admired my new home. I carefully opened the squeaky gate which has 'Rose Hill Cottage' written on a wooden plaque on the front of the gate.
I opened the oak-wood front door to reveal a cozy looking house. I paid extra for the shippers to hire people to set the furniture up for me. Therefore it looked like a home when I walked in. It was cozy and small, which was perfect for me.
I walked into the kitchen which had a cute stove, the little round table and a few cupboards. The living room was pretty small too. A big fire place, a coffee table, a television, a book shelf which had no hooks on... yet.
Upstairs in my room had a wardrobe, bed and a few drawers. It was an ensuite too. I had one spare room which I might turn into a writing room.
I spent most of the afternoon unpacking. Placing a few books onto the dusty bookshelf, unpacking my photo graphs. I placed the one of me and Sal in the centre of the fireplace. I then saw the time was only 5 o clock.... 1 o clock in New York time. As it was beginning to be a cold autumn here, I lit the fireplace and decided to read a book. As I scanned the bookshelf for a good book I finally chose one and spent the evening reading.
Meanwhile, in America, Sal was sat alone in his house. He kept the curtains closed and didn't open the door to let anyone in. Sal was driving himself crazy by looking at the note I sent back to him. Wishing he had done something- anything.
Joe and Murr knew there was something that happened between Q and Sal. They both refused to talk to each other- but Sal seemed worst off. He wasn't answering the door or his phone, or letting anyone see him. Murr and Joe decided to drag them together without them knowing. Joe went to talk to Q, whilst Murr went over to Sals.
When Murr got there he knocked on the door for a good 10 minuets until he gave up. Murr tried to look through the window, but he couldn't see anything. He then slumped himself beside Sals front door, then cracked open the letter box.
"Sal- let me in. I'm worried about you" Murr said.
"Go away!" He heard a weak voice shout back.
"Sal... what's wrong. You can tell me!" Murr begged. There was no reply.