I head into my bedroom and hear Chris snoring softly in our king-size bed. I’m still angry, and I don’t want to sleep with him after what happened tonight, but even if Michael wasn’t taking up the only other place to sleep, I wouldn’t. Because, inevitably, Chris will wake up during the night having one of his nightmares, screaming out my name. When I’m beside him, he’s okay. His nightmares are so cruel, and me not sleeping with him would be piling on that cruelty. There have been so many times over the last couple of months where I have almost packed my bags, headed for the train station to escape somewhere, anywhere I could start up a new life and not feel these walls closing in on me. But I know in my heart of hearts I could never do that to Chris. Despite the way I feel, I still love him with every fibre of my fucking being.
Once I’m ready for bed, I slip under the duvet and lie wide awake staring at the ceiling in the dark. All I can hear is Chris’s steady breathing, and despite all my misgivings, everything in that moment is as it should be.
Because I love him.
Because I’m lonely.
Because I’m fucked up.
Because. I. Am. Sick.
The next morning I wake up, shower, and dress without a single peep from either Chris or Michael. Even when I make myself coffee, the loud machine chortling away, neither of them stirs.
I stick to a routine as routine is what helps keep me from going insane. Routine is my best friend.
7:45 a.m., the alarm wakes me up. I’m in the shower and dressed by 8:05. At 8:10, I switch the kettle on and start applying makeup while I wait for it to boil. By 8:30, coffee and makeup done which allows me ten minutes to sit in silence and enjoy my coffee as I think about what the day may bring. At 8:40, I leave my flat and drive to work. By 8:55, depending on traffic that morning, I am always there.
The first thing I notice when I walk in is the naked lady missing. “Morning,” I sing as I spot Charlie manoeuvring one of the mahogany writing desks.
Charlie waits till he’s happy with the replacement, which I don’t mind as it gives me a full-eyed view of his pert bottom currently winking my way.
He spins to face me, and for a moment, my eyes forget to remind themselves that his bottom isn’t in view anymore before I look up. I clear my throat, unable to ascertain whether he’s caught me staring or not, considering he has such a poker face.
“The naked lady’s gone.”
“I delivered it to Freddy last night, just as I told you I would. He was disappointed, and I quote, ’that it was my ugly mug that delivered it, instead of the beauty that pretties my crappy antique store’ unquote.”
A fit of giggles erupts. It’s funny, but even funnier when the person telling it is so calm and completely unaffected by what he’s saying.
“Fancy a cuppa?” he asks, once my giggles have subsided.
“Would I ever!” I reply, feeling chirpy now that my day is about to begin.
Charlie disappears in back towards the kitchen without another word. I wish I had just the tiniest of glimpses into that man’s head. I wonder if I would be shocked by what I’d find?
Musing on that, I drop my bag behind the counter and put my coat up before taking my usual seat. There are no customers yet, but the first couple of hours are normally quiet.
Five minutes later, a steaming cup of tea is placed in front of me. I glance behind me, noting the intimacy now that he’s leaning over me. I get a whiff of his musky scent, breathing it in as much as I can before he retreats away from me.
“Thank you,” I say, once I get my bearings back.
“You’re welcome.”
No smile. Nothing. Just a polite response back. I try and think of something to say. Anything in order to strike up some sort of conversation with him. I take in my surroundings, the old cream walls, the dusty, old, red patterned rug on the floor, the big, wooden display cabinet blocking the light from coming in the window at the back of the store.
“Have you ever thought of redecorating this place?”
“Redecorate?” he asks, causing me to turn to him.
I take a sip of my tea before responding. “It looks a bit old, don’t you think?”
For the first time ever, Charlie does something that shocks the hell out of me. He laughs. It’s deep, booming—so much so it hits straight to my loins. “What?” I ask, with an amused smile.
His head turns down, one eyebrow raised like he’s mocking me. “It’s an antique store, Bri. It’s supposed to look old.” My cheeks instantly flame. He then turns and walks into the back, his laughter continuing.
Well, that was embarrassing. Way to look stupid in front of your boss!
Soon after, a new customer comes in, and I’m glad to have the distraction for a while. Luckily, the lady customer buys a few trinkets: a Victorian emerald broach, a 1920s vintage style flapper dress, and some pearls. The lady, only in her early twenties and studying here at university for her nursing degree, animatedly tells me of her two years so far and the patients that she’s met. During the first few minutes with her, I am enthralled by her excitement. But then it dawns on me. This was supposed to be me.
Nursing was always something I had an interest in. I like taking care of people. Maybe a little too much—hence the reason why I’m stuck in this life with no way out. I studied on my own for a long time between jobs as I couldn’t afford the fees for university. I watched YouTube videos and used pigs’ feet, chicken breasts, and even peaches to practice stitching. Fortunately, or unfortunately, I’ve had to use my skills on a number of occasions when Chris’s mates got stabbed or shot by rival gangs from nearby areas. Suddenly, all my years of studying and practicing skills on my own were put to good use. You could say it was fate. None of them could go to see doctors with their injuries as the staff would probably be required to alert the police. At least this way I’m keeping everyone close to Chris alive. Well, so far anyway.
When Chris came into my life and he started making shit loads of money, I asked myself why I wasn’t using the money to start my university career. The short and very lazy answer is: I’m exhausted. Apart from my job here, Chris takes up most of my other time. I guess one could say I am stuck in a rut. One would be right. I’ve lived this life for such a short period of time, and yet it seems like I’ve been here forever.
A couple of hours go by, and my stomach starts to rumble, so I ask Charlie if he wants anything from the café. He replies that he would like a bacon and egg roll, then hands me a tenner to pay for both our breakfasts. By now I’ve learnt not to argue with Charlie over money.
With the shop being watched over by Charlie, I make my way across the road to the local café. As per usual, it’s packed with locals munching on their full-English breakfasts. The smell of fried bacon hits me the moment I walk into the café, making my stomach churn with hunger.
John, the owner of the place, is alerted to the door opening and glances up. When he spots it’s me, his smile widens.
“Bri, what do I owe the pleasure? Your usual?”
I approach him, acknowledging some locals I recognise on the way. “Yes, please, John. I’m starvin’! Also, can you do us a bacon and egg roll as well, please?”
John nods his head with a wink. “Coming right up, darlin’.”