Beth was struck by a sudden urge to hide it. Should she? Like anyone in a relationship, Beth yearned for hers to be open and honest, built on a foundation of trust. But what would she say to him at this point? She at least needed more information, more context, before she presented the list to him. Lest he think she was being crazy. Josh saw the world in such certain terms. The list would either be an issue in his eyes or something to completely disregard. Beth couldn’t risk being influenced by his steadfastness until she knew more. He wouldn’t entertain her questions, that wasn’t his style.
She gnawed on the inside of her cheek, stomach swirling with indecision. Could she just discard it? Throw it in the bin, forget all about it? Her mind was a machine gun, launching rapid-fire questions. She drew a breath and the door to the house creaked open.
Josh strode into the kitchen, looking harassed.
‘Bloody typical,’ he muttered to himself, shaking his head.
‘Hey,’ Beth straightened in the doorway and pulled her lips into a welcoming smile. ‘What are you doing back home again?’ Her voice pitched higher, ‘Everything okay?’
‘Forgot my lunch, didn’t I?’ Josh replied with a grunt as he thrust open the silver door of the fridge and stooped to grope inside it.
‘Oh.’ The list sat there. On the table. Out in the open.
‘What time are you going in?’ Plastic lunch box in hand, Josh straightened and looked over at her. Already his T-shirt was dirtied with dust and grime, his jeans spattered with paint.
‘Umm.’ Beth pushed a hand through her damp hair. He’d asked her a question. A direct one. A simple one. Yet it was taking a herculean effort to think of anything other than the list on the table. Had he seen it yet? Would he see it? ‘Six.’ She furrowed her brow. ‘I’m on close tonight, so not in until six.’
‘Right, okay.’ Josh nodded. His six-foot-three frame seemed to completely fill the small kitchen. In fact, any room he stood in within their terraced home felt dwarfed by his presence.
This was the point where he should leave, get back in his van and return to work. Beth should be waving him off, smiling sweetly. But she couldn’t do that. This was Josh, her Josh. Josh who would hold her in the small hours of the night as she trembled away the last fragments of a terrible nightmare. If the list was an issue, then he needed to know about it. Beth knew that he’d just want to protect her – that was his default reaction to anything. She relented.
‘Before you go.’ She stepped closer to the table, smelling the musk of building materials that clung to Josh. ‘I found something strange when I was out jogging this morning.’
‘Strange?’ His thick eyebrows pulled together. ‘If it’s anything rank, I’ve told you to just leave it where it is. The guys at work are always joking that people go dogging in the woods near here.’
‘No, no, nothing like that. This …’ Beth leant towards the table and grabbed the article in question, unfolded the piece of paper and passed it to her boyfriend. He clutched it with the tips of his fingers silently. ‘It … it was just on the ground towards the back of the woods, tucked under a fallen tree. I mean, it’s weird, right?’
‘Your name is on here.’ He looked quizzically between Beth and the list he was holding.
‘I know. And those … those other names mean nothing to me.’
‘And it was in the woods?’
‘Uh-huh. Almost completely hidden beneath a fallen tree trunk.’
‘Weird.’ He handed the note back to her. ‘What do you think it means?’
‘I’ve no idea.’
There was no longer any urgency to Josh’s movements, all thoughts of returning to work abandoned. ‘Was anyone around when you picked it up?’
‘Not that I saw.’
‘And this was the only note you found?’
‘Yep, that’s it. Just the one.’
‘Shit, Beth, that’s weird.’
Beth nodded.
‘Think it’s one of the little pricks at the cinema messing with you?’ Josh’s tone became hostile.
It was a conclusion Beth hadn’t considered, but it was plausible. She worked at her local cinema as a projectionist and was much older than a lot of her front-of-house colleagues, often still in college or university. They certainly enjoyed playing pranks on one another but had never included Beth before. She was the mature one in the group and they kept a respectful distance from her. Everyone except her manager, Colin. He was just a year younger than Beth, married with three kids and paying off an extortionate mortgage he loved to lament about whenever he had the chance.
‘I mean, I guess it could have been someone at work.’
‘I wouldn’t put it past them,’ Josh grumbled, nostrils flaring. ‘Some of them are right brats. I wish you’d get a proper job, Beth.’
Proper job.
The flippant remark cut into her, piercing with its damning truth.
‘You’re so smart,’ Josh would comment during those first heady days of living together, when their relationship was as new and untarnished as their little home. ‘Do you really want to load film reels for the rest of your life? You could be so much more, Beth.’
She had dreams and aspirations, sure. But all the doors which led to them had been closed to her a long time ago. Besides, the cinema suited her. It was dark up in the projection rooms. Safe. She could drift along the corridors, move from theatre to theatre without being bothered. She felt like the Phantom of the Opera, always out of sight, and she liked it that way. Let her younger peers deal with the public, with the filling of popcorn buckets and tearing of ticket stubs.
‘Well, don’t dwell on it,’ Josh advised as he tucked his lunch box under his arm. ‘And if it is one of those acne-ridden little pricks, then I need you to write up a list of names of your own.’
‘Josh––’
‘They’d literally shit a brick if I showed up on their doorstep with some of my boys. And they wouldn’t try and freak you out again. Little bastards. I hate the way they’re always looking down on you, just because the cinema is some pit stop on their grand tour to becoming wankers with degrees. You’re the sweetest, kindest person I know, you deserve to work with people who respect you.’ He stepped forward to lean down and plant the whisper of a kiss on her forehead.
‘Have a good afternoon at work.’
‘I’ll try and be home before six.’ He kissed her again. ‘I love you.’
No matter how many times she heard it, its power never faded. She’d often cocoon herself in the sentiment, fold it around her like a warm towel long after Josh had left. She was smiling as she waved goodbye.
‘I love you too.’
I repeat the names to myself as I stand beneath a tepid trickle of water each morning. I let them roll off my tongue, bounce off the tiles crusted with black mould and echo back to me. They are familiar to me now, woven so tightly into memory that they can never be unpicked. But, once, they had been new. Strange.
My search for names had led me to Roger’s door, as I’d always suspected it would. In the lazy haze of twilight, his olive door had creaked open and he’d peered out at me. First came surprise, his pupils widening. Then his jaw began to quiver with fear.