Page 35 of No Safe Place
His OCD had always manifested in numbers. Even when it cropped up in other forms – contamination during the pandemic, harm OCD after his nan died – the numbers and the counting were always there.
Number six? Good.
Number nine? Bad bad bad.
Lily blinked, trying to pay attention.
‘I will work on leaving the house, but if I can concentrate enough towrite –if I can get back on a computer.’
Lily made a noise of agreement.
Some of the sticky on the side of the bottle came off under her nail.
‘Look at Andy, look at Sam.’ He licked his lips again. ‘If they can do it, I can.’
Lily didn’t rise to the bait of that sentiment.
Callum nodded, firmly. ‘I’m getting there, I really am. Aren’t I?’
Lily looked past him, to the patch of darker wallpaper where the clock used to be, and didn’t answer. ‘I need to go to bed.’
She pushed herself to standing, swayed a little.
Detour to the kitchen. She glugged a pint of water, refilled the glass.
She could hear Callum yelling at Alexa, cursing her for misunderstanding his song choice.
They’d given up on playing records, because they were too pissed to get up and change them. Cal had finally shut the windows, so they could blare music through Alexa.
Alexa was a godsend as Callum’s fear of numbers got worse. It was how he searched Google, got the news, played music, the radio – all without ever seeing a keypad.
She was on her way to say goodnight, when the song finally played.
Lily froze in the dining room doorway, her stomach plummeting into her socks.
‘Remember this?’ he asked, smiling.
It was an old song.
A song they’d sing on summer road trips with the windows down.Theirsong.
‘Cal—’
He didn’t hear her. He had his eyes closed, swaying and mouthing the words.
Those familiar chords tore something open in her chest.
‘Alexa – next,’ she snapped. The song changed, to something she didn’t recognise.
Cal looked down at his hands, pulling a face that suggested he found the exchange comically awkward.
Anger, always close to the surface when she was pissed.
‘Don’t play that,’ Lily said, wanting him to react. Wanting listening to it to hurt him, like it hurt her.
Cal stretched, eyeing the empty Jameson’s bottle. ‘We’re going to have to start on the Advocaat.’
The happy bubble of the evening had burst. She was tired, woozy and she wanted to fade into sleep.
