Page 2 of Ms Perfectly Fine
“You don’t need another year. You’ve been hiding long enough,” she told herself. She’d worked too hard to let her demons take over, especially when she was so close. The Spring Showcase was her comeback to the solo stage. She had spent the last few years in the orchestra, hidden and safe, but she was ready for the next challenge. She owed it to herself—and to Mollie, who was now nothing more than a shadow in her nightmares. Autumn’s fingers grazed her neck, feeling the sorrow of calling out for her friend in the dream. A call that would go unanswered forever.
Tears welled in her eyes, but she rubbed them away.
“One day at a time. Breakfast and rehearsals—I can do that,” she said, looking into the mirror on the white dresser and pulling back her auburn fringe with a cat-eared headband. It was still cold, so she tugged on her fluffy striped socks and pulled her favourite lilac dressing gown around herself. The soft sensation helped her body relax.
One step at a time.The first few steps of the day were always the toughest, but once her muscles warmed up and relaxed, the pain sank into the back of her mind. Never completely gone, but easier to ignore.
Across the narrow landing in her mint-tiled bathroom, splashing water on her face washed away the last traces of her anxiety. The clock on the wall read seven a.m. She didn’t have a clock in her bedroom because hearing it tick on sleepless nights drove her insane.
Like clockwork.Her body was well used to her rigid schedule even though for today’s rehearsal, she didn’t have to get up for another hour.It’s my turn to pick up the coffee order for everyone. I should have plenty of time,she thought while she brushed her teeth.
Suddenly, her feet tingled.That’s a new sensation.The ground tiles shook, and she realised it wasn’t her body but her house that was vibrating.What the hell?She spat the toothpaste in the sink and hurried out of the bathroom to hear voices echoing up the staircase of the two-storey townhouse.
Uncle Tim? Did he order contractors to come in and forget to tell me?It wouldn’t be the first time he had forgotten to tell her about some work being done. Then again, she wasn’t in a position to complain—he’d rented the house to her at a more than charitable price since she’d first moved to the city. Tim called it a family discount, but he wasn’t really her uncle; he and Autumn’s father used to run an investment firm together before her parents settled in the country after her accident. When Autumn had got a job in Wickford six years ago, she couldn’t afford to live on her own, and she was too shy to live with others. She didn’t like people seeing her in pain. Not because she was ashamed, but because people—not all, but some—tended to treat her as though she were contagious. Tim’s offer had been a life-saver. It wasn’t like he needed the money; he owned most of the commercial property in Wickford.
Still, he could have given her some warning if he was going to do some renovations. He usually called to tell her.She went to her bedroom and looked for her phone to call him, but only her earphones and a book lay on her bedside table. Autumn groaned when she noticed her phone charger was also missing.I must have left it in the kitchen when I was practising.She rarely used her phone; she didn’t have social media, and her parents only rang on Fridays for their weekly check-in, when they tried to talk her into returning to the comfort of her library job in their small town of Islacore and away from the stage.
The banging intensified, forcing Autumn from her thoughts.Creeping downstairs, she went to peek at what was going on. She hated talking to people she didn’t know, but not as much as she didn’t like people in her house.
“Why do I get the feeling it’s going to be one of those days I regret getting out of bed?” she muttered, tightening the dressing gown around herself. She thought about getting dressed, but she didn’t want anyone coming upstairs while she was half-naked. She wouldn’t survive the mortification, and if she didn’t know why they were here, it was only rational to assume they didn’t know she was there.Tim must have given them a key to get in.
The vibration started again, but this time it was accompanied by faint drilling. She found her lavender front door wide open and two women coming out of her sitting room, carrying her couch in their arms. They wore matching uniforms, and she readWE MOVE IT SO YOU DON’T LOSE ITon their backs.At least they aren’t burglars…
“I don’t mean to be rude, but what are you doing in my house and with my furniture?” she asked.
The women only looked her over as though she was bothering them. “Sorry to disturb you—we were told the house would be empty,” one said.
Autumn’s jaw dropped.Who the hell told them I wouldn’t be here? It certainly wasn’t Tim. I’ve already paid him rent this month, and I’ve never mentioned moving out.She was so stunned, she almost missed the rest of what the blonde woman said.
“The owner told us to remove the furniture from the front room to make room for the desk and his bed. We shouldn’t be too much longer. Sorry to have disturbed you so early.” She said it as though the explanation should make perfect sense, but Autumn was even more confused.The desk—hisbed? Whose bed? Tim can’t be moving in.
“Please put my couch back where you found it. This ismyhouse. There is nohisanything,” Autumn said, trying to sound calm, placing her hand on the couch.
“Orders are orders. Take it up with the boss,” the other mover said, shoving past Autumn and bringing the couch down the steps of the terraced house.
Stomping towards the first-floor sitting room, Autumn found her TV covered in plastic wrap and the rest of her furniture already missing.Where is my furniture?she thought, taking a breath, trying not to let the sudden invasion of her home overwhelm her. Most of the panic was currently overridden by her confusion and desire to know what the hell was going on. A large desk with multiple monitors had taken its place, and the floor was littered with motorcycle helmets and what looked like Star Wars figurines.This stuff definitely doesn’t belong to Uncle Tim,she thought, looking from someone drilling holes in the wall to the block of shelves she guessed would house his figurines resting against the wall, ready to be put up. She fisted her hands as the drilling continued to grate on her nerves.Fucking sleeping pills. I must have slept through them coming in. The one time I take them!
A man in the same moving company’s overalls reached for her TV, and she placed a hand on his forearm.
“Don’t even think about it! Who owns all this?” she demanded. “Where are you taking my things?”
The older man looked at the strange belongings. “No need to be alarmed, miss. The boss told us to put the old furniture in his storage unit across town and bring the new in. We have a bigger TV in the van. No point in keeping this one,” he tried to reassure her. Over his shoulder, Autumn saw that the drilling was for not just shelves; speakers now hung from the corners of the ceiling.
“I don’t need a bigger TV. Can you please give me the name of who ordered you here?” she asked, then was distracted by a different man lifting her vintage stereo. She blocked his path, her arms extended, and he frowned. “Put that down, or you will regret the day you set foot in this house!”
Her words must have struck a chord because both men stepped away from her personal items and left the front room, but not before she noticed them exchanging annoyed glances.They think I’m being unreasonable!
Once she’d driven the contractors out, Autumn closed the door to the front room with a sigh of relief. At least some things were safe inside.The rest can be rescued,she figured, noting the two moving vans sitting outside her front door.
“We’re only trying to do our job, miss. If you have an issue, speak to the owner,” one of the men grumbled as they headed back to their van.
Autumn groaned in frustration.The owner? Whoever ‘he’ is isn’t the owner!She took a breath to collect her thoughts. “Excuse me, can I please ask where the owner of these belongings is?” she asked one of the workers who had just entered her home, carrying a coffee machine that looked far too complicated towards the kitchen.
“Follow me. Mr Wells is in the kitchen. Sorry about the lads—one of the girls told me you weren’t expecting us. I’m sure once you talk, you’ll have this whole matter sorted,” she answered, leading Autumn towards the kitchen with a glance at her cat headband. When the helpful mover turned, Autumn took off the ears and gritted her teeth in embarrassment.
Mr Wells? I’ve never heard Tim mention anyone by that name. There’s no way he sold the house while I’m still living in it.Autumn headed through the wood-floored hall to the open-plan kitchen.A man whom she guessed to be in his early thirties stood against her kitchen island with a phone to his ear, wearing a suit tailored so well to his build that it could almost be considered sinful. Autumn might have thought him attractive if he hadn’t invaded her home at dawn and furthered her misery on an already tough morning.
“Thank you for your help,” she whispered and waited for the mover to put down the coffee machine before she approached the stranger. “Mr Wells? Sorry to bother you, but could you please tell me why you are here in my home?” she asked, trying to sound reasonable.
