Page 51 of Sad Girl Hours
The scare/thrill of nearly getting caught has made me feel less like crying. Less like anything really. I just feel empty.
“To which question?”
“Both. I’m fine.”
“Saffron.” I can hear the soft italics in the way she says my name.
“Really.” I turn away from her. “I’m good. Now, we should probably—”
I push on the door. It remains very much locked.
Oh, God.
“Ah.” Nell comes over to give it a go and achieves the same result. She scans the door. There’s a keyhole but no key.
“Bit ironic really,” Nell says casually, slapping the door once and then stepping back to just stare at it. “We did pay to be locked in. And now we’re more locked in than we actually were in the dungeon.”
She’s trying to make light of the situation, but I’m not feeling very light. This is pretty much the last thing I wanted.
“I can see the irony,” I say. “But I’m not sure I’m enjoying it as much as you.”
“Ahh, come on,” Nell says. “We’ll figure this out. I’ll just—” She tugs her phone out of her suit pocket. “Oh. No service or data. Should have expected that really. We are in a dungeon.”
I glance at mine. The same. No service. No data. Oh,God.
Nell sees the panic in my expression. “It’ll be OK. We’ll just listen out for someone coming, then we’ll bang on the door and fess up to our crimes. I’m sure someone’ll be along again shortly.”
But half an hour later and we’ve not heard a sound, apart from a distant scream from the hall.
“They must have turned the lights off again,” Nell notes from the floor. She’s made herself comfy against a stack of blue roll in the corner. “Come sit. We can listen just as well from here.”
“No, thank you,” I say. “I’ll stay here.”
“Whatever.” Nell shrugs. There are ten glorious/infuriating seconds of silence before she talks again.
“Have I done something?” She’s quieter now. “Because I’m sorry if I have. But I can’t fix it if you don’t talk to me.”
“Done something?” I’m aware my voice is bordering on incredulity as I stare down at her. “What would you have done?”
“Well, I don’t know,” Nell says. “That’s kind of the point. But you’ve missed all our plans; you didn’t answer my messages. You’ve barely spoken to me all evening. It’s a lot of weird coincidences if I haven’t upset you somehow.”
I definitely don’t feel numb any more. My stomach wrenches itself into a sailor’s knot and I feel more trapped than ever. “You’ve not done anything.”
“Right.” Her expression betrays how little she believes me.
I sit on the ground in front of her. “Nell,” I say, making sure my voice is sturdy with sincerity, “you’ve not doneanything. I promise.”
Her disbelief fades into something gentler. “Then what is it? And don’t say ‘nothing’ because we both know that’s not true.”
I stare down at my hands in my lap. I don’t know what to say, what Icansay.
“Saffron, I love you—”
The words tug the knot inside me tighter from both ends.
“—you’re one of my best friends in the world. I want you to be able to tell me things. Like why you’ve been acting differently recently.”
“I’m sorry,” I say automatically and guiltily.
