Page 32 of Pride
Feeling intrigued, I started to tap out my response.
I didn’t expect to hear from you again. What can I help you with?
I pressed send before I could second-guess myself. Maybe it’d come across as rude, but I was telling the truth. I hadn’t expected to hear from him, not after this morning’s debacle.
Why wouldn’t you hear from me?
He responded instantly.
Did you see the article in today’s paper?
I replied. I watched as the three dots danced to show Alex was writing a response.
I did. And I thought you might need a friend. That maybe I could help. Are you free to visit Sunford tomorrow, at two?
I stared at my phone, not sure how to react.
Could I trust him?
As I toyed with my conscience and curiosity,curiosity won out and I decided to throw caution to the wind.
I’ll be there at two
I replied, and when Dan said a little too enthusiastically, “What’s startled you now? Is he stalking you again? Do you have more material for another story?” I realised I was sitting there with a shocked look on my face, staring at my phone.
“I’m glad you think my misery is excellent fodder for the newspaper,” I replied, shoving my phone back into my bag.
Dan screwed his face up. “If you’re not chasing a story twenty-four-seven, what’s your point for being here?” He stuck his nose in the air and turned back to his computer screen.
“Not everything is about that,” I said quietly, knowing he couldn’t really hear, but wanting to say it anyway. “Some things are more important than getting ahead. I have pride, you know.”
He didn’t reply, and I didn’t have time to pander to him. I had a shitty boss, a killer poet trolling me, and a rich guy messaging me. I had more than enough on my plate. Catty colleagues would have to wait in line for me to give a shit.
As everyone filedout of the office at the end of the day, I checked my emails one last time. Thankfully, I hadn’t received anything else fromhim. So I closed my computer down and got ready to leave.
I glanced at my phone as I headed out. No messages either. I felt a little disappointed. Alex Kingston intrigued me, I couldn’t lie. And getting the messages from him today had eased the sting from the fallout of the latest article.
The train home was crowded as usual, and I stood in the aisle, holding onto the rail to stop myself from falling. When it reached my stop, I got off, like I did every day, and walked the short distance to my road. Then, I looked up as I strolled down the short, uneven path to my door. All so mundane, so normal, and yet, it didn’t feel normal today. Something felt off. And after the day I’d had, I was on my guard.
My house was an end of terrace. The lights from my neighbour Ethel’s living room next door lit up the dark path, and I could hear her television, which was always too loud, playing the quiz shows she liked to watch while she ate her dinner. The house next to hers belonged to a young, recently married couple called Meg and Charlie Howard. And on the opposite end, lived some random guy that I’d never spoken to. A loner that no one really knew. I think his name was Bill or Bob. He kept himself to himself. Had done for years, which suited me just fine. But I was relieved I lived next to Ethel. As neighbours go, she was a good one. She was home all day and watched over the road like a hawk. She was probably watching me right now as I stepped up to my front door and put the key in the lock.
I pushed the door that led straight into my living room open and turned the lights on, and I gasped when I saw a small cardboard box sitting in the middle of my coffee table.
That hadn’t been there when I left this morning.
How the fuck did it get there?
Fuck.
This wasn’t good.
My feet were rooted to the spot, and my heart pounded in my chest as I stared at it. Then, like a fool, I called out ‘hello’. I don’t know why. It wasn’t like a murderer or a killer poet slash artist was going to answer me and say hi back or pop out from the shadows to introduce himself.
I glanced quickly at the ground to see if the postman had put a card through the letterbox, perhaps to tell me he’d tried to deliver a parcel while I was out. Maybe Ethel took it from him, then left it here. She did have a key in case of emergencies. But she’d never used it. She always kept my parcels at her house until I got home.
In all honesty, I knew something bad was about to happen. I had that sixth sense tapping away at my brain, so I decided to back out of the house and go straight to Ethel’s.
I rang her doorbell and heard her shuffling about inside. Then she opened the door and gave me a kind smile. The warm scent of her home-cooked dinner wafted over me, but even that couldn’t calm my nerves.
