Page 6 of Summer at Harbour View House
A sudden aching loneliness overcame her. She’d never really thought about it before, but now that she did, she realised she didn’t have any friends she could call up for a coffee or a dinner date, or even a chat. Falling into modern world trappings, she’d kept in contact with old university and school friends via a variety of apps on her phone, but actual face-to-face contact was rare. She was friendly with a couple of teachers, but it was the last week of term and everyone was flat out busy.
There weren’t many options left, so she decided to call her mother.
Her parents didn’t have mobile phones, just an old dial phone which had one of the rubber feet missing, and would shudder its way to the edge of the telephone table if it went unanswered too long. As she waited for someone to answer, Natasha wondered how close it was getting, and whether she’d soon hear that familiar call failure sound which meant the phone had pitched over the side. She didn’t know why they’d never fixed it. Perhaps, in their passive way, it was a way to inject a little masochism into their quiet retirement days.
‘Hello?’
It wasn’t her mother or father, but her sister, Bethany. Unaware that her sister actually did anything more than lay on her bed in the dark, playing the video games that most people had either grown out of by twenty-nine or compartmentalised enough that they could make more productive use of their time, Natasha found herself momentarily speechless.
‘If that’s you, Terry, you weirdo—’
‘No, it’s not Terry, it’s me. Natasha.’
‘Oh, Nat. Sorry, I thought it was this guy who’s been trolling me online. I think he must have scraped Mum’s number.’
‘I was just wondering—’
‘Oh, Mum and Dad told me about the fire. That’s brutal. Did you get any burns?’
‘No, I … ah … didn’t even see it until I was outside. I thought someone downstairs had burned their dinner.’
‘Must have been quite a life event. Did you get pics?’
‘Ah, no. I left my phone behind.’
‘Are you serious? Like, how are you still alive?’
‘Possibly because I left my phone behind.’
‘Wow, mental. Anyway, I’ve got to get back. Mum and Dad are out. Did you want something?’
A place to live, a decent home-cooked meal, a boyfriend, a shoulder to cry on, a few spare clothes, and a bed which wasn’t made so tightly that it hurt her feet to push them under the covers every night—
‘No, it’s all right. I just rung up for—’
The phone line went dead. Natasha tried to pretend that her parents’ house had just been hit by a meteorite or blown away by a tornado, but the truth was that her little sister had just hung up on her. It was nothing new, but today it felt worse than usual.
Natasha sighed. Life sucked. At least the room was comfortable, if bland. And in a few days, when the term ended, she could go back home to her parents’ for a while … or maybe not. Perhaps, in a few days, when her savings ran out, she would wander up the road to the park, find a dry spot under a park bench, and lie down.
Life sucked.
Her phone rang. Unused to the trill ring of the little pay-as-you-go, she found herself reminded so much of the fire alarm that had begun this nightmare that her heart started to thunder, and it took a few seconds to get control of herself enough to pick up the phone and answer.
‘Hello?’
‘Natasha?’
‘Yes? Is this—’
‘Hannah. Sorry to call like this, but—’
'How did you get this number?’
‘I called your parents. I spoke to someone, a girl. Your sister? Sorry, but—’
‘You called myparents?’
‘Yes. She gave me this number.’
