Page 39 of Fireworks at Pennycress Inn
Forcing her eyes open, Polly pushed herself up to standing. She couldn’t sleep. Well, she could. She could sleep for an eternity the way she was feeling at the moment, but there was no chance she was about to let herself doze off when there was every possibility whoever had barged their way inside to lounge, eat pizza and do goodness knows what could come back at any moment. Nope, she needed to stay awake, which would be a good thing, because she had so much to do anyway.
Sleep could wait. She’d ask Stacey over to help later today if she wasn’t too hungover and she’d perhaps sneak in a quick nap at some point, but not whilst she was alone. Besides, she still had so much more to pack away. Yes, the china dolls had been a large part of what she assumed David was talking about when he said viewers were struggling to see past the décor and clutter, but that was far from the end of it. If she was going to prepare the flat as best she could for a viewing, then she might as well go the whole hog and pack up the rest of her grandparents’ belongings too.
And her own. Her bedroom, albeit being the box room, had both teenage paraphernalia stuffed in boxes beneath her bed and in her wardrobe, as well as knick-knacks she’d brought from her house-share with Stacey when she’d moved fleetingly in with Ben and then back in to care for her grandma. Yes, she was sure she must have broken some world record for the sheer amount of stuff that could fit into a box room whilst still allowing it to be useable.
Walking into the kitchen, she clicked on the kettle, not for the first time that evening wishing she’d thought to ask Zac to stop off at a garage on the way down here so she could grab some milk. Black coffee it was then. Again.
After she’d rinsed the mug she’d used earlier under the tap, Polly turned and caught sight of those darn pizza boxes sticking up out of the kitchen bin where she’d tidied them away. She shuddered. They served as a stark reminder of how vulnerable she felt at the moment and, for the first time since putting the flat on the market, she felt that she had made the right decision after all. If she stayed after this, she’d only be waiting for the next time some person decided to break in.
The kettle switched off, tearing her from her thoughts and making her jump. She couldn’t wait to get back to Pennycress Inn now. Pouring the boiling water, Polly shook her head. She was being daft. She was probably the safest she’d ever been at the flat before. The burglars had been, gone and wouldn’t be back now they knew there was nothing worth stealing. Bringing the mug to her lips she grimaced at the taste. No one?—
A loud knock rang through the flat and Polly watched as her mug fell to the floor, coffee splattering up the doors of the old blue Formica kitchen units. Freezing, she held her breath. Waiting. But there was nothing, no sound, no hint of another forced entry.
Maybe she’d been hearing things. She’d been on edge ever since Zac had left, even before that. Of course her mind was playing tricks on her. That was normal. To be expected.
Kneeling down, she felt the hot liquid quickly soak through the knee of her jeans as she began collecting up the broken ceramic. She needed to sleep, that’s what she really needed, but that wasn’t about to happen, especially not now since her mind was playing tricks on her again.
With the pieces of mug picked up, she stood up and grabbed the tea towel just as another knock sounded through the flat. And again. And again. This wasn’t her imagination. This was real. There was really someone here, someone standing outside her flat after midnight. And whoever it was knew she was inside. If they were the same people who had forced entry before, broken the TV and eaten pizza without a care in the world, then they knew someone had been back. They could see that from the stuffed hole in the window of the door.
Gripping the edge of the kitchen work surface, Polly held her breath.Please go away. Please go.She’d always felt safe here, always. Growing up here with her grandparents, knowing that there were people next door, opposite and below, had always comforted her, even on the rare occasions her grandparents had stayed away for the night at friends’ houses or gone on holiday when she’d been out working. It was one thing she loved about this place – the community, the feeling of being cared for.
But now, everything had changed. She couldn’t even solely blame the people who had broken in. Yes, the fact her home had been violated had made it worse, but before that, when the occupiers of the other flats on the floor had left, and she’d suddenly felt alone up here, that’s when it had begun. Things had changed.
And now, now there was someone standing outside the flat, banging on the door.
Turning slowly, Polly lifted her chin. She might be selling soon, but at the moment, this was still her home. Her grandparents’ belongings were still here, and she wasn’t about to let anyone else come in and do whatever they pleased. Not again.
Stepping over the coffee splatters across the lino, Polly walked through the living room before shifting the chair which she’d pushed up against the door to jam the handle. Taking a deep breath, she inched her way into the small hallway and grabbed her grandad’s large navy umbrella from the wooden stand by the door.
Raising the brolly above her head, she froze, suddenly unsure of herself. What did she think she was going to do? Open the door and invite them in? Or open the door and bash them round the head with the brolly?
She couldn’t do this. She wasn’t brave enough. She should just ring the police. Yes, they still hadn’t come out after Zac had rung them, but this was different, she was trapped alone in the flat. They’d come out now.
With her hands shaking and the brolly still held above her head, ready to use if they forced their way inside, Polly began to back away slowly, trying her best not to make a sound.
She saw the end of the brolly get tangled in the heavy plastic ‘gems’ hanging from the lampshade before she heard the inevitable loud clinks as it broke free and the gems knocked together. Drat. With the brolly in mid-air and her hand on the living room door, Polly froze again. Whoever was outside would have heard that.
‘Polly? Are you there? It’s me, Zac.’ His familiar voice filled the hallway.
‘Zac?’ It was Zac. No one was trying to break in. She was safe, her home was safe. Her grandparents’ belongings were safe.
Stepping forward, Polly unlocked the door and pulled it open. Never more grateful to see him.
Zac frowned, his lips twitching in amusement. ‘Death by brolly? That sounds painful.’
‘Huh?’ Blinking, Polly looked from Zac to the brolly still in her hand. Lowering it, she shrugged. ‘I didn’t know it was you banging on the door. I thought it was the people who had broken in again.’
Zac nodded slowly. ‘I’m not sure they would have knocked. Possibly once to see if anyone was inside, but I don’t think they’d have had the patience I did.’
Polly let out a small laugh, the relief flooding her body. ‘No, you’re probably right. What are you doing here?’
‘I could ask you the same thing. You said you were staying at a friend’s house tonight. I was driving past and noticed the lights were on, so thought I’d come and check it out.’
‘To make sure the burglars hadn’t returned?’ Polly gripped the handle of the brolly a little tighter. It wasn’t just her who had thought that was a possibility then.
‘Exactly.’ Zac shrugged and held out his hand, indicating the small hallway. ‘May I?’
Backing into the living room, Polly nodded. ‘Yes, of course. Come on in.’
