It took me a long time to realise she was always there because she didn’t have another place. Cam was too arrogant to consult me about his live-in girlfriend and maybe she was too proud to admit she had nowhere else to go. He paid more rent than me and his sense of entitlement would override my input in most cases anyway. He liked to have that financial control over her. He liked to have control over something.
It was around that same time the house started to fall apart. Thinking about it now has only solidified it in my memory. It was an old place but it was definitely during that summer that I noticed the crack across the ceiling, and the mould in the bathroom, and in the linen cupboard, and my room. It’s funny the things you choose to remember and how some things matter and other things don’t.
‘Good morning!’ she held her tea breast height which only made me notice her nipples. She was wearing one of his t-shirts and not much else.
‘Indeed it is. How did you sleep?’
‘Oh you know, like a log. I always sleep well after a few,’ explaining the inescapable moans of last night. I pushed them from my memory but couldn’t do so quickly enough. Blood rushed to my face.
‘Oh yeah where’d you go?’
‘Just to Cam’s work. The usual. He finished at midnight so we got home at a half-decent hour,’ she moved out from behind the bench and sat on the couch. I caught a glimpse of her underwear as she turned to sit down. Light pink with lace trimming.
I walked into the kitchen and began fumbling with the notch on the bread. Our house had an open plan living and dining area so we were essentially in the same room. I put two pieces in the toaster and opened the fridge but immediately forgot why I had done so. I closed it and then realised I needed the butter. I wondered if she could see my nerves.
‘Where is Cam actually?’ I said, trying to sound nonchalant.
‘He had to leave early. Uni at 9 or something. I dunno. Not here anyway.’ Her voice was closer than it was before. She was standing in the kitchen emptying the dregs of her herbal tea into the sink. She raised her hands above her head and took a deep breath, arching back in an elongated stretch. I could see the silhouette of her entire body thanks to the morning light, the pink and lace underwear was visible in its entirety. She released her arms and turned to face me, ‘I think he’ll be back soon.’
A lot of the time she would be at home even when Cam wasn’t. I didn’t mind, I always liked her company despite the conversations being very one-sided. She made you feel like you were interesting, just by being interested in her.
One night when it was just me and her, she told me she would steal keys from the guys she had slept with, just to fuck with them and make them think she would break in again later. She liked the thought of them going to the effort of changing their locks to keep her out, and although she assured me she never went back to any of their houses a part of me always wondered if she had. I wanted to ask her how many keys she had collected but I didn’t have the courage. I just agreed it was a ‘truly hilarious’ thing to do and yes, it was ‘obviously harmless.’
These were the types of conversations that were strictly Cam free and usually the result of a few drinks. For someone who never paid rent and never bought food she always managed to have wine in the house. Most of it was given to her from her boss at the Italian restaurant, which made me uncomfortable but she was used to accepting gifts from men. I doubt Cam ever knew or even cared where she got it from as long as he got some.
‘Jesus! What happened to your face?!’
‘Oh fuck off as if you don’t remember,’ Cam had returned from wherever he had been with a bandage on his right hand and a black eye.
Dee started across the room but his retort made her stop. She watched him find his way to the lounge and furrowed her eyebrows, casting her memory back to just hours before. She had quite the talent for acquiring illicit substances but never having to actually pay for them, and as a result her memory this morning was probably shot. That combined with her ability to lie through her teeth meant she could get out of most things.
‘Well do you?’ was the best defence she had.
Cam was unimpressed. He flung himself down onto the couch, spread his legs wide across the floor and rested his heels on the edge of my rug. He took a deep breath and held his hand to his forehead in some kind of frustration or pain, I couldn’t tell.
‘I don’t want to talk about it. If you honestly don’t remember, then good.’
She barely concealed her disapproval. Her eyes flickered from his to mine. It was obvious she wanted to talk about it, wanted him to relive it in front of me, to prove something. I had discovered early on that she needed people to talk about her, do things for her – which Cam never did. He’d never said anything to anyone about her, never praised her, never shared a memory they had. He never validated her the way she needed and that’s probably why she never left him.
They held eye contact for what seemed to be an eternity. I wasn’t sure if this was going to explode into one of their verbal showdowns or just slide by. Either way I would have to walk between them to get out of the house or up to my room, so I cowered in the kitchen and waited, rather uncomfortably.
Cam looked her up and down. A quiet anger visibly consumed her. Her breath turned into short, sharp snorts of fury. She was desperate for an explanation but he was too tired and too powerful to succumb to her wishes. His disgust and obvious disregard for her existence thickened the tension to a point she could no longer bear. I thought I saw her tear up, all the while never taking her eyes off him. With slow purposeful steps she walked across the room, holding him in that wild stare until she reached the staircase. Without another word she ascended them in quick, light steps.
A moment passed in that dreadful state. We both heard the sound of her footsteps across the floorboards in his room calm and then stop. Another moment passed. Cam finally released some of the pressure by reaching for the remote, exerting himself so much the simple task seemed detrimental to his health. He let out a deep sigh and turned the TV on. Our eyes met for only a moment. He swept his fringe off his face and simultaneously rested his unbruised cheek in his palm.
‘You know this has nothing to do with her. She can just think it does,’ he traced the buttons on the remote and spoke to me without looking up. When he finally did he met my confused gaze with hostility. ‘She’s always running her mouth and using people so she can feel guilty for once. Fuck her.’
I generally didn’t get involved with their relationship woes. As far as I was concerned it went: sex, fight, sex, food, sex, fight, fight, a few days apart and then she’d be back. For some reason Cam must have needed me on side.
He scoffed. It was obvious I had no idea what to say in to help his situation. He looked down at his bandaged hand, nodded a few times to himself and laid back on the couch.
I figured he wanted me to leave, so I began for the stairs. I could feel his eyes follow me. My cheeks burned under the pressure and the tension that lingered in every corner of the house. I wondered if he thought I was going to talk to her, and then if that would be completely inappropriate. As I blocked his view of the television, I realised that in the midst of everything I’d left my unbuttered toast on the bench. I faltered in my steps but had gone too far to go back for it.
The door to Cam’s room was directly opposite mine. Dee had left it the tiniest bit open, probably to hear if we were talking about her downstairs. I couldn’t help but peek through the crack for a moment before going to my room as intended.
She was lying on the floorboards on her side, facing across the room with her back to the window. The sunlight was harsh on her bare legs and face, but her eyes were closed and she seemed to be resting. Her body was still, soaking up the now midday rays. Tiny blonde hairs on her thigh caught the light. I could see the contours of her delicate ribcage through her shirt, the bones moved slowly, up and down, in time with deep exhausted breaths. She looked peaceful. The musky scent from her incense drifted into my nostrils. Smoke was dancing in the air above her, insisting she was a mirage that only existed in my imagination.
She began to yawn and stretch. I retreated, opening my bedroom door and hiding behind it in a confused panic. I closed it painstakingly slow; hoping the click of the latch would be indiscernible. It would be no good for anyone to realise what I had been doing.
My heart was beating out of my chest in a kind of bewildered excitement. I felt like a child playing hide and seek. That moment of hiding when you can hear the seeker’s approach but can’t actually see them. I tried to calm down, tried to push the image of her from my mind but it was impossible. Thoughts of her flooded into my headspace. Thoughts of how her skin would feel, how her hair would smell (like incense probably), how her feet would be cold if she slipped into my bed in the morning. How she looked when she hadn’t taken her make up off the night before. Her breasts, they would be warm, welcoming. Her thighs… Open. Her voice, her voice saying my name. She would whisper it into my ear to wake me, or to get my attention or to tell me she loved me and that there was no one who ever made her feel this way or ever could.
‘Eric? Are you in there?’ her voice was so low I thought I had imagined it. She was so close to me. I leaned hard against the door to make sure she couldn’t open it even if she were to try. By this stage the erection in my pants was too obvious to let her in and I had no way of explaining it.
‘I know you’re there,’ she was still whispering. Obviously Cam would not approve of her speaking to me. I’m pretty sure at this point he had no idea we had actually spoken to each other properly before.
‘You don’t have to let me in, it’s ok,’ my palms began to sweat and her actual presence was not helping with what was happening in my pants. I could feel the weight of her body gently lean against the other side of the door. She continued to whisper through the hinges, ‘I just wanted to say thank you.’
She rarely thanked anyone for anything, so naturally I wasn’t sure what she was thanking me for. Thank you for not starting a fight? Thank you for supporting my relationship with Cam? Thank you for picking me up from the station that night? Thank you for not telling anyone?
annaxmalina
snowghoul
theartofmadeline
blakekathryn
yousharknotpass
2087
