‘If you stay on the phone I’ll switch the light on and look?’
‘Don’t risk it, Jessie. Just shut the door if you can and wait in The Hare and Hounds. See you soon.’
She followed his instructions and harshly yanked the door shut, pushing back into it afterwards to double-check. Life was relentless at the moment. This was just the icing on a very bleak cake.
At the pub, Jessie ordered a gin and tonic and sipped it greedily, desperate for the alcohol’s calming effects to kick in. She headed to a wooden booth and searched her emails for the Happy Homes main office number, then hit the call option, as Marcus had advised her to do.
‘Happy Homes, Craig speaking.’
He sounded very young. Not ideal for what she wanted to discuss.
‘I’m a resident from Maver Place. Can I speak with Ian, please?’
She stirred the straw around in her glass, hoping it might encourage some of the ice to melt, and took another quiet sip.
‘He’s off ill, I’m afraid.’
‘Do you think he’ll be back in tomorrow?’
Craig made a noise that suggested not.
‘Nah, he’s pretty bad. I didn’t even think you could go to hospital with food poisoning, but apparently they’ve kept him in overnight. So yeah, basically I dunno when he’s coming back.’
He must have eaten something seriously bad, Jessie thought. It sounded dodgy. But maybe he was just skiving.
‘Are you able to help at all? We’ve had a break-in at the flat.’
‘Probably not, to be honest. I’m just an intern.’
She could tell that Craig was chewing gum as he spoke.
‘If you call again tomorrow morning, everyone else will be back in. They’ll know what to do.’
After thanking him for his help (although she didn’t know why), Jessie hung up. A stained paper menu lay on the table in front of her but she wasn’t hungry, her stomach still knotted at the thought of an intruder being in the flat.
A man with a swept-back fringe approached her table, carrying a pint of lager. His black jacket was unzipped.
‘You okay?’ Marcus asked quietly, fixing his eyes over her shoulder. Jessie nodded.
‘I went to the flat on my way here, nothing looks damaged or missing.’
It was strange, sitting alone with him. She could tell that he was uncomfortable with the situation too and wondered if the barman presumed they were a couple. Or maybe it looked as though they’d never even met before. She doubted anybody would ever guess they were flatmates.
‘But someone had broken in?’
‘Well, there was a glass smashed on the floor in the kitchen but there is a window open. The lock hasn’t been forced. It’s weird.’
On that last word, Marcus’s eyes met Jessie’s, as if silently trying to tell her something.
‘So maybe one of us just didn’t shut the door properly on their way out? Maybe the wind knocked the glass off the side or something?’
Marcus nodded, his entire slender body moving too as he did so.
‘Yeah, could be that. We all need to be more careful.’
They finished the rest of their drinks without saying much else. She messaged the group chat telling the girls what had happened and they all pledged to be more vigilant in future. Back at the flat, Marcus paused before entering his room.
‘Glad you’re all right.’
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
After their second date, Rob offered to walk Jessie back to Maver Place. She was relieved, still jumpy at the thought of Matthew potentially roaming the streets looking for her, and keen for the evening not to end. Their chemistry, as also evidenced by their constant texting, was well and truly out in full force. Rob had yet to follow through on his promise to cook though, which had become somewhat of a running joke between them that night at dinner.
‘I promise, as soon as my housemate is next away I’ll have you over,’ was his catchphrase. ‘He’s just a bit in your face and doesn’t quite grasp the concept of privacy, so I know he’d be lurking around the kitchen the whole time, trying to embarrass me. Quite off-putting when I’d be trying to impress you.’
Jessie understood, but it made her all the more curious to see inside Rob’s home. She wanted to nosy around his bookshelf, to see how clean he kept his bathroom and judge his bed sheets. To be away from Maver Place. It was a Friday night, meaning neither of them had to think about getting up for work the next day and the evening stretched out with endless possibilities. They’d split a bottle of red wine over tapas, which Rob had refused to let her go halves on, and which helped Jessie to relax somewhat, and decided to pick up another bottle on their way to the flat. The man in her local newsagents, who Jessie was now on small-talk terms with, gave them a knowing look as he served them. He put the shiraz into a blue carrier bag and nodded to her.
‘Have a good evening, lady.’
She linked her arm through Rob’s as they left the shop, listening to his story about the architecture office he worked in, but not retaining much of it. Something about a colleague who was caught cutting corners on a job? Her concentration was elsewhere. Anticipation and desire made her eyes shine bright under the streetlights. Rob noticed, tucked a stray hair behind her ear and kissed her until her knees felt weak. The first man since Matthew. Whatever happened next was going to be significant. She desperately tried to remember if she’d left her room a mess and thought about texting Lauren to ask if she could hide any clothes scattered on the floor under the bed, knowing she’d find it funny. A better scenario, though, would be to discover that they had the flat all to themselves. Christ, it was time to buy some sexier underwear.
As they approached the flat at Maver Place, there were no obvious signs of life inside. Maybe everyone was out after all. Jessie felt along the hallway wall for the switch, then flicked it on, illuminating the corridor. Seeing things afresh, through Rob’s eyes, she noticed how scuffed all the paintwork was. Things she’d become blind to about the flat, having lived there for a few months now, suddenly became disgustingly obvious. The cobwebs gathering in the corners – had they seriously been there the whole time? And had the bulb always hummed so loudly as it warmed up? Given that Rob was a foot taller than her, he’d definitely have noticed both.
‘I’ll grab some glasses and we can chill in my room?’ Jessie suggested, eager to distract him from looking too hard.
She hung her bag over the end of the bannister, walked into the kitchen and quickly swiped two wine glasses that were face down on the drying rack. Rob was waiting at the bottom of the stairs.
‘It’s a sweet place you’ve got here.’
Before Jessie could reply, he took her face in his palms and lightly brushed his lips against hers.
They’d fallen asleep, tangled together in sweaty sheets in the early hours of the morning and Jessie awoke around eight o’clock, barely stirring at first, enjoying the feel of the cotton cover against her bare skin. It took a moment to remember the previous night in all its glory – the way Rob’s weight had felt so necessary on top of her, his heavy breath in her ear, how he’d whispered her name. She stretched out a hand to the left side of the bed but found no warm flesh waiting to greet her. When she opened her eyes, she was alone. Presuming Rob was in the bathroom, she quickly jumped up and inspected her face in the mirror. She licked the side of her index finger and tidied some of the mascara smeared under her eyes from the day before, then remembered there was an open pack of gum in one of the dressing table drawers. Quickly, glancing back at the door, she bit into a piece and chewed furiously, before spitting it into the bin – important not to look as if she was trying too hard – and scurrying back into bed. Things felt different today. They’d slept together, and she couldn’t wait to tell Priya, Lauren and Sofie all about it. Not only was it another milestone checked in moving on from Matthew, but she’d finally have some gossip to bring to the table when talk turned to relationships. That said, Sofie rarely divulged much about Henry, seeing as they al
l knew him. Priya and Zoe had been together for years too, but Jessie loved hearing Lauren’s stories of her one-night stands and past romances. They made her a bit envious that she’d never been able to see sex as a one-time thing herself.
She couldn’t tell how much time had passed before the niggle of doubt began to worm its way in. What if Rob wasn’t just freshening up and it had it all been a vivid dream? Or worse, he’d woken up, taken one look at her and run? A condom wrapper on the floor confirmed he was real at least. Jessie reached under the bed for a pair of joggers, heaved herself up, then rummaged in her drawer for a vest top. Birds outside were tweeting intently at one another, discussing something she didn’t quite yet know about. The bathroom door was ajar, showing it was empty inside, the mirror still fogged with condensation. Her heart sank a little further. Then lifted. It would be bizarre for Rob to have showered before ditching her. She clawed back another minute to pretend that he might be downstairs making them both coffee. Faint sounds of Marcus’s usual miserable music met her ears; this morning it was The Smiths’ classic ‘Girlfriend in a Coma’.
As soon as Jessie reached the kitchen, any hope that Rob might have feelings for her instantly evaporated. Even though the fridge door was already busy with postcards and bill reminders, four cheerful magnetic letters stood out immediately.
They’d been arranged to spell out the word ‘SLUT’.
Jessie’s feet sprang roots, anchoring her to the floor, and a hard lump formed in the middle of her throat. It made no sense. They hadn’t rushed into anything, they’d been speaking for months now, and she genuinely thought Rob had respect for her. He’d even said so right before starting to unbutton her blouse.
‘You stupid idiot,’ Jessie whispered to herself.
She dug her nails into the palms of her hand, trying to inflict some minor self-punishment. Not again, not again, not again. Back in the hallway she checked the pocket in her bag where she usually kept her phone. It was empty.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Jessie unhooked the strap of her bag from the bannister and emptied it out onto the kitchen table. Purse, keys, medication, hair grips and lipstick, but no phone. She went back into the hallway and checked the pockets of the jacket she’d been wearing last night, but they were empty too. Her purse was missing a £20 note. She badly wanted to call Priya, who should’ve landed back at Gatwick around the same time that she and Rob had started tearing each other’s clothes off. Her face felt hot at the memory. For him to leave like that was one thing, but to steal from her in the process was a different level of cruel.
‘Bastard,’ she muttered to herself, slumping down in her chair.
Trusting someone after Matthew had been a cumbersome task, one that she’d deliberately treated with caution. But her desire to be loved had, combined with wine and loneliness, created a potent cocktail that outweighed all the fear she felt about letting someone new in. What a fool. Jessie tried to retrace last night’s steps and came to the same conclusion: her phone had definitely been in her bag when they’d reached the flat. She hadn’t taken it out in the restaurant and had last glanced at it somewhere between the shop and the front door. As she sat staring at the fridge, Jessie didn’t notice Lauren walk into the room until she waved a hand in front of her face, jerking her out of deep thought.
‘All right, space cadet? Anyone home?’
Lauren studied Jessie’s face. She looked drained and upset.
‘What’s wrong? How was last night?’
Lauren took a seat at the table and leant forward with obvious concern. At first, Jessie didn’t know how to answer. Talking about it would make it even more real. Once somebody else knew, there could be no pretending that there was a nicer explanation for Rob vanishing along with her stuff, other than the fact she’d been royally played. She pointed to the insult left on the fridge.
‘That pretty much sums it up. Rob came back here for the first time last night.’
Jessie watched Lauren’s face change from confusion to anger as she read the magnets.
‘And now I can’t find my phone, it’s not in my bag.’
‘You’re joking? Do you think he’s taken it? We have to go to the police then! What a nasty …’ Lauren trailed off. ‘Honestly, sometimes I just hate all men. All of them. Slut is such a stupid word; I mean, it takes two people to have sex. Why do we have to shoulder all the stigma for it?’
They fell silent.
‘Let me call it for you, just in case? You never know, I’m always losing things when I’ve had a few. Marcus once found my keys in the fridge.’
Lauren pulled her own phone out of the back pocket of her black, slim-fitting jeans.
‘It’s switched off.’
The sound of Jessie’s automated voicemail filled the kitchen, until Lauren hung up.
‘It’s been a really difficult few months and this is the last thing I needed,’ Jessie said, her voice catching. ‘Have you ever had someone get inside your head so much that, even when you know they’re bad for you, you continue to let them in?’
The words came tumbling out before she’d even had a chance to formulate them properly in her own mind. A sickly cloud of vape smoke left Lauren’s lips, smelling of imitation strawberry chews and burnt sugar.
‘Yes,’ she said quietly. ‘A guy called Zach.’
Lauren spoke slowly and looked thoughtful.
‘Even though it’s been years since we were together, saying his name still makes me feel on edge. He’s been harder to quit than any cigarettes, I still find myself looking at his Instagram when I’m having a bad day. Nothing like rubbing salt in your own wounds.’
She laughed at her own half-attempt at a joke and sucked at the pen again. It crackled as the liquid inside hit the hot coil and turned to mist.
‘If I hadn’t met him, I …’ She trailed off. ‘I’d be a different person.’
In a way, and without knowing the details, Jessie understood. It was a foreign concept that Lauren could ever have come off worse from a relationship, given how charismatic and self-assured she seemed.
‘It’s all a learning curve, I guess,’ Jessie sighed, trying to convince herself in the process.
She’d thrown herself back into the dating pool too quickly and learnt a lesson. Instead of trying to meet someone new to make herself feel less alone or lost, it was time to make a conscious effort to enjoy her own company for a while, cultivate deeper friendships. She’d place her trust in friends only. In people like Lauren, Nicole and Priya, who all had her best interests at heart.
‘How about a girl’s night out?’ suggested Lauren. ‘We can really let our hair down. You’ve lived here for ages now and we still haven’t managed a proper night on the tiles.’
It sounded the perfect tonic to an otherwise miserable morning. Jessie’s head was softly pounding from the wine she’d sipped until the early hours of the morning, but it wasn’t bad enough to put her off drinking again. She had a new dress from ASOS that she needed an excuse to wear too.
‘Let’s do it. I’ll text Sofie and …’ she started, before remembering. ‘Never mind.’
Lauren shot her a sympathetic smile.
‘I’ll do the organising. Look, I feel awful leaving you but I have to pop down to the studio for a couple of hours. Are you going to be okay on your own?’
The thought of running a deep bath and sinking under the warm water suddenly felt like the only thing in the world that would soothe Jessie. She wanted any trace of Rob’s touch washed off her and down the plughole.
‘Of course. Sorry for being such a downer,’ she said, plastering a grin on and deciding she’d use the bubble bath her grandma had given her for Christmas.
‘Not at all. We’re friends, best friends, you’re like a little sister to me. You know I’d do anything I could to cheer you up.’
Lauren stood up and stretched her arms out. It took Jessie a second to work out what she was doing, then she rose from her seat too and hugged Lauren back, hard, feeling lucky
to know her.
Once she heard the front door slam shut, Jessie walked upstairs, grumbled as she fished a clump of hair out of the plughole and turned on the taps. She listened as the water thundered down into the empty tub. It was depressing how adrift she felt without her phone. Wandering back into her room as the bath continued to run, she logged in to Facebook to send a message to Priya, explaining why she couldn’t be contacted, then pulled up the message she’d sent to Magda about the locket, to see whether or not she’d read it yet. She mustn’t check her inbox all that often because it remained unseen.
Had Magda been happy while living here? Was she also kept awake at night, by a combination of her own thoughts and unexplained noises? She still had no real idea as to why Magda had left. Jessie closed the laptop and went back to the bathroom, taking care to slide the lock fully across. She’d never forgotten that morning when Marcus had appeared behind her in the mirror. Even though the way he’d responded during the burglary scare had revealed a different side to him, a more human one, she was still wary around him, although she could empathise with him about how difficult it must be to feel so socially awkward and uncomfortable in your own skin. It also couldn’t be easy living with Lauren and having a crush on her, when she so clearly didn’t reciprocate those feelings.
The sky outside was sludge grey, which Jessie took as further permission to wallow in a state of pensive thought and subdued unhappiness. It was always easier to feel melancholy when the weather outside was dreary, somehow less guilt accompanied it. She combed conditioner through her hair and hugged her knees to her chest, waiting for the minutes to pass. The air was thick and a few degrees too warm to breathe comfortably, akin to sitting in a sauna. The bathroom window only opened a crack, barely wide enough to fit a fist through. Jessie ran the cold tap a little and bent forward to drink some of the water, to cool her throat, and resumed her hunched over position. This always happened when she took a bath. The idea of it was so much more appealing than the reality. Boredom set in quickly. An unexpected tear fell from her right eye.
The Wrong Move Page 12
