Up on the Roof

by A. L. Brooks

  Lena knew it was not normal behaviour for most people, but she had always been this way. So for her, this was normal. She couldn’t change, nor did she want to.

  The phone rang as she was eating the last of her noodles. She glanced at the caller display and sighed, even as her heart rate increased.

  “Hello, Chris.”

  “Hey, Lena.” Chris sounded nervous, and a subtle thrill coursed through Lena; for once, she felt the powerful one in their interaction. “I got your message,” Chris continued, when Lena said nothing.

  “Yes?”

  “Yeah. So. Um. The thing is—”

  “No! No more excuses Chris. I mean it,” Lena said, with an apologetic glance towards the two cats. “Come and get them or they go to the Home.”

  There was a short silence. “Lena, I… Wow, I’m astonished you would use my cats as a pawn in this.”

  Lena bristled and took a couple of deep breaths before responding. “That kind of pathetic emotional blackmail doesn’t work either. They are your cats. Your problem. Not mine.” It was tempting to plead, to try to appeal to Chris’s better side, but Lena knew that would get her nowhere. It hadn’t done for six months, and that wouldn’t change now. Firmness and strength was required, so she gritted her teeth and ploughed on. “You have until Saturday morning. If you haven’t appeared by ten a.m. I’m going to Battersea. Clear?”

  She heard Chris exhale. “I’ll be there Friday evening after work,” she said meekly, and hung up.

  Lena placed her phone beside her on the sofa, her hand shaking as she did so. She held up both hands, the tremors they were exhibiting making her eyes widen. Her stomach clenched, and she took a few more deep breaths. She hadn’t known she had it in her, to be that forceful.

  It felt…wonderful. Scary, but wonderful.

  At a little after eight on Friday evening, the door buzzer rang and Lena jumped, despite knowing to expect it. The one thing she hadn’t thought through since their phone call on Wednesday was that she would have to face Chris again. It was only the second time they’d seen each other since Chris had moved out six months ago. About a month after she’d left, Chris had called up asking if she could see the cats, and Lena had let her come to the flat for a morning. It had been awkward to the point of distressing, and Lena had given up after thirty minutes, retreating to her bedroom with a book while Chris fussed over the cats. Lena had thought that visit would have encouraged Chris to do something about the cat situation, but it wasn’t to be. Belinda was clearly holding out against them going to her place, where Chris was now living, and Chris clearly cared more for Belinda than she did her cats.

  Lena walked slowly to the intercom to let Chris in, then just as slowly walked down the spiral stairs to her front door. As she opened it, she became aware of two voices outside the door, and her anger flared.

  She flung the door open and took in the sight of the two women before her. Chris, her short dark hair ruffled in that just-got-out-of-bed look she’d always favoured, was shuffling on a spot a few feet from the door. She looked different, and it took Lena a while to realise it was because she was wearing make-up, something she’d never done while she was with Lena. Lena’s inner bitch wasn’t quite sure the look suited Chris. At all. But her attention was drawn more to the tall woman standing slightly behind Chris, who Lena could only assume was Belinda. She was gorgeous, of course, with shoulder-length blonde hair, piercing blue eyes, and legs that didn’t stop. She was everything Lena wasn’t, and the contrast between them couldn’t have been more painful to see.

  Lena’s hackles rose.

  “Who is this?” she said, by way of greeting. She took a little pleasure at seeing Chris wince.

  “Hi, Lena. This…is Belinda. She’s come to—”

  “No. She waits outside. She’s not coming into my home.” Lena’s voice shook, but it wasn’t quiet.

  Chris took a small step backwards, and Lena marvelled at the impact this strong version of herself could have on her ex. Somewhere deep inside, she wondered how different things might have been between them if she’d stood up for herself a little more when they were together.

  “Er, okay. Fair enough,” Chris said, absently scratching at the back of her neck. Behind her, Belinda tutted, but when Lena turned her glare on her, she also took a step backwards.

  “I’ll wait…outside,” Belinda said, and in the next moment spun round and practically sprinted down the stairs. As she slammed the main door behind her, Lena winced. Was Dorothy home? Would she make a—

  Her question was answered instantly. Dorothy’s front door opened and she called out, “Stop slamming that door!”

  Lena sighed and stepped past Chris to look over the bannister. Dorothy spotted her and glared up at her.

  “Sorry, Dorothy. It won’t happen again.”

  Chris moved to look over the bannister too. “Yeah, sorry, Dorothy.”

  Dorothy’s glare switched focus to Chris. “You?” she said, and Lena was stunned at the level of venom in that one word. “What, pray tell, are you doing back here?”

  Chris flinched. “I’m…I’m just getting the cats.”

  Dorothy huffed. “And about time too,” she snapped. She turned her gaze back to Lena, and her tone softened as she said, “Do you need any help?”

  Lena was so taken aback by Dorothy’s demeanour, to both herself and Chris, she struggled to find words. Eventually, she managed to squeak out, “No, it’s all good. Thank you.”

  “Well, you let me know if you do. I am home all evening,” she said, staring intensely back at Chris. She pointed at her and said, “I’ll pray for you, young lady.” And then she was gone, her door closing loudly behind her.

  Chris chuckled, but it was nervous and lacked warmth. Lena, on the other hand, was glowing. Who knew Dorothy could be so…amazing?

  She turned to Chris. “Come on. Let’s get this over with.” She didn’t wait for a response but walked back into the flat and up the stairs.

  It took Chris three trips to ferry all the cats’ equipment and toys down to Belinda on the front doorstep, then she came back up one last time for the cats themselves. Instead of cages, which they hated, she’d fashioned a couple of slings that were going to wrap around her body with a cat in each. They’d used the system before for taking the cats to the vet, and it seemed to work.

  Lena stood in the middle of the living room and watched as Chris coaxed the cats over to where she sat on the sofa. The poor suckers probably thought they were finally going to be able to snuggle on the sofa, thought Lena. Suddenly, sadness washed over her. The cats were going. As much as they’d caused her ill health and irritation ever since they’d moved in, now that they were going she realised, that in a way, she was going to miss them. They’d been two personalities she’d come home to every night—two living, breathing creatures that had, despite her attitude towards them, always been happy to see her. Mainly, she guessed, because she fed them. But perhaps, possibly, because they loved her. The tears that pricked at her eyes were embarrassing, and she brushed them away.

  In a matter of minutes, Chris had both cats wrapped in the slings and one over each shoulder. The cats looked bemused, rather than panicked, and Lena was grateful. She didn’t wish them any ill or stress.

  Haltingly, she stepped across the room to within a pace of Chris and tentatively reached out a hand. She scratched each cat on its forehead a couple of times and smiled as they reached up for more.

  “Right,” Chris said, and cleared her throat. “All done.”

  Lena nodded and stepped back. There was nothing she needed to say that hadn’t already been said.

  “Thanks for looking after them all this time.”

  Lena snorted. Like she’d had any choice.

  Chris flinched. “Yeah, well,” she said, walking towards the stairs. “I’ll…I’ll be going now.”

  Lena nodded again
. “Please shut the door on your way out.” If she sounded cold, she didn’t care—after what Chris had done, there was no way she could feel warmth towards her.

  A few moments later, the door shut and she had the place to herself again. She breathed out a couple of times, then glanced at her watch. Excellent timing—she had the rest of the evening to get things moved around ready for the carpet cleaning company she’d organised to come in first thing Saturday to do a deep clean of the place. For the first time in over two years, her flat was going to be cat-hair free.

  Perfect.

  Chapter 7

  Hi Lena, just to let you know, my brother will be able to replace your door next week. Please let me know what day works best for you. Weekends are okay if that’s easier. And I’m having another party tonight, Saturday. You’re invited and I’d really like it if you came down to join us, but if nothing else, I wanted to warn you about the noise. Megan

  Lena found the note slipped under her door when she got back from doing her groceries. The carpet cleaning firm had been and gone and done an excellent job. She could swear she was breathing easier already. The only unsettling incident of the morning was spotting a dark—possibly damp—patch on the wall near where the old chimney must have been. The patch was new, she was sure of that—but then, she’d been more than a little stressed lately so it could have been there for a while… Either way, she’d have to do something about it. Contact the landlord, presumably.

  She sighed and looked at the note clutched in her hand, a range of emotions swirling through her. On the one hand, it was pleasing that Megan had warned her of the party and organised the new door that quickly. It obviously paid to have a brother who was a builder. But at the same time, a few hours’ notice wasn’t much for the party. If she’d known more in advance, she could have made plans to be elsewhere.

  She closed her eyes and sighed again. Who was she kidding? Where else would she go? Since arriving in London nearly four years ago, determined to set her life on a different course from the one her parents had mapped out for her, she’d struggled to make friends. Sure, she got on okay with some of the people she worked with and occasionally joined them for drinks after work. But friends outside work had been hard to come by. She’d only met Chris through a seminar they’d both attended—Chris was also an accountant—and once involved with her, Lena had thought that was all she needed to be happy.

  Now, of course, she realised the folly of that way of thinking. Especially as she’d lost all the people she called friends back in Bolton. It wasn’t only her parents who’d had an issue with her announcement about her sexuality. It was amazing how quickly people she thought she knew quite well had disappeared from view after she told them. All except Madhu, of course, who truly loved Lena unconditionally.

  Knowing there was nothing she could do about it now, she braced herself for an evening of noise and exuberance that would disturb her reading. Again.

  It didn’t take long to start—she could hear Megan’s first guests arriving around seven o’clock, and grimly she snuggled farther down under the blanket on the sofa, her legs pulled up underneath her, her hands gripping her paperback. The volume of the music got louder, as did the screams and shouts. She vaguely wondered what Dorothy made of it all—had Megan warned her too? Did Dorothy have other places she could be to avoid being disturbed? Lena wouldn’t be surprised if that were true. Dorothy seemed to play a pivotal role in her church and probably had many friends as a result.

  At nine, she was startled by a firm knock on her front door. She waited, thinking perhaps one of Megan’s guests had got the wrong door, despite each door being labelled with a letter to distinguish it from her neighbours. She was C, Megan was B.

  The knock came again, slightly louder.

  Sighing, she unwrapped herself from the blanket, pulled her hoodie tighter around her body, and trotted down the stairs. She looked through the peephole, and her eyes widened. It was Megan.

  After unlocking the door, she inched it open, staring at Megan, who was bouncing on the spot with a huge grin on her face.

  “Hey, Lena!” Megan said, expansively, and instinctively Lena knew Megan was already rather drunk.

  “Hello,” Lena said cautiously.

  “How are you?”

  Lena gave a slow nod. “Fine. What can I do for you, Megan?” What on Earth was Megan doing on her doorstep when her own party was blaring only metres away?

  “I was… Well, the thing is.” Megan shuffled from side to side, her cheeks flaring. “Well, I wondered if you’d like to come to the party. I know we must be disturbing you, so I thought…well, I thought maybe if you joined in, it might be nicer for you.”

  Lena stared at her. Megan’s size made her intimidating in so many ways, but here she was, nervously stumbling her way through a personal invite to her party and looking…bashful. It seemed incongruous, and—Lena had to admit—endearing.

  “I…I’m not sure that’s a good idea,” Lena said automatically, even as one part of her brain questioned why. Why not go to a party? Why not have some fun on a Saturday night, for once?

  “Aw, really? Come on,” Megan wheedled. “It’ll be fun.”

  “Um, thanks. Really. It’s…” Lena paused, wondering how much to admit, and in the next instant saying it anyway, “I don’t do that well around strangers,” she said quietly.

  Megan cocked her head. “But I’m not a stranger,” she said, grinning from ear-to-ear.

  In spite of herself, in spite of everything Megan had done wrong since she moved in, Lena smiled.

  “No, you’re not. Really, it’s nice of you to ask, but…I can’t.” It was too much, too soon. The thought of being surrounded by a lot of merry people who all knew each other, with the music that loud and the alcohol clearly flowing—it was too daunting. Maybe another time…

  Megan’s smile faded, and she shoved her hands into her jeans pockets. She looked down and back up again, exhaling as she did so. “Okay, fair enough. See you around,” she said and turned back to her own flat.

  Lena slowly shut her door and leaned against it. It was the right decision. It was.

  And, three hours later, when her floor was vibrating from the thump of the music and her ears were ringing from the constant screaming that punctuated every track, she knew it was. She’d have hated that level of…frivolity. She’d have felt like an outsider, the wallflower nobody talked to. The weirdo everyone left alone.

  Yes, not going had definitely been the right decision.

  So why did she feel so hollow inside?

  “Oh, my God, how much tequila did we get through?” Megan threw another empty bottle into the recycling crate and glared at Jen, who was slouched on the over-sized sofa. Jen could barely open her eyes and winced as Megan spoke.

  “Please, I beg you. Not so loud.” Jen’s voice only just made it above a whisper.

  “I’m talking normally,” Megan said, wincing as her own head pounded at her words. “But maybe quieter would be good,” she said, dropping her level down.

  Jen gave a soft chuckle. “Trust me, you weren’t complaining about the tequila last night when that hot chick was licking salt off your abs.”

  Megan groaned, rubbing the area where the hot chick’s tongue had been. Yeah, that had been a highlight, all right. Until later when grains of salt started appearing in places they had no right to be.

  “Who was she anyway?” Jen asked.

  “No idea. I thought you knew her?”

  Jen laughed, shaking her head. “Nope. But I sure would like to.”

  Megan couldn’t actually agree. As much as she loved throwing parties, a party woman like that wasn’t someone she would think to pursue. She’d done that before, a couple of times, and had been disappointed in the experience. Going drinking every night and dancing until the small hours had got very boring, very quickly. She’d soon also realised that both o
f those women she’d dated weren’t interested in anything serious, only when and where the next party was. While she didn’t want anything as serious as she’d had with Julie—at least, not yet—she wanted something more than the frivolous shallowness those women had offered.

  She shook her head as she moved around the kitchen tidying up. Best not to let thoughts of Julie get into her sore head—it was bad enough remembering her when she was sober and lucid. A hangover would surely make the memories feel ten times worse.

  Ten minutes later, Megan finished piling empty bottles and cans in the recycling crate and dumped it by the front door. She turned to survey the flat. It looked like a bomb had hit it. There were empty pizza boxes strewn all over the living room, items of clothing that she was sure weren’t hers or Jen’s draped over the floor cushions and sofa, and her media centre was covered in empty CD cases and what looked like peanuts. She walked over. Yep, peanuts. She had no idea how they had got there.

  She stood with her hands on her hips, wondering if she had the energy right now to deal with this. It took only a nanosecond to decide that no, she really didn’t.

  “Want to get some brunch?” she asked Jen, who smiled widely.

  Later—much later, after a long brunch with Jen that involved a couple of hairs of the dog—Megan finally began sorting through the crap from the night before. She’d already had two calls from people claiming items of clothing, and those had been set aside for collection Monday evening. The rest of the clothing had been folded up and stacked in a corner. The rubbish had been taken down to the bins outside, Megan being very careful not to disturb Dorothy, as there was no way Megan could deal with her and a hangover at the same time. She’d heard no sound from Lena upstairs, and her heart sank a little again at the thought of the beautiful but oh-so-shy woman who lived above her.