by L.H. Cosway
“Iris, why are you buying a sleeping bag?” he asked. The note of anger in his voice made me nervous.
I kept my eyes on the catalogue as I lied, “I’m going on a camping trip with some friends next weekend.”
“Iris.”
“Hmmm?”
“Please be honest with me.”
“I have to go put this order in before they close the tills,” I said, ignoring his plea and heading to the other end of the store. Liam followed heavy on my heels. He didn’t say anything but when I took a quick peek at him he appeared to be grinding his jaw in irritation.
“Somebody’s got a bee in their bonnet,” I said in an effort to lighten the mood. “Time of the month, Constable?”
Liam didn’t answer, his silence creating a horrible tension between us. I didn’t understand why he was so angry. It wasn’t like he was the one who had to sleep rough. By the time my order was brought out I was about ready to make an exit. He seemed furious and I was too exhausted and hungry to deal with that kind of attention.
I stopped when we got outside the shop. “Well, I better get going.”
Liam looked me dead in the eye. “I’ll walk you home.”
“There’s no need,” I said, attempting to brush him off. “I don’t want to put you out.”
“You’re not putting me out. I want to walk you.” There was a steel in his voice that brooked no argument and I started to panic.
“Seriously, Liam—”
“Iris, I’m walking you home, so get moving.”
I nodded nervously, and started walking, trying to think of a plan. I could lead him to a block of flats, hope like hell someone let me inside and wait until he left. Yes, that might work. I tried to think of a place that would be easy to get into. There was a block of flats I used to hang out in when I was living at Maude’s. It wasn’t fancy and the security was non-existent, so it was likely I wouldn’t have a problem getting inside.
A couple of minutes passed and Liam still hadn’t breathed a word. “You’re very quiet for someone who claimed they wanted to talk to me.”
“I wanted to talk to you about moving into our place, but I know if I bring it up you’ll only change the subject.”
I didn’t have an answer for that. Instead I eyed him up and down and asked, “How old are you anyway?”
There was the tiniest twitch in his left eye that indicated my continuing to be obstinate was truly bothering him. “Twenty-four,” he replied, voice hard.
“Huh. That makes you four years older than me. When’s your birthday?”
Liam arched an eyebrow. “You planning on buying me a present?”
I shot him a small smile. “Maybe.”
“June 27th.”
“No way! Mine’s June 30th. That makes us both cancers.”
He thawed a little. “Is that why we seem to argue so much, because we’re so alike?”
“Maybe. Lee told me you’re stubborn. I’m stubborn, too.”
He gave a low chuckle. “No shit.” A pause as he glanced at me sideways. “What else did Lee say?”
“He said you haven’t had a girlfriend in a long while. Been going through a dry spell?”
I was lying – sort of. Lee hadn’t said that in so many words, but it was implied, and call me a masochist but I really wanted to know about Liam’s love life.
He shook his head and chuckled some more. “I’ll have to talk to him about his meddling. Oh, and not having girlfriend doesn’t mean it’s been a dry spell,” he went on, eyeing me hotly.
“True. I’m sure the ladies go wild for this uniform,” I teased and reached up to tug on his collar.
His eyes darkened. “Some of them do. What about you?”
“What about me?”
“You like my uniform?”
I hesitated. How was I suddenly so warm when I’d been freezing all day? He was flirting with me, that much was clear. I just honestly didn’t get it. I imagined the sorts of women who came onto him in nightclubs and bars, clean, nice-smelling women in tight dresses and fancy shoes. And here I was the exact opposite, all grungy and in desperate need of soap and water.
“It covers your body and prevents you from walking around naked, so I guess it does what it’s supposed to do,” I finally answered, mustering a casual tone.
Liam shook his head and looked up at the sky. “You’re a master at avoiding the true question, do you know that?”
“Actually, I have no idea what you’re talking about,” I replied innocently and nodded to the building in front of us. “This is me, by the way.”
Liam studied the block of flats like it was a shifty-looking geezer passing clear little plastic bags of powder around at a house party. His attention came back to me. “You live here?”
“Sure do.”
“What’s your flat number?”
Shit. I scrambled through my brain. “Thirty-six.”
Liam stepped up to the door entry system and scanned the row of buttons. “These only go up to thirty.”
I slammed my hand to my forehead. “Did I say thirty-six? I meant twenty-six. Yep, flat number twenty-six, that’s where I live, don’t wear it out.” Oh, God, somebody tape my mouth shut, please.
Liam stared at me so hard I swear he was going to burst a blood vessel. I thought he was going to start arguing with me, but instead he grabbed my hand and began leading me away from the flats. “Um, where are we going?”
“To my house.”
“But—”
“I swear to God, Iris, if you lie to me one more time I’ll arrest you.”
“You can’t arrest me. I haven’t broken any laws,” I protested.
“I’ll think of something.”
“But then you’d be breaking the law.”
He shot me a dark look, and even though it was supposed to be threatening, it was kinda sexy. “I’ve done it before. I can do it again.”
That shut me right up. Liam threw up his hand to hail a taxi and before I knew it he was ushering me into the back of a black cab.
“Evening, Constable,” the cabbie greeted. “Where to?”
Liam rambled off his address then sat back and avoided looking at me. I continued to stare him down. “This is kidnapping,” I said in a quiet voice, not wanting the driver to hear.
He let out a long, tired breath and turned his body to mine. When our eyes met in the dark cab, his seemed to plead with me to just let him take care of me.
We both know you need help, so let me help you, they said.
I like you, Iris. Stop fighting this, they said.
I’m afraid of what might happen to you if you don’t come with me, they said.
Maybe I was so used to the cold that I didn’t recognise the offer of warmth when it was staring me right in the face. Or maybe I really was too stubborn to accept charity when it was presented to me. Too proud.
I stuck out my chin and swallowed down that pride. Swallowed and swallowed until I could finally see the light. Accepting the offer of a room to rent from Liam and his brother didn’t mean I was weak. It meant I was a survivor. I always told myself I wasn’t above taking things for free, even if I hadn’t earned them. Babies took things for free. They took the protection of the grown-ups who bore them. That’s how they turned into adults who knew how to take care of themselves. And it wasn’t like I wasn’t prepared to pay rent. I’d earn my keep, just as if I was renting a room anywhere else.
“Fine,” I said after the longest silence of all time. “I’ll take Lee up on his offer.”
Four
Changes
Liam slotted his key in the door, then held it open for me. The house was quiet when I stepped inside and there was the smell of food recently cooked. Someone had probably just had dinner. A firm hand slid under the strap of my backpack. I glanced over my shoulder.
“Let me take this for you,” Liam said quietly.
I didn’t argue, too exhausted after the day and night I’d had. Instead I let him take my heavy backpack and
carry it into the house. He pushed open the living room door, revealing a sleek, modern set-up. Two women sat on the black leather couch watching TV. One of them had light brown hair, the other blonde. I vaguely recognised the brown haired one from being at the restaurant a few times.
“Soph, I didn’t know if you’d be around,” said Liam, addressing the brunette. “This is Iris. She works at the Grub Hut for Lee. She’s going to be our lodger since Stu’s room’s empty now.”
“Oh,” the woman exclaimed, eyeing me up and down, though not in a snooty way. She just seemed surprised at the news. Obviously, Lee hadn’t mentioned me to her, whoever she was. She mustered a wary smile, which I didn’t blame her for. I didn’t exactly look like anyone’s ideal housemate right then, dirty and bedraggled as I was.
“Hello, Iris,” she said in a friendly voice.
I lifted a hand. “Hi.”
The other woman, the blonde, gave me an outright bitchy look but didn’t speak. She had cruel lips, which was the main thing I noticed about her.
“This is Sophie,” said Liam. “She’s my cousin. She lives in the extension out back with her kids, Jonathan and Billie. And this is her friend, Valerie.”
“Hey,” said Valerie. Even her tone was bitchy. Jeez.
I nodded my greetings and both Liam and I turned to leave. We were just out the door when I heard Valerie speak. “Did you know about this, Soph?”
“No,” Sophie replied, hushed. “But it’s fine. Like Liam said, the room’s going spare.”
“Yeah, but shouldn’t you, like, at least get a say in who lives in the same house as you? That girl looks half feral.”
“She seems fine.”
A scoff. I made eye contact with Liam and saw his jaw tense. “Bet you a tenner she robs you all blind before the week is through.”
At that Liam turned and strode back into the living room. I waited outside, not wanting to be in the middle of whatever he was going to do.
“You got something to say, Val?”
I heard a loud huff then, “I’m only looking out for Sophie. She’s my best friend and I care about her living with some stranger she knows nothing about. Not to mention there’s the kids to consider.”
“Yeah well, she can trust Iris. She has my word on that. And if Sophie has any concerns she’s got a mouth of her own to voice them.”
Discomfort clutched at me. I should’ve known this was too good to be true. I wasn’t really welcome here. Maybe Lee and Liam were okay with it, but the rest of their family probably weren’t. I was already halfway to the front door when Liam’s voice stopped me.
“Where do you think you’re going?”
I stared at the floor. “This was a bad idea. I don’t want to cause trouble.”
He was in front of me in a few short strides. His hands came to rest on my shoulders. “Val’s always sticking her nose into other people’s business. Don’t listen to a word she says. Besides, Sophie’s fine with you staying here. You heard her say as much. Lee wants you here. I want you here, Iris.”
His passionately spoken words soothed some of my fears, his touch a comfort to my misgivings. I sucked in a deep breath and looked up at him. “Okay.”
“Yeah?”
“Mm-hmm.”
He squeezed my shoulders then let go. I already missed his touch. “Good, now let me give you a quick tour before I show you your room.”
I nodded and followed him into the kitchen, where he pointed out all the essentials, fridge, cooker, microware, cupboards. I was free to eat and use whatever I wanted, he said, but I knew I wouldn’t be touching a thing. He was already giving me too much just by providing a bed.
“Down that hall are Sophie and the kids’ rooms,” Liam went on then led me back out into the entrance hallway and up the stairs. When we got to the top he started pointing out rooms. “That one’s Lee and Karla’s,” he said, gesturing to the attic conversion. “That one’s Trevor’s but he’s away working at the moment. He started filming this reality TV show recently. We all can’t wait to see how it turns out.”
“Oh,” I said, remembering the few times his brother had visited the restaurant. He’d practically oozed charm and charisma, and I could definitely see him on a reality show. Not that I’d watched many of them in recent years.
“That one’s mine.” For some reason I couldn’t help blushing. Being so close to the place where he slept—potentially naked—caused heat to rush through my veins. “And lastly, this one’s yours,” he finished and pushed open the door.
The room was small and sparsely furnished, just a bed and a chest of drawers, magnolia-coloured walls, one window. It was perfect. More than I could ever ask for. Emotion rose to the surface, clogging my throat. I endeavoured to swallow it down, not wanting Liam to know how such genuine kindness was affecting me.
“I’ll just go grab you some blankets and clean sheets while you get settled in,” he said and promptly left. Maybe he sensed I needed a moment alone. I took one step into the room, then another. I walked to the window and looked out onto the street. I could see the row of houses on the other side, but it might as well have been a sprawling countryside view. And the small room might as well have been a palace. A trickle of happiness, of safety, seeped into my bones and made me want to cry again.
But no, not yet. I’d wait until Liam left me completely to my own devices before I let my emotions out. I sat down awkwardly on the bed just as he returned to the room. The softness underneath me felt strange, foreign. He paused on the threshold, eyeing me closely.
“You okay?”
I nodded but didn’t speak. I knew the second I breathed a word I was going to burst into tears, so I kept quiet. Liam’s gaze softened but he didn’t push me on the matter. Instead he held out a stack of items. “Here are some clean sheets, a duvet, and some pillows. There’s a towel in there, too, if you want to shower. Bathroom’s at the other end of the hall.”
Again, I nodded and swallowed.
He paused, like he wanted to say more but thought better of it. Giving me a tight smile, he retreated back to the doorway, “All right, well, I’ll let you get settled. Give a knock on my door if you need anything.”
As soon as he was gone I could breathe again. His kindness, his basic human decency, was more than I’d experienced in a very long time. I didn’t feel like I deserved it. I felt like it was too good to be true and soon the other shoe would drop.
Maybe Liam and his family would traffic me into prostitution, or try and keep me captive, turn me into a household slave—Josef Fritzl style. It was my vivid imagination running wild, of course, but I still couldn’t shake the feeling that this couldn’t last. Nothing good ever did for me.
“Or maybe you just don’t want to believe there are good people in the world,” said Bowie, coming to sit on the bed next to me. “Because if you admit that, then you might end up getting attached, and all attachments inevitably end in heartache.”
I stared at him, at the oversized eighties suit he wore and his mullet hairdo. “I loved Mum and then she died. I loved Becky and she died, too. I couldn’t handle loving someone else and having them die on me, or worse, betray me.”
“But what if they don’t? What if, God forbid, you actually find happiness? What then?”
I blew out a breath. “In my experience that’s very unlikely.”
Bowie eyed me wanly. “Oh, in the experience of your long twenty years on this earth?”
“No need to be so sarcastic.”
“Here’s the kicker, my dear Iris. Perhaps yes, in the grand scheme of things, all love ends in heartache, because we’re all going to die one day. But what if there are fifty, sixty, seventy years of happiness in between?”
With that he left me and I sat there soaking in the depth of his wisdom. He was right. Of course, he was. He was David frickin’ Bowie. But I was still afraid. Mistrustful. And fear and mistrust were difficult hurdles to overcome.
I smelled something funky and realised it was me. Remembering Lia
m’s mention of the bathroom, I quickly grabbed my things and headed in to shower. It took me a minute to figure out how everything worked, as I’d never used such a fancy contraption.
Hot steam filled the room and I made sure the door was locked before I undressed. When I hesitantly stepped under the spray I flinched at the heat and backed out. It took a while for me to summon up the courage to try again. I wary of standing directly under the shower head, but when I did I almost melted with the delicious warmth. I’d never known anything like it. The communal showers at the swimming pool had nothing on this. My sore, aching muscles sang with joy. The cold in my bones finally started to thaw.
And then, I wept.
I sank to the tiled floor, wrapped my arms around my knees, and wept for long minutes, until the water started to go cold. Feeling awful that I’d used up all the hot water, I stood, quickly washed myself down with soap and turned off the shower.
I was just finished dressing in a pair of worn black sweatpants and an old grey T-shirt when there was soft knock on the door. I startled then heard Liam ask, “Everything okay in there, Iris?”
“Yes, I’m fine,” I managed and unlocked the door.
I stepped out of the bathroom, my dirty clothes bundled in my arms and my hair wet. Liam’s nostrils flared when he saw me. His eyes wandered down my form then returned to my face. I thought I saw his throat bob as he swallowed.
“Good shower?” he asked, his voice oddly husky.
“Yes,” I breathed, my skin heating.
He didn’t move out of the way and he didn’t stop staring. Before I could ask if there was a problem he spoke. “You look so young.”
I frowned. “Pardon?”
He cleared his throat and clarified. “Without all the eyeliner, I mean.”
“Oh.” I usually coloured in my eyes with a black eyeliner pencil. It was the only makeup I wore, and I mostly only used it because it made my face look meaner. It made me look like someone you didn’t want to mess with, and you needed that when you lived on the streets.
