Other People's Bodies

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Other People's Bodies Page 3

by Amy Cross

"Hey," says Hayley. "Have you started to recover from your horrific accident?"

  "Accident?" I reply, confused.

  "I assumed you'd been in an accident," she says. "Why else would you refuse to answer my calls for two weeks?"

  "I'm answering now, aren't I?"

  "I was starting to think you'd disappeared off the face of the earth," Hayley replies.

  "Not quite," I say, smiling as I look over at the distant horizon, the hazy line that marks the meeting of sea and sky. "Close, though".

  "So Lloyd's bugging me for your new number," Hayley continues. "Sorry, but I figured I should tell you. If he's asking me, that means he's desperate, so he's probably asking everyone else too".

  "Good job no-one else has my new number," I reply, swallowing hard.

  "No-one?"

  "No-one".

  "I'm flattered," Hayley replies, "but don't you think it might be a good idea to just let him know you're okay?"

  "He knows I'm okay," I say coldly.

  "He's worried about you. I think he just wants to make sure you're not in any trouble. I know a lot happened between you two, but I think he wants to stay friends. He also..." She pauses for a moment. "He said there's something he wants to tell you, something important. He wouldn't give me a clue, but he says -"

  "I don't care," I say firmly.

  "I know, but -"

  "I don't care!" I repeat. "Come on, Hayley, I need you to be on my side here".

  "I am!"

  "I'm not his concern. Not anymore. Whatever I do and whatever happens to me, it's none of his fucking business. He lost any rights when he fucked me over. It's just a shame that his life is so empty and vapid that he's still clinging onto the past".

  "You want me to tell him that?"

  "No!" I say, trying not to raise my voice. "I don't want you to tell him anything! He's got no right asking after me, and -" Suddenly I notice something nearby, and I look over to see a seagull hopping guiltily across the gravel path. Something is hanging from its mouth, and it takes me a moment to realize that it's a perfectly round, slightly gloopy-looking eyeball, complete with a trailing optic nerve that hangs down almost to the ground. "Gross," I mutter.

  "You still there?" Hayley asks.

  "Yeah," I reply, unable to keep my eyes off the seagull as it hops and skips right past me, keeping the gruesome prize wedged in its beak.

  "So you don't want me to tell him anything?" Hayley continues.

  "No," I say, "I don't even see why he's -"

  Suddenly the seagull squashes the eyeball in its beak, and a mess of gray and white pulp oozes out and onto the floor.

  "That's the most disgusting thing I've ever seen," I say, watching as the seagull swallows what's left of the eyeball and then takes off, soaring high into the bright blue sky.

  "What is?" Hayley asks.

  "Nothing," I reply, realizing that I don't want to say anything that might give away my location. As far as I'm concerned, I'm starting an entirely new life, and I see no reason to cling on to the vestiges of the world I've left behind. Even giving Hayley my new number might have been a mistake. "Just ignore Lloyd," I continue. "He's got no right to keep bugging you, so tell him to go fuck himself. I don't care if you have to get a restraining order and change your number, just keep him well away. And tell him you don't know where I am. It's true, you don't".

  "Where are you?"

  "I'm fine".

  "Fine isn't a place, Laura. I worry about you! The way you took off -"

  "And I worry about you," I reply firmly. "Doesn't mean I make a fuss about it. Life goes on. We can't all sit around moping about the past. I'll be in touch soon. I promise". With that, I cut the call and, after a moment's contemplation, I force the back off the phone and remove the sim card, which I immediately rip in half. Damn it, that felt good and bad at the same time. Still, I can't have Hayley constantly trying to phone me up and remind me of the past. The past is over. I've got a new job now, and my future is at the Heights.

  Elizabeth

  Five years ago

  "I'm going back to school next week," Juliet says, as we sit over by the window. It's getting late, and while Luke and Victor are engaged in an animated conversation at the table, Juliet and I have come over to get to know one another a little better. I can't put my finger on it, but there's something a little sad about her demeanor, and I had a sufficiently difficult childhood of my own to know that sometimes it's good just to have someone new to talk to.

  "Are you looking forward to seeing your friends again?" I ask.

  She shrugs.

  "You miss home, huh?"

  She frowns.

  "So where do you go to school?" I ask, trying to keep the conversation going.

  "A long way away," she says. "It's a boarding school, so I'll be there for months".

  "That sounds kind of fun," I reply. "I'm sure you'll have lots of fun stories to tell when you get there. Have you had a good summer?"

  "It was okay," she replies flatly. Frankly, everything about Juliet seems muted, as if she can't shake a kind of melancholy sadness.

  "I bet you'll have a great time," I continue, running out of ways to try cheering her up.

  "Will you still be here when I get back?" she asks.

  "Me?" I pause, feeling as if I'm in the spotlight. "I just came to visit," I tell her. "I'm your brother Luke's friend".

  "You're not his friend," she replies, smiling for the first time this evening. "You're his girlfriend. Are you going to come and live here?"

  "Well -"

  "He wants you to," she continues. "They all want you to".

  I take a deep breath. "We'll see," I reply, figuring I should be as noncommittal as possible. I haven't known Luke long enough to be thinking about a serious arrangement just yet, and the idea of living at the Heights is kind of overwhelming. Still, I'm not as opposed to the prospect as I might have been a little while ago. Glancing over at Luke, I see that he and his father seem a little agitated as they continue to talk. Perhaps the cracks are finally starting to show.

  Laura

  Today

  "Wow!" I say, struggling to sound enthusiastic, "it's so... cosy!"

  I'm standing in the doorway of my accommodation, which is a lot less spacious than I'd expected. In my mind's eye, I'd imagined a small apartment tucked away neatly at the back of the hotel. Instead, I've been given a room. Just a single, extremely small room, with a little bed over by the window, a wardrobe by the far wall, and a small sink in the corner. The room is about six feet wide and no more than ten feet long, and it seems to have been decorated some time in the Victorian era. A precarious-looking old lamp hangs from a loose fitting in the center of the ceiling, and with its peeling wallpaper and faintly damp smell, the room seems in many ways to sum up the entire hotel.

  "The bathroom..." I say cautiously, already knowing that I probably won't like the answer.

  "Down the hall," the maid says humorlessly. "The rooms in this wing don't have en suite facilities, so you have to share. There's usually a maximum of six occupied rooms in this part of the building, so if you want my advice, you'll take a shower very early or very late. Just don't expect any hot water around rush hour. The pipes in this place ain't so good, so it's kind of first come first served, if you know what I mean".

  "That's fine," I reply, forcing myself to smile. "I've never been one of those people who get hung up on private bathrooms anyway".

  "Most likely," the maid says, staring at me dourly, "you won't get any hot water at all".

  "Hot water's overrated," I say. "I'm sure a cold shower will help me wake up in the mornings".

  "You got any bags with you?" the maid asks sceptically.

  "I have some personal items in my car".

  "Personal items?"

  "Clothes, mainly. A few other things".

  "That it?"

  "I couldn't bring much," I tell her. "It's a small car".

  "You won't fit much in here," the maid continues, stating the obvio
us. "You want my advice? Don't clutter it up. Keep things simple. If you want to store stuff, there's some space in the basement, although it gets a little moist sometimes. You also need to keep the door clear, 'cause of fire regulations and all that crap".

  "I really don't have many things with me," I reply. "I'll be fine".

  "Breakfast, lunch and dinner are in the main hall, just to the left of reception," the maid explains, sounding unimpressed. "The times are on the brochure by the bed, and live-in staff have to stick to the same hours as the guests, which can be kinda awkward sometimes if you've got an early start. If there's anything else you want to know, they'll be able to tell you at reception". Sighing, she seems bored by the whole situation. "One other thing. I can have my girls clean your room every day if you want, but to be honest, I was hoping you'd be happy with, like, every three or four days, something like that. Just to take the stress of, you know? Maybe once a week?"

  "Sure," I say. "In fact, don't worry about it at all. I can look after my own room".

  "Let me know if you want to borrow a vacuum cleaner," the maid replies with a sniff, before turning and making her way along the corridor.

  "Are you sure this is the right room?" I call after her. "I mean, are you absolutely certain?"

  "One-four-five," the maid replies, without even bothering to look back at me. "Says so right on the door".

  "Yeah," I say, looking at the brass number plate before glancing down at the key in my hands. "One-four-five. I guess this is home".

  Taking a deep breath of musty air, I step into the room and push the door shut. For a moment, I stand in complete silence, and I find it hard not to think about the constant stream of mistakes and fuck-ups that have led me to this little room. I always thought that, by my late twenties, I'd be settled with a man and a family, but instead I'm moving into a box room and getting ready to start a new job, hiding away in a remote part of the country. Still, I figure it's more than I deserve. In fact, given the things I've done in the past and the people I've hurt, I can't help but think that it's far, far better than I deserve.

  Elizabeth

  Five years ago

  "My brother's an asshole," Luke says as he pulls his shirt over his head and drops it on a nearby chair. "Always has been, always will be. I mean, would it have killed him to have come and said hello to you?"

  "He was just busy," I reply, even though I kind of agree with Luke. It is pretty weird that this Edward Bannister guy apparently couldn't spare two minutes to come and say hello. Even if he didn't have time to sit down and eat dinner, the fact that he made no effort at all is, if I'm honest, pretty strange. Still, I'm sure there's a perfectly reasonable explanation. Well, maybe...

  "It's nothing to do with you," Luke continues, removing his trousers before sitting next to me on the bed. Wearing just his boxers, he looks incredibly hot, and it's hard to keep my hands off his chiseled, well-defined body. "It's Edward," he continues, clearly lost in thought. "He's my brother and all, but there's something wrong with him. There's something seriously fucking wrong in his head".

  "He sounds like a workaholic," I reply, standing up and pulls my dress off. "Every family has one. Nobody's perfect".

  "You're perfect," Luke says, smiling as he pulls me back down onto the bed and climbs on top of me. "I told you everyone'd love you here. Juliet was staring at you with big puppy-dog eyes the whole evening. Since our mother died, she's kind of been the only girl here. No pressure, but I think it's good for her to be able to talk to you".

  "She seems nice," I reply. "I'd like to talk to her some more".

  "Then you'll just have to spend more time here," he replies, leaning down and kissing me gently, while the bulge in his underwear presses delicately against the crotch of my panties. Before I can reply, he slips his tongue into my mouth and I realize we're going to make love again. This happens most nights, and we're still at the stage where we're fascinated by one another's bodies. The question that's gnawing at the back of my mind, however, is whether or not Luke Bannister is the kind of guy I'll still want to be with when the first waves of passion have worn off.

  Laura

  Today

  "Getting off work?" I ask, jumping to my feet as I spot the female receptionist from earlier emerging from the building. I've been waiting for precisely this moment, hoping that I might be able to ambush the receptionist and initiate some kind of conversation. All I can think about right now is that I could really use someone to talk to, and I want to strike before the manager-employee relationship crystallizes and makes everything too formal.

  The receptionist pauses and eyes me suspiciously. "Yeah," she says eventually, her voice filled with suspicion. She's pretty, despite what a crooked nose that appears to have been broken at some point in the past, but the most striking thing about Rachel is her eyes, which seem constantly alert and defensive, as if she expects to be attacked at any moment.

  "Have you got a pokey little room too?" I continue.

  "What?"

  "Your room. Is it small?"

  "Uh... No".

  "Seriously? Man, that's totally unfair. They gave me a goddamn box room!" I know I'm forcing the conversation a little, but I feel that I need to try making a new friend. Having decided to abandon my old life completely and cut even Hayley out of the loop, she want to make some new connections and, hopefully, find out a little more about the family who run this place. "I guess they gave me the smallest room in the entire building," I continue. "Probably some kind of character-building exercise to make sure I understand the hotel from the ground up".

  "I live in town," the receptionist says, offering the least possible amount of information.

  "You do?"

  "Sure".

  "How far's that?" I ask, shielding my eyes from the sun.

  "About a half hour drive each way," she says with a sigh.

  "Cool. What's it like? Is it worth a visit?"

  "Not really".

  "No shops or anything?"

  "Not really".

  There's an awkward pause. It's clear that things aren't going too well, and I figure that maybe I should try a different approach.

  "I'm sorry," I say eventually, stepping forward with an outstretched hand, "I didn't introduce myself properly. Laura Kingston. I'm going to be the new general manager, working directly under Edward. I'm basically gonna be coming in, messing everything up, disrupting everyone and generally making a pain in the ass of myself. I hope you won't hold it against me".

  "I'll try not to," the receptionist replies, shaking my hand limply and without any enthusiasm. "Rachel. Rachel Harvey. I'm sorry, I have to get going".

  "Mind if I walk with you?" I ask, determined to keep trying. I know full well that I'm being pushy, but I figure this whole hotel is like a big closed community and I'm going to have to be a little forceful if I want to make any personal connections. I'm a big believer in the idea that managers should be on good terms with their teams, and I feel that maybe, just maybe, I sensed a spark of understanding earlier between myself and Rachel. "I just want to get to know the staff here," I continue. "You know, on a personal level rather than just reading about you in a folder".

  "Sure," Rachel says as we begin to make our way across the gravel, heading for the car park. It's clear from the tone of her voice, however, that she's hating every second of the conversation.

  "How long have you worked here?" I ask.

  "Two years".

  "You like it?"

  "It's a job. It's better than anything else round here".

  "Have you thought about progression within the hotel?"

  "What do you mean?" Rachel asks as we stop by a small blue car and she fishes her keys from her pocket.

  "Do you want to be a receptionist all your life," I continue, hoping to get Rachel's attention by offering her something new, "or would you be interested in maybe moving into a more senior role? I'm thinking I should start promoting from within. Hiring people who already know the hotel, that kind of thin
g".

  "I don't know," Rachel replies, unlocking her door. "I'm fine. Edward's looking after me".

  I force a smile as I watch Rachel maneuver herself awkwardly into the cramped driver's seat. Sure, she looks like she's doing okay, but I can't help thinking that maybe I could turn Rachel into an important ally. After all, I'm going to need someone on my side if I'm going to be able to force the Bannisters into modernizing their hotel. Despite everything Edward said earlier, I still feel that he might not be entirely happy with some of my more radical ideas.

  "I'm only going home for a few hours," Rachel continues, clearly uncomfortable as she attaches her seat belt. "I'll be back on shift at six tonight. I'm really fine with what I do, though, and I'm pretty sure that Mr. Bannister's happy with me. I'm not looking for anything else at this moment in time, and I doubt that my situation will be any different in the near future".

  "If you change your mind -"

  "I won't," she says, pulling the door shut. "Thanks for the consideration, but I have no interest in changing anything. Zero. Not everyone wants to be the boss, you know. I just like answering phones". With that, she starts the engine and backs out of her parking spot, leaving me to watch as she drove away.

  "Sure," I mutter to myself, feeling as if that little introduction couldn't really have gone much worse. Sure, it 's still early days, but so far I'm not getting the impression that the people here are the friendliest bunch. Then again, I guess I have to remember that I'm not here to make friends; I'm here to work, so I should probably just get my head down and focus on my new job. Sighing, and feeling as if I'm totally at a loose end, I turn and head back to the hotel. I'm bored, and when I get bored, I usually do one thing and one thing only...

  Elizabeth

  Five years ago

  As I squeeze him tightly between my hips, I feel him reach up to cup my breasts. This is the first time I've ever gone on top when we've made love, and it's as if I'm completely in control. I can feel him growing inside me, getting closer and closer to the point of pure pleasure, but I'm not going to let him finish yet. Moving myself slowly against him, I tease him just a little more, and he lets out a brief gasp. He's so used to leading, to setting the pace, and now he's finding out how I like to do things.

 

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