“Why the hell didn’t you open the door? And you aren’t answering the phone! Mum’s terribly worried because she can’t get hold of you. She sent me over to check if you’re still alive!” she shouts. Just what I need, a furious Sophie. I slump down on the couch.
“It‘s Sunday. For heaven’s sake, I was asleep. Now you’ve seen that I’m alive you can go,” I grumble. I am so not in the mood for a lecture. But Sophie is very tenacious.
“You promised to come to our parents’ for lunch today, how could you forget?” I roll my eyes. Of course I’d forgotten, everything blanked out by my personal drama.
“I’ll visit them next weekend, promise,” I mumble contritely. Sophie looks at me critically.
“You look terrible!” she exclaims, pointing at my swollen eyes.
“I don’t feel so hot either. Headache,” I improvise. “And I wasn’t expecting visitors.” As always I’m defensive with Sophie, but small wonder when I’m sitting here in my crumpled pyjamas without any makeup on whilst she looks like a model on the way to a party. Suddenly I realise who she reminds me of, or the other way round, who reminds me of my sister: immaculate, perfect Ruth. I feel anger rising against these two blonde, arrogant girls who have it all. “Could you leave me alone now?” I yell at Sophie unexpectedly. She winces, not being used to such outbursts from meek old me.
“What’s eating you?” she asks, shaking her head and getting up. “We never see you anymore, nobody knows what you’re up to, you’re becoming a total hermit. And now you're yelling at me like a lunatic.” Oh, not another Sophie inquisition! I put my hands on my hips and suppress the urge to stamp my foot.
“Hermit, my arse! You don’t know anything about my life! I’m having more fun than ever before,” I hiss at her. Well, not yesterday. Maybe never again. But she doesn‘t have to know that.
“And could I know whom with?” she screeches. Oh my, a full-blown family row! “Maybe the mysterious Natalie who you allegedly spent New Year’s Eve with?” Allegedly? Angrily I press my lips together. Why the hell doesn’t she believe me?
“Yes, with her, her brother and their friends,” I reply huffily. Right, I had been at least, before I made a fool of myself. Sophie is still watching me, a sceptical look on her face.
“What did you do yesterday that put you in such a state today?” I heave a sigh, she never gives up, does she? She’s going to be one hell of a lawyer.
“I had dinner with friends,” I reply patiently. Probably for the last time.
“And who are they?” she probes. I’m getting really fed up now.
“It’s none of your business, but to get you off my back, he’s called William Summer, lives in the penthouse at Rampton Towers, and works as a librarian. Are you happy now?” Sophie knits her brows.
“Then my friend Moira should know him, she lives at Rampton Towers too.” Enough is enough.
“Sophie, just piss off. I know you’re older than me but you don’t have to monitor my life, you know?” Sophie raises her hands in apology.
“Calm down, we just want to know who you are friends with.” I know from past experience that discussion with her is fruitless, so I try to get rid of her as fast as possible.
“Right, I want to go back to bed now, my headache is still terrible.” Sophie just nods and strolls to the door.
“Call mum, please, she’s really worried.” Finally she opens the door. “By the way, there’s a wilted rose on your doorstep.” She bends down, retrieving the flower. It looks rather sorry, petals drooping, and I’d rather leave it outside but Sophie is already back in my flat, fills a glass with water and puts the flower in it. When she turns to leave I have the sudden urge to make peace with her.
“I’m sorry for being rude, it’s just a bad time.” Sophie smiles at me.
“Never mind. See you soon and don’t forget to call mum,” she reminds me one last time. Relieved I close the door behind her and look at the crimson rose. Could it really be meant for me? Surely not. Maybe someone lost it on the staircase. Nothing mysterious about it. I drink a large glass of water and go back to bed.
The next afternoon I wander aimlessly through the streets. I don’t feel the drizzle, nor do I notice the people around me. I’m moving through some kind of private fog, separated from everybody else. I’m not hungry and I don’t want to sleep in case the nightmares return. Last night was even worse than the night before. Again I dreamt about the cold lake. When the cathedral clock strikes five I notice that I’m in exactly the same spot where I saw Natalie for the first time. That had been an equally gloomy day. The small deli is to my right, maybe I should drop in. But the shop window is empty and the door closed. I contemplate going to the Spanish bar but in the end I reject the idea of trying to create coincidences. If I want to see Natalie I simply have to call her.
Back home I look for my mobile which is lying switched off under a pillow. It bleeps as soon as I turn it on. To my amazement the list of texts and missed calls is quite long. Sophie again, yesterday evening. “According to Moira there’s no William Summer at Rampton Towers. Be careful!” I roll my eyes and delete the message. I’ve been in his flat, haven’t I? I scroll down the missed calls list: Natalie, Natalie, Will, Natalie, Natalie, an unknown number twice, all today. Yesterday’s list is similar: Natalie nine times, Will four times and the unknown number an amazing twelve times. It has to be a wrong number. But I’m really relieved that Natalie and Will have tried to call me, and for the first time since Saturday evening I feel better. They’ve tried to contact me, regardless of what Cassius might have told them. Obviously they still want to be friends with me and I’m kind of ashamed of my irrational fears. Friends don’t drop you at the first mistake, do they? Quickly I dial Natalie’s number, I have to talk to her and explain. She picks up at the first ring.
“Livia, thank god, I was afraid something had happened to you when I couldn’t reach you on Sunday or today. I was really worried, Will too, when Cassius said that you weren’t home on Sunday.”
“Um, Cassius?” I interrupt her, a sinking feeling in my stomach. “How would he know?”
“He went to your flat twice when you didn’t answer your phone. What have you done to him, by the way?” I feel the heat rise in my body but try to stay calm. Obviously she doesn’t know what happened on Saturday. But I feel I have to tell her.
“Um, nothing,” I stutter. “Look, I have to talk to you but not on the phone. Something happened on Saturday and I thought you’d know by now.” My confused words simply tumble out before I can stop them.
“What happened? Tell me!” Natalie cries excitedly. “Nobody knows a thing!” Relief rushes through me and I close my eyes. Thank you, god!