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In a panic, I grabbed the first towel I could see, opened the door and ran across the landing to the shower room, hoping none of his housemates were up and about. I was lucky and, ten minutes later, came back into Mike’s room cleaner and fresher and feeling altogether more human although my vulva was very sore, my tummy ached deep inside from the battering it had received and I had a love bite on my lower neck. Mike was sitting at his desk when I entered, massaging his arm – the one I had slept on - and was making instant coffee for us both. I dressed as quickly as I could, pulling on knickers and tights, wrapping my best skirt around my waist and tucking a fresh, clean white blouse into its waistband. Mike handed me the hot drink while he pulled on his Levi’s and a University sweatshirt, then looked for his trainers. “We need to talk, Nic,” he said, his face unhappy. “We do, Mike, yes. But not until after my interview, please.” “But Nic!” “If you’re going to do the ‘wham bam. Some sort of weight lifted off of me, just a tiny bit, but I felt it lifting all the same, it felt good. I’d tell him soon, god knows I had to tell him about… ————————– ————————– I looked out my window at the cityscape, the lights glared in the dark, people going about their nightly business, thinking I was out there looking over them. Twelve years I’d been doing it, twelve years and now this… I’d just arrived home from the Morgue, the answering machine blinked, the memory full with messages from everyone who knew Veronica, from the limited amount of people who knew me. ‘I just heard…’ ‘I’m so sorry!’ ‘Do you need anything?’ ‘….always here if you need us!’ ‘What are you going to do???’ Then his voice came on. The deep, over melodramatic tones of Kavork. ‘Hellooooooooooooo ‘Shade’… Guess what! I was at your house recently, decided to drop in for a coffee, but you weren’t there! Your girl was though, and your son. You sinful sinful man, living in sin like that, god would not be.
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