“Well, yeah. You don’t leave your number in the pockets of people you’ve tried to kill if you don’t want them to call.”
“And you don’t offer to pick things up where we left off, without leaving a form of contact.” I sat up straighter.
“You were in no state to, so I did. Could have always just turned up to your address, I suppose.”
My eyes widened as I froze, “What do you mean?”
Her tone elevated slightly as she reeled off my address, “38 Ellershaw something or other, right?”
Shit! How the hell did she remember that? Surely the docs at the psych ward pumped her full of enough drugs to forget something as small as my address.
“You seriously fucking remembered that?” A low snigger sounded down the line as my mind struggled to keep up with her.
“Um, yeah? I like to hold onto information that could be useful to me.” Her words dripped with an ominous threat.
“You’re not coming to my place.” At this point, I felt like I was in a standoff with a cobra. Toying with its food, unable to predict when it would strike.
“Oh? fair enough. How about Abattoir Street? Storage yard. Back gate. Midnight.”
Was this going to be it? our chosen arena? Wouldn’t have been my first choice, but anything was better than her turning up at this shit hole.
“That place is locked up tighter than my mum's purse strings. You’ll never get in.” A slight chuckle escaped me.
“Wow, you really do continue to underestimate me. You sound like you’ve tried to get in yourself. Got outsmarted by a rusty padlock, did ya?” If looks could kill at this point, then I’d be on a murderous streak—the irritation from her words grating on me. I shook my head as my smile grew wide.
“Alright, I’ll bite. Guess I’ll see you later then.” A challenge accepted or a death wish.
“Alright, I’m bored now. See you then.” The line disconnected, leaving me in a state of excitement and unease. My fingers lightly tapped the phone against my lips as I reflected on the conversation that had just occurred. I stood up, placed my phone back into my pocket, and went back inside. Thoughts of Misfit were still running rampant around my mind, as Squeeks jumped from around the banister, heading back towards me.
“Well, you got far.” Her eyes looked me up and down as I stood in the kitchen, still shirtless and wearing last night’s jeans.
“Gimme a sec, ok, heads fucking pounding.” I pushed past her, leaving her standing by the table as I ventured up the stairs. Danny’s snoring bellowed through the hallway as I got closer to our room. Pushing the door open, I slumped my body down onto the bed, resting my head in my hands for a moment. Why did I agree to take her to Chester’s? What was she hoping to find? Chester sat there, smiling as if nothing had happened, welcoming us back with open arms.
I highly fucking doubt it.
Chester was gone, especially if Danny had anything to do with it; that fucker knew how to make shit disappear if he wanted to. Why would a person be any different?
Lifting myself from the bed, I searched the floor for one of my countless hoodies Squeeks had borrowed, leaving them scattered across the floor. Slipping it over my head, I felt the chill of the fabric causing my skin to ripple with goosebumps. Accompanied by a sickly feeling churning around in my stomach. I headed for the door, being met with the ghostly face of my mum, slumped against the wall, fiddling with her dressing gown cord.
“Rough night?” My eyebrows raised to her as my tone was filled with sarcasm.
“Could say the same about you. You look like shit.” I scoffed as I turned, heading for the stairs.
“Always a pleasure mum.” She shouted after me as my feet hit the stairs at a hurried pace.
“Where you going?” I ignored her; she never cared where I went, normally.
Squeeks met me at the bottom, looking up towards mum as she stood at the top, hip cocked as if she was looking for a fight. “Don’t ignore me! Where are you going?”
I snapped, glaring at her through my brow, “OUT!” Slamming the door behind me as we set off down the street.
The walk to Chester’s flat felt longer than I remembered, though maybe that was just the weight of Misfits' phone call pressing on my mind. Squeeks walked beside me, chewing on her thumbnail, her steps quickening against my strides. We reached the narrow stairwell leading up to Chester’s. The paint was peeling from the railing, and the door at the top was faded, decorated with countless notices. I paused, letting out a breath as Squeeks turned to me.
“You sure you wanna do this?” I asked. Squeeks nodded firmly as she set off up the steps before me. She cupped her hands against the door, looking through the small arch-shaped window. “Still looks the same.” I lowered my gaze to the doorstep, crouching down, pulling up the corner of the mat. Revealing the spare key Chester had always let me use when I needed to. My face gained a small smirk as I held it up to Squeeks, “Some things never change.”
I rose to my feet, placing the key into the lock. The crumpled notices fell to the floor as I pushed the door open with my shoulder, a creak echoing down the hallway. I stepped in first, flipping the light switch out of habit. Nothing. The bulb had given up long ago. The air inside was stale; a thin coat of dust had settled over his belongings. I didn’t say anything, just stepped inside with Squeeks following behind me, pushing thedoor closed. She didn’t say anything either, just watched me move slowly through the flat. It was exactly the same, my mind trying to recall the last time I was here.
The sagging sofa with a cigarette burn on the armrest. Chester's crumpled band hoodie was still draped over the back of the worn armchair. The cracked mug he used every morning remains on the windowsill, as if it had been waiting. But no one has been here, not for a long time.
