Birdcage

Chapter 5 Lila...

I had only been in the house five or ten minutes when I heard the knock at the door. I had taken my coat and heels off, and gone into the kitchen to put the kettle on and make something to eat when the sound startled me. I wasn't used to people visiting me here and it was getting late; late for a country girl like me anyway. I hesitated for a moment, wondering if they would go away or knock again - my heart beating irrationally hard in my chest. I don't know why I felt so nervous. Maybe it was because in the books I read, if someone was knocking on a lone woman's door in the middle of the night, it was because she was about to be kidnapped or murdered. I'm also not exactly known for my visitors.

I left the kettle to boil and slowly made my way to the front door, wrapping my arms around my waist, feeling a little cold. I look through the peep hole and see nothing but the empty street at the bottom of the steps. Maybe I took too long to answer and they thought no one was home. I should just go back to making my tea but something makes me want to investigate further, and suddenly the image of my beautiful stranger appears in my head. Which is crazy, he isn't going to be stood at my door - is he? My heart continues to hammer away, but this time it's thumping with anticipation - not worry. I open the door and can't help the feeling of disappointment when there is still no one there. I take a step out to look down the street but I nearly trip over something at my feet.

It's a brown paper bag, no tag on it. I don't know where it has come from but I'm guessing the person who knocked on the door left it there. It's probably for Maisie from one of her many admirers. I pick it up, all thoughts of my beautiful stranger gone and shut the door behind me. I head back to the kitchen and place the bag on the side. I finishing making my cup of tea and grab a tin of tomato soup out of the cupboard. I heat it up in the microwave and when it's ready I sit down at our little dining table and open up my book to carry on where I left off, eating my soup as I read. When I've finished my soup and tea, I close my book and wash my dishes. I'm about to head up to bed when curiosity gets the better of me and I have the urge to see what gift Maisie has been sent. I walk up to the bag and peep inside. It's not the usual romantic gifts that she sometimes receives and I now wonder if it is even for Maisie. I reach inside and grab the box. It's a brand-new iPhone with a yellow post-it note stuck to the front. I pluck it off, reading the words written on it, my heart jumping through my chest yet again. I'm going to have a heart attack by the end of the night if this keeps happening. The phone isn't for Maisie - it's for me. The note is written in pencil and reads;

'I'm sorry about the phone...please accept this one on me.

P.s Thanks for the kiss - really saved my arse.

X'

It's him; my beautiful stranger. He had been stood at my door, which is something I have mixed feelings about. I open the box to the pristine phone. The edge of the device is a pretty rose gold colour and it's a much more expensive upgrade from the one I had. I can't accept this - but I don't know how to return it to him. I desperately need one too. There are alarm bells ringing in the back of my head, telling me to question how he knew where I lived. The memory of feeling like I was being watched on my journey home comes back to me. I should be worried but I'm not. I'm more upset that he didn't want to give me it face to face and confused at the fact he told me I had somehow 'saved his arse'. What does that mean? Had he kissed me out of desperation? Of course he did. He probably saw a crazy ex coming his way and wanted to hide from her. Randomly kissing someone you've never met in the middle of the street is a little extreme though. More disappointment fills my stomach. I had unrealistic ideas of grandeur, that he had seen me from afar and it was love at first sight. There is a little voice in my head laughing at me and my stupidity right now.

I toy with what to do with the phone for a little longer and decide to use it; I don't have much choice. He did break mine so replacing it was the right thing to do. I take the phone and the box, switch off the lights downstairs and head up to my bedroom to get ready for bed. When I'm washed and, in my pyjamas, I grab my laptop from under my bed. I get under the duvet and set up the phone, linking it to my account. When I'm on the phone properly, I had the thought to scroll through my contacts to see if he had put his number in somewhere. He hadn't and I don't know why I wanted him too. I put the phone on to charge and settle down to try and go to sleep. I end up just laying there in the dark though, unable to stop all these thoughts and questions running through my head. The main one I keep asking myself though, is why do I have to be so pathetic?