Vice (H.S)

CHAPTER 17 - PHONE CALLS

The distant chime of the telephone sounds in the distance.

I open one heavy lid at the disruption.

"Miss Elwin?" A soft knock echoes throughout my quiet bedroom as I rest my eyes. Roberta, the housekeeper, knocks once more, her soft voice filling the silence. "The telephone is for you."

I rise slowly, still feeling shaken by Niall's outburst. My head pounds as I come to my feet, making my way out into the hall. Roberta offers me a shy smile, furtive and safe. She could hear the shouting. I stifle the embarrassment that rises.

She hands off the receiver, backing away to give me privacy, returning to her chores.

I clear my throat before speaking. "Hello?" My voice is low, quiet.

There's no response, though I can hear the intonation of someone breathing at the other end of the call.

I repeat my inquiry. "Hello?"

"I just—"

My eyes screw shut at the sound of his voice.

I inhale sharply as he continues, leaning into the telephone as if I could hold onto him. "I just wanted to make sure you got home alright."

"Harry."

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have called."

"How did you get this number?" He's silent from his end, his heavy breaths giving away the only signs of life. "I'm not exactly... in the phone book."

He chuckles, and I can almost see the smile on his face, I can see the way his eyes must light up. "I may have gotten it out of Peggy. Made up an excuse, said I found your missing church gloves. Though she didn't quite seem to believe me." He chuckles, his voice carrying through the phone, and my heart aches at the thought of him, the image of him leaning against the phone booth on the corner.

He told me about the phone booth on Westwood and Mercury, just a few steps from his front door. His home. I wonder what it looks like, surely stacked full of books and plants and life and color.

I'm silent for a moment, picturing that place. I'm entranced by the sounds of his breath, the cold feel of the telephone against my cheek, wishing it were his warm hand instead.

"He reeked of alcohol," his voice carries, interrupting my pleasant imaginings.

My eyes water, threatening tears, and I clear my throat to regain some composure.

"I know. I should've noticed, but I didn't."

"No," he begins, pausing. "No, I should never have let him drive away with you in the car."

"Harry," I start, but... I'm unsure of what to say.

I wish you had stopped me.

I wish you were here right now.

I wish you could take me away from this place.

Instead, I stay silent.

"When will I see you again?" he asks quietly, barely a whisper through the line. The telephone cord is a tangled knot in my hand and I twine my fingers anxiously in the coil.

I open my mouth to speak, but I'm cut off by mother's voice carrying through the house.

"Elwin!" she calls brightly. I swipe the tears from my cheeks and clear my throat for a final time. I cover the receiver, calling back to her.

"Coming, mother!" I hear Harry sigh from his end.

"Wait, Elwin, I—"

"I'm sorry. I have to go."