A Fractured Echo

Chapter 10

                  
Moving into Constance's house rapidly became the best decision I'd ever been talked into...after accepting the job with Ruby of course.  It provided a level of safety and security I hadn't realised I was in need of until Jackson broached the subject.  It wasn't just the inherent fear of returning to a place I no longer felt able to consider home anymore.  It wasn't even the trepidation at encountering Cheryl again regardless of her residency being terminated, but seeing as she'd been released on bail until they concluded their investigation, she was perfectly capable of further reprisals.  This had me feeling reluctant to go near the building.  Why tempt fate?  There was another underlying element of relief coming from the knowledge that my place in the house in Chalk Farm always had a time limit, not approaching any time soon, but none the less one it had always been this little concern at the back of my mind. 

The more I rationalised the choice I'd made, the more peace I felt from knowing my housing situation was no longer a worry.  It was a revelation to be unburdened, in this way.  It wasn't even a pressure or concern I'd consciously felt, but clearly, it had always been festering in the background.

Transitioning from one home to the other was much smoother than I could have anticipated, given the majority of my belongings were already at the house in Notting Hill.  I'd not seen much point in unpacking when I'd arrived, thinking I'd only be there for a few days, so the boxes had sat forlornly in the corner by the distressed armoire dominating the room.  Even though I was comfortable with the situation, it had still taken a further week to start making the room my own, with Constance threating to do it herself if I didn't start to properly treat the place like my home.

Telling Jodie also proved a lot easier than anticipated.  We'd spoken on New Year's Day to arrange a coffee and catch up for the following day.  When she'd arrived at the house in Notting Hill, the moment I opened the front door she blurted it out.  No 'hello', no 'Happy New Year', or 'I missed you'.  There was no accusation in her declaration either, no trace of animosity, just sad acceptance as she stated: "you aren't coming back".  As I confirmed her thoughts, her simple response was, 'Good, you're better than that shit hole, now get the kettle on.'

We'd ended up spending a lovely afternoon hunkered down in the warmth of the front room, curled up on the sofa nursing cups of tea and working our way through a Victoria Sandwich cake I'd baked.  Constance had returned from her lunchtime bridge game and joined us, informing Jodie to remember the door was always open for her.  We chatted casually about me returning to work on Monday, the forthcoming date with Tristan and the all-important question of what I would do about the rest of my belongings. 

It was a dilemma which had been burning a hole in my brain since I'd agreed to move in.

There were only a few things left behind on Christmas Day such as the armchair, books and the like, but it wasn't really something I could collect easily on the bus or in a taxi.  What I actually needed was Jackson to give me a lift, but he'd done so much for me already it just felt wrong asking him to do even more for me...even though I knew he'd readily agree to help.  While I figured out what to do, Jodie had transferred everything salvageable into her room in the short term.  So much of it had been a complete write-off, everything remaining now fit neatly into four small plastic crates she'd picked up from the shops, knowing full well I'd have no desire to set foot back in my room ever again.

I hadn't even mentioned it to her, she just knew, and did what she felt needed to be done. 

As Jodie prepared to leave so she could get ready for work, Constance had taken her to one side while I cleared the tea things.  Returning from the kitchen, I caught them at the end of their conversation, which resulted in Constance pulling Jodie into a familiar looking hug.