A Likely Story

16. bend back

Two days passed in which I didn't confront Charlie about lying to me.

I'd gone over it countless times, including the possibility that he'd simply said the wrong date by accident, but who the hell forgot their birthday? Wasn't it meant to be the one date that was forever ingrained into one's memory, never to be forgotten?

“Are you sure there isn't anything wrong?” he asked on the third day, turning to face me suddenly with his arms full of books as we stood side by side, slotting them into the shelves in front of us. The whole process had been horribly silent up until that point. “Lu?” he asked, when I didn't respond.

His voice shook me out of the messy web of what-ifs and maybes that had surrounded me from the morning I'd found out that he had lied.

He had lied. It sounded so completely over-dramatic, like I was on some badly written sitcom. It didn't have to be a big deal, so why was I making it such a big deal? I felt like my mind was going rotten with bad ideas about someone who usually made me want to jump up and down with joy at the thought of, and I was completely miserable as a result.

I looked at him, trying to keep my expression carefully blank, but knowing that my emotions were probably laid out on my face for anyone to read. “I'm fine,” I replied, glancing at the floor and pulling at a loose thread on my top.

“Why're you acting like this then?” he asked desperately. “What have I done?” Lied. God, it killed me how stupid that sounded. It sounded ridiculously petty, but more than half the reason of why I wasn't saying anything was probably comprised of that alone.

I stared at him agonizingly, wondering what to say, when suddenly I heard footsteps coming up the stairs, and Maureen's head appeared in the doorway. “I need one of you to go downstairs and help me unload the books that have just been delivered!”

“I'll go,” I said quickly. It took every ounce of willpower to stop myself from glancing back at him, because I knew that if I did, I would die and die and die some more before conveniently sinking into the ground, never to be see again.

***

It was cold the next morning because the sun obviously hadn't been bothered to get up when I'd been forced to. When I hadn't appeared in the kitchen after nine fifteen, my mother had walked up to my room and shaken me until I'd woken. “Get up! You forgot to set your alarm!”

“No I didn't,” I mumbled. “I don't want to go today.”

I saw her eyes narrow through my half-opened ones.

“You haven't asked Charlie about the birthday thing yet, have you?” I was silent. “Lula!” she said sternly. “The poor boy's probably driving himself crazy wondering what he's done!”

“I'm driving myself crazy wondering what I've done!” I retorted.

“Well you wouldn't be if you'd confronted him about it!” she replied crossly. I closed my eyes. She was right, but I didn't want to. At all.

“Come on, get up; you're going.”

“Mummm-”

“You're going.”

“But it's colddd-”

“You're going.”

I looked at her pleadingly. “I can't, reall-”

She stoppped me halfway through my sentence, sitting down on my bed. “I know exactly why you don't want to go. You need to talk to him, Lula, otherwise you'll end up ruining everything all by yourself.” She gave me a tug. “Go on love.”

I gave her a dirty look, but sat up and flounced over to my wardrobe in a manner that hadn't made an appearance since I was about five.

She smiled. “That's my girl.”

I pulled my jacket tighter around me as I walked past the hardware store that was located right next to the bookshop. It was bloody freezing for summer. Well, eleven degrees. I found myself smiling a little at how weak I'd become; it really did get bloody freezing in the winter, going down to the minus degrees, but whenever it got even a little cold in the summer everyone sighed heavily and pulled out their massive coats, stoking fires left right and centre.

Suddenly, movement to my left made me look around. I found myself looking into the small alleyway-move of a gap really- in between the hardware store and A Likely Story. Standing there was a very slim woman, with poker straight blonde hair brushing her shoulders. She was holding a small bottle of eyedrops (I'd once had an eye infection and as a result had been forced to cart about five bottles of the stuff with me where ever I went- they weren't big and got used up quickly). I sympathized with her briefly- they were a bloody nuisance to put in. Then, as I watched, she lifted it to her mouth and tipped it back, draining it of the liquid inside in a single gulp before stuffing in back in her handbag and wiping her mouth.

Well, not if you did it like that.

She fished about in her bag as I stood, frozen to the spot, watching her, and came up with what looked like a perfume bottle. She gave herself a liberal spray before taking a tube of mints or sweets or gum, I couldn't tell, and popping about five in her mouth. She chewed quickly and, popping the tube and perfume bottle back in her bag, looked around at her surroundings for a moment until her eyes landed on me. We made eye contact for a split second, her big doe-like brown eyes narrowing a touch, and to my massive relief, my legs were suddenly able to move again, and I walked away, my stride quickening as I approached the forest green door of the bookshop. I tugged on the handle and pushed open the door in relief.

Some people really needed their heads checked. What was even in those eye drop bottles? I had a vague memory of someone telling me that it was saline solution. Still, who'd want to drink that? Maybe she was one of those people who drank and ate weird things like raw eggs because they were “healthy”.

I heard footsteps coming down the stairs, and Charlie's tall frame came into view, his arms wrapped around a pile of books, as usual. He hadn't seen me yet, and I felt my heart start to beat faster, gathering speed like it always did whenever I was nervous. For a few seconds I couldn't seem to get any words out. Then I stepped forward, and the small sound made him turn around.

“Hi,” I said, just as the bell rang behind me. His eyes jumped from me to the person behind me, and suddenly I heard a huge resounding thump thump thump as book after book tumbled from his arms, corners and spines and edges hitting the floor, some landing splayed and some closed.

“Charlie!” I ran forward, kneeling and starting to pick them up. He stayed where he was, completely unmoving, staring at the door. I turned around and looked as well, three books clutched to my chest.

The lady from the alleyway was standing in front of the door, her black handbag hooked around her shoulder.

As I looked at her up close, I realised that I hadn't fully appreciated just how stunning she was. She had the kind of cheekbones that looked as if they were fully capable of cutting something, and her lips were soft and full enough to put Angelina Jolie's to shame.

I wondered what she was doing here, and I'd just opened my mouth to ask if I could help her when I heard Charlie speak from behind me.

“Mum?” he said, his voice splintering under the weight of the word.

Author's note:

Oh. em. geeee! It's nearly 1am here so I really ought to go to sleep, but I apologise for the cliffhanger! Thank you all so much for reaaading! <3 Comment and vote if you want to find out what happens next ;) Love you allll! xx