Chapter 3
I wake up and blink several times before I actually open my eyes. I shut them again instantly as a ray of light impedes my line of vision, making my eyes sting momentarily. I'm sure something's missing from the room. Kimberley. I abruptly open my eyes again and see the sofa empty. I panic for a few seconds until I hear a low voice coming from the bathroom. "Hey Nicola." She pauses briefly before continuing to speak. "Yeah. I just lost my bearings last night and ended up missing my train, that's all. I'll be coming home at some point today, i'm just not sure when." Again she pauses and I conclude that she must be on the phone. "Please. Just tonight." Her accent is even stronger in the hushed tone she's speaking in. I wasn't sure if I liked it at first but, it's really grown on me. The way she says her own name makes me laugh because it's so different to how I say it. "Thanks Nic, you're honestly the greatest friend I could ask for." She pauses for a matter of seconds before she speaks once again. "I'll come round tomorrow. Around eleven, if that's okay for you?" I hear a rather loud bang and Kimberley mutter an array of expletives before she speaks once again. "See you tomorrow Nic, bye." It's silent once Kimberley stops speaking and I decide to treasure the moment and close my eyes once more.
I resist the urge to open my eyes as I hear the bathroom door creak open and Kimberley tip-toe back to the sofa. I can hear Kimberley sighing frequently on the sofa and I find myself wondering what's going on in her mind. She seems like a very closed person, someone who likes to deal with their issues alone, despite this, she does a terrible job at hiding that she has issues. You can see the worry etched on her face and the tiredness in her eyes almost 24/7. It's heart-breaking really that someone who's only twenty two years old seems to carry such heavy burdens on her shoulders. Of course I could be wrong, totally wrong. She might be fine, totally happy but, if she is, she has a funny way of showing it. "You awake?" I mutter, although I know she is. "Yeah." "Where in London do you live?" I ask her. "Croydon." She mutters quickly and quietly. "Right." I reply. I honestly don't understand Kimberley, in the letter she wrote me she was so open about her life and feelings yet the second I mention anything even remotely personal to her face she shuts off.
Kimberley and I hardly speak for the rest of the morning. We simply co-exist in my hotel room, shuffling past each other. We occasionally mutter the odd sentence to each other. In all honesty I want to speak to her but, I don't know what to say. I'm scared that I could say the wrong thing and push her away and for a reason I can't quite pin-point i'm terrified she might leave. "You ready?" I ask as I sling my bag over my shoulder. "Yeah." She mutters as she grabs her minimal collection of personal items. She's once again dressed in one of my tracksuits due to a lack of clothing.
I've been driving for nearly an hour in silence and decide I can't do it any longer. "What do you do?" I ask her. I am genuinely interested although I doubt she'll believe it. "I teach." She mutters. "What do you teach?" "Musical theatre workshops at the community centre." She replies as she glances at me. "Thank you, again." She mutters. "You can stop saying thank you." I say as I flash her a smile. Although I have a feeling she only did it to change the topic of conversation. "So you said you live in Croydon, who do you live with?" I see her glance at me before turning her head and staring out of the window. "Erm." She clears her throat and runs her fingers over her temples. "I live on my own." She states, rather unconfidently. I definitely don't believe her but, i've quickly realised that I can't push her, that's when she starts to close up. I don't know what else to say to her and she definitely makes it difficult to hold a conversation with her closed answers. So again we continue the journey in silence.
Eventually we pull up outside the house Kimberley directed me to. "I need to thank you for everything." Kimberley mutters uncomfortably. "You already have, numerous times." I remind her. "I mean properly." "Right." I reply, although I have no idea where this conversation is going. "Do you want to come over for dinner tonight?" She says so quietly I almost don't hear her. "Yeah, i'd like that." I say as I flash her a dimpled smile. "Great. Shall we say 7?" "Sure, so i'll see you later." "See you later Cheryl." She counters as she climbs out of the car.
Kimberley's POV
I lock the front door and drop down onto the sofa. Why did I invite her here for dinner? She's going to come and ask more questions that I don't really want to answer. I groan rather loudly as I place a cushion behind my head. Why do I do this? After everything, I should've learnt not to let people in. Especially someone like Cheryl. I mean she's a lovely person but she's a celebrity and i'm a nobody. A messed up nobody.
I blink my eyes wearily as i'm woken from the slumber I wasn't aware I had fallen in to. I instantly realise the continuous vibration of my phone has woken me up. I accept the incoming call without checking the caller ID. Big mistake. "Hello?" "You're alive then?" Comes the bitter response from my brother. "Adam? Why the hell are you ringing me?" I snap back. "Maybe I just care Kimberley! Maybe I want to know what's going on, where you are and more importantly why you won't tell me anything." He shouts. "It's better this way." I say calmly. "How can it possibly be better this way Kimberley? You're my sister and I have no idea where you are or why you left." He says with a sigh. "It's been over two years Adam, why don't you just leave me to get on with my life and get on with your own?" He laughs dryly. "Exactly Kimberley, we haven't seen you for two years! Mum's still in pieces you know? What about Amy? She was 13 when you left Kimberley and she dotes on you! Despite everything she *Ducking* dotes on you! Do you ever think about them?!" "Bye Adam." I say as I swallow away the lump in my throat. "Don't you dare put this phone down Kimberley!" "Goodbye Adam." I end the call and launch my phone at the sofa opposite me. I always check the caller ID, how could I be so stupid?
Cheryl's POV
As I approach Kimberley's door I can feel my nervous energy building. I suddenly feel very under-dressed in my skinny jeans and cream blouse with full length sleeves. I don't know what i'm panicking about. It's just dinner. I knock on the door rather shakily and have to work hard to control my breathing as she opens the door. "Hey." "Hey Kimberley." I smile. "Come in." She says. I feel like i'm in some sort of parallel world. Suddenly Kimberley's the out-going one and i'm closing up. "Sit down." Kimberley says as she gestures to the sofa. "I'll get you a drink. Is red okay?" I quickly perch on the sofa. "Yeah, reds fine." I mutter. I watch as she leaves the living room and notice a cabinet by the door. The top is cluttered with photo frames so I wander over and have a look.
Kimberley's POV
I quickly pour two glasses of wine and screw the lid back on to the bottle. I head back into the living room, not that I get very far before I see Cheryl eyeing up the photos on the cabinet by the door. I watch her a few minutes as she picks up each photo and studies it before placing it back in position. I intake a sharp breath as she picks up the final picture. I wait and wait and wait but she doesn't put it back, she simply stares at it, her eyes transfixed on the left hand side of the photo. I don't know what to do for the best. Do I hide in the kitchen until she puts the photo down or walk in and hope she replaces it for fear of me seeing her with it? I can't deal with her questioning, I don't want to open up to her. At least, not yet. I take a deep breath and steady my shaky hands as I head for the living room.
Cheryl's POV
I continue to stare at the photo in my hands. It's really cute. Kimberley's holding a little girl in her arms and they're both giggling away. I hear Kimberley clear her throat as she enters the room and places the glasses of wine she's carrying down on the coffee table. "Who's this?" I ask her, pointing to the little girl in the photo. There's a momentary pause in which I hear Kimberley's breath hitch in her throat. "Lola." She stammers. "Who's Lola?" I question. Silence fills the air for a few seconds before Kimberley breaks it with a rather large sigh. "My daughter."
