The Winter Project

8. Cleo

Cleo arrived home at almost five in the morning, and so she was careful not to make a sound as she crept into the house. She did not want to startle or wake Isabel, and she was lucky that the effects of the alcohol and cocaine were starting to wear off and allow her to move carefully as she closed the front door and crept up the stairs that led to their small first floor apartment. The house was not well taken care of by the landlord, with faded paint and dirty carpets, but the two of them loved their little flat because it was full of character and felt like a home that had been truly lived-in throughout the years. They would often make up stories about the people who used to live there; tragic love stories between detailed characters or comedy sketches of caricatures from their vivid imaginations. 

She walked into her own bedroom and fell down onto her bed, exhausted from a night of dancing and talking to total strangers. Cleo would often tell friends that she was only going out for a couple of drinks, and most of those nights turned into nights where she drank more than she thought she was capable of and ended up walking home in the early morning sunlight. This night had been relatively tame, for it was still dark outside and she had only drunk maybe ten gin & tonic's and only snorted three lines of coke. She leaned across the bed and flicked the switch on her bedside light, lighting up the room and revealing Isabel curled up in the bed, eyes wide open and stained with mascara.

'Jesus Christ!' Cleo shouted loudly. It felt like her heart rate had increased tenfold, and it took her more than a few seconds to calm down. 'What the hell are you doing sat in my bed silently in the pitch black, you lunatic!"

Isabel looked over at Cleo, her lip quivering and her eyes now streaming with tears. Cleo felt instant guilt and her immense fear turned into strong empathy that she could only feel for her closest friends. Other people's problems did not concern her, but she wouldn't even wish a minor inconvenience on the ones she loved. She was also concerned; Isabel rarely showed any emotion and to sit in the dark crying at five in the morning was completely out of her character. Even being awake at this hour was out of character for Isabel, who was the more sensible one of the two and would usually be asleep by 11pm. Cleo knew Isabel's mannerisms well, and she knew full well that Isabel couldn't talk properly when she was crying, so she was well prepared on what to do now. She would make a cup of tea, stroke Isabel's hair, and tell her stories from throughout her day until Isabel had stopped crying and was ready to talk. It was time to get to work being the perfectly trained friend.

'Oh, I almost forgot,' Cleo said. She had been so wrapped up in boring stories from her day at work and her night out that she had forgotten to mention the best part of her daily observations. 'So I get on the bus to go into town, you know before we went to the bar? And just before I'm getting off this guy sits in front of me. He's checking his phone so I figured I'd lean over and have a little peek at it. All I can see is hundreds of messages from what I'm assuming is his girlfriend or ex-girlfriend. He takes one look at the screen, and then he just stares at his own reflection in the bus window until I get off. He's just angrily staring at himself. Clearly drunk, probably a maniac? When I got off the bus, I walked past the bus window and he was still doing it. Just angry-staring at himself, probably wondering what he's going to say to get himself out of the mess he's in once he gets home.'

Isabel let out a small chuckle, and wiped the last tear from her cheek. Cleo knew that she would be ready to talk now.

'So what's got you down?'

'I...I was trying, I went to...'

Her voice was starting to break again but she was able to keep it under control. She steadied her breathing so that she would be able to continue talking.

'What is it?' Cleo was now deeply concerned about all kinds of horrifying situations that would bring harm to Isabel. She had picked up this habit from Isabel; imagining the worst in a situation before learning all of the facts.