Trust (London Love #5)

Boundaries. Graham. Give him time. Space.

I had time. Lots of it.

I tried to sleep but couldn’t settle. Had a shower and changed my clothes. Repacked my cases.

I had nowhere to go.

Well, I could grab my bags and get the security guard to drive me down to The Clouds. Check into that wanky suite again. Lauren would approve. Anywhere was better than some place at the back end of Peckham, so she’d said. Loudly. It wasn’t an approved location, and security hadn’t scouted it out, and did I have any idea of the consequences if something happened to me? Insurance would never cover me. There are rules, Graham. RULES!

Bloody insurance. What did I care? If anything happened to me, management would be compensated for their lack of future income. My parents wouldn’t see a penny.

I couldn’t stay here. It was making me miserable. Too much time to think.

I put my tracksuit on and shoved my hair into submission under a beanie. Stashed some clothes in my rucksack and kicked the mattress to the side.

I had everything I needed. Phone in pocket, I tiptoed down the stairs.

The guard was asleep on the sofa. Yeah. That happened a lot. I mean, who in their right minds took a job where they were supposed to sit in my mostly empty house in case some nutcase tried to break in? I had nothing here. All our awards and stuff were kept by management. There was even a Blitz museum full of stage costumes, instruments we didn’t know how to play and tacky, overpriced merchandise.

My mum had a Blitz mug but not from the museum. I’d given it to her, back when it felt like the future was bright.

The guard didn’t even stir as I snuck out the front door, put the alarm back on. Pushed the code for the gate.

This wasn’t the first time. As long as I kept my head down and hood up, public transport safely got me to wherever I needed to go.

It felt a bit like freedom. A tiny glimmer of light.

I tapped my phone on the e-reader on the bus like a normal person. Because I was a normal person, and I’d once lived a normal life. One where I didn’t have to be so goddamn scared all the time.

I found an empty seat and sat, phone in my hand. And I breathed. In. Out.

You can do this.

Take control.

Stupid things

REUBEN

My room looked the same as always. Relaxed from a shower, I swallowed my meds down with a glass of water and put some product in my hair—a freebie left over from a beauty convention. The people in charge had been unusually generous, gifting us measly staff all kinds of things to take home and try.

Not that I could afford things like this. Hair serums and skin boosters and whatever. But freebies were nice.

Dad had gone to bed and the house was quiet. I could just about hear the kid upstairs crying, and their TV was still on. A slow beat came through the wall from the flat next door.

Home. It was always like this.

I’d never known this place to be completely silent. If it wasn’t the traffic outside, it was the people inside. I snagged Mr Snuggles and tugged the duvet around my shoulders.

Stared at the light from my phone. Nothing.

Nothing was good.

Why didn’t I believe that?

I could be friends with The Dieter. I could. I didn’t particularly want to have a boyfriend called Graham, who kept on hugging me and making me feel all kinds of fucked in the head.

I was fucked in the head.