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Good idea.
I glowed with self-congratulatory pride. Even from afar, I could make a difference.
I worked late. Bridget didn’t expect me to, but I felt obliged. I ached in all the wrong places. I missed the way my body suffered after a spell with Stefan. In my furtive imagination, I craved the discomforts and soreness he inflicted on me. As I pottered about the shop, I feasted on a mental dish of our sexual feats. A contrary collection of images, because it meant I desired rough sex, not romantic cuddles and soft kisses.
By the time I’d returned home, my mood had deflated again. The lights illuminated the sitting room. Talia was in, and it meant discussing my moving-out option. I refused to make it a certainty. It was a
possibility, nothing else.
She showed surprisingly little interest in my exploits abroad. Instead, she fidgeted and tugged at the loose strands of her hair. When I went into the kitchen to make my tea, she followed me.
“Callie. We must talk.” She pulled up a chair, sitting at the small kitchen table.
I examined the contents of one cupboard. I seriously needed to improve my own culinary skills. “Sure.” I picked up a tin of baked beans. Sadly, it looked like it was going to be beans on toast.
“I’m moving out,” she blurted.
I nearly dropped the tin on the worktop. “Moving out?” I swiveled around, gaping in disbelief at her announcement.
“It is silly. I am at George’s all the time. I pay rent here and sleep there. I know you cannot pay on your own. I’ve asked at the hospital. A few nurses would like to move out of the nurses’ accommodation. I am sure I can find you a new flatmate.” She gave me a sad-eyed expression and a little frown. “I am sorry. I hope not to cause you trouble. I will miss you.”
I plonked myself down on the other chair, trying to hide an aghast expression. If she was moving out, then could I, too? What would the landlord do? Our agreement required notice to be given, arrears to be paid. I couldn’t afford to pay double the amount in advance.
The realization dawned slowly, a creeping awareness of my own desires. My first thought on hearing Talia’s news wasn’t, ‘Oh yes, find me a flatmate to share’. It had been my own wish to move out and to have her plan meld with mine. Subconsciously, my mind had informed me that was my true desire—move in with Stefan and take the plunge.
“What?” Talia leaned forward. “You’re not angry with me?”
I shook my head briskly. “It’s just… I was thinking of moving out too.”
“To be with Herr Fuchs?” She remembered and covered her smile with a hand. “I’m sorry.” Her forehead wrinkled and she wiped the grin off her face. “You’ve only been dating for a little while. George and I have been together for a year. That is naughty, Callie. You rush.” She sounded like her Polish mother, who occasionally visited and rabbited away in a harsh tone while her daughter rolled her eyes in frustration.
“I wasn’t planning on rushing, but if you’re going, won’t it be more appealing to your friends to move in together?”
Talia pursed her lips. “Oh, yes. I know just the couple. They’d love to be together. And I mean love.” She winked at me. “All hush-hush, but everyone knows they are hot for each other.”
“I don’t care as long as they can afford the rent. Then we’d get our deposit back and not break the rental agreement.” I leaped up and returned to my abandoned tin of beans. “This is fate, isn’t it, Talia? Us moving out at the same time?”
She shrugged. “Lucky, I suppose. I worry about you. Would you go if I was staying?”
I fumbled with the tin opener. For some reason, I couldn’t answer. Perhaps I really didn’t know my own motivations. Sometimes, Stefan had me twisted around his little finger, manipulating me from afar. No, that wasn’t fair. He’d been open about his wish for my company. It was I who held back. I dumped the contents of the tin into the saucepan. We could wait, couldn’t we? A few weeks? Talia wouldn’t be gone that quickly.
I turned to make a suggestion and stopped in my tracks.
Talia busily typed away on her mobile. “I let George know. He will be so excited. Libby and Meg too. They will love living here.”
Her enthusiasm bubbled out and I kept my mouth shut.
By the time the toast had popped up and the beans had heated through, she’d had a reply from her would-be replacements. “Yes!”
“How soon?” I asked, staring at the steam rising off the plate.
“A week on Friday.”
My heart raced away and my appetite evaporated. “Next Friday?” Less than two weeks! “Can I let you know? I need to check with Stefan.”
She pouted. “Okay. But soon, yes?” She picked up her mobile and left the kitchen.
I sat at the table, toying with my food. I would wait until Stefan returned from Germany. Before I made my final decision, I had to see him in the flesh first, know that my niggling doubts were unnecessary. As much as Talia believed that things were cast in stone, I knew they weren’t. There were always last-minute changes in plans, altering the timescales or sequence of events. I should know. I was the expert in them all.
