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Kasey
For me right now, life sucks big time! At 25 years old you’d think that the world would be my oyster. Cliché, I know. It couldn’t be further from the truth, though. I’m currently hiding out in a rundown B&B in some shit town I don’t even want to be in. This room is about as appealing as a case of gastroenteritis and most likely what I’ll end up with after staying here. I don’t even have the small luxury of my own bathroom, oh no, instead I have to share one pokey little bathroom with the rest of the unsavoury occupants. It’s like a walking advertisement for an STD!
The room contains a single bed that looks ready to collapse as soon as you touch it, with a throw that’s completely threadbare and faded. The wallpaper is a throwback from the 60s, with a vulgar green floral pattern that’s peeling from damp in the corners of the room. There’s also a questionable stain splattered above the rickety metal headboard. Ewwww!
Dumping my bag on the floor, I head to the one window in the room. Dark brown velvet curtains block any light from outside, and as I attempt to draw one back, the distinct pinging sound of a hook breaking echoes around the room. Outside, the rain continues pelting the window as a cold draft seeps through, sending a shiver through me. Yeah, inside’s just as dreary as outside. Like I said, life sucks, but at least I’m alive.
Snatching my bag up, I pull out the map I’ve been using and tentatively lower myself to the bed. I hold my breath, the old frame creaks and groans as I finally rest all my weight on it, but it holds. Spreading the map on the bed, I begin to plot my next move. This would be so much easier with my phone, but it’s one of the many things I had to leave behind.
To be honest, I’m safer without it right now,heprobably put some sort of tracking device or app on it anyway. With limited cash, a phone is the least of my worries.
I shake my head to clear the images racing through my mind. My bruises throb in recognition of memories I refuse to get sucked into. I need to focus on finding somewhere I can start afresh and forget the last four years of my life. I also need to see about getting a new identity.
Luckily, before I left, I was able to get an address from Tyler for someone who might be able to help me. For the right price, of course.
The question is, what’s it going to cost me, and will I be willing to pay no matter what?
I spend an hour trying to decide where to go next, then finally narrow it down to a couple of places. Unable to make a definite decision, I decide on a quick shower. I need to wash away the grime and sweat from travelling for the last 24 hours. Grabbing a clean set of clothes and the limited toiletries I was able to pack, I head to the bathroom. Thank the lord there’s a lock.
I hurry through my shower and get dressed just as my stomach growls in protest at not being fed. Seeing the time is just approaching 7pm, I decide to venture out for some food.
The B&B sits in a small side road just a ten-minute walk from Peterborough train station, and I head back that way remembering that there was a small café across the road. It’s almost dark outside, and the street is quiet. Pulling my hood up over my head I walk quickly. The rain has stopped, thankfully, and a damp, earthy smell lingers in the air.
Once I get out on to the main road, I turn right towards the café that sits just up ahead on the corner. I cross over and make my way through the throng of people that just got off the train. Most are men in business suits, carrying briefcases. A few are younger, dressed ready for a night on the town. Young and carefree. That used to be me, beforehim! Or more accurately when I met him.
Twenty-one, dressed to the nines, happy and confident. Me and the girls, Laura and Sam, had gone out to celebrate Laura’s new job.
After graduating with a degree in marketing and advertisement, Laura had landed a job at a huge London based marketing firm, and in celebration we’d gone to one of the many clubs in London. We’d had a blast, drinks a plenty and laughed so hard my sides had hurt.
Towards the end of the night I’d been on the dance floor, completely lost in the music. Body swaying, arms in the air, next thing I knew there were hands on my hips and heat at my back. Before I got the chance to spin and face my ‘handsy’ dance partner, warm minty breath brushed my neck, followed by a deep, husky voice whispering in my ear.
‘Hey, beautiful’. Utterly mesmerised by his beautifully rich voice, and with a buzz from all the cocktails I’d drunk, we danced till the end of the song. When I finally turned around, I was met by the deepest, darkest brown eyes I’d ever seen. The rest, as they say, is history.
Now, had I not been young and naïve, or in hindsight, stupid, and completely enamoured with the hot, well mannered, flatterer, I may have seen beneath the beautiful veneer to the manipulative, arrogant arsehole of a man he was. Like I said, hindsight!
A bell above the door rings as I enter the café, and the smell of fried food and oil assaults my nose. Inside there is a short, bald Turkish man behind the counter frying chips. The only other customer is an elderly gentleman, reading a newspaper and nursing a cup of tea. Nodding in greeting to the man behind the counter, I head to a table and take a seat. Picking up the laminated double-sided menu, I scan it for something to fill the hollowness in my stomach. If only it was that simple.
This hollowness is a deep, dark pit of despair and fear, nothing to do with food.
When the waitress comes to take my order, I pick the first thing on the menu. It’s not going to matter what it is because I won’t taste any of it. I order a tea to wash it down.
While I wait for my food, I watch the world outside. Purposely picking a table near the back and facing the door gives me the advantage of watching who comes and goes.
My dad was a Marine, and I always remember that no matter where we were, he would take up the best vantage point. I can hear him now,“You gotta cover all entrances and exits Kasey. It means the difference between breathing another day”. God! I loved my dad.
The day he died was the day my life turned to shit. I was the epitome of a ‘Daddy’s girl’. In my eyes that man was God, and I believed that he could’ve walked on water. It’s funny how one event can cause such devastation; a domino effect that would change the course of my life. Ultimately leading to me sitting in a shitty little café on the fucking run, fromhim!
If my dad were still alive, would I be here now? Who the fuck knows! I guess that depends on whether you believe in fate, destiny, kismet, all that shit. Would things be as bad? I’d like to think not. I’d like to think that my dad would kick his scrawny little arse! Okay, so it’s hardly scrawny, but my dad would still kick his arse.
Christ knows why I’m sitting here thinking about all this anyway, it’s not like just thinking about it will magically make it happen. Dad isn’t here, so suck it up Kasey!
Lost in the memories of my dad, the swooshing of the double doors leading from the kitchen have me almost jumping out of my seat. The young girl who took my order earlier approaches with my food and tea, placing them on the table, she gives me a forced smile before walking back the way she came.
I look down at my plate, stomach roiling at the idea of food, but I know I have to eat. Apparently, I ordered omelette and chips. The omelette looks a little grey, and the chips, obviously frozen, could have done with five minutes more in the fat fryer. Mind you, with the amount of oil covering them, I’m surprised they’re not still cooking on the plate. Reluctantly, I load my fork and eat.
Pushing my plate away, I throw my napkin on top and pick up my tea. It looks like piss in a cup, but it’s wet and will have to do.
