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“Any chance I could just get some French fries?” I ask sheepishly. “Please could you apologise to the cook, I don’t get out much and wasn’t sure what the meal was.”
“Sure, no bother,” she says, taking the plate off the table and disappearing back into the cafe.
“What sort of cafe sells lentil and noodle soup?” I muse.
“They haven’t had chance to have the signs changed, it was a cafe but now it’s a walk-in restaurant,” an older gentlemen says as he leans back in his chair. I watch as he tilts it further back so it’s now on two legs instead of four.
“That soup’s going to be expensive, isn’t it?” I blurt, much to the guy’s amusement.
“Probably, my dear,” he says with a smile.
The thought of that has me scrambling to grab the menu and search for the price of the food. My mouth drops open seeing £14.99 for the soup and a portion of fries are £9.95. These better the nicest fries I have ever had because at that price I want them triple cooked.
The server brings me the plate, with seriously crispy fries, making my mouth water as I take in the sight of them. Okay, yeah, they’re expensive but I really don’t care as my stomach growls again at the scent. I grab a huge handful of them, stuffing as many as I can into my mouth like an animal. Clearly, it disgusts some people if the tuts I get from the surrounding tables are anything to go by.
I pay them no mind as I eat like a wild animal, my thoughts turning to my friend. Hopefully he can do the weird tracking thing he does and find me wherever I end up. Thunder rumbles overhead pulling me out of my inner musings, and I look up in time for a drop of rain to land on my cheek.
As I throw the final fry in my mouth, the heavens open. Everybody jumps up from their seats, running in every direction to try and get out of the heavy rain. I smile, knowing I’m not the cause of this storm and it’s just an act of mother nature herself. I leisurely stand up, making my way inside to find the girl so I can pay.
I find her at the far side talking hurriedly into her phone, my unease spikes as she looks around. When her eyes land on me she hangs up and plasters a smile on her face.
“Is everything okay?” she asks with an overly fake-happy tone.
“Can I pay, please?” I say back, my tone a bit harsher than I would like.
“Sure, can do,” she smiles widely. Okay, this isn’t right, she’s got way too much pep in her step now.
I tap the card on the machine, not bothering to wait for the weird paper thing to roll out of the top of it. Stuff the card back in my pocket I head to the front doors, the rain is bouncing down now with enough force to clear the street. Pulling my hood up onto my head, I tuck my hands into my pocket and set out into the monsoon.
Thunder and lightning fill the sky and my feet squelch on the wet pavement as I push forward. I quickly pull my phone out of my pocket and check the time, seeing the numbers on the screen pushes me faster. It may be storming now but it will soon be night and I need to find somewhere warm and dry.
I lift my head a fraction, and the ice-cold rain beats against my already cold cheeks like tiny little icicles. It’s not long before I notice a sign on the front of a building further up saying hotel.
Thank you, fate.
I put my head down to try and keep the rain off it, pushing my hands deeper into my pockets to try and keep them warm. But that’s beside the point now, my clothes are soaked, even my socks are soaked because of the weather.
I make it to the building just as the storm picks up in volume, when a weird feeling washes over me as I grab hold of the door handle. I turn and look over my right shoulder, my eyes squinting as I try to see through the rain. But there’s nothing there. I do the same to my left, and I’m met with the same thing… a big fat nothing.
Brushing the feeling off, I pull the door open. The weight of it is surprising and I have to use more muscles than I would have thought. I step inside, the heavy weighted door swinging quickly closed behind me and cutting off the elements from the outside world. I find a man sitting behind the desk at the end of the room and take in the interior, glad that it looks like something I would feel comfortable in. If it was super grand I would have turned around and walked straight back out.
“Hey,” I say as I step up to the counter. “I’d like to book a room for a few nights please.”
“How many is a few?” the man replies with a gruff tone.
“Erm,” I say sheepishly. “How much is it a night?”
“Seventy pound a night,” he growls back, not taking his eyes off the phone in his hand.
“Three then please.”
He throws a clipboard onto the top of the counter, with a pen tied to it with string. I pick it up and, for some reason, my nerves feel shot doing this, but it’s all a part of having human experiences, isn’t it? Yeah, we’ll go with that. I get to work filling it in, and then place it back on the counter. He grabs without looking up and I have to admit it’s impressive. He pulls a key out of somewhere with the numbers 705 on it, and puts the machine on top.
I grab hold of the key and tap my card, waiting for the bleep. When it makes the sound, I watch as he mechanically puts it back wherever he pulled it from. I turn on my heels, muttering thank you as I make my way to the only corridor in the building. There’s a massive metal sign fastened to the wall telling me my room is on the fifth floor. Pressing the button for it, I wait as the numbers slowly roll down the illuminated display above the doors.
* * *
I step into the room, my whole body shivering, and close the door, locking it behind me. In the next breath, I’m stripping out of the jacket and dropping it onto the floor. Night time is rolling in now, and my entire body shakes as I stare at the small double bed in the middle of the room. Exhaustion sweeps over me, leaving me feeling like I’m boneless.
