Page 13
Story: (Not So) Mad About You
“I’m sorry, I really do need—” she began.
Luke waved her off. “My door is always open,” he said as he walked away.
“Now listen here,” she began. Then she caught herself. Luke hadn’t turned. And even she could see that losing it with the man she needed to convince that she didn’t have an anger problem probably wasn’t in her best interests.
“If you’d like to follow me, Alli, isn’t it?” said the bus. Josh. That was his name. Said Josh.
Alli gave him a look. The kind of look that usually sent assistants screaming for the hills.
Josh simply smiled at her. “I’ve been in prison,” he said. “A look like that can’t scare me.” He picked up her case. “I’m all rehabilitated now, of course. So nothing to worry about.” He eyed her. “Mostly.”
Jesus. Uncharacteristically unsure of what to do, Alli followed him as he mounted the stairs.
“It’ll do you no good trying to get the boss to sign you out of here,” Josh said calmly as they went up. “He’s right about the heads in beds. Half our funding comes from a government program and that means we need to keep places full. He’s more likely to try and persuade you to stay longer than to let you out early.”
“Not even for good behavior?” Alli said. The paint on the banisters was flaking and the old lino on the stairs was curling at the corners.
“Come now, the place isn’t as bad as you might think. There’sa lot of time for reflection and relaxation. You might even enjoy the quiet, some of our clients do.”
“I couldn’t give a damn what the other inmates think,” Alli said tartly, starting to regain her balance. There were piles of dust in the corners of the stairs and the whole place smelled of wet cabbage and powdered mashed potatoes.
“That’s not the sort of attitude that will graduate you from the program,” said Josh as he took four huge steps down a corridor and stopped in front of a door.
He looked like some kind of troll guarding a bridge and Alli snorted in frustration. “What will get me graduated from the program then?”
He threw open the door. “Completing it,” he said simply. “This is your room.”
She looked in to see a slim single bed, a desk, and a tiny window. “No.”
“No?”
“Just no,” she said. “Not up to standards. I’m not staying here.”
Josh shrugged. “There’s not much choice, I’m afraid. None of the other rooms are any better, if that helps.”
“Not in the slightest.”
He cleared his throat. “I’m going to have to ask you for your cell phone, please.”
She just stared at him.
He looked slightly shame-faced. “All part of the program. If you could just hand it over, it would be better for both of us.”
“What’s the alternative?”
He just looked at her.
Oh. Wrestling with a bus wasn’t on her list of things to do. But then, neither was staying in a decrepit insane asylum. She reached into her pocket without thinking and pulled out her phone. She didn’t hand it over.
Josh sighed, but didn’t look angry. “Listen, I get it, being here can be a shock. But I assume you’re here for a reason? Very few of our clients make their own reservations.”
Alli thought about Darren. Thought about her job. She waswalking a line here. She loved her job and she didn’t want to lose it, didn’t want to lose the life she had. Neither, though, did she want to be here. She weighed her options.
Josh rubbed his face. “Alright, how about this. Give me the phone and any other electronics you might have and then I’ll take you down to Mr. Bradshaw’s office and you can make your official complaints.”
“Official complaints.” She did sort of like the sound of that.
“You’re not the first, believe me.” He held out his hand.
Table of Contents
- Page 1
- Page 2
- Page 3
- Page 4
- Page 5
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- Page 10
- Page 11
- Page 12
- Page 13 (Reading here)
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