Page 9 of No Safe Place
Wednesday | Afternoon
Lily
Lily went to the kitchen to make Scott’s toast, and bumped into Cal.
He was constructing an elaborate sandwich, his back to her. Lily stared at the back of his head. He’d buzzed his hair short last week. Lily quite liked it. The buzzcut owned his slight baldness, where the brushed-forwards flyaway mop apologised for it.
He’d been receding since he was twenty-four, his hairline deteriorating at roughly the same rate as their relationship.
‘All right?’ Cal asked, without turning round.
He’d lost more weight.
Scott was right. It was going to be hard letting Cal go.
‘Not bad. Still feel sick-y.’ She leaned against the counter, still talking to Callum’s back. ‘Are you going to get some writing done today?’
He ignored her. ‘Loverboy here, is he?’
‘Yes,’ she answered, demurely, opening the cupboard above the toaster. Her Hovis was half-undone and upside down, confirming the suspicion that Callum was using her bread. The only thing that irritated her more was when he borrowed her leftie scissors, and took them to his room.
She took two slices from the packet and dropped them into the toaster.
‘I don’t know why he has to stay here so often.’ Callum turned to face her, dark circles under his eyes. He was wearing the same clothes as yesterday, and they hung loose on him.
Before she could answer, a sharp stabbing pain in her abdomen made her gasp, a hand going to her side. Callum frowned but didn’t say anything. After a few seconds, the pain ebbed away, and Lily straightened up.
‘He was on a night shift.’ She shut the cupboard door with more force than she meant to, and Cal smirked. ‘And ours is closer to the hospital.’
Cal lifted the uncut sandwich in one hand and took a bite.
‘If it bothers you, I can always move out.’ She let the challenge hang in the air.
‘Scott’s welcome here any time,’ he said, sweetly, through a mouthful of ham.
They both jumped at the knock on the front door.
‘Shit.’ A large drop of mayonnaise had escaped the sandwich and was dripping down his chest, a white parody of a Halloween stab wound, right above his heart.
The loud knocks on the door continued, but this time it was the pop of the toaster that made Lily jump. Her stomach gave another painful clench.
‘Oh, for God’s sake,’ she muttered, mentally shaking herself and heading for the hall. ‘ Yes , I’m coming.’
She rattled the handle, but it was locked.
They had an old-fashioned door you needed the keys to open. Lily riffled through the junk on the dresser, hunting for them. Broken scissors, chocolate wrappers. A thick wad of pizza and burger leaflets made a break for it, cascading to the floor.
Her keys fell with them, and she snatched them up. If there was ever a fire they’d burn to death.
She was so dazed that it took a second to register that the woman at the door was in police uniform. Her patent leather shoes were shining in the August sunlight.
‘Hi there. Last night there was an attack in the area, and we’re just knocking to see if you may have seen or heard anything. Could I come in?’
Lily shot a glance at the closed dining room door. ‘Not really. Sorry.’
A raised eyebrow. Lily checked over her shoulder. ‘It’s my,’ she hesitated. ‘Housemate. He’s not well.’
Lily tried to nudge some of the leaflets under the cabinet with her foot.
The policewoman – police officer Lily should call her – checked her notebook. The heat outside was stifling, and Lily thought she must be sweating in her bulky uniform.
Lily wiped her forehead with the back of her hand.
‘What’s going on?’ Cal emerged from the dining room, a cigarette between his lips. He stood behind Lily, a fraction too close.
Even a year after the break-up, they hadn’t quite lost that overfamiliarity. Sometimes they’d catch themselves and Cal’s hand would be on her waist, or she’d have touched the nape of his neck, like she used to.
‘We’re knocking to ask if you saw or heard anything suspicious last night. There was an attack in the area, on Ancona Road.’
Lily blinked. ‘No – nothing.’
‘Me neither.’ Callum stared blankly ahead, not quite meeting the woman’s eye.
They stood in silence for a second, and Lily was about to suggest that the officer come back later, when she smiled and took a step backwards.
‘And you haven’t seen anyone suspicious in the area? Nothing that’s made you feel uncomfortable or seemed out of place?’
Lily felt Callum shuffle behind her. Not the time to tell this woman that he hadn’t left the house in two years.
‘No,’ Lily said. ‘Not that I can think of. Was the person – were they okay?’
The officer smiled a benign smile, tucking her notebook into her vest. ‘It’s good of you to ask – not everyone does. I can’t give out any details, though.’
Lily’s stomach churned, and made embarrassing noises. If the officer heard, she didn’t react. Lily put a hand on the doorframe to steady herself.
The officer leaned back and scanned the walls. ‘Does that camera work?’
‘It’s a dummy,’ Callum answered.
The woman nodded, hooked her thumbs into her vest and took a step back. ‘Okay, well, thanks anyway. If you think of anything that might be relevant, you can dial 101, or pop into the station.’
‘Okay,’ Lily said, already shutting the door. ‘Thank you.’
The hinges creaked, and the hallway fell into its usual gloom.
‘I’m going to make a brew,’ Callum said in monotone, not meeting Lily’s eye. His hands shook as he lit his cigarette. ‘Want one?’
‘No, thanks,’ she said.
Lily felt the weight of all the things she should say.
She should go to Callum, comfort him. Congratulate him.
A stranger at the door – and he’d come and spoken to her.
Lily was so proud of him, she wanted to pull him into a hug. She could imagine the pressure on her chest as he pressed against her, his heart thudding away behind his ribs.
But Callum walked to the kitchen, and Lily stayed frozen, leaning against the front door and holding her aching stomach.