Lost Without You

~9~

When I got back home, rushing along the empty back lanes, nearly out of breath, I found the house empty. Mum was still out and I was happy about it, I needed a few moments to collect myself.

I raised my eyes to the large mirror, hanging on the wall above the narrow table by the front door, as I put my keys on its smooth, marble surface. Shaking my head at my reflection, I remembered, with a shiver, the strange feeling I couldn't shake off while I was out. As if... I was being watched. Followed by someone I could not see... You are going mad.

Taking a calming breath and pushing the strange feeling away, I removed my shoes and took the fox's food into the kitchen, stirring Lily's curiosity when I approached the cabinet containing her dog food.

Seeing that the fox wasn't in the garden at the moment, I donned my now dry slippers by the back door, and walked outside to recover its plate; mum's tiny dog in tow. Kicking the slippers off, wet again, as soon as I re-entered, I went to rinse the plate into the adjacent utility room, where Mum kept the washing machine and the dryer. I left it there, next to Lily's bowls, ready for the following morning.

My washed clothes were still inside the dryer but already dry, so I decided to carry them into my room; Lily, surprisingly, followed me up the stairs. Feeling too tired to fold the washing up and put it away, I dumped it all in my reading armchair, placed by the window overlooking the garden.

Finally I removed my coat and the skirt, and spread them to dry over the back of the armchair. They were both damp from my stroll in the melting snow. The skirt was so long that its hem, sweeping the ground as I walked, was completely drenched. Even the leggings I was wearing underneath got wet from touching it. Lia is right, floor-length skirts are not among the most practical clothes for winter in London, I mused. I'll need more of them, so I have at least one clean and ready to wear at all times.

I changed into a clean and dry pair of grey leggings which I grabbed from one of my drawers, then sat on my bed. Yawning, I watched Lily jump up next to me, and settle down in the bottom corner of the bed. She usually did this with Mum, but never with me. I raised my eyebrows at the fluffy creature in a silent enquiry, but she ignored me, sighing contentedly and closing her eyes. And I was feeling too tired to argue with a dog.

It's only lunchtime, how can you be so exhausted? You've become too lazy over the year spent in the castle... I scolded myself.

Lazy or not, there was nothing urgent for me to do at the moment, so I could take a nap. I needed my book though, I wanted to hold it, to keep it close to me.

I went back to the window and took it out of the handbag, which I had buried under my clean clothes. On a second thought I grabbed my phone, too. You must let Lia know that you booked the table, I thought, crawling under my quilt, careful not to disturb the sleeping dog. But I fell asleep as soon as my head touched the pillow, before I could compose the text, curled around the book, my quilt covering me up to my chin.

I woke up to the sound of voices coming from downstairs. The room was dark, illuminated only by a wedge of weak light making its way in from the corridor, through the door standing ajar. The dog was gone, I noticed, surely it had abandoned me as soon as Mum had arrived...

"Come on in!" Mum invited someone. "You might need to wake her up, she has slept the whole afternoon. I'm off, just tell Samara that I'm out with Julian, please. I left her a note on the kitchen table. Thank you and have fun, girls."

"Thanks, and have a nice evening too, Mrs. Marlowe." Lia's voice was followed by a low thud and a soft rattle of the panes of stained glass when she closed the front door.

I sat up slowly, feeling stunned from the long sleep, listening to my friend unzipping her jacket and removing her shoes, then running up the stairs.