16. CHAPTER 16
CHAPTER 16
Tilda
One good thing amongst millions about living in the lodges is access to a bath. No more cramming into those tiny shower stalls, hacked off because the boys have nicked your shower gel again.
It’s not often I’m left alone here but with Haz and Elly off out for some bro time and Nic either up in her cave or out as well, I take the opportunity tonight to run myself a bath.
After Elly heard about my affinity for such a thing, she went out and immediately bought me a selection of bath bubbles, salts and candles. Haz glared the whole time Elly made a show of her gift, no doubt wishing she’d thought of something like that. I just can’t imagine it. She’s more likely to gift me gig tickets, merch or a new sex toy. I’m struggling to get it through their thick skulls that neither are better, that they complement each other perfectly.
I sit on the edge of the tub, idly running my hand under the tap. I might have overdone it with the bubbles, the sweet scent of strawberries and cream clinging to my nostrils.
‘You’re more strawberry than lemon,’ Elly told me. I’m not sure about that but it’s sweet she thinks so.
I shut the water off, that crisp sound of popping soap suds filling my ears as I toe my way in. My breath stills at the heat, my body burning as a tidal wave of fire rushes over it. It ebbs after a while and I’m able to lie all the way back, the sound of bubbles intensifying.
I close my eyes, losing myself in the warmth. The cuts on my thighs burn sweetly and I feel a semblance of peace that’s been missing since I left Portia House.
I’m drifting off when a door shuts somewhere above me. The landing outside the bathroom creaks and I freeze upon remembering I didn’t lock it. But Nic’s footsteps don’t stop, continuing on down the stairs. When I hear the bang of the front door, I relax. I’m definitely alone now.
That’s decidedly not a good thing about living here, that feeling of apprehension whenever Nic’s in the vicinity. She doesn’t even need to say anything. I can feel the charge in the air, her disapproval leaking through every pore.
It’s hard to feel that I’m not to blame, despite Elly’s and Haz’s reassurances, despite the fact that I know I’ve not done anything to piss her off. I hadn’t even known of her existence a month ago.
But blaming myself is my default, honed all the way back in childhood. It’s a tough habit to crack, those subconscious voices louder than my own.
I ruined Mum’s life after all, and she’s not let me forget the fact since.
Through the bubbles crackling in my ears, I hear my phone vibrating on the rim of the bath.
I check the name on the screen.
Speak of the devil.
I look at the word Mum as I deliberate answering, not quite ready to disrupt the peace. But if I don’t answer, she’ll only retaliate by ignoring my existence for another month. Plus, there’s a sliver of concern since she told me she got back with Callum, her abusive asshat of a boyfriend.
As much as I hate the fact, I told her to ring me in the case of an emergency and I hope that she’ll take me up on it.
Well, I hope it never comes to that, but on the off chance it does—because it sure has before.
When the phone’s at the point it’s about to fall in the bath, I swipe it up.
‘Hey.’
‘Tilds—’ She coughs, lungs hacking loudly. Those damn cigarettes. ‘Christmas,’ she says eventually. ‘You coming home or what?’
No pleasantries. No asking how I am. I only get those when she’s either off her tits or wants something from me.
‘Dunno.’ I sink lower into the water, the bubbles a protective white wall around my head. ‘Bit early to think about, isn’t it? Why?’
‘Callum wants to know, that’s all.’
I close my eyes, hitting my head against the bath. ‘Why does he want to know?’
‘Might want to come round, that’s all.’
She’s keeping her voice light, mollifying, because she knows exactly how I feel about Callum being there for Christmas, especially after last time. Never again do I want to spend Christmas on a hospital ward with the police hovering around for a statement.
Callum spent a stint inside for it and after that disappeared.
For good, I thought.
Until this summer when I came across a black and white photo of them on Instagram, both with sunny smiles and clearly naked from the neck down.
Had our ups and downs but true love never breaks x, the caption read.
‘I don’t want to see him.’
‘Not all about what you want, is it?’ She barks out an ugly laugh. ‘Though guess with you, it always is. Just wanted a nice family Christmas, that’s all, but you can’t even give me that.’
‘Mum, he broke your arm last Christmas!’
‘Yeah, and he’s sorry. I tried to tell you this. Did some course inside. Anger management and that.’
I roll my eyes. Absolute bullshit. Men like Callum don’t change, they pretend . Pretend until they’ve got you well and good and trapped, then they unleash their true colours. We’ve been here so many fucking times. How can she be so stupid?
‘If he’s there, I won’t be. You promised.’
‘Suit your fucking self then. Where you gonna go, huh? Can’t stay there, can you.’
‘Of course I can. Not everyone goes home.’
‘Because they don’t have one. You do.’
I shake my head at that untruth. The only home I knew was between the ages of eight and ten and that was in the form of a person. And that person wasn’t my mum.
I know she mourns that home too. She tells me often enough. It was me who wrecked it, after all.
‘If he’s there, I won’t be,’ I repeat.
‘Maybe I’ll see you in the new year then.’
The line goes dead. I toss my phone onto the floor, uncaring when it misses the bath mat and clacks on the tiles.
I slip beneath the surface of the water, needing to drown this awful, twisty, crawly feeling that arises each and every time I speak to that woman. My fingers drift to my thigh, nails picking at the still-healing wounds, the agitation leaching away like water down a plug hole.
I come up for air briefly before sinking back under. The world’s calmer under here. Muffled and soft. It’s nice… I might stay here a while.
Haz
As soon as I’m inside, I rip off my tank and toss it onto the sofa, leaving me in only my sports bra. ‘Fuck, I reek.’
‘And I smell like daisies,’ Elly says.
‘Yeah, because you did fuck all as usual. Never gonna get these beauties with that work ethic.’ I flex my arm that’s still shiny from sweat from the jog home from the gym. ‘Don’t know why you bother coming at all to be honest.’
‘Because you’d be lonely without me.’
I grunt because she’s not wrong. She’s as integral to my gym sessions as my water bottle.
‘Right, well I’m off for a shower.’ I pluck my tank from the sofa, knowing Nic will have my ass if I leave it there. ‘Start with dinner, will you, wifey?’
‘Of course, dear. You put your feet up.’
I take the stairs two at a time, grabbing my towel from my room before making a quick stop at Tilda’s. Empty. I peer round, seeing her stuff still strewn about. It’s become a bit of a daily dread, the thought of returning to see all her things gone, packed off back to halls. I’m sure she’d let us know first, but there’s no telling how that slimy ex-boyfriend of hers might twist her arm.
Slinging my towel over my shoulder, I enter the bathroom, faltering for a moment at the sight of the bath full to the brim with bubbles. The room’s foggy with steam, the air smelling like sickly sweet vape liquid.
Then I spot skin between the bubbles, Tilda’s hair darkened to black by the water.
She’s like fucking Ophelia, the sight causing my heart to jackhammer.
Dunking my hand into the water, I grab at any bit of her I can.
She sits up, palming water off her face, makeup running. ‘Oh, hey. You’re back.’
‘Tilda, baby.’ I put a hand on my chest, breathing out a harsh breath. ‘Don’t fucking do that.’
She smirks, rearranging the bubbles to cover all her important bits. ‘Thought I’d topped myself? In a drowning way?’
‘You were doing a pretty good impression. Didn’t tell me you were half fish.’
She carries on smiling, the silence of the room reminding me she’s full on naked under those bubbles.
‘Came to use the shower,’ I say uselessly, plucking at the towel on my shoulder.
Tilda glances down at the water, running a gentle hand along its surface. ‘Pretty big tub.’
She’s joking, obviously. She’s a top-class fucking joker. But like I said before, I know how to take advantage of an opportunity when it’s dangling in front of me.
I strip off my joggers, dropping my towel on top of them. Tilda’s still looking down when I step into the water but very quickly snaps her head up.
‘Woooah, naked here.’
I smirk, settling in behind her. ‘You’re telling me.’
‘You’re crazy,’ she says. ‘Literally crazy. You’ve still got clothes on!’
‘Would you rather I didn’t? I can make that happen.’
She shakes her head, hair plastered to her back like an oil spill. There’s a tattoo on her left shoulder but I can’t make out the design.
‘You invited me in,’ I say to her.
‘I need to stop joking so much with you. It’s clear you’re a literal creature.’
‘Not literal. Just hear what I wanna hear.’
She chuckles, still fussing with those damn bubbles.
I stroke a gentle finger along her arm. ‘Is this okay? Because despite what Elly says about me, there’s nothing more of a turn off than doing something a girl isn’t into.’
‘This is fine,’ she assures. ‘Really weird but fine. Besides, there’s nothing going on here, is there? Just two gal pals saving water.’
‘Right,’ I chuckle. ‘I don’t have a boner at all. Not at all.’
Tilda laughs. ‘Such a guy. Harriet—and I’m being legit serious here—am I actually your type? Like, for real. Would you go home with someone like me? Or are you just messing with me?’
‘Yes, already did, and yes. Tilda, man, I hate people. I wouldn’t get into a fucking bath with just anyone.’
She hums and I know without looking there’s a smile on her face. ‘Shame about the blue balls you’re gonna get with me living here then.’
‘Believe me, there’s no shame in you living here.’ Leaning forward into the wet heat of her, I put my mouth to her ear. ‘Sharing a bath is one thing, but it won’t be long ‘til you’re sharing my bed.’
There’s a long pause where I don’t dare move.
‘That was good, actually,’ Tilda finally replies. ‘I felt a tingle.’
My grin goes unseen. ‘Yeah, and how about multiple orgasms, wanna feel that?’
‘Not sure a girl can make that happen, but sure. Who wouldn’t wanna feel that?’
‘Only one way to find out, princess.’
I give her wet hair a ruffle before heaving my way out the bath and picking up my towel. Don’t want to overstay my welcome.
‘You know where I live, just say the word.’ At the door, I swing back. ‘Or no words. A kiss would do the job.’