Chapter 16
Keira
The rain drizzled down lazily, soaking through Keira’s jogging bottoms. Her waterproof coat was leaky; there were definite wet patches on her skin.
Running in winter was not her favourite activity.
She jumped sideways when a car approached a large puddle next to the pavement and avoided the worst of the spray, but some of it still speckled her ankles and shins.
She pushed onwards, ignoring all the mud and detritus that now caked her skin.
The late morning light barely broke through the clouds, making it seem much more like late evening, the day drawing to a close before it had even begun.
The wind ripped around, biting at any snippet of exposed skin.
The cold and her exertion reddened her face, and she was grateful she’d grabbed her gloves on the way out of the door.
She was already fantasising about the long, hot shower at home as she rounded onto her street, accidentally stepping straight into a puddle with a splosh.
Her fingers were cold and numb by the time she opened the front door and stepped inside, immediately shutting it behind her to keep out the cold.
She draped her coat over a chair next to the radiator by their front door.
The house was much warmer than outside, but her father still had several blankets draped over him on the sofa.
The television was off, which was unusual since, even when he was reading, he normally had it on for background noise.
“Good run?” her dad asked, not looking up from his book.
“Wet,” she said grumpily, taking off her squelching shoes and putting them under the chair by the radiator. Hopefully, they wouldn’t stink the house out too much as they dried.
“Do you want a cuppa?” she asked, peering in on her dad.
“Can’t. There’s a power cut or something,” her dad said nonchalantly.
Keira froze.
“Power cut?” she asked, aiming for casual, already thinking about the medication they had to keep chilled in the fridge.
“Yeah, about ten minutes after you left, everything turned off. I had a look at the fuses, and I couldn’t see anything.”
She glanced at the fuse box, high up near the hallway’s ceiling, and grimaced at the idea of her dad climbing onto a chair he’d dragged from the kitchen.
But she’d also seen lights on in some houses she ran past, including some on her street.
She returned to the hallway and opened the cabinet that house the pre-paid metre. The message on the screen revealed a negative credit. The gas metre wasn’t much better, a few pence left on it. She snatched the pre-payment cards out of their slots and shut the cabinet door.
“I’m going to pop to the shop, Dad,” she said, putting her soggy trainers and coat back on.
“Mm-hmm,” her dad replied, already back to reading his book.
She slipped out the door and shut it behind her.
How could I be so careless? Topping up the gas and electric had been her responsibility since she came home.
She didn’t want her dad to have to leave the house when he was immunocompromised, or it was raining, just to put money on the cards.
She tried to remember the last time she’d checked it, but couldn’t.
She’d been too distracted by basketball and ice rinks and alluring blue eyes to remember.
She got her phone out of her pocket, checked her bank balance, and winced.
She didn’t get paid until the end of the month.
Her dad’s meagre benefits weren’t due for another week, either, and most of that went towards the mortgage.
Winter was going to be hard if she couldn’t find another job soon.
She walked to the local corner shop, doing the calculations in her head for how long they’d been without power, and how warm the fridge could have got in that time. It couldn’t have been long, surely? She wondered if she’d need to get hold of the doctor and ask for more of the medication.
The corner shop owner greeted her jovially. His store had already geared up for Christmas; there were stocking fillers on the end of every aisle.
“Thirty on each, please,” she said. Her stomach curled. That would basically drain her bank account. But it would mean her dad will stay warm and the contents of the fridge will be safe, so it is worth it.
By the time she got home, the cold had seeped into her bones, and she shivered uncontrollably.
She re-inserted the pre-payment cards, and the lamp in the living room flicked back on.
Relief flooded through her. Her dad glanced up, then returned to his book.
She hoped he hadn’t noticed they’d run out of money on the metre.
She casually walked to the kitchen, relieved when she heard the hum of the fridge.
Opening the door, she looked at the small fridge thermometer she’d bought for inside.
Five degrees. She breathed a sigh of relief, though it was a temporary reprieve.
Her stomach clenched as her brain started spiralling.
What if that had happened overnight, and they’d lost his medication and all their frozen food?
Or while she was away with basketball, forcing him to trudge to the shop himself, and expose himself to an incalculable number of pathogens? She shuddered.
The long, hot shower she’d been planning on taking became a short, warm shower. The gas balance had to last as long as possible. She also decided to start showering at the Blizzards’ venue after every training session, not just the late ones. She could save a bit of money that way.
Wrapping a towel around herself, Keira sat on her bed and used a second towel to dry her hair.
She picked up her phone and looked at the lock screen picture — a group photo from the Winter Wonderland trip.
She and Amelia stood next to each other, grinning after their Ferris wheel ride.
She remembered how badly she had wanted to continue holding Amelia’s hand.
She thought about how badly she wished she could hold her hand now.
She unlocked her phone to text Amelia even though she knew she was working.
That had been why she’d turned her down for joining Keira on the run.
Probably a good thing, considering. Her fingers hovered over the keyboard, though, as she wondered what to say.
Should she invite her somewhere, or would that sound desperate after Amelia turned down joining her for a run?
Should she make a joke about not missing out on getting soaked like she’d done?
Should she say nothing at all and wait for Amelia to reach out?
Keira put down her phone and continued drying her hair before getting dressed. Eventually, her resolve dissipated, and she picked up her phone and texted Amelia.
Hey, fancy doing something this weekend? X
She pressed send and put her phone face down on the bed, to stop herself being tempted to compulsively check for a reply.
She moved to her desk and sat at her laptop to continue her job hunt.
Finding something part-time for which she was qualified was proving difficult, so she was applying for anything that would allow her to maintain her basketball commitments and her commitment to her father.
But she wasn’t having any luck, even with supermarkets looking for seasonal workers.
Later that evening, Keira cleared up her and her dad’s dinner plates, washing them in the sink.
Her dad had settled in his usual chair, and was snoring lightly.
Her gloved hands were covered with soap suds when her phone rang in her pocket.
She ripped off the gloves and quickly shut the kitchen door.
Simultaneously, she picked up her phone to answer the call.
She hesitated when she saw it was Amelia calling, as a teenage-crush panic rose in her throat.
She chastised herself for being so silly, then answered.
“Hey,” she squeaked, before immediately flushing red. She was glad it was only a voice call.
“Hey,” Amelia said. Keira heard a car indicator in the background; it sounded like Amelia was driving with her on speakerphone. “I’m sorry I’ve been so distant; work has been manic,” Amelia said.
“It’s okay, I know you’re busy.”
“Yeah, but that’s no excuse for neglecting you.”
A warmth spread through her at Amelia’s gentle tone.
“How was your run? Did you…bump into anyone?” Amelia asked, tone mischievous. Keira laughed, and the tension drained out of her shoulders as she leant back on the counter behind her.
“No, I didn’t mortally wound anyone on my run,” she replied, rolling her eyes. “I got rather wet, though.”
“Oh, did you now?” Amelia’s suggestive tone made Keira’s cheeks heat. She was acutely aware her father was in the next room.
“I am not going to dignify that with a response.”
Amelia chuckled down the line.
“What else have you done today?” Amelia asked.
The indicator sounded again in the background.
Keira hesitated. She’s spent a long time being fiercely independent, barely accepting help, even from Sonia.
She didn’t want to admit weaknesses to Amelia.
But the near miss with the electricity had scared her.
“I had to do an emergency run to the corner shop to top up the electric metre,” she said quietly.
“Oh?”
“Our electricity got cut off.” She sighed. “I feel so stupid.”
“Hey, no," Amelia soothed. “Accidents happen, right?”
“Yes, but—”
“No buts. You wouldn’t speak to me like that, so don’t speak to yourself like that either. You don’t deserve it.”
“But I put Dad’s medication at risk.”
She could almost hear the pity in her silence.
“Would it help if I sent you some money to put on the electricity, to give you a buffer?” Amelia asked.
“No, it’s okay. I’ve topped it up now.”
“I know, but—”
“We’re not charity cases,” she interjected more harshly than she meant to.
“I didn’t say you were,” Amelia said softly. “It’s okay to need help sometimes.”
“Says the person who refuses to let anyone help her.”
They lapsed into silence. Keira’s muscles had tensed back up, reacting like Amelia’s offer of help was a threat. Amelia meant well, but the idea of taking money, and therefore pity, from her friends made her nauseous. The idea of taking money from someone she’d recently seen naked was even worse.
“Did you see my text, about meeting up this weekend?” Keira asked, changing the subject.
“Yes, I can’t do this weekend, sorry, but what about next weekend? We could visit the Christmas market?” Amelia suggested.
“Ooohhh, I love the market.”
“I’ve never been,” Amelia admitted.
“Well, then we have to go!” She brightened. She heard the living room television click back on. Her dad must have woken up again. “Right. I need to go. Text me when and where you want to meet?” Keira asked.
“Sure,” Amelia agreed. “And, Keira, promise me, if you ever can’t top up the metre, or are struggling with anything else in that regard, you’ll let me help?”
She sighed, her pride already climbing out of its box, ready for battle.
“Please?”
She fought to squash her pride back down.
“Okay, I promise.”
“Thank you. I’ll text you later. Bye.”
“Bye.”
She hung up the phone and sighed. Part of her wanted to throw it against the wall, but that would only have made her money troubles worse. Being suave with the person you liked, while they simultaneously offered you pity money, was impossible.
Keira put her phone back on the counter, partly to remove temptation and partly to finish cleaning up the kitchen, not that much needed doing.
Keeping the entire house clean and tidy had been a useful distraction for her when her brain was running away with itself, like a train whose brakes had failed.
By the time she returned to the living room, the kitchen was spotless.
“Who was that?” her dad asked.
“Amelia.”
“Mm-hmm.” He sounded bemused by the information.
“We’re going to go to the Christmas market next weekend. Do you want me to get you anything?” she asked, hoping to fend off any probing questions.
“No, I’m good. You girls have fun.”
“We’re hardly girls, Dad.”
“You’ll always be my little girl,” he mumbled, smiling at her.
She pulled the coffee table towards herself and set up a chess game.
It would help keep her hands busy and distract her from thinking too much about Amelia.
Had they just arranged a date, or was it just two friends, who happened to have recently slept together, hanging out?
They’d barely spoken since that night. Amelia had work, and Keira feared the feelings she was having and what they meant.
Perhaps they could talk at the Christmas market.
Maybe the awkwardness would disappear once they saw each other in person.