Chapter 5 #2
Taking the opportunity to check my phone before the lunch crowd appears, I log back into my Instagram.
After blocking Dominic last night, I’m not expecting to see any red dots on my notifications tab, and I don’t.
I navigate back to Rain’s account to look at the photo of him again, only to discover it’s been deleted.
I refresh the page to see if I’m missing something, but no, it’s definitely not there.
What the fuck? I consider that maybe he didn’t know it had been posted with him tagged, and when he realised, he panicked.
The thought hasn’t even fully formed before I see a DM pop up while my phone is in my hand, the tell-tale red dot sending dread rolling through my whole body. Nervously, I open my messages to see an unread one from the same account that posted the photo of Rain. Jesus Christ.
@wren-the-farmer: Corey? Hi. My name is Wren and I think we have a shared acquaintance...
My stomach leaps into my throat, and I have to squeeze my eyes shut tight for a second to control the burgeoning hope in my chest. With shaking hands, I start to type out a reply.
@core-bear: Oh, really? I only have one person I’m hoping to hear from…could it be him? He’s a private dancer…
The reference to our silly little in-joke is the only thing I can think of to make it clear to Rain, if this is indeed somehow connected to him, that I want to speak to him and know he’s OK.
@wren-the-farmer: Does he dance for money?
@core-bear: Fuck...Rain? Is that you?
@wren-the-farmer: Yes babe. It’s me. Are you OK?
The relief filling me is palpable, tears stinging my eyes.
He’s OK. I mean, I knew he was alive, at least, since I saw the photo.
But honestly? Knowing he’s on the other end of this message thread has a lump forming in my throat and a sudden desperation to escape this shitty life and go be with him.
I may have made good friends here in Emma and John, but I need to do something to get myself out of that damn tent.
It’s no way to live long term, and quite aside from anything else, I want to finally make my gran proud.
She was so supportive of me when she took me in and helped me through uni.
And I feel like I squandered her support and wasted the degree I worked so bloody hard for.
I need to take a step to get myself one bit closer to the life both she and I wanted for myself.
And more than anything, I want to see for myself that Rain is really alright.
@core-bear: I’m fine. Worried sick about you! I thought he’d fucking killed you! Where are you?
@wren-the-farmer: I’m sorry I disappeared but...I’ll tell you all about it soon. Are you OK?
He’s avoiding answering my question about where he is, and it rankles. Does he not trust me? Does he think I’m going to tell Dan where he is? The thought hurts more than it should, but he clearly thinks I’m still there with them. He has no way of knowing I’ve been gone almost as long as he has.
@core-bear: Not going to tell me where you are?
@wren-the-farmer: Not on here babe...just in case. Are. You. OK???
I understand where he’s coming from. Truly, I do.
He finally managed to get away from Dan the psycho and wants to protect himself.
I know he doesn’t mean to imply I’d tell anyone where he is; he just wants to be safe.
The fact he’s repeatedly asking if I’m OK tells me he knows how toxic my situation with Dominic was, and is worried something happened to me, maybe even as a result of him leaving.
Is he feeling guilty? I don’t want that.
If Dan did something bad enough for him to run away and want to keep his new location this secret, then I don’t want him to lug around any guilt about me. I can’t say I’m not doing the same.
But how do I tell him I’m really not OK? Maybe I just need to be honest. Maybe he can help me figure out how to get out of this very tenuous situation I’m living in. Deciding honesty is the best policy, I start typing.
@core-bear: No. I’m so far from OK. I need help. I’m kind of stuck. When I thought he’d killed you, I ran. I was so fucking scared. I didn’t have anywhere to go so I jumped on about 4 trains all over the fucking place to make sure they couldn’t follow me. Paranoid, I know.
@wren-the-farmer: There’s no such thing as paranoid when it comes to those two. Corey...where are you? Where are you staying?
@core-bear: I’ve been sleeping rough but then when it got really cold, I went to a shelter. I get in there most nights. It’s in Coventry. I literally sent myself to Coventry. Who the fuck do I think I am...Lady Godiva?
Three dots bounce on the screen. It takes a while, and before his reply appears, John emerges from his office, rubbing his eyes.
He must be doing training plans on the computer.
I’ve tried to explain that if he got a newer computer, it would be a lot easier and faster, but he says he’s not getting rid of it as long as it works.
I think his definition of ‘works’ and mine might be quite different.
John leans against the reception desk, stretching his back side to side. He looks at the phone in my hand, and I immediately feel guilty. Is he going to think I’m sitting here skiving from work and doomscrolling?
“Sorry, John. I-I had a message from, er, my brother. I’ve not heard from him in a while, so I was just replying,” I lie terribly.
I always have done, and I’m sure John sees straight through me.
I hate that my first thought is I’ve disappointed him.
I’m fully aware he’s doing me a huge favour, employing me cash-in-hand and off the books.
But, after a few years in a relationship with someone who saw me as an asset to be sold to the highest bidder, my self-confidence is basically in the gutter, and my natural urge to seek approval is crawling under my skin.
I swallow thickly, making a conscious effort to stem the spiral of intrusive thoughts threatening my mind. I’m not totally successful. What if he’s going to sack you? Refuse to pay you because you’ve not worked your hours? Get angry and shout, or lash out?
John’s heavy hand on my shoulder shakes me out of my own head, and he tilts his with a look of concern on his face.
“OK?” he asks, and I nod with a small smile.
“I’m sorry for being on my phone. I’ll stay a bit later to make up for it.”
“Don’t be daft, it’s quiet. You’re fine.” He squeezes my shoulder reassuringly before making his way into the kitchen. A few seconds later, I hear the hum of the microwave as he heats up some leftovers for his lunch.
“Corey,” he calls from the kitchen doorway. I look up at him and lift my chin in question.
“Yeah?”
“There’s some leftover stew and dumplings in the fridge for you.” My lips curve in a smile at him, but he’s already gone.
I look down at my phone again and see Rain’s reply is finally there. Oh, nope. Not Rain, in fact.
@wren-the-farmer: Corey, this is Aidan. I’m a friend of Rain’s. We’re going to come and collect you, and you will come and stay with us. At least until you get settled. I’m going to have to insist on that as I can’t have Rain worrying about you.
My chaotic thoughts from just a moment ago are immediately settled by the clear instruction. “Go and be with your friend, poppet. You can’t carry on like you are.” Gran’s voice in my head echoes the pull in my gut. Rain and I had a plan after all.
If we ever got away from London, we were going to settle somewhere together. The fact he’s reaching out now and hasn’t left me behind like I feared, means something.
I’ve always tried to follow my instincts, and while I’ll be sad to leave Emma and John, I can stay in touch with them both. Emma, who accepted me so easily and wanted nothing from me but friendship, and John, who’s been a bit of a rock star since I met him.
But deep down, I know this is the right thing to do.
If for no other reason than I can’t keep living in a tent.
Not through the winter. It won’t be long before someone figures out I’m camped in the roundabout, and I’ll either get moved along by the police or messed with by some drunken idiots on their way home from a night out.
I’m the master of boom, life changed overnight. I’ve done it many times before, and maybe this time might just be the last time. Decision made, I type out my reply to Aidan.
@core-bear: I wish I had enough pride to say no thanks, but Rain is literally my only friend. Thank you. But I have a little money. I know you don’t want to say where you are but is there somewhere closer than Coventry that I can get to by train maybe?
A twinge of guilt at my dismissal of Emma lands in my chest. I know she would have my back regardless, especially after last night. But I need this, and I have to detach myself, and this is as good a place to start as any. If I don’t, I’m not sure I’ll be brave enough to get on a train.
Aidan replies, telling me to get a ticket to Attleborough, wherever the heck that is, and I switch to the Trainline app to search for a ticket.
With a couple of changes and a journey just short of four hours, I can be there.
I book the ticket, only hesitating for a moment at the cost, but since this is exactly what I’ve been saving my wages for, I don’t worry about it.
Besides, if they’re doing me this huge favour and giving me somewhere safe to stay, a fresh start, then I want to make it as easy as humanly possible for them to collect me.
I quickly message Aidan and Rain back before I hustle out from behind the desk to start cleaning the gym equipment and giving the showers a mid-morning once-over.