u/grammpapi

Open to any comments

(1-6)

Prologue 

It's almost pitch black in a dingy room, lit only through the dusty window by passing cars. A young frail looking girl lies on a stained mattress unmoved by passing headlights. She's only 20 something, yet her peaceful face shows a long, hard life, decorated with spots, scars and patches of dirt. Her hair, messy and greasy, lays tangled under her. While she lays sleeping a shadow of a hooded man appears in the passing lights. He disrupts her sleep, shaking her awake. 

“Lucy”, her name is called, stern, just above a whisper. Her bloodshot eyes crack open, a small slit, a space that once glistened, peeps up at the hooded man. She groggily tries to push him off, her strength clearly lost to her sleep, she rolls onto her side, the slits closing again. 
 “Get up, we're going, we need to get away” the shaking grows, stronger and more frantic.
 “You need to sort your shit out, get up” a hand grabs the back of her neck firmly. 

Sunrise lights up the brown pebble dash walls of a large, looming tower block. Litter blows across the concrete, there's no greenery, a big planter sits full of empty beer bottles and other discarded items. Bigger items, a smashed tele, clearly used mattress, washing machine lay against and around it. Along the concrete, still with the man's hand gripping the back of her neck, Lucy walks. She lurches with irregular steps guided by the man. He towered over Lucy, although had a slim figure. He had done his best to hide himself in a grey sweatshirt hoody, underneath a thick warm looking black puffer jacket. Despite this a drawn out, stern face, would peer over each shoulder simultaneously. Although, there was clearly no one around the looming tower block.  His legs move quickly, his foot plants each step into the ground, grey jogger bottoms hang loose around his slender legs as they approach the tower block.

PART 1 - 

They approach the entrance of  their new flat, it's not a big flat, certainly not flash by any means, damp patches cover the wall, torn wall paper hangs from the wall.
 “This is the last time I’m doing this” lucy in her soft voice
  The man follows Lucy in through the front door, at this point it was more plywood than door, instead of a number it was adorned with the remains of what was once a window. 
“I know, I know. This is the last time”. A voice comes from the hood, barely over a whisper, as he looks left and right down the walkway that leads to their flat, there's no danger, there's nothing. No noise other than the sound of a dead bolt and chain locking, his only stipulation for a home josh closes the door.

  “Its the same every other year now josh, we pack up in the middle of the night, leave our home, our”
   “You mean your dealer and those crack heads, some life you've made lucy… I'm sorry, but it had to be done, i dont like it anymore than you, we just need to keep our heads down this time. We have eachother.. Look at you… lucky Lucy, "Josh says with overly exaggerated sarcasm. 
  “I had what I had, beats what you had, which begs the question why do you always get to know when we're leaving it would be nice for me to be able to bring something”. Lucy sits on the empty floor. She situates herself in an illuminated rectangle on the floor as if the street lamp, their only working light, was hers and hers alone. 
  “Dont give me that crap lucy you know why you dont know, whats the point of moving 150 miles if your drug dealer will just hook you up with another of his cousins…anyway i brought you things this time”. Josh dumps his bag for life on the floor, he disparagingly  throws a sleeping bag at Lucy. He unfolds a deck chair dropping it in the corner, he wanders over to the window casting a shadow over Lucy's spotlight. After looking left and right no less than 3 times, Josh takes his throne in their new home Lucy simply relishes in her light as she wraps a sleeping bag around herself. Josh continues by dumping an assortment of items from his bag. No more than 8 packets of dried noodles fall out as well as 3 bottles of shower gel, 2 nail brushes and 4 tubes of tooth paste. Lucy looks at the food and then looks up at Josh, barely visible in the darkness of their new home. 
   “Dont be a prick right now, all youre giving me is a fucking sleeping bag… give me some noodles” lucy, almost attempting to barter. 
   “There's something else” josh waves a baggy in front of lucy, before throwing it at her, knowing a deal is already done. The baggy lands in the spotlight with Lucy.
  “But that's it, that's all there is, you do it now you'll never see anymore i promise you. Its not happening again”. Josh begrudgingly throws a pack of dried noodles at her, they land in the shadows.

Lucy picks up the baggy, sleeping bag falling off her back, she holds it, stares at it, her finger tips tingle at the burning heat she can feel through the baggy.

PART 2 - 

  Mid day on a small carbon copy estate, kids are skipping school preferring the education that can be gained in a place like this sat on a wall, they laugh as a more presentable man walks past, but he does not notice, head down he walks along a path adjacent to a row of terrace flats, gardens filled with empty bottles, ashtrays, and uncollected rubbish. The presentable man, 
Kevin approaches a door, he knocks firmly without rhythm. The door opens as much as the dead bolt allows a leathery woman's face peers through the gap. 
  “Is Lucy there, have you seen her?”. Kevin asks, allowing no room for pleasantries. 
  “I don't know who you are or what she owes, but i couldnt careless” she attempts to close the door on Kevin, who had pre-emptively put his foot in the gap. Her pressure releases and kevin attempts to plea
 “It's not about anything like-” he's cut off by Lucy's mother. 
 “Theres always some idiot who takes pity on the poor whore he fucks, although they usually bring flowers” the door slams in kevins face, who had been quite literally been so taken aback by her bluntness, he’d relinquished his footing. 

PART 3- 

Josh walks past a group of 3 lads sitting on a wall with his hood up. Although they are different boys, all the same, they do not laugh as Josh drags a mattress, first in through some beat up double doors and then into a lift. Through the whole process his head moves as if boxing, staring at the ground before a quick up and left right, he sees everything he needs to in those brief glances up at reality. He makes it to the unnumbered plywood door, with a rhythmic pattern he taps on the door. A few moments pass before we hear the locks click, in this time Josh looks left and right more than a dozen times, his feet tap, clearly not liking being in one spot his entire body seems to try and escape. 

  The door creeks open, Lucy clearly strung out, stumbles back into the living room, propped up by a wall and then not. she slouches to her side and then lays on the floor, silent.  Light now fills the room through the dusty window, Lucy's stage now fully set as a mattress hits the floor, sending dust particles flying through the beams of dimmed natural light. Lucy doesn't move, nor does she acknowledge the small comfort.    

 Water runs in the bathroom, the sound of aggressive cleaning is heard through the paper wall. The sound of something being filled with water and then the sudden splash followed by Josh exhaling. The system repeats a few times. Before Josh returns in some worn grey jogging bottoms and an open puffer coat with nothing underneath. Water drips below him, still clearly wet from his makeshift shower. Droplets fall onto Lucy as he stands over her.
  “Glad to see all that shit is gone. You need to wash it'll wake you up, then I'll do some food. I found some decent bits when I was out”. Lucy doesn't move, nor does she acknowledge him.

  Later that evening Lucy reluctantly accepts her welcome back to reality, head pounding as she sits with her back on the wall, her heavy head in her hands. Josh is in the box of a kitchen boiling water in a pan he has a packet of dried spaghetti he doesn't put very much in the pan, as the water boils around the pasta, josh stabs a knife into a tin of beans, after a short moment josh pours out the water before pouring the beans into the pasta, he's much more generous with his portion of beans. 

  Josh saunters into the living room. “Lucy in the sky with diamonds”. Josh, unharmoniously sings to Lucy before dropping a bowl of beans and pasta next to where she is slumped. 
  “I'm not hungry” Lucy's head does not move from her hands. 
  “Cmon now Lucy, I need you fighting fit” Josh laughs as he checks both ways out the window. “This isn't just the last chance Lucy, it is also a fresh chance. This really could be the place, we just need to keep our heads down and you out of trouble”
Lucy doesn't say anything, instead opting to at least entertain Josh. She stirs her food, she looks deeply into the bowl, as if the beans and pasta were some sort of tea leaf at the bottom of a mug. Josh, happy with his security check, advances to his deck chair, he sits high and mighty, his bowl in his lap, he feasts. Before Lucy has time to figure out the future, Josh is finished with his bowl. 
  “Cmon girl eat up, i've got a treat for you afterwards”
 Lucy looks up at him, blankly, she gazes back down at the bowl, she eats a few bite sized mouth fulls. 
  “Seriously i ca-”
Shes cut off by josh, “fine, you're just strung out, don't waste it”
 Lucy slides the meal across the floor, Josh leans forward and scoops it up, it replaces the empty bowl in his lap, his back hunches over and his arm wraps around the bowl and Josh, wasting no time, devours the sustenance. Josh opens his back pack, “look what some idiot left at the bus stop”.
Josh waves a greggs bag. “Some idiot left a whole caramel thing, these are your favourite"
Josh pauses, Lucy, back in her slumped position, remains still.
 “Fine, well it'll go bad” Josh lets the paper bag fall to the floor, eating the whole thing in 3 bites.
 “I can't see what all the fuss is about” Josh remarks, having not even tasted it.

PART 4 - 

 
Morning light bleeds into the damp room. Lucy had somehow made it to half the mattress last night after spending the majority of the night still against the wall. Her shoulders and lighter head rest on the mattress. Josh makes the most of comfort, his back to the wall, his tall body taking up the length of the mattress, feet dangling off the edge, his puffer coat keeping him warm. 

 The calm is quickly disrupted by a gentle knock at the door. Josh's instinct acts like a strong coffee, awake and alert josh peers through the kitchen window, his hands softly find the knife he'd prepared dinner with and slide it into the back of his joggers. As Josh peers into the walkway he sees an elderly lady. Unfortunately for Josh she catches his eye keeping one hand on the knife, deftly Josh moves towards the front door. 
  “What” Josh spits out.
  “I saw you dragging that mattress, I've been there…” her voice is soft and sympathetic.
  “ i just wanted to bring some food, i live-”
  “You don't know me like that. Thanks but no thanks ma’am”
  “I just thought-”
Josh bangs the fragile door, causing it to boom. The lady steps back.
  “No thanks”
Josh walks back into the living room, Lucy had been disrupted, but was unaware of why.
  “What time is it?” she asks, rubbing her eyes. 
  “Half 10” Josh gives nothing away.
  The room remains silent, an unspoken tension hanging between them.

PART 5 - 

Kevin sits opposite a put together lady in a well lit greasy spoon. In front of them are two cups of coffee as well as Kevin's laptop playing a video.
  “The video is doing really well Meesh”. Kevin sips his coffee, looking over sincerely at Meesh.
  “Thanks I know, you've really inspired me, more people need your help kevin…youre a good guy.” Meesh hesitates “I still don't understand why you put yourself through it, no one else seems to care”.
  “Ive been there Meesh. I know what it's like. Speaking of helping others, I did some digging around for your old friend Lucy, but I didn't have much luck”. Kevin stares into his coffee.
  “I don't want to put you in an awkward position, but do you have any of your old dealers numbers or names… anything”. Kevin waits with bated breath.
  “I dont… It's been a long time, a lifetime ago. Look Kevin, I really want to help but… I can't go searching back through the life I left behind”. 
   “I understand” Kevin's eyes do not rise from his coffee.
  “Look kevin i should go, i have a meeting, but im really happy with the video… and if i can think of a way to stay separate and help you, i will” meesh’s hand rests briefly on his arm before she leaves, her words hanging heavy. 

 
Kevin sips the remainder of his coffee, silently contemplating his next move, he was sure of it, sure Lucy was the girl he'd been looking for. Kevin's eyes drift to the window, he watches people go by, any of them could know, any of them could be the one.   

 Kevin watches as a man in an oversized Adidas jacket stands across from the greasy spoon, he perches in the bus stop clearly looking shifty. He's soon approached by another man. They shake hands and briefly embrace, but before they can even begin to chat, they're walking separate ways.

Before he could himself acknowledge what he was doing Kevin was following the man in the adidas jacket, first slowly, then briskly, Kevin speed walked towards the man.    

“Hey mate, just a second, i need a favour” Kevin calls out sounding more sheepish than intended.
  The man turns and stops,his chest puffs out as he scans Kevin, looking him up and down dirtily before walking on. Kevin couldn't stop himself, his hand was on the man's shoulder.
  “The fuck you think youre doing step back dickhead i aint got nothing for you”  his gold teeth sparkle as he bites back at kevin.
  “Not looking for trouble, I think you might know a friend of mine I'm looking for”. Kevin pulls his phone out, it's already open on Lucy's picture.
  “Lucky I don't snatch that shit right now, what are you anyway some fed? PI? I don't have time for this shit” the man pushes the phone away from him without even looking. 
  “Just a look please man, I'm desperate” Kevin pleads. 
  “You sound like a nitty, do you know where you are, asking random man for favours” 
  Kevin holds the phone out. “Please”
The man kisses his teeth. “Dont give up do you” the man looks down at the phone. “Shit i hate to be the one to tell you but thats a crack head, prolly in a ditch or doing tricks” the man spares no sympathy. 
  “How do you know she's a crack head”
  “Im just tryna make money g, dont involve me with your domestic” the man turns and begins to walk away. 
  “Wait cmon man anything, im begging, money thats what you want? 50 quid tell me something i dont know” kevins final attempt. 
The man eyes the money. “Dickhead… look I served a lot of crack heads around here, served her for a minute. She was a good girl, always paid. No trouble but i aint seen her for a few months”
The man snatches the money, while Kevin processes the information. 

PART 6 - 

Lucy sits on the toilet in their cramped bathroom. She begins to sob. “Josh please I'm clean, I can't be cooped up in here”.
  “I hear you lucy, well go out tomorrow, just come have your dinner” josh drones from the next room. 

  Lucy walks into the squat living room, Josh in his usual corner he slurps up plain spaghetti noodles, Lucy eyes her bowl of plain pasta, already full from the sight alone. 
  “If you're gonna keep me cooped up let me get a cat or something?”
  Josh laughs directly at her, mouth full of food. “Yeh right, the last time you looked after something” unusually josh stops himself. “Another mouth to feed doesn't sound like what we need right now”.
Lucy doesn't bite at Josh's words or the meal.

Lucy wakes up to light on her face, this morning she awoke fully on the mattress, her head feels clearer, she turns to face Josh who is still asleep, back to the wall. 

Suddenly, Lucy bolts upright. She runs to the bathroom, the sound of splashing into the toilet as Lucy hurls into the bowl. The noise wakes up Josh who lays unfazed looking at the ceiling. After a few loud, painful sounding moments Lucy returns, the living room is silent.    

Finally josh breaks the silence, “its not my cooking ill tell you that”
  “I think it's just… everything leaving my system” she said unconvincingly, Lucy had detoxed before. This wasn't that. 

  Later that day, Lucy's head, ever clearer, pleads with Josh. “I need to get out of here, these 4 walls, it's all I've seen for weeks”.
  “For fucks sake” josh resigns, “fine. Half hour that's it and keep your bloody head down”.
Lucy, overjoyed  is out the door before Josh has a chance to think, as she bounds out the door she almost collides with armie. 

  “Oh my dear, I thought I heard a ladies' voice, it's lovely to meet you” armie in the softest tone. Lucy is speechless, mouth a gape. “h-hi” , Lucy's side eyes the old woman.
  “How far along are you?” Armie puts a hand on Lucy's belly, Lucy's mouth now impossibly wide. “Im a mother of 4 and a grandmother of 7 i can tell”. 
 Lucy's hand clings to armies, the kitchen door slams and Lucy pushes her off and turns away from her leaning over the balcony soaking in a deja vu view. The same complex has the same problems. 
 Josh looks out from the threshold of the open front door, his beady eyes, hidden by his hood, scan the situation, unspoken tension fills the space between the 3 of them. Armie continues about her business walking away from the situation, Josh approaches Lucy from behind as she leans over the balcony. 

 “All okay out here? You sure you even need a walk, ill go to the shops for you, just tell me what you need” josh questions lucy, her mind is elsewhere on another estate, thinking of another time. She does not reply.
 “Lucy what” josh grabs her shoulders and pushes her violently forward. Shaking quickly from her day dream, Josh violently pulls her back into the present “dont ignore me, what are you doing” josh demands. 
 Lucy shaken, “nothing i was just..i was thinking, it's nice to not be in there. I'm sorry, I'm listening”.
 Josh, suddenly aware of prying eyes, takes Lucy's hand and leads her along the shared walkway.
 “Half an hour” he whispers.

Josh guides Lucy through secluded alley ways and shortcuts, anytime they are on the main 
street, josh crosses the road to avoid sharing the pavement with anyone coming towards them.

Lucy, caught between the fresh air and the flooding of thoughts, was armie right. Could she be? She refuses to even finish the thought, rather relishing in her moment out of her most recent box.

It's golden hour when Josh stops Lucy, they are in a huge field, the block they are so familiar with now rests with the sun setting behind it, it's quiet other than the noise of children playing in a nearby park. 
  “Lucy, you look so beautiful, you're telling the truth aren't you, you're clean, it's out your system” Josh sounds endearing. 
Lucy, clearly confused, looks at Josh quizzically, unable to meet his gaze due to his hood. “I told you i was” lucy questions herself.
  “But I see it now, you're glowing” Josh holds her chin as he positions her face in the light, Josh stands back and pulls out his phone and begins to take pictures of Lucy.
  “I want this moment, I want to keep this”
Does he feel bad for earlier? 

 Lucy questions herself in her mind, a new found sense of strength. She stops herself, i cant allow myself to slip up, it must be a trick, he's playing a game.
  “Truly lucy, I know we've been here before, but we can do it…look at you” smoothly, Josh twirls her in his hand, dancing her in the sunlight.
 Josh showers her with compliments as he continues to take pictures. Lucy begins to get intoxicated, it's been so long since she felt warmth, true warmth.

 The sunlight beams fully onto Lucy, infatuated she begins to pose and laugh, is she having a good time or has she finally lost it.  

Josh does not join in with the laughter; he continues to take pictures of Lucy, he decides to get wider and wider shots moving further from the star, Lucy. Josh savours the view, his special moment.

 Almost in an instance, Josh looks at his watch and the mood shifts. 
  “Okay cmon thats time”

I'm posting this because I need some help. I've tried everything, hot water soak, cold water shower, aloe vera. 

Let me explain. 

I recently got back from holiday, it was lovely, great food and brilliant people. 

Except for getting sun burnt.

 I was the only ginger in my friendship group. Probably the only ginger on the entire Greek island. But I refused to be left out just because of some sun. I still went to the beach everyday with my friends, drinking beers and having a laugh. My friends kept moaning telling me to put on more suncream, but I hadn't flown all that way to hide myself in the shade. 

It wasn't until I got home I realised how badly I'd burnt. I arrived back somewhat pink and tender, radiating heat. I spent the next couple of days lathering up with aloevera gel. 

It must've been 2 days later. I was back at work, back to reality, when I started to peel.

 It started small, pulling thin patches from my shoulders. They came off with ease, it was like taking the screen protector off a new phone.

 I was engrossed.

Then I pulled the perfect part, from the elbow straight down my forearm and over the back of my hand.

 I laid it out.

 I stared at it.

 It was perfect. 

My hand was wonderful to peel, I'd find an edge beginning to lift and peel it back delicately. I could see my freckles in it, the tiny grooves of my fingerprints, even the way it would stretch around an old scar. There would be a slight bit of tension before release, revealing a softer, newer flesh underneath. 

I'd taken to rubbing my feet together before bed, scratching away at an itch that I could never quite get. For some reason I found this comforting. I would drift off softly chasing the sensation. 

One morning I stood with my back to the shower, I'd neglected the loose skin there that I couldn't reach. The water found an opening on my shoulder and ran beneath the skin. I could feel the warm water spreading between my skin and back, it ballooned out and sagged before it finally split.

 I stood and watched as skin, wasted, washed down the drain. 

But when I really think about it, that could've been one of my best pulls.

From then on I would pull the unreachable bits with some kitchen tongs and some good stretching in the mirror. For the itch I rubbed my back against the door frame, I thought about stopping when the lock scraped so hard it drew blood.

 For a moment the itch disappeared.

I went to work until they asked me to stop coming in. At first, I think they were concerned. People had mentioned I was getting thinner. 

Then concern turned to disgust. 

I heard people whispering that I smelt rotten. Of course they were exaggerating, a little BO at most. I just hadn't showered properly in a while.

People started to wonder why I was at work with a long sleeve shirt. I told people I was embarrassed by the peeling.

 Truth is, I knew I wouldn't be able to resist pulling away at it at work. I'd be typing away and small pieces would flake off and land on my desk.

 I was missing out.

 I had to sneak to the bathroom and pull a few pieces for myself. It was better than any cigarette break I ever had. 

It was only a problem if I got a good piece. One time at work, my sock had made an indent around my leg, it made the perfect edge, slickly it pulled right up my calf all the way to my knee. 

I had to sneak it home. I kept it in my lunchbox so it wouldn't get damaged.

 It's my favourite piece in my collection. It took some of my tattoo with it.

 It looks beautiful. 

The layers seemed to get more red, more vibrant as more layers peeled off. With every layer my tattoos seemed to get brighter. Newer. Then parts of them began disappearing with skin I pulled away. Eventually I had none. 

A fresh canvas.

Then came the harder bits.

  I started using some tweezers to get in the tight spaces, my knuckles were tougher, they peeled off in callus lumps. But they preserved all the little creases and folds of the joint. I liked those. 

I peeled far enough down one finger that I finally reached the nail bed. Then I found the edge beneath the nail. 

Once I had the edge, it peeled off effortlessly. They'd been so itchy. 

I was never truly worried until I woke up and found my little toe in the corner of my fitted sheet. There was no blood. It had simply come off in the night.

 I put it in my collection, honestly I was unsure what to do with it, I didn't think it was truly collection worthy. Unlike my big toe, that felt collection worthy.

I didn't have to worry anyway, it wasn't long before I had a full collection.

I couldn't help but spend the whole day peeling, it was captivating, more captivating than work or anything else had ever been. 

Night started to roll in when my stomach grumbled and woke me from an itching daze. I looked at my hand, I peeled and scratched it completely raw.

My eye was caught. I could still see a piece, wedged in the corner of my knuckle.

I had a dental utensil. A long thin metal point, when i wasnt scratching the gaps in my teeth, I used it for small, awkward, unrewarding bits like this.

This was the first time I made it to the bone.

 This bit was deeper than others. When I hooked the point beneath it and pulled there was resistance. A sharp pinch. For a moment I thought I'd finally gotten it. Then the itch returned. I wasn't as disappointed as I should've been. 

But it was deeper this time. Inside the bone. 

I'm writing this with my right thumb, it's the only finger that still works on the screen. I'm lying in bed listening to the krrk… krrk… krrk of my feet rubbing together. They don’t feel soft anymore. But still it soothes me for a moment. 

The itch is everywhere now. I can feel it all over me, it's in my bones, I grind my teeth together trying to reach the itch inside them, but it's never enough. 

My left hand is bone, but it still itches. I stare at it when I drift off. It might be the light, but I swear I can see edges beginning to lift. 

 I don't want to run out. 

Author notes - first time posting, sorry it came out blocky, still getting used to Reddit.
Hopefully it’s decent enough to keep you reading, got another one in the bank if anyone’s interested.
Any constructive criticism is welcome.

Your early twenties are usually a turning point. All the angst and embarrassment of being a teenager is finally behind you. Most of the people you grew up with are starting to become adults; moving out, having kids, paying bills. I was no exception.
Paying bills isn’t the most exciting thing in the world, but for me it meant freedom. Thirteen years after my mum left, I’d finally escaped the house I’d shared with my dad. He was nice enough, but ever since she’d gone he’d been… vacant. The only thing we really had in common was the shared trauma of looking at each other and remembering what our family used to be.
Freedom helped me let go of that burden. We’d grown distant, but I knew he’d be there if I ever needed him. Sure enough, the time would come.
I’d been living on my own for six months after spending the previous two years working at the local Wetherspoons, The Iceni. I felt lighter. I was finally becoming my own person. I could make friends without worrying about the inevitable hangout ending back at my house, where they’d be completely ignored by my dad as he sat in a dimly lit room, drinking lager and watching some crap on the telly.
Funny enough, living alone somehow made the house feel more alive than it ever had with him. It was quiet, but I was no longer listening to the constant hum of the TV or the crack of another lager can.
The novelty didn’t last.
Like a cruel twist in some macabre Dickens tale, 2020 rolled around and the world was hit by a plague. High streets emptied, roads were deserted, and pub doors stayed shut.
For me, that meant no job.
No job meant no money.
No money meant no freedom.
Lockdown began, and while the world stopped, my bills kept coming. After a couple of months, I knew I had to accept my fate and return to the silence of the humming TV and cracking cans.
I arrived back… home.
As I pulled onto the driveway, something felt different.
I got out of my car, lingering for as long as possible. I expected it to be exactly the same as every other time I’d come home from college or work.
Open the door.
Walk through the kitchen.
Into the hallway.
Past the living room without so much as a glance from Dad as he watched the telly.
Up to my room.
Phone out.
Scroll.
Instead, I noticed the living room lights were on. I could hear a dog barking.
Then the side door opened.
My dad stepped outside, followed by a golden Labrador that bounded straight towards me.
“Hello, mate! How are ya? That’s Billy. Don’t mind him. Got him not long after you left. An old mate couldn’t look after him anymore.”
It felt like I hadn’t heard that voice in years.
Or seen that much life in him.
And Billy?
I’d never imagined Dad had noticed I’d gone, never mind felt the need to replace me.
“Hey, Billy.”
I crouched down and ruffled his fur while he leaned all his weight against me, licking my hands with his tail wagging furiously.
“Best friends already,” Dad laughed, nudging me. “Leave your bags in the car for now. Come grab a beer. Bet you’ve got loads of stories now you’re living on your own.”
I tried not to show how confused I was, but my silence spoke for me.
I followed Dad inside, Billy padding along at his heel.
Walking into the kitchen hit me harder than I expected.
For the first time in thirteen years, it actually looked like home again.
The memory I’d spent so long trying to forget suddenly didn’t feel so painful. Instead, it felt… warm.
Dad handed me a beer straight from the fridge.
For the first time in years, we just talked.
Conversation flowed easily. He never mentioned why he’d been so distant after Mum left, and I never asked.
Maybe we’d both finally started letting go.
Maybe we could finally see the family we still had.
Later that night I lay in my old bed smiling, an unfamiliar feeling in a very familiar room.
Billy lay asleep beside the bed.
Having a dog sleep next to me was something I’d wanted since I was a kid.
I’d take the small victory.
Maybe coming back wouldn’t be so bad after all.
I woke the next morning feeling groggy. I’d definitely gotten used to the lie-ins that unemployment allowed.
I climbed out of bed before suddenly remembering Billy had slept beside me.
My foot found the floor instead of a sleeping Labrador.
The brief panic woke me up properly.
Billy was gone.
I checked my phone.
11:00 a.m.
I shoved it into my pocket and wandered into the kitchen.
The house was empty.
I supposed it made sense. Even during lockdown people were allowed out for their daily exercise.
They’d probably be back soon.
I put the kettle on, made myself a coffee and headed out into the back garden.
It had always been an idyllic little place. The bungalow I’d grown up in sat in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by fields and birdsong.
Peaceful now.
Hell as a teenager.
The nearest town was over an hour away on foot, with no buses and no way of getting there besides my own two legs. It was another reason I’d always felt trapped.
I finished my coffee while soaking in the view before heading back inside.
I decided to boot up my old PC and replay a few games. There wasn’t much else to do in the middle of nowhere during a pandemic.
By the time I’d reached halfway through one game’s story, I realised I still hadn’t seen Dad or Billy.
Dad never took his phone with him, so calling wasn’t an option.
Before I knew it, the day had almost disappeared.
My stomach eventually made the decision for me.
I headed out to the freezer cupboard.
I’d always hated going in there as a kid. There was something unnerving about staring into the freezer while darkness loomed behind you.
I rummaged through the drawers.
Chicken nuggets.
Fish fingers.
Frozen chips.
Nothing that resembled a proper meal.
Then I felt a cold, wet nose against my ear.
I nearly launched myself over the freezer.
A childhood fear had just come to life.
Billy looked up at me innocently.
“What ya after?” Dad asked from somewhere behind me.
I took a second to calm my racing heart before turning around.
“You scared the hell out of me. Why’re you sneaking up on me like that?”
“I wasn’t sneaking around. You’re the one snooping through my freezer. What’re you looking for?”
“I was just trying to find something for dinner.”
“I’m trying to get away from all that beige crap. You should too. That’s just what’s left. Come on, I’ve got some butcher’s meat inside. I’ll throw together a stew.”
Dad disappeared into the kitchen and returned a few minutes later carrying two bowls.
One huge bowl of stew for me.
One bowl of meat and biscuits for Billy.
Billy, who’d been asleep moments before, was suddenly wide awake.
“Here.”
Billy walked over.
“Sit.”
Billy sat.
Dad placed the bowl down.
Billy didn’t touch it.
“Here ya go, bud.”
Dad handed me my stew. The smell alone sent a warm, homely feeling right through me.
Before I could thank him, he’d already wandered back into the kitchen.
Billy looked at me expectantly.
Dad returned with his own bowl, sat in his chair and switched on the TV.
“Go on then.”
Billy immediately tucked into his dinner.
“You’ve done really well with Billy. You’ve only had him six months?”
“Yeah… I dunno. We just clicked.”
He flicked through the channels until he landed on some old sitcom while I quietly lost myself in my stew.
For the first time in a long while, I actually felt at home.
I woke up a little earlier the next day, around half ten.
I fell straight back into the routine. Kitchen. Empty house. Kettle on. Coffee in hand.
I sat out in the garden and took a sip.
It reminded me of when I was sixteen, sneaking down here to smoke cigarettes. I don’t know what made me think of it, but suddenly I fancied one.
I’d quit a while back, but figured there might still be an old pack in the car.
No luck.
I found an old vape instead, but it was completely dry.
Then I remembered where I’d always got my cigarettes as a teenager.
They weren’t mine.
Dad had always kept a packet in his top drawer. The funny thing was, he’d always denied smoking, which meant he couldn’t exactly accuse me of stealing cigarettes that technically didn’t exist.
I assumed things hadn’t changed.
I wandered into his bedroom.
It was surprisingly tidy.
Not that long ago there would’ve been piles of washing in every corner. Now the bed was made and everything seemed to have its place.
I opened the top drawer.
No cigarettes.
Maybe he really had quit.
Then something else caught my eye.
A bottle of Black Opium perfume.
That’s not cheap, I thought.
Maybe it’d been Mum’s.
I picked it up, turning it over in my hands before spotting a pair of earrings tucked beside it. I couldn’t remember seeing either of them before.
Maybe he’d started looking back on Mum more fondly too.
I sprayed a little perfume onto my wrist.
The smell was sweet. Strong.
But it didn’t unlock any forgotten childhood memories like I’d half expected it to.
Disappointed by both the missing cigarettes and the perfume, I headed back down the garden to finish my coffee.
The rest of the day passed much like the one before. Games. Phone. Waiting.
Eventually I heard the front door open.
Billy came charging into my room, his tail wagging so hard it looked like it might fall off. He seemed even happier to see me than usual.
He sniffed all around me before burying his face in my lap.
His nose worked overtime as he nudged my hands and wrists before licking them over and over.
I had no idea what had got into him.
Before I could figure it out, Dad appeared in the doorway.
“Another long walk? Better hope the police don’t catch you.”
“They don’t bother coming round here,” he replied. “Middle of nowhere. No one to catch some silly virus off. Even they know that.”
He paused.
“Anyway, watch him for a minute. I’m gonna jump in the shower.”
Before I could answer, he’d disappeared.
“Looks like you’re stuck with me then, Billy.”
He was still obsessing over my hands.
“Come on, mate, what’s got into you? You need some water or something?”
I filled his bowl before taking him out into the garden.
I found an old tennis ball and threw it across the lawn.
He brought it back.
Then again.
On the fourth throw, something changed.
Halfway to the ball, Billy suddenly lifted his head, catching a scent on the breeze.
He ignored the ball completely.
Instead, he bolted towards the shed.
“What you doing, you silly Billy?”
He reached the old wooden door and immediately started scratching at it.
“What’ve you found? A rat or something?”
I walked over for a look.
Nothing.
No holes.
No movement.
No sound.
Just the old padlocked shed.
“Whatever it is, mate, you’ll have to wait till Dad’s out.”
Billy completely ignored me.
“Come on then. Let’s see what we can find for dinner.”
At the mention of food he hesitated, looking back at me with a quiet little whine.
“You’ll get yourself in trouble if you keep scratching that.”
I know I would’ve.
I clipped a hand around his collar and gently led him back inside.
Dad was already cooking.
“Mm… something smells good.”
“Steaks all round tonight, boys. We’re eating well.” He glanced over his shoulder. “Still like yours bloody, like your old man?”
“Most definitely.”
As I answered, I noticed a fresh scratch down his cheek.
“What happened to your face? Kill the cow yourself, did you? Is that why you were out so long?”
I laughed, probably a little too proud of my own joke.
“No. That bloody idiot came charging at me on the walk and jumped up. He’s lucky we’re not eating him.”
He turned back to the frying pan.
I thought about mentioning Billy scratching at the shed but, judging by Dad’s mood, decided against it.
Probably best to give them both some space.
Billy and I headed back to my room until dinner was ready.
The rest of the evening passed quietly.
Dad seemed more like his old self again.
Vacant.
I put it down to the scratches.
The following morning I expected another empty house.
Instead, I woke to music.
Johnny Cash.
I’d never liked him much as a kid, but nowadays it felt strangely comforting.
By the time I wandered into the kitchen, Dad was loudly singing along.
“Coffee?” he asked, never missing a beat.
“Go on then. No walk today?”
“Later, probably.” His deep voice somehow carried straight through the music. “Actually wanted to ask you a favour before I head out. Meant to ask last night, but if I’m honest, I was still a bit pissed off with that dog.”
“It’s alright. Looks a lot better today, anyway.”
I nodded towards the five claw marks running down his cheek.
“I’m sure I can survive doing something other than sitting at the PC.”
“Good man. The butcher’s dropping my meat off today. Can you sort it into the fridge and freezer? I’ll probably be out with Billy when he comes. Don’t want it sitting by the back door all day. Damp meat doesn’t smell too clever. Learned that one the hard way.”
“That’s grim… but yeah, no worries. Does he need paying?”
“Nah, it’s all sorted.”
He slung a backpack over one shoulder before picking up Billy’s lead.
Billy must’ve known exactly what it meant.
The second Dad reached for it, he was sitting patiently in front of him, waiting.
“Bag looks heavy,” I joked. “What’s in there? Bolt gun for the cows?”
Dad snorted.
“Water. Balls. Dog crap.”
Then they were gone.
A few hours later there was a knock at the door.
The butcher barely gave me chance to answer before he started stacking crates of meat inside.
The next hour disappeared into sorting what felt like half a cow between the fridge and freezer.
By evening, Billy came charging through the front door with Dad not far behind.
Billy launched himself straight onto the sofa beside me.
“I don’t know how you do it, you silly bugger. Still full of beans.”
I wrestled with him while his tail battered the cushions.
Dad’s voice drifted through from the kitchen.
“I’m just gonna crack on with dinner. Cheers for sorting the meat.”
Billy — the biggest lap dog I’d ever met — sprawled across me, pinning me to the sofa.
The TV hummed quietly in the background.
Between that and eighty pounds of Labrador acting as a weighted blanket, I drifted off.
I don’t know how long I slept.
Billy woke me by launching himself off my stomach.
His back legs dug into my gut before he started barking furiously at the TV.
The sudden rush of adrenaline almost made me jump out of my skin.
“Whoa, boy. What’s up?”
Billy paused just long enough to glance back at me before barking at the television again.
Police sirens.
Flashing blue lights.
I’d seen videos online of people winding their dogs up with sounds like that.
“Really, Billy? You nearly winded me for that?”
I scratched behind his ears.
“You really are a silly Billy.”
His barking didn’t stop until I picked up the remote and switched the TV off.
I checked my watch.
I’d been asleep for three hours.
My stomach growled.
“Where’s the old man then? Come on, mate. Must be dinner time.”
Billy followed me into the kitchen.
A pot simmered quietly on the hob.
Dad wasn’t there.
Just his muddy boots sitting by the back door.
I headed down the hallway.
Just as I was about to call his name, he stepped out of his bedroom.
“Alright, boy?”
“Starving, actually. Billy too.”
“You both looked comfy. Didn’t want to wake you. There’s chicken stew on the cooker. Help yourself. I’ll sort Billy out in a minute.”
He brushed past me towards the kitchen.
“You can always wake me up for food.”
“I’ll bear that in mind.” He smiled. “Fancy a beer tonight? Dunno what’s on.”
“Nothing better to do.”
Our routine was becoming almost comforting.
The only difference that night was that I drank three beers instead of Dad’s usual six.
I woke up with an itch.
Not a literal one.
I just didn’t want to fall into the same routine every day. Wake up. Coffee. Empty house. Games. Beer. Bed.
For a moment I considered joining Dad on one of his walks.
Then I remembered what his walks actually were.
Eight hours trudging around fields and Forestry Commission woodland.
No thanks.
Besides, they’d already be gone.
While I drank my morning coffee, another idea came to me.
I’d go for a drive.
Nothing special. Half an hour or so with a podcast on, just to remind myself there was still a world outside the bungalow.
The idea lasted exactly as long as it took me to turn the key in the ignition.
The engine coughed.
Spluttered.
Then died.
I frowned.
The car hadn’t moved since I’d got here. It wasn’t exactly a reliable motor, but it’d never let me down before.
I tried again.
The dashboard lights flickered weakly before everything went dead.
I checked the only things I knew to check.
Radio.
Air con.
Headlights.
There was the answer.
I’d left the bloody lights on.
At least it was something I understood.
Dead battery.
I’d watched Dad jump-start enough cars over the years to know he’d have a set of jumper cables somewhere in his boot.
First, though, I’d have to find his keys.
Knowing him, that might take longer than fixing the car.
I headed back inside and searched everywhere.
Countertops.
Drawers.
Cupboards.
Under piles of random crap.
Nothing.
I let out a sigh loud enough to wake the neighbours.
Back to the routine, I suppose.
I’m not sure whether it was boredom or instinct, but I decided to spice things up with an early beer.
I reached into the crate by the back door.
Instead of a can, my hand closed around a bundle of keys.
“No way.”
I pulled them out.
Dad’s car keys.
Part of me still fancied day drinking, but fixing my car felt like the smarter choice.
Outside, I pressed the unlock button.
A clunk came from the boot.
I lifted it open.
It was exactly how I’d expected.
Chaos.
Half-empty bottles of screen wash and AdBlue.
A huge coil of blue rope.
Random tools.
Bits of plastic.
God knows what else.
Eventually I spotted the jumper cables buried underneath it all.
I dragged them free before lining Dad’s car up with mine.
His engine fired first time.
Typical.
As I climbed out, something caught my eye.
A packet of cigarettes sat tucked into the driver’s door.
Lucky day.
I was so pleased I might’ve even said it out loud.
I only took one.
That’s all I needed.
I leaned against the car while it charged mine, smoking the first cigarette I’d had in years.
By the time it burned down to the filter, I climbed back into my own car and turned the key.
The engine hesitated.
Then roared into life.
The radio blasted out.
The headlights immediately came on.
Maybe I really had been stupid enough to leave them on since I’d arrived.
I wound the jumper cables back up and went to throw them into Dad’s boot.
That’s when I saw it.
A flash of pink beneath the pile of junk.
Curious, I tugged at it.
The clutter shifted as something much larger slid free.
A sundress.
Pink.
Covered in little flowers.
I stood there staring.
It was crumpled, torn in places and marked with stains that definitely weren’t engine oil.
I let out a quiet laugh.
“Bit of a weird rag.”
I’d definitely be asking him about that one.
For now, I shoved everything back exactly where it’d been, climbed into my own car and went for my drive.
Within half an hour I’d almost forgotten about the dress.
The podcast had taken over.
The roads were quiet.
For the first time in days, I actually felt like I’d escaped.
Time disappeared.
By the time I pulled back onto the driveway, I’d been gone nearly two hours.
Only then did I notice the fuel light glowing on the dashboard.
With petrol prices the way they were, maybe my lucky day wasn’t over after all.
I climbed out of the car.
Billy came charging across the garden.
His tail wagged so hard it nearly lifted his back legs off the ground.
Then—
“Have you moved my fucking car?”
The shout stopped me dead.
For the first time since coming back, I felt like a little kid again.
“Have you… moved… my… fu—”
He didn’t need to finish.
“Sorry, I just nee—”
“I don’t care.”
His voice cracked through me.
“You don’t touch my car without asking.”
I’d forgotten how intimidating he could be when he lost his temper.
“Twenty-something years old. You should know better.”
His expression softened just a little.
That’s when I noticed it.
Something about his face.
His lips.
I frowned.
He caught me staring.
“Are you listening to me, you fu—”
He stopped himself.
For the briefest second, I swear he almost blushed.
His eyes widened.
Like he’d suddenly realised something.
At exactly the same moment…
…so did I.
He was wearing lipstick.
My dad.
The beer-drinking, rough old bloke who’d spent my whole childhood telling me to “man up.”
I couldn’t say a word.
“Pull your head out your arse. You can cook dinner tonight. About time you made yourself useful before I start charging you rent.”
I shook myself.
“Yeah… of course. Sorry about—”
“I don’t need to hear it.”
He turned and disappeared inside.
I waited a few seconds before following.
Billy stood beside me, ears low, tail still.
Even he’d felt the tension.
I gave him a reassuring pat before heading into the house.
The rest of the evening felt like stepping backwards in time.
The house was quiet again.
Not peaceful.
Just…
quiet.
Dad barely spoke.
I’d thought about taking my dinner into my room.
Or out into the garden.
Truthfully, I felt guilty.
I’d crossed a line.
Invaded his privacy.
Maybe I deserved the telling off.
It wasn’t until we were halfway through a bowl of lamb stew that I finally thought I had a chance to apologise.
Then the news interrupted.
Another lockdown announcement.
Masks would now be mandatory.
“More woke nonsense,” Dad muttered between mouthfuls. “Whole world’s gone mad. First all this LGBT snowflake bollocks, now people can’t even leave their own houses.”
“I know what you mean.”
I didn’t.
But my opinions weren’t worth another argument.
“I should’ve taught you to be more manly. Thought you’d have turned into a proper pansy.”
“Yeah, right.”
I nearly choked on my stew.
I’d just seen the man wearing lipstick.
“Matter of fact, I’m surprised you’re not.”
Another can cracked open.
I looked over.
Six empties.
Maybe seven.
“Haven’t seen you with a woman in… Christ, I don’t even know how long.”
“Alright. I’m bored now.”
I stood up, carrying only my empty bowl.
“You should want to be more like me.”
Another swig of lager.
“I know women.”
“Sure.”
I reached for his bowl.
“Give us that.”
As I passed behind his chair, something drifted through the still air.
A smell.
Sweet.
Familiar.
I’d only smelled it once before.
Black Opium.
I froze for half a second.
Was he…
wearing perfume?
That night I lay awake, staring into the darkness.
Billy slept soundly on the floor beside the bed.
I almost envied him.
Was lockdown making me lose it?
Surely it had to be.
I was becoming one of those conspiracy nutters.
Finding clues where there weren’t any.
Connecting dots that didn’t belong together.
Making ridiculous leaps.
Eventually exhaustion won.
I don’t know what time it was when I woke again.
Couldn’t have been much later than three.
A loud mechanical whirring echoed through the house.
Billy didn’t react.
Even when I quietly climbed out of bed, he stayed asleep.
The noise was coming from the kitchen.
The washing machine.
I hadn’t heard it running once since I’d moved back.
To be honest, I hadn’t heard it much when I lived here either.
Dad wore the same clothes every day.
His “working clothes.”
Stained.
Ripped.
Ready for another day’s abuse.
I crept down the hallway.
Dad stood with his back to me at the sink.
From what I could tell, he was wearing nothing but a towel.
He scrubbed furiously beneath his fingernails, muttering to himself.
I glanced down between him and the sink.
The washing machine spun beneath the worktop.
Round and round.
For a moment I found myself hypnotised by it.
Then…
A flash of yellow.
Blue flowers.
Definitely a dress.
The machine slowed.
Stopped.
A loud beep echoed through the house.
Dad bent down to open the door.
I slipped silently back to my room before he could turn around.
Another dot.
Another clue.
Another leap.
I climbed back into bed.
The house was silent.
But inside my head, I was screaming.
What the hell was he doing?
What the hell is he hiding.
He had to be.
Maybe…
Maybe this was why Mum left.
Sleep never came back.
I lay awake until morning, listening for footsteps.
For voices.
For anything.
There was nothing.
Just Billy quietly dreaming at the foot of my bed.
I must’ve drifted off at some point because I woke up around 2 p.m. I hadn’t slept in this long in forever. Of course Billy was already gone, but I doubted he’d gone for a walk. I suppose he’d been dragged into whatever fantasy my dad was living out.
I shook my head, a sorry attempt to clear it. I plodded out of my room and into the kitchen. A coffee would help me choose my next move. Failing that, I knew my PC wasn’t far away, and that’s where I ended up.
I’d come to the conclusion that whatever he’d discovered about himself, he clearly wasn’t ready to tell me, and I shouldn’t be searching for something that might not even be there. I needed to distract myself. I’d give him my support when he was ready for it.
I’d believed myself when I said I wouldn’t be curious anymore, but I couldn’t help it.
It was the latest they’d ever come back from one of their walks when I heard Billy bounding up the driveway. I headed into the kitchen ready to greet them.
Billy came charging in, full of energy. Dad followed behind him, much slower.
“How’s it going? I was just about to crack a beer.”
I already had one open and held out to him before he even had a chance to speak. I took a big sniff as he got closer, expecting to catch the scent of Black Opium. But no. There was something there, just… different. Fruity.
“Could’ve got it myself, but thank you.” He took the beer. I think even he seemed slightly thrown off.
“Was thinking I could make dinner tonight?” I glanced quickly at his lips before they moved. No lipstick.
“Oh yeah?”
“Curry sound alright?”
“Sure. Just not too strong. I want to actually taste it.”
With that, he wandered into the living room and the familiar hum of the TV filled the house once again.
I hadn’t thought about the repercussions of actually having to make the curry, but after one YouTube video and fifty minutes of cooking, I’d managed it.
I walked into the lounge carrying two bowls. I handed one to Dad and set mine down beside my usual spot on the sofa. Billy wagged his tail and gave me that hopeful stare only dogs can manage. I headed back into the kitchen, grabbed his bowl and placed it in front of him.
“Go on then.”
I didn’t hesitate to let my best mate tuck in before sitting down with my own dinner.
The local news droned on in the background, something about schoolchildren learning from home.
“Curry ain’t bad actually.”
He sounded genuinely surprised.
“Yeah, s’alright, I suppose. Saw it on TikTok earlier and thought I’d give it a go.”
Suddenly the programme cut to breaking news.
“Police believe they have found the body of missing woman—”
I never heard her name. Billy exploded into barking at the TV. Police cars filled the screen, although the reporter’s voice drowned out any sirens.
“Shut it, you idiot,” Dad barked.
Billy answered with a defiant whine before finally going quiet.
“Don’t think he likes police,” I joked, trying to lighten the mood.
“You too.”
That killed the conversation.
I turned my attention back to the news.
The reporter explained the search had lasted eight months, but police now believed they’d finally recovered the missing woman’s body.
They said the breakthrough came after a dog walker found a dress caught in a nearby dyke. The discovery eventually led officers to a body hidden in nearby woodland.
Then they showed the dress.
It lay in a filthy heap of mud and stagnant water.
Bright yellow.
Covered in blue flowers.
I found myself wondering what had taken them so long to find it.
Dinner finished in near silence, and before long I found myself slipping back into my routine. Despite sleeping until the afternoon, I headed to bed early, almost desperate for sleep.
I think I was asleep before Billy.
The next morning I woke with a new sense of purpose, before I’d even made my coffee.
I made one anyway and wandered down into the garden. Sitting there, I looked back up towards the house, the two cars parked on the driveway.
I thought about the pink sundress I’d found in the boot.
I wondered if the yellow one would be there now too.
I wondered where he kept the lipstick.
What else he was hiding.
I took a sip of coffee. The bitterness did little to sober my thoughts.
Did I really believe he was living this secret life?
Maybe I was wrong.
Maybe it really had just been an old rag.
I put my mug down and headed back inside.
The beer crate was empty of keys.
I searched the kitchen until I spotted something glinting beneath a tea towel.
His keys.
I grabbed them and headed outside.
The boot popped open.
It was surprisingly tidy.
A bottle of AdBlue. A fuel can. Jumper cables bundled neatly.
But no dress.
Where was it?
Maybe I really was going mad.
No.
Enough was enough.
As soon as he got back, I was going to ask him what the hell was going on.