replied in her sweetest of voices.
He’d extended his hand once again, eyes narrowed. ‘Call me Adrian, I insist.’
Amelia had almost reached the top of the stairs and she shuddered, recalling the events that had taken place that afternoon.
She turned to face another door leading to the second floor of flats, and pushed it half-heartedly, the hinges squeaking.
The once brightly painted wood, now a grimy shade of brown, had been vandalised again. The frosted glass window had been smashed for the second time in two weeks and there was additional coloured graffiti climbing the length of the door frame.
Amelia wandered further along the corridor, hearing a dog bark from behind the door of flat fifteen, not unlike any other day, but it made her jump nonetheless.
Although keeping animals in the flats was prohibited, she knew that tenant had probably struck a deal with Adrian to keep him sweet.
Besides, considering what she’d seen, no one with any common sense would confront the tenant about the noise level from the dog. Most people draw the line at suicide.
After walking past a few more doors, Amelia rested her head against her own, not wanting to enter. After a few moments of staring at the heavily soiled brown carpet beneath her feet, she forced her key into the lock and quickly turned it.
She pushed the door open and kicked off her shoes before dumping her bag down on the kitchen table. She pulled a chair out from under the table, went to the fridge, retrieved a bottle of wine and poured herself a glass, before returning to the table and taking a seat. She took a long drink from the large glass and stared around at her tiny living area.
The walls were painted a neutral colour throughout the flat, with plain light-coloured carpets. She had a small red two-seat sofa in the corner facing a small portable television set. Her battered coffee table had seen better days, but it’d been a bargain purchase from a charity shop in the centre of town.
Her thoughts were broken by the thudding of a stereo above her head, which seemed to shake the ceiling to a continuous beat.
Sighing, she opened her bag, her breathing suddenly rapid as she zipped apart the soft leather. She found the blister pack of small white pills, popped one out and swallowed it dry.
The stereo above her head pounded harder and Amelia checked her watch. Soon she would welcome the distraction of the music above; it would give her something to focus on and forget where she was and what she was doing.
During her life, Amelia had learnt how to detach herself from her body and imagine she was somewhere else.
Today would be no different.
Glancing at her watch again, she headed towards the bedroom. She began to remove her clothes, folded them neatly and placed them on the cream-coloured duvet in front of her. She drew the dark-red curtains, blocking most of the light from the room, which now cast black-red shadows across her face.
She hoped it would be in the dark this time, and then she wouldn’t have to keep her eyes open and pretend she wanted to be there.
As was routine, she pulled back the duvet and slid between the sheets. She shivered at the coolness of the fabric against her skin. As the bed began to warm with the heat of her body, it offered little comfort while she waited.
Then she heard a key turn in the front door.
The hinges whined as the door swung open then closed softly. She heard shoes being removed and slung carelessly, thudding on the floor. She heard the heavy footsteps approaching the bedroom door, hesitating before the door was pushed open.
A shaft of light broke the shadows in the room and she closed her eyes tight, pretending to be asleep. The door shut and someone moved closer to the bed and Amelia tried to sneak a look beneath her thick eyelashes.
She saw a tall shadow move around the foot of the bed and peek through the curtains.
He is so afraid of being caught…and I wish he would be.
The figure at the curtain pulled the material shut and then wandered back around the bed towards the light switch.
Amelia winced at the sudden break in the darkness, her eyes trying to adjust as she slowly opened them, seeing him looking at her.
‘I told you I want the lights on. That was the agreement,’ said Adrian.
‘Your agreement. Not mine,’ she spat as she rolled over to face towards the window.
Adrian smiled as he removed his navy suit jacket, placing it over the back of a chair. He unbuttoned his light-blue shirt.
Amelia glanced over her shoulder towards him. She could tell he’d recently visited the tanning salon, judging by his golden tan. His hair looked freshly styled too, glued into place with expensive hair gel. His fingernails were also well groomed and his fingers set off with expensive rings.
Amelia hated what money could do to people. She hated the way Adrian paraded himself around with his expensive suits and fast cars. She hated the way he could talk his way into people’s heads and convince them to part with vast amounts of money for a new home. He would even take extra money from people and keep it for himself, despite his high pay grade and commission perks. She hated this and she hated him.
Her thoughts were broken when she saw him remove his underwear, and then approach the bed.
‘I haven’t got long today. I have a viewing to do at three,’ he whispered as his hand clasped her shoulder.
Amelia lay back and detached herself from the moment.
Robotically she spent the next twenty minutes making the right moves and noises in the right places before he finished, dressed, then left as quickly as he’d arrived.
***
After Amelia had scrubbed herself so hard her skin almost bled, she had towelled off and sat on the bed staring at her phone in one hand and Adrian’s business card in the other.
After she’d put in a call to Adrian’s office and hung up, she drafted a text message to send to the name listed only as ‘G’ in the contacts list.
Made the call. Will let you know when it’s done… A
She hit send.
Amelia knew the plan set for her and knew she’d have no trouble executing it to its full exquisite potential. She only hoped that when it came down to it, she had enough self-control not to cut too deep.
The light from the sun beating down on her head flashed across the black plastic of her sunglasses as she tilted her head towards the sky.
Drawing the last pull on the cigarette pinched tightly between her fingers, Claire exhaled a stream of smoke from between parched lips, and felt as if her very being was becoming more withered with each step she took.
She glanced down at
