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Until him.
Until he looked at me and opened a yearning I was ill-equipped to dispel.
2.
Maggie
The following day, my alarm went off at six-thirty. I quickly turned off the beeping and grabbed my things to take a shower. By eight, I was at the bus stop waiting in my coat, hat and woolly scarf. It was a chilly but bright morning, a little bit windy. There were a few other people there, but he hadn’t arrived yet, and my heart sank a little.
After yesterday, I was eager to see him, to find some sign he’d stood close to me on purpose, some sign he’d stared at me for that prolonged moment before boarding the bus because he was curious about me, just as I was curious about him.
I was tracing the lines in the pavement when I sensed a change in the atmosphere. A scuffed boot entered my field of vision. Him. I cast my gaze up and towards the direction the bus would be coming, trying to avoid the fact he was standing right next to me. I was too nervous to look at or acknowledge him; however, I was aware of how his boot almost kissed the side of my shoe. His tall frame felt like a shield, blocking the cold wind.
A bundle of barely restrained energy sat low in my belly. It only took another minute or two for the bus to arrive, but it felt like an eternity.
I sat in my usual seat, and he sat in his, though I sensed an extra layer of tension between us. Perhaps it was all my imagination. My brain had turned him into a silent friend because I was so starved for companionship. Sometimes, I’d imagine what he might say to me if we ever had a conversation. Would he ask me my name? Comment on the weather? Perhaps question what it was that upset me yesterday?
A part of me wanted him to talk to me, but the other part was apprehensive, mainly because I found friendship tough. Siobhan was probably the person I was closest to, and that was because one night we’d stayed up late talking. She told me about her son who’d died as an infant, and I’d told her all about my mother. I tended to avoid making new friends because, sooner or later, I’d have to tell them about myself, my family, my childhood, and I was too scared they’d no longer want to be around me once they knew the truth.
Thankfully, Siobhan was old and wise enough to accept me, despite my past. I found with some people, once they discovered you were homeless at any point in your life, you became tarnished in their eyes. Like you’d brought it upon yourself somehow.
But him, well, he was someone I saw each day, and I could take solace in his nearness without there ever being any incentive for us to talk. In a way, it was the perfect friendship. We could orbit around one another, share an occasional glance and for a brief time feel like we weren’t completely alone. We never had to get close enough for rejection to become a possibility.
The trip to work that morning was uneventful. We arrived at our stop and alighted, each going our separate ways. I often wondered where he worked, but there were lots of businesses around—restaurants and shops and hotels. It was too tough to make a guess.
Mild rays of autumn sun shone through the trees that had turned brown and red and gold as I made the short walk to work. My shoes crunched on some of the fallen leaves, and I inhaled the fresh morning air. Today, I was cleaning for Mr Luttrell and Mr Cole, an older couple who lived around the corner from Mrs Reynolds. It was a much smaller house, but I enjoyed working for them because they were kind and respectful, and they never acted like they were better than me, not like Mrs Reynolds.
Mr Luttrell had made his money in publishing, while Mr Cole was a highly acclaimed artist whose paintings regularly sold for hefty sums.
I grabbed the spare key from its hiding spot under one of the many potted plants by their front door and let myself in, smiling when I was greeted by the enthusiastic bark of their Labradoodle, Noddy. He was the friendliest dog I’d ever met, always happy to receive guests. Other houses I’d worked in over the years had dogs that simply barked and growled at me the entire time. But not Noddy.
I’d always wanted a dog of my own, but my landlord had a strict No Pets rule. Siobhan tended to agree with him, citing she’d spent enough years raising kids back when her husband was still alive, and she didn’t need any dog babies hanging around needing to be cared for. I’d told her the dog would stay in my flat and wouldn’t be a bother to her, but she’d countered with the fact I worked all day, and it was only a matter of time before the dog came scratching at her door, laying its sad brown eyes on her and making her fall in love with it.
