Locked In Love Read online

  I pick up the phone and call Claire.

  Claire picks up after the third ring and I have never been so relieved to hear a familiar voice.

  “Claire, I’ve done something really stupid.” I don’t even bother with the pleasantries. I really need her help.

  “Jess what’s up? Are you OK?” I could hear the panic building in Claire’s voice and feel guilty for making her worry.

  “I’m fine.”

  “Oh thank goodness, please don’t ever scare me like that again,” I hear her sigh with relief down the line.

  “I’m sorry, it’s just I really need your help,” I blurt out.

  “Jess, you’re scaring me. Just tell me what it is.”

  “I may have a thing for the new delivery guy and I may of, kind of, definitely, left him a note when he picked up his machine.” Saying it out loud doesn’t make me feel any better. In fact, now I am thinking about it with a more rational head on, I realise how completely stupid I have just been. I mean I don’t even know the guy and I’m sending him notes as if we are still at school.

  “What do you mean? How did you… how did you meet him?”

  “That’s the thing. I kind of haven’t.” There is a long pause on the end of the line and I know Claire is wondering how to process what I have just said. Saying it out loud just makes it seem even stupider.

  “So how…” I can tell Claire is really struggling here so I jump in and fill her in on everything that has happened over the last few days.

  “Which leads me to now and the note I left him,” I conclude.

  “So, what did the note say?” Her interest is evident down the line.

  “It said he was a great distraction who brightens up my day.” The line goes completely silent to a point that I wonder if Claire is actually still on the end of the line. “Claire?”

  “Sorry I was just… Wow, and he never replied or said a word back?”

  “Nope, he just left.” Even I can hear my disappointment.

  “Wow Jess, just… Wow! I mean, are you sure he got the message? Have you checked, maybe he didn’t see it or it blew away or…”

  “I left it right on top of the machine.”

  “Oh Jess, I really don’t know what to say. I mean good on you for doing it, but don’t you think you might want to know what the guy looks like before you start flirting with him?” I can hear the humour in Claire’s voice and know I have now lost any chance of a reasonable discussion we may have had on this subject. I place my head in my hands and just mumble down the line.

  “Well I have to say Jess there is nothing like putting yourself out there. Who will it be next? The postman? Oh, I know, the pizza delivery boy!”

  “I’m so glad you find this humorous Claire. How am I going to be able to face him again?”

  “I’ll ignore the obvious error in that statement and just say that I’m not laughing at you, I’m laughing with you. Come on Jess, you have to see the funny side of this. You are flirting with a voice. The guy could be really ugly.”

  “Oh, trust me Claire. A man with those arms and a bum like that is definitely not ugly.”

  “I love you Jess,” she says suddenly. I can hear sadness in Claire’s voice and I’m not totally sure why.

  “I love you too Claire. But what’s up?”

  “It’s nothing,” she says but then lets out a small muffled sob.

  “Claire please?”

  “It’s just you… you almost sound like your old self. I never realised till now how much I’ve missed you.” These words bring me to my knees and before I know it we are both sobbing down the line to each other.

  “Thanks Claire,” I finally manage to say once we are all cried out.

  “What. I didn’t do anything.”

  “You’re just you and that’s all I need right now,” I say knowing this to be the truth and smiling through my sadness.

  “Don’t be silly. What are best friends for?” I can hear that she has perked up and can almost imagine her doing one of those shoulder punches.

  “Not all the rubbish I put you through, that’s for sure!”

  “Don’t worry, you can return the favour when I need therapy for all my disastrous relationships. I won’t even need to pay as you’ll be my very own expert with the amount of therapy you’ve had,” she laughs down the line.

  “Hey!” I say, but I’m not really offended since we are both now giggling together. That’s what I love about Claire. We can be crying together one minute and the next making fun of each other. She has always been my rock even before I got sick and I really don’t know where I would be right now without her. Well, I do, but we won’t go back to that dark place. We finish up our conversation and hang up on each other after I promise to update her as soon as I have any information, even though I do try to convince her that it’s not going to happen as I have probably scared the poor bloke off.

  I potter around the flat for the next hour or so, putting the shopping away and then settle in front of the window to people watch. It’s not long before I start getting hungry, so I go into the kitchen to make a sandwich and a cup of tea. Wandering through the living room ready to go back to my window seat, my attention is drawn to a small folded piece of paper lying on the floor next to the front door. Staring over at it for what seems like forever I go and pick it up and must go through every emotion there is in that short distance. Fear, as I wonder what it could say, excitement, as I near it and hope, that I haven’t totally messed this up and then back to fear that I have. I turning it over in my hands several times looking for a clue as to who it can be from. I hadn’t let anyone in and I didn’t really know any of the neighbours. Walking over to the sofa I settle down, my sandwich and cup of tea now forgotten, as I carefully unfold the note. It doesn’t take long for me to recognise the familiar writing and break out in a cold sweat as I clutch it to my chest.

  Before reading it I rush over to the window. I’m not really sure why, but I find myself hoping I might be able to catch a glimpse of my mysterious note writer. I am out of luck though as there is no one there. Turning around I stop dead, staring at the note which is now sitting on the sofa. I find myself questioning if I really want to know what’s been written on it. Making my way slowly over to the note I lift it up and start to read.

  I hope I’m a good distraction. I know you are for me.

  I’m glad I could help brighten your day. Every day is bright when

  I get to come and hear your voice.

  Sorry I didn’t leave this earlier but I was running late.

  Steve

  My body reacts in ways it only ever does when I hear from Steve. I feel a hot sensation coursing through my body as it is awakened to so many new possibilities and wants.

  The smile on my face is unbelievable. I don’t think I have ever smiled this much in, well, ever. I distract him. Does that mean something? It has to, doesn’t it? I’m even more confused now than I was before, but as the heat dissipates I know I cannot wait to get my delivery on Friday.

  Friday 26th May

  Friday can’t come soon enough, but I’m in a great mood for the rest of the week. Even my therapist notices. She asks what’s happened for this change in my mood, but I’m not about to start filling my therapist in on what’s been going on with Steve. It’s just too new and far too private. Is it wrong to want this to exist in my own happy little bubble for a little while longer? I know I will have to share eventually, but I want it to stay fresh, new and exciting before it starts to get analysed.

  Friday morning is dragging so much. I have already tidied the living room and the kitchen ready for the delivery. I’m seriously pondering starting on the bathroom but, thankfully, I am saved by the buzzer on the intercom. Looking down at myself I make sure I am presentable and laugh, realising that it’s not as if Steve is going to see me. I can’t answer the door if I even think he might be on the other side. I make my way over to the intercom and have several practice attempts at sounding normal when I say hello.
I just about have it mastered as the intercom sounds again.

  I attempt to say “Hello.” Well that didn’t work did it? A high-pitched squeak leaves my mouth.

  “Hi Jessica, it’s Steve. I hope you don’t mind, but I’m a little early with your delivery today.”

  I compose myself and reply. “No, not at all. Just give me a sec and I’ll buzz you up.” I want to say so much more to him but find myself unable to say what I am feeling out loud. For one thing, the words would never leave my mouth, and two, I really don’t think my filthy thoughts could be broadcast over the intercom. Instead I find myself reaching for my pad and paper as I scribble a note and leave it outside the door before I buzz him up with my order.

  I wait anxiously near the door, too afraid to get too close for fear of him sensing me. I didn’t realise I had been holding my breath until I let it out once a small piece of paper falls to the floor. I think back to what my message said and wonder how he could have responded. I wrote that he was the best type of distraction and questioned how I could make his day brighter.

  I unfold the piece of paper and eagerly read the message inside.

  You make the days seem brighter by just being you. But now the nights seem so much longer.

  I read the note over and over again, a little confused by its meaning. Waiting till I hear the elevator, I peek through the peep hole to double check he has gone. As much as I would really, really love to see what Steve looks like, I know I am not strong enough to be able to do that just yet. The coast is clear so I bring the shopping in and then get ready to sign the machine. As I’m about to sign it, I find myself grabbing the note pad once more and writing back a reply.

  How can I possibly make the nights longer? I’m sure that can’t be good?

  I leave the note and the receipt outside the door before I go over to the intercom.

  “All done,” I say, far too brightly to appear normal.

  “I’ll come on up and collect the machine then,” he replies equally breezily.

  Not wanting to lose the calming tones of his voice I say the first thing that comes into my head.

  “I love the sound of your voice,” comes out of my mouth and as I say it my hand connects with my forehead. How stupid I must sound to him!

  He chuckles on the other end of the intercom. That chuckle has me clenching my legs together as I close my eyes and commit to memory every sound he makes to use later when I am on my own. I press the buzzer to let him in and then move over to the door hoping that something may be posted through. I hear the elevator arrive and the sound of heavy feet moving to the door. There is a pause, then a sudden knock on the door. I freeze in terror, not being prepared for this at all. I begin to feel my heart rate quicken and the shakes start, but then I hear it … the voice that seems to calm me.

  “Don’t open the door. I just wanted to say that I feel the same. Your voice is like a melody that speaks straight to my soul.” My heart skips a beat as I replay in my head what he has just said. I have no words but instantly, I am calmer. I move towards the door and look through the peep hole, but he has gone already. I rush over to the window but again, I am too late. It’s then as I turn back that I notice the small piece of paper on the floor. I hadn’t even heard the letter box. I rush over to grab it, eager to read the words that I was quickly becoming addicted to.

  You would never believe me if I told you.

  Just know that I spend far more time than I should thinking about my

  mysterious stranger.

  Till your next delivery.

  Steve

  I read the note twice more before I do the only thing I ever do when a situation arises that makes me feel out of my depth. I phone Claire.

  Running over to the phone I dial Claire’s number, not realising how many times it rings before I finally get to hear the one person I share everything with.

  “Claire, you will not believe what just happened,” I almost scream down the phone at her, far more excited about this new development than I should be.

  “Hi Jess, what’s happened?” Something sounds off, but I can’t quite put my finger on it. She sounds odd.

  “You will not believe what just happened. Steve, he likes me, I think,” I say excitedly.

  “That’s great Jess,” she replies in a monotone voice. OK, now I know something is wrong. This isn’t like Claire at all.

  “Is everything OK? You don’t seem yourself today,” I ask, beginning to worry about what could be wrong.

  “It’s fine, I just have a headache. Can we do this later? I am happy for you though, hun.”

  “Yeah, sure.” We hang up and even though she has told me nothing is wrong, I am left with an uneasy feeling that there is something she isn’t telling me. I ponder this for a moment and put it down to my anxiety. I’m sure it’s all fine. This is Claire after all.

  I try to keep myself occupied for the rest of the day, but I keep going back over to the notes to read them all over again. Each time I read them I imagine his voice and try to picture him in my mind. Filled with excitement I come up with my next plan of action. I take out my tablet and pull up the shopping app. It’s not as if I actually need anything, since my order has just come, but there has to be something. It’s as the app loads up that inspiration lights up on my screen and an offer on baking goods appears. Well that’s settled then. I am going to take up baking!

  Not being able get a delivery slot for a couple of days doesn’t deter me. I just hope Steve will be working and plan to call and check since I don’t want to see anyone else. Not now and maybe not ever!

  Sunday 28th May

  It’s been two days since I placed my order for my ‘new hobby’ and as the time for my delivery approaches, I find myself glued to my window seat awaiting the arrival of my delivery man. Taking a look at my watch I realise that there’s still a while to go before he is due, so I start to plan what to say to him. I ponder making myself a cup of tea while I wait, but realise since I already feel like I need the toilet that probably isn’t the best idea. There is no way I plan on missing what he looks like today. I check my watch again and feel disappointed when I discover only a couple of minutes have passed. I decide not to be silly and make my way to the bathroom. Taking my time washing my hands, I wander back to my window seat, checking my watch again. Really? Only another five minutes? This is the longest half hour of my life and that’s seriously saying something when you have been confined to four walls for the last year. I sit and people watch and get lost in my imagination until I hear the ringing of my phone. Looking at my watch I realise my delivery is due any minute and seriously consider just letting it ring. By the sixth or seventh ring I begin to panic. What if it’s something important? What if… I don’t finish that thought as I rush over to the phone and grab it before it rings again.

  “Hello.”

  “Hello, is that Miss Wentworth?”

  “Yes. How can I help?” Please don’t be a sales call I think to myself

  “We are just ringing to inform you that your delivery driver is running a little late today so won’t be with you till about four,” the friendly voice tells me down the line.

  “Oh, OK.” It’s hard to hide my disappointment as I thank the person on the phone and hang up. Great, so now I have another hour to kill. I guess I’ll make a start on my washing pile.

  With the washing on, I decide to do something I haven’t done in a while. Taking out my Kindle I start to read. I used to love romances before this all happened, but it’s hard to get into them when you don’t believe a ‘happy ever after’ will ever happen to you. I look through the online store and settle on a new book by one of my favourite authors and quickly find myself getting lost in the pages. So lost that I completely lose track of time and the next thing I hear is my intercom buzzing, pulling me back into the here and now. I quickly look at my watch and realise it’s just a little after four. I rush over to the intercom and then take a minute to compose myself. I’m not so sure it helps as when I an
swer I sound out of breath.

  “Hello.”

  “Hello Jessica.” Oh, wow, just two words and I’m already captivated.

  “Hi Steve. I’ve taken up baking!” I plant my head firmly in my hands as I shake it. Really, why am I incapable of saying something normal when I am around him? I’m acting like a giddy teenager. I know I’m out of practice, but really?

  “That’s nice,” I hear through a chuckle, “Shall I bring it up?”

  “I’ll buzz you in.” I’ve given up on trying to sound cute, or funny or even sexy. Just normal is hard for me right now, so I decide to go with that. It’s then I remember the note I wrote in response to his the other day and quickly rush to the door, throwing it outside before darting back in to the house before I can even think of panicking about having the door open.

  I’m intrigued to know what you’re thinking.

  I’m not sure I’m worth wasting your thoughts on though.

  Just as the door closes behind me I hear the elevator door open and breathe a huge sigh of relief. There is no way I can face seeing him yet. Just writing the note and not throwing it away had taken all of my willpower and breathing techniques. I hear the footsteps making their way to the door and the box being placed outside. I even hear the crinkle of the paper before I hear the footsteps disappear back down the hall. I wait for the familiar sound of the elevator doors closing before I make my way over to the door and peek through the peep hole to ensure the coast is clear. When I see that the hallway is empty I open the door to find my box of baking goods and a small piece of paper folded up on top of it. A fluttering starts in my stomach as I take the goods and the note into the house. I unfold the note, totally forgetting the shopping on the floor and begin to read.

  You seem a little distracted today.

  I hope it’s not a bad distraction.

  Oh, maybe it’s me.

  The first thing I notice are the two kisses. This has got to be good, right? I read over the note again and decide it is good. As I am writing a reply, the intercom buzzes once more. I pick up the phone and listen to the other end.