Read Every Touch Online

Authors: Nerika Parke

Every Touch (10 page)

   “Laila,” the blonde’s voice called from the living room, “they want to know where you want everything to go.”

   She opened her eyes and shook her head, the sadness leaving her face as quickly as it had arrived.  She turned and walked back inside. 

   “Coming, Kelly,” she said loudly, walking past Denny back to the other room.

   He stood still for a few seconds. 

   “What on earth was that?” he said to himself. 

   What had he just felt?  It was unlike anything he’d ever experienced before and had momentarily floored him.  He drew in a deep breath and looked toward the open door to the living room. 

   “Laila,” he said, feeling her name roll on his tongue.  “What a beautiful name.” 

   He stayed around to watch as Laila’s things were unloaded and brought up from the removal truck.  She didn’t seem to have much, just a few small items of furniture and a TV to add to the furniture already in the flat, and three small boxes of personal belongings and a couple of suitcases of clothes.  He’d seen homeless people with less stuff.

  He continued to hang around for the rest of the day as Laila and her sister Kelly moved furniture and unpacked everything.  He liked the sisters.  They were entertaining to listen to, their banter often making him laugh.  But he especially liked Laila.  She was bright and funny.  Just his type, beautiful, intelligent, fun.  Denny was torn.  He knew he was going to love being around her, but he also knew it was going to be a special kind of torture knowing he would never even be able to talk to her. 

   There were times when he hated being dead even more than usual.

   “I’ll have to go shopping for some things tomorrow,” Laila remarked as she peered into an empty cupboard in the kitchen.

   Kelly smiled.  “Wait right there,” she said, heading out the door.

   Laila shrugged and began checking all the cupboards.  Denny leaned casually against the counter next to her.

   “So,” he said, “come here often?”

   She reached up to run her hand over the top shelf of the wall cupboard behind him and Denny suddenly found himself almost face to face with her bust.  He held his breath until she backed away.

   “If I wasn’t already dead,” he said, gasping for oxygen, “this would kill me.”

   As if to press the point, she bent over in front of him to peer into another cupboard, giving him a perfect close-up view of her perfect ass.  He whimpered, turning and walking to a safer distance, then slumping against a wall and wiping his hand across his face, smiling ruefully.

   “I am so screwed,” he said.

   A few minutes later Kelly returned, struggling to carry a large cardboard box with a plastic gift bow stuck on the top.  Laila immediately ran to help her, taking one side and carrying the box with her sister to the kitchen counter.

   “What’s this?” she said, peeling off the tape holding it closed.

   “Your housewarming gift,” Kelly smiled, “to get you started in your wonderful new life.”

   Laila peeked inside and gasped.  She proceeded to pull out a boxed set of saucepans, a set of cutlery and other assorted kitchen items.  Finally, she took out a single plate, bowl and mug.

   “There are more of those, but I couldn’t fit them in the car without you seeing,” Kelly said.  “I’ll bring them over tomorrow.”

   Laila was staring at everything, her hand covering her mouth.  She looked at her sister, eyes glistening with tears. 

   Denny felt like his heart was being squeezed.

   “Oh, Laila,” Kelly said, wrapping her arms around her.

   “Thank you,” Laila whispered, hugging her sister, “for everything.  For everything you’ve done.  I wouldn’t have made it without you.”

   “Yes, you would,” Kelly said.  She pulled her head back to look at Laila.  “You are much stronger than you give yourself credit for.  You know that?”

   Laila looked down and shrugged and Denny wiped a tear from his eye, clearing his throat.  Where had that come from?  He was glad no-one could see his embarrassingly emotional reaction.

   Kelly was looking at her watch.  “Oh, damn, I have to get going or I’m going to be late for my shift.  Are you sure you’re going to be okay?”

   “Yes, go.  I’m fine.

   “What are you going to eat?” Kelly asked her, looking worried.

   “I’ll go shopping tomorrow,” Laila replied, “and I’ll just find somewhere to get a take-away for tonight.”

   “There’s a pizza place down the road,” Denny said.

   “I saw a pizza place down the road,” Laila said, making him smile.

   “I don’t like leaving you like this,” Kelly said, still looking concerned.

   “Leaving me like what?  I’m fine, I’m a big girl.  I can feed myself.  Stop being such a big sister and go.”

   “Okay, but if you need anything at all, call me.”

   “I will.  Go. Now.  Before I have to throw you out.” 

   “Yeah, I’d like to see you try,” Kelly said, walking to the door.

   “Any time,” she said, sounding tough, but ruining the effect with her smile.

   Kelly laughed as she left.  Laila watched her go then closed the door and locked it, sliding the security chain into place.  Turning around, she leaned back against the door for a few seconds, her eyes closed.  Then she walked slowly through to the bedroom and out onto the balcony with Denny following.  She waited for her sister, waving when Kelly appeared and then watching her car pull out of the car park and drive away. 

   When it was out of sight she walked back inside, closed and locked the balcony doors, and burst into tears.

   Denny gasped and rushed to her side.

  “No!” he said frantically. “What’s wrong?  Why are you crying?  Please don’t cry.” 

   He ducked his head, trying to see into her face which she had covered with her hands.  Sobs shook her body.  He reached out his hands to her, bringing them as close as he could get without touching her. 

   “Don’t cry,” he repeated. 

   She walked to the bed and fell onto it, curling up on her side and continuing to sob. 

   Denny had never felt so helpless in his life.  Or his death.  The sound of her distress tore at his heart.  He would have done anything to make her feel better, but he had no idea what he
could
do. 

   He looked around the room, for what he didn’t know.  He walked towards the living room, but another sob brought him rushing back to Laila on the bed.  Eventually, he sat on the floor in front of her, his knees pulled up to his chest, just watching her.  Her hand was resting on the edge of the bed next to him and he passed his own hand into it, leaving it there so they were together.  Hoping that, somehow, she would know she wasn’t alone.

  And that’s where he stayed, until she stopped crying and, after a while, fell asleep. 

   The sun went down. The bedroom slowly darkened until the only light was from the streetlamps far below and the moon just peeking over the rooftops of the building on the other side of the road. Still Denny stayed sitting by the bed.  He would normally have been going to see if Oliver was around or checking on his favourite families in the building, seeing if anyone was watching anything on TV he wanted to see, but he couldn’t leave Laila’s side.  What if she woke up and started crying again? 

   On an intellectual level, he knew it wouldn’t make any difference to her if he was there or not.  He knew he could go any time he wanted, without any guilt or fear of his absence causing her any distress.  Yet he didn’t move.  He may as well have been glued to the floor by the bed.  Just watching her.  He had no idea why he felt this way about a woman he’d just met, but he simply couldn’t leave. 

   So he stayed and watched her unfeasibly beautiful face, with her eyes swollen from crying and her nose red, waiting for her to wake. 

 

 

***

 

 

The chorus of “It’s Raining Men” jolted Denny awake.  His eyes snapped open. 

   He was still sitting on the floor next to his bed, his head leaning on his arm on the mattress.  The soft groan of a woman’s voice brought him instantly to full wakefulness.  He lifted his head to see Laila rolling onto her back and grimacing, pressing a hand to her face.  She reached out blindly to where her phone was cheerfully vibrating across the surface of the bedside cabinet as it blared out her ringtone, feeling around for the offending gadget.  Smiling, Denny placed a finger next to the phone and nudged it into the path of her roaming hand where she grasped it and brought it to her ear.

   “Hello?...  Yes, Kelly, I’m fine...  no, I’ve been finishing off unpacking and rearranging things to where I want them....  of course I’ve eaten...  pizza...  pepperoni and mushroom...  stop worrying, I’m fine...  yes, I’m working tomorrow, but you can come round later...  okay, I’ll see you then... bye, Kel.”

   She dropped the arm holding her phone back onto the bed beside her, sighed loudly and sat up.  Denny moved out of the way as she swung her legs off the side of the bed towards him and stood up then put a hand to her stomach as it rumbled audibly.

   “Maybe I should eat,” she said to herself.

   “Yes, you should,” Denny said, getting to his feet beside her, “you’ll feel better if you eat.”  He smiled, thinking how much like his mother he sounded.

   Laila pulled the curtains closed across the balcony doors and walked to the living room.  Picking up her coat which she had left draped over a chair, she pulled it on, walked to the front door and stopped.  Denny frowned next to her.  She had reached her hand out to the handle, but she wasn’t touching it and he noticed a slight tremor as it hung in mid-air.  For a few seconds, she simply stood staring at the door, then she dropped her hand and closed her eyes.

   “No,” she said, “I’m a grown woman.  I can do this.”

   Opening her eyes, she raised her hand again and this time grasped the handle, but froze.  Letting go, she turned around and leaned back against the door.

   “Damn it,” she said.

   She took her coat off and hung it on a hook by the door, then dug her phone from her pocket.  After ordering the pizza to be delivered the few hundred yards to her flat, she went back into the bedroom with Denny on her heels. 

   He was worried about her.  She was obviously scared, so scared she couldn’t leave the flat to get a pizza.  He wished her sister had been able to stay with her.  Maybe it was just the unfamiliar surroundings that had her so nervous and upset.  Although he didn’t get the feeling her inability to go out had been a surprise to her.  He wished he could do something to help.

   She walked to the wardrobe and opened it and his eyes widened as she began to unbutton her jeans.  For a few seconds he watched, rooted to the spot as she bent to push them down her long legs.  Suddenly feeling guilty, he forced himself to turn away and walked very quickly back into the living room, sitting on a chair and taking some deep cleansing breaths.

 

 

 

Eleven

 

 

Laila changed into her comfortable but definitely not for wearing out in public clothes, leggings and a baggy jumper, pushed her feet into her pink fluffy slippers and wandered back through to the living room.  She looked around at her new flat.  It was nice.  She liked the feel of it.  Something about it made her feel comfortable and peaceful.  More peaceful than she had felt in a long time.  Since before Gary.

   There was the crying, yes, but that hadn’t been a surprise.  It wasn’t like she never cried nowadays.  And getting her own flat was a big step for her.

   Moving out of Kelly’s house had been tough on her.  She knew she had been far too reliant on her sister for the past four months and that she needed to be on her own, rebuild her own life, but it was hard.  She was scared and it made her angry.  She had never been the most adventurous of people, preferring to live a quiet life with her friends and her family and her job in the library, but she had never been scared.  Until she’d fallen for Gary.  Now doing anything new felt like she was pushing against a brick wall.  She didn’t know if she would ever regain her self-confidence.  And that scared her most of all.

   The intercom buzzed and she walked over to it, studying it for a few seconds before picking up the handset and pressing one of the buttons.

   “Hello?”

   “Your hot, delicious,” there was a pause, “pepperoni and mushroom Mountain’s pizza is here,” a bored sounding man’s voice said.

   She smiled at the words that were obviously meant to drum up enthusiasm delivered with such total apathy.

  “I’ll be right down.”

   Grabbing her purse and keys, she left the flat and went down to the lobby in the lift.  A young man was standing outside the glass entrance door, illuminated by the lights of the building.  He was dressed in jeans with a blue and green top and baseball cap, both bearing the words ‘Mountain’s Pizza’ emblazoned in red. He was holding a pizza box.

   Obviously a pizza delivery guy, she told herself.  Obviously.

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