Roseanna
He reads it for a third and fourth time before he dials the number, hesitating before the final digit. A woman answers straight away, as though she’s been waiting for the call.
“Hallo?”
Soft breathing down the line. He clutches the receiver tighter.
“Is anyone there?”
She knows there is.
“Are you going to speak to me, dear?”
He hesitates.
“I want to talk. Like it says on the postcard.”
“No harm in talking, is there?”
Is there?
“What is it you want to talk about?”
“Nothing much… you know, the usual stuff.”
He leans his head against the glass, peering across the street at a car moving slowly round the corner before accelerating down the road. He wishes he’d never started this.
“I’m sorry… . I made a mistake… I can’t…”
“Don’t go, dear – tell me what’s on your mind. We all need someone to talk to, don’t we?”
“Uh-huh.”
“You can say whatever you like. There’s nothing I haven’t heard before. And afterwards, you’ll feel so much better.”
He glances across the road again, at the parcel of chips stuffed behind the drainpipe. His ear is pressed so hard to the phone, it throbs.
“Or you could come and see me.”
“See you?”
“Just for a cosy chat. We’ll get along really well, I can tell. How about five o’clock on Thursday?”
“I work until five.”
“Let’s make it six, then.”
Before he can think or stop himself, he whispers into the mouthpiece.
“Okay.”
“It’s a date, then. You won’t regret it, I promise.”
“I have to go now. My landlady…”
“Hold on! You don’t know how to get here. Where will you be coming from?”
“Beech Brothers. It’s on…”
“I know where it is.”
She tells him to take the 121 Circular thirteen stops on from Beech Brothers, then turn into a little square. He writes the directions on the back of his hand.
“This is your first time, isn’t it?”
“Uh-huh.”
“Don’t worry, you’ll be fine. Like I said, we’ll get along really well. I’ll see you on Thursday, then. Six o’clock.”
“But what’s your name? Who should I ask for?”
“Roseanna.”
A click as she hangs up, and then the buzzing of the phone in his head that should stop when he puts it down, but doesn’t. He opens the phonebox door and walks up the road in the yellow light.
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