My Pleasure, Darling

20: With a Headline and a Photograph

When I return downstairs the next morning, I am better. Not entirely recovered. I don't think I'll ever recover. But better. My mind is clear. My skin is still red from the scrubbing, but I'd rather be red and sore than still feel like they are touching me.

I need to apologise to everybody. I'm sure they were worried. I was supposed to be out for fifteen minutes, tops, to get snacks. I was gone for hours. I reckon Felix feared he was going to be left alone in the responsibility for Alexandria. They all deserve an apology.

It's late morning, when I'm up. The breakfast has been cleared from the dining room table, and it's desolate. But there's voices from the living room, separated from dining by a single door. Felix is there, with Alexandria. She jumps up from where she sits at his feet and throws her arms around my legs. Where she sat, she has abandoned a colouring book and pencils.

She doesn't say anything. She doesn't have to. I hug her back. "I know I was gone for a long time yesterday. I'm sorry. I... was talking with some people and lost all sense of time. I'm back now."

She squeezes me, but is placated by the answer, and returns to her colouring. Felix strokes her hair gently.

"Andrea, I'm going to go into the next room to talk to Lois, okay? We'll be right back."

I step backwards, back into the dining room, and he closes the door behind him. "I'm sorry about last night, really-"

He holds up a hand to silence me, and I immediately mute. He looks angry. He has a right to be angry, and he has a right to tirade against me for it. I wince, waiting for it.

"Don't say anything. It was on the news."

His voice is gentler. I open my eyes again. He still looks angry, but he's staring at the wall and not me, and it's frustration that takes over on his face. "Early morning news. Somebody filmed the whole thing, your face was clearly visible. Lionel and I saw it on the TV before Andrea woke up and then Elise saw a re-run of the news."

"Oh." Yep, I'm a poet.

He looks at me, dead on, in my eyes. For some reason, he looks like he's sorry. "Are you alright?"

I nod. "Yeah – yeah, I think I am."

"They didn't hurt you?"

"No – no, they uh, I think they said they burned my clothes. I'd never get the smell out of them anyway. But no. I was – I was in shock for a long time and then they brought me back." I'm quick to follow it up. "I'm sorry, I know – I know you must have been worrie- er, concerned. It was all... just... very much... a lot."

"Of course it was. You don't have to apologise." He stretches out a hand and gently pats my arm in an unusual display of intimacy. "I was worried. I could only think of a thousand things that could have happened. When Elise came back after not being able to find you I didn't know what to think. As long as you're okay, that's the main thing."

I nod. "I am, thanks."

"Alright. You need breakfast?"

"I can get it. Thanks."

"You're sure?"

"Yeah. Elise?"

"She went out, I don't know here. Maybe to one of her nosey neighbours. Lionel went with her, so we have the place to ourselves."

I nod. Neither of us move.

"It was bad," I tell him. The pain and the fear in my voice have leaked straight from my heart. "It was terrifying. They killed him like... like an animal. Like his life wasn't a consideration at all."