The Audience Adventure 2 - Days 2 & 3

 Chapter 2

“Heave!” Came the cry, and the little object wobbled in the loose, wet mud.

The excavation team had not anticipated rain. Most of them had never been to the surface before and those that had only a scarce few times. The surface was unpredictable - why bother? Sometimes it was cold, sometimes it was hot, especially when it was bright. The brightness was the thing they really couldn’t bear. After centuries adapting to life underground they had come to revel in the gloom; growing enormous eyes that could pick out detail in next to no light. What light they did have came from carefully drilled holes up to the surface, the holes bent and skewed on their way down so that the light shifted and bounced and never caused hot little pools to form on the floors. It also meant that when the surface water happened, it trickled in tiny drips rather than racing straight in and flooding an unsuspecting person’s home.

Today was the culmination of months of planning for the excavation team. Searches had been ongoing since before half of them had been born - scanning the surface with various tools and technologies to search for anything that could be what they were looking for. Deep down in the treasury cavern there were huge piles of items that had been discovered but which weren’t right. Milk bottle tops, lost rings, empty cans, inexplicable items like the gem with a stick attached. No one knew what that was for but everyone knew it was pretty. Especially if you twirled it by the stick under one of the light shafts. When you did that it twinkled and shone. Perhaps there were some bonuses to the surface light after all, even if it did stings your eyes.

Marine certainly thought there was a good side to the surface light. She had joined the Search Force 4 cold seasons ago in the hope that her work would take her topside more and more. This was her first experience of it though. It was everything she’d hoped. She’d heard her elders discuss wind but had found it hard to understand.

“So the air moves?” She’d asked Pappy Gloat, incredulously.

“Yep.” Said Pappy Gloat, revelling in being the centre of attention.

“Can you see it?” Marine had no idea what the air moving could mean. You couldn’t see air, so how would you know it was moving?

“No, but you can see things being moved by it.”

“Like a puppet?” Marine thought of the marionette shows they watched after the nut harvest once the nuts had been eaten and the shells were available for auction for building materials and creating other knick-knacks.

“I suppose so,” mused Gloat, “I’d never thought of it like that before though. You can mainly feel the wind.”

“Feel it? What does it feel like?” Marine thought about the feel of the cool earth in the tunnels as she trailed a hand along it, or how a trickle of water felt if she plunged her fingers in up to her wrist and let it flow past. “Like water?”

“I suppose like water… but it’s tricksy and less forceful. It changes direction and tickles different parts of you and sometimes lies very still with just the lightest touch and sometimes blows so hard you have to hold on to stay on the ground.”

Marine just could not imagine this sensation. No matter how hard she tried, stood there in the still, stale tunnels she couldn’t picture the air swirling about her. She blew onto her hands and tried to imagine that sensation multiplied but she just didn’t feel it could be anything near right.

“What makes the wind?” Her mind’s eye conjured images of a hundred sleeping creatures all lying in hiding places and blowing the air around to confound the humans and the surface creatures.

“We don’t know. There are various theories.” Marine could tell Pappy Gloat was losing interest now he no longer knew the answers. “Some people say it’s the size of everything up there - things are so big they can’t help but move the air around. Some people say it’s about the heat but that all seems pretty far fetched to me.”

Now that she was up here on the surface, she realised she didn’t care at all what made the wind. She just loved the feel of it. It tickled her and made her sneeze. The sneeze earned her a heavy frown from the leader of the expedition. Ezria was a stern, experienced and severe woman who had been to the surface more times than anyone else Marine had heard of below. Of course, this didn’t make her popular with everyone. Most of the people Marine knew from her home town would rather not visit the surface - it was terrifying and unpredictable. They wanted security and solidarity and the tunnels and caves that had been dug out and made homes, towns and cities over the centuries were just enough thank you very much.

Marine had absolutely never felt like that. She’d always felt a yearning to be up top. She heard the stories told of Ezria and the other Captains avoiding the snuffling noses of dogs - dogs were enormous four legged creatures that would lick or nibble you if you weren’t speedy enough on your feet. She’d always felt that these adventures were where she belonged but it hadn’t been easy…

Does Marine…

1. Have to care for her siblings
2. Come from a very poor family
3. Have a secret ability
4. Have Royal blood 

Chapter 3

Marine squinted in the brightness and tried to focus on what Ezria was saying. The scanners were telling them that the object they were seeking was close and the right density to be the Lost Stone. Marine could feel her stomach fluttering and leaping and she prayed that nothing strange would happen while they were on the mission. One failure in front of Ezria was enough to have her below ground for the rest of her life on some menial task. Now that she’d been up top and seen the sky Marine didn’t think she’d be able to survive only ever seeing the top of a canyon for the rest of her life.

Her stomach was in knots and she could feel a whining growing in her ears. She tried to squash down the panic building as to what this meant. Is was an all too familiar feeling with Marine and it never spelled good things on the horizon.

Marine, Ezria and the rest of the search team were part of a race called Tingions. A tiny people who stood barely two inches high and had lived under ground for centuries. Tingions were famous within the subterranean world for wanting a simple life. It was why they had gone underground in the first place: they wanted to remove complications. Complications like magic.

Before they had gone underground Tingions had all been magic. They’d co-existed with all the topside creatures, including humans, playing tricks and making things exciting and adventurous with their magic. But then the humans had got greedy - using the Tingions for entertainment and putting them to use powering mechanics and other things that made their lives easier. Humans began rounding up Tingions, trying to farm and breed them to be more powerful and more magical. They would put huge bounties on the heads of the most powerful Tingions and cage them up in circuses and on display. There was no chance of the Tingions fighting in an all out war. Their magic was for crafts and lights, beauty and entertainment - they were far too small to be of any military power against a race as inventive and cunning as the humans.

The Tingions had retreated and resisted the humans, gradually moving further and further out of reach. Over 200 hundred years they tried negotiating to be left alone and protest their independence, and there had been several groups of humans who protested the treatment of Tingion people but overall it wasn’t enough. Eventually the entire tiny race moved completely underground to forget their harassment and live away from their tormenters. Over time and generations, the humans came to forget the Tingions. They told folk stories and sang songs and tales but the name of the race left their tongues and each new set of grandchildren came to assume more and more that all stories of fairies had always been nonsense.

Below ground things were changing too… the longer the Tingions stayed away from the humans the more they adored and savoured the peace and tranquility of being left alone. Tales of captivity, enslavement and torture were drummed into children as they sat around the dinner circles each night. It was drummed into the continuation of the DNA that they needed to be out of sight and out of mind of the humans in order to survive and stay happy.

Tingions had always been gentle and cautious, but they had enjoyed the sparks of magic and mischievous delight that they could cause. Now they despised it. Any form of magic or attention seeking was chastised and squashed and they learned to fear. Gradually the magic died out until no one could do it and no one wanted to.

No one except Marine.

Marine had been barely 3 cold seasons old when she had sneezed and sent red sparks shooting out of her toes. The sparks had tingled in the damp, darkness of their burrow and as the tiny Marine giggled at them they had fizzed and danced around the room to the pattern of her laughter. Her parents had been shocked and terrified and had ignored it - doing all they could keep Marine wrapped up and out of sight in public in case it should happen again. They had never mentioned it between them. None of their older children had ever done anything remotely like this. It hadn’t happened again and so eventually they relaxed: chalking it up to an accident that wouldn’t be repeated and wouldn’t lose them their place in society.

Marine though, had reached 14 and felt the magic tingling inside her more and more. She had never conjured sparks again but she knew something was different about her. When she got excited or too happy, or daydreamed too freely she would feel her stomach flutter and her eyes shine and then things would start to go wrong around her. Things would fall, was it falling if they went up first before crashing down? Beetles would arrive and always head straight for marine. Mud would crack or water would trickle. She felt like the air and the earth couldn’t always control itself around her and she didn’t know how or why - but she knew it was her fault.

As she stood above ground in her commando gear, trying to concentrate on Ezria’s instructions, she thought about all the times her strange tingling power had caused her to stumble and fail during her training, and she prayed that it wouldn’t mess up her first mission above ground.

QUESTION:

What complicates the mission:

1. Rain
2. A cat
3. A human
4. Another Tingion

The Audience Adventure 2 - Day 1

 The dirt was cool, and damp. Collecting in small clumps - miniature boulders nestled in the cracks of drier earth.

Flowers shielded the mud from the harshness of the sun, creating a dappled light and a haven of relief from the heat of the day. It had that smell… that smell of slight decay that should offend but hides notes of natural promise we can’t help but enjoy. It smelled like a place that knew it was doing.

Roots were in abundance; both on the surface and beneath the crusty top layer of dirt. Strong veins reached deep into the sub layers looking for water and holding out like anchors against the constantly nagging persuasion of the breeze. Dried out roots of previously dismantled weeds were tossed across the surface of the soil - wasting away against the desiccated leaves and fragments of tiny stone.

This was a world away from the plants that stood tall above the surface. They were the attraction. Shimmering petals surrounded by glorious blooms of deep green leaves and lengthy stalks. This was a garden to be proud of. And someone was.

But the mud… this was where the magic happened. Without the rot and the bugs and the turning and the roots, none of the flowers could work at all.

Just between two wavering shadows, something glinted in the sun. A round thing that did not belong down here where things happened slowly and gently. This was not an object for the hidden places of the world.

The sun caught on its gentle curves - it seemed almost to be begging to be found. Reaching up into the light and yearning to be picked up and loved. But who would notice a little thing like this when the full glory of summer flowers was shielding it in technicolour.

It hadn’t always been lost. It had been adored - looked at constantly. Twisted and turned and filled with meaning for everyone who looked at it. Now though, it lay here - if you wanted to be romantic you would say it ached to be gone and back in its rightful place, but that is to give it feelings it wasn’t capable of having. Only producing.

A carnival of ants paraded across the little metal nugget. Forging their regimented tracks towards the winter that was always coming but eternally prepared for. They didn’t so much as give the little alien object a second glance. It meant nothing to them, being neither edible, useful nor a threat. So they merely marched on. The next in a long, long line of creatures to not notice.

Slowly, steadily, the light stopped reaching the dirt in the flower bed as the long August afternoon continued. There was no way for the roots, or the mud or the little metal thing to know - but it was clouding over. The flowers were grateful in their own way though when the clouds began to drop their weight across the garden. Drip by drip it filtered down to the very bottom of the beauty and to land on the soil. The water gained momentum as the summer shower picked up and with each drop that hit the metal, a bit more mud was dislodged from around it and revealed more and more of the gleaming surface.

As the droplets bounced and splashed and sent their tiny spray around the stems and pebbles and mud, the tiny object lay - cool in the shade. The water beading and running straight off it.

It couldn’t possibly know that it was about to be picked up…

To vote on the next chapter, just comment below with your choice answers to these questions...

Is the object going to be picked up by:

1. Someone big
2. Someone small

Is that person wearing:

1. Gloves
2. Frown

The Audience Adventure - The Final Day

Emma stood in the kitchen, her hot chocolate back in the saucepan, warming gently. She thought about that kiss with Jack when they’d been here doing this together. It had been such a surprise - so nice and so very welcome. She thought about whether he might still want to kiss her and then realised she had well and truly put paid to that by cancelling her date with him and opting for a disastrous night with Theo.

‘Screw it. I’m messaging Matt.’ She decided, and her thumbs began flying across the screen putting together a nice casual hello. She sent the message and poured the drink back into her mug and walked back to the living room. By the time she sat down on the sofa he had replied.

He remembered her! He asked how she was and if they’d had a nice time when at the spa. It was quite a quick response and Emma wasn’t sure about dating etiquette as to whether she was supposed to wait before replying or match his response.

‘Stop playing games.’ She told herself, ‘Games and being confusing is what’s got you into this slumpy sad place. Just message him and if someone replying too quickly puts him off then he’s not the man for you.’

That felt like a good decision to make and Emma confidently sent another message back. She asked him some questions, feeling bold, she asked where he was from and what had brought him to Bath. This felt good. It felt healthy and fun and normal. His response pinged up. She flicked across to the inbox on the app and noticed she also had several other messages. She looked at them with surprise.

Two of the messages said hello, one said “u up” and the last was a bit more of a fully fledged message that proved he’d at least looked at her profile. She scanned his profile - he looked nice. By the time she replied she realised several minutes had gone by since Matt’s message and she raced back to it to not seem rude.

This was going to be fun! A fun little correspondence game. She decided to run a bath and give herself an hour of exchanging messages before bed. She filled the bath with hot water and plenty of white, fluffy bubbles and then climbed in.

‘Do not, under any circumstances,’ she thought to herself, ‘drop your phone in this bath.’

Emma lay back into the bubbles and felt utterly serene. If she was honest with herself she was sad at the thought of not being able to see where things went with Jack. But a little part of her felt like she probably deserved that. She’d treated him badly by cancelling on him and by being so distracted by Theo. She had learned a lesson and she didn’t feel like she could come between him and Rebecca. She had no idea if things between she and him would even work, so how could she come between him and his ex-wife where there was so much history.

‘You don’t even know that he’s trying to get back with Rebecca.’ Said a persistent voice in her head, but she shook it away. It didn’t matter. He was clearly trying to salvage something there and she didn’t want to be flighty and difficult and non-commital if his emotional energy was elsewhere. Decision made.

She rested her head against the bath and replied to a few of the more interesting profiles that had messaged her. It was a no to anyone with a photo next to a drugged tiger. It was a no to anyone who had a shirtless photo… oh, it was a no to almost everyone with a shirtless photo.

‘This is fun!’ She thought, thoroughly enjoying her window shopping. She was also continuing to hold a very engaging conversation with Matt. They were swapping horror stories of terrible customers at each of their jobs. He was funny and chatty and she was enjoying talking to him.

Suddenly Emma froze. No. This couldn’t be happening. As she’d been lazing about not focusing on anything except messages and chat and funny things to fling back, she’d been floating her legs around in the water and without thinking she had idly been exploring the taps with her feet and had popped a toe into the open tap. She had then lazily tried to move her leg back down only to find her toe completely stuck. Again.

“This cannot be happening.” She said out loud to the ceramic tiles. She placed her phone carefully on the closed lid of the toilet and focused on her stupid toe. She gently pulled with her leg but it was not coming out and it was really starting to throb already. It must have been further in than last time? She didn’t remember it getting this uncomfortable this quickly?

Emma tugged with urgency but found her toe completely unwilling to budge.

“Oh for fucks sake.” She railed. How was she back at square one? What was wrong with her? Why couldn’t she just have a bath and do some messaging like an adult without something this ridiculous happening?

She tried with all her might to pull the offending toe out of the tap but it was not budging and the panic started to rise up her skin.

‘What am I going to do?’

‘Call Fiona.’

‘She can’t get in she doesn’t have keys.’

‘Call Jack. He’s already in the building.’

‘I can’t call Jack to come and rescue me - I’m naked in the bath with my toe stuck in a tap.’

‘OK, well then it’ll have to be the fire department.’

‘I can’t call them either. Then Jack will know some thing is wrong and probably come down.’

‘Well, then cut out the middle man and just call Jack.’

She sat in the cooling water and could have screamed. Instead she splashed loudly into the bubbles in an impotent rage. She eyed her phone where it lay and wondered how it could betray her like this. Then she picked it up and scrolled through her contacts.

‘Please don’t answer. Please don’t answer.’ She chanted internally.

Jack answered the phone on the third ring.

“Emma, hi!” Emma felt her blood run cold at the thought of what she had to now say, out loud to another adult.

“Hey Jack, how are you?” She could at least delay the moment for as long as possible.

“I’m fine. Yeah. Quiet day. How are you? How was your big party?”

“Oh, oh it was terrible - I left after two hours. Listen, you’re not home are you?” She had no idea at all why she was trying to sound casual - any pretence that she was casual was going to go right out the window with her next few sentences.

“Yes, I’m home. Everything alright?”

Emma tried to get comfortable but it was hard to keep her balance with one leg stuck. She braced herself with an arm, took a deep breath and said. “Erm, no, not really, I-“

“Look Emma, if you’re calling to apologise, it’s really ok. There’s no need. I ended up having quite a good chat with Rebecca that night. She stayed until about 2 in the end and had to come back and get her car the next morning because we’d had so much to drink. It was nice to finally, really feel like we put a lot of ghosts to bed. I should be thanking you.”

Emma’s head began to swim. So, they weren’t rekindling a love affair? They were just packing one away a bit tidier?

“That sounds really healthy.” She said, and meant it, despite wishing she didn’t have one toe trapped in some plumbing as she tried to sound mature.

“Hey, do you fancy coming up for a hot chocolate?” Said Jack, and a faint note of flirting seemed to be in his voice. Emma groaned internally.

“I can’t…” she began but he interrupted her again.

“Sure, ok, I understand. Look can I just ask though, did I mess up somewhere? Because, I felt like we were getting on well and then… I don’t know. I’m really sorry if I did something wrong.”

“No, no - it’s not that!” Emma panicked, “It’s just I’ve got my toe stuck in a tap.”

There was a silence at the other end of the line followed by a puffing out of breath and then Jack clearing his throat. “Sorry, you’ve what?”

“Oh my god, this is so embarrassing. I’m in the bath, and I’ve got my toe stuck in the tap. I can’t get it out. I, I need your help.”

She could hear him beginning to laugh and it made her smile too. In a life crowded with ridiculous moments, this might be the most ridiculous.

“I’ll be down in a second.” Jack said, and the line went dead.

Emma tried to arrange the bubbles into a more covering pattern while she waited for him. She heard footsteps moving about urgently upstairs and then after a few more seconds she heard her own flat door opening.

“Emma?” Jack’s voice was in the hall.

“In here.” She said dismally, and waited for him to enter the bathroom and for her death from humiliation.

His face appeared round the bathroom door, an adorable grin spread across it.

“Oh you weren’t joking.” He said, pushing the door open and stepping in. Emma felt a thrill go through her. Of all the ways she’d thought she might be naked around him - this wasn’t it.

“I wish I was joking.” She said.

He knelt down beside the bath and produced a stick of butter from his pocket. She laughed. This was so stupid. Fiona was going to cry laughing.

Jack warmed up a bit of butter and began greasing Emma’s toe. Emma thought it must be the most ridiculous and erotic thing that had ever happened to her. How was she tingling all over at the same time as laughing her head off at how stupid the situation was?

Jack expertly massaged the butter into Emma’s toe and around the tap and then began to work her toe round in small circles. As he placed one hand on her calf to get a better purchase she gasped involuntarily at the shock of desire that went through her.

Her toe came sliding out of the tap without notice. Her foot hit the water and sent a spray of bubbles up. It covered both of them like confetti.

“There.” Said Jack, “You may go free.”

Emma sat in the bath. Not sure what to do. She looked at Jack, feeling exposed and terrified.

“So, so you’re not getting back together with Rebecca?” She said, surprising herself that those were the first words out of her mouth. Jack looked at her in surprise.

“No. No what gave you that idea?” He stuttered, “Emma, I’ve been trying to make it pretty clear - I like you.” Emma nodded, she couldn’t keep the smile off her face. Something about him just felt so right.

‘Be brave.’ She told herself, and the bravest version of everyone she could possibly be nodded its head and took the reins.

Emma stood up in the bath, bubbles and water sliding down over her smooth skin as she stood naked before him. She was going to be seen. He took a breath in, seemingly unable to stop himself from looking her up and down. He took a step towards her and placed one hand lightly on her bare hip. They kissed. One stood dripping in the bath, the other leaning in.

Emma reached out a hand to take the hand of his that wasn’t on her hip and had to pull away from the kiss to laugh hard when she found he was still holding the stick of butter. Jack laughed too. Then kissed her again hard and passionate; the butter falling to the floor. She threw her arms around his neck; spraying water across the bathroom and not caring. She shivered deliciously at the cold air on her wet skin. They stayed that way for a minute; locked together and then he felt the goosebumps on her skin beneath his fingers and stepped back.

He took the towel gently off the rail and wrapped it around her body. He offered her a hand to step gently out of the bath and she took it, still smiling.

“Well.” She said, suddenly shy now that the moment was over. Now was the point where she had to the rest of it. How would she know what to do? What if she messed it up? What if…

“Well indeed.” Said Jack, interrupting the thoughts that were threatening to spill over and talk her out of everything she thought she might be able to do. “We’d better go and tell Elliott the good news.”

The Audience Adventure - Day 35

“Are you OK, madam?” Asked the doorman, who was stood on the pavement in an immaculate coat and hat.

“Yes, yes - I’m fine. I just want to go home.” Emma smiled, wanly at him. She felt ridiculous.

“Emma!” Theo appeared at the door, clearly perplexed at her disappearing act. The footman looked from the watery-eyed woman in front of him to the man chasing her through the hotel and nodded to himself. It was not a new scene to him.

“Let me get you a cab, madam.” He took a step towards the road and lifted an arm. Emma felt like she was in some kind of period drama. She didn’t turn to Theo, but he arrived at her side and caught her elbow.

“Emma, where are you going?” He was out of breath. She turned tiredly towards him.

“I’m going home, Theo. I think it’s pretty obvious you only invited me here to make Elaine jealous - hopefully it’s worked, I’m done.” She didn’t really have the energy to shout or make a scene or be furious. She was mainly just tired and wanted to be gone so she could start forgetting the whole miserable situation. Theo was squirming looking at her.

“Ah jeez, Em, I didn’t really mean it - I did like you. It’s just…” She held up a hand to stop him.

“I really don’t care Theo.” She looked at the man in front of her - he couldn’t have known how she’d felt about him all those years in the London office. He was a careless and carefree man who had assumed she was stronger than she was. She was prepared to give him the benefit of the doubt but no more of her time. “I just don’t think we should see each other any more. Good luck with Elaine.”

A taxi pulled up by the doorman who opened the door and smiled widely to Emma. “Here you are madam.” He said, and Emma decided she loathed being called ‘Madam’ and couldn’t wait to be gone. She climbed into the taxi and pulled out her phone. It wasn’t even 11pm yet…

“Where to miss?” Asked the driver, peering at her over his shoulder.

“Er, how long would it take to get to Paddington?” She asked, hastily swiping through her phone to check what time the last train was - perhaps she could get home tonight? It was a waste of the hotel money, but - that money was gone anyway so what did it matter?

“Oh… about 15 minutes? Maybe 20 if it’s packed.” Said the driver, “What time’s your train?”

The information popped up on Emma’s screen and she felt a little bubble of happiness float up like a lava lamp through her body. “Not for 32 minutes!” She squeaked, “We’ll make that?”

“No trouble at all.” The driver let off the handbrake and pulled out into the traffic. Emma waved to the friendly doorman who was smiling kindly at her. She decided they could definitely have been friends in another lifetime.

“Good night was it?” The drivers voice was amplified over the electric speakers in the cab. She smiled ironically at his question.

“Not the best - but, helpful maybe. Put a lot of things to bed.”

“Ah, one of those. Well, if you think you’re going to be sick let me know so I can pull over.” He went back to watching the traffic and Emma was grateful that he let her just sit and muse and look at the shiny lights of London. She hadn’t really thought much about being back here. She’d been so fixated on the ball that it hadn’t occurred to her that it was her first visit back to London. She didn’t miss it - in fact, she was quite surprised by how much she was yearning to be back in Bath.

The thought occurred to her that maybe she ought to leave Bath now? She’d only ever gone there chasing some harebrained, lonely idea of a crush. Now that crush was well and truly trampled to death beneath the heel of juvenile behaviour she had no real reason to stay there.

‘Ridiculous.’ She snapped at herself, ‘You have more reason to stay there than you did to move there. You have Fiona and the shop if nothing else. Without even taking into account whether or not you want to pursue things with Jack. And also, you’re happy there. That matters.”

The taxi pulled up at Paddington station and Emma paid the driver with a nice tip, grabbed her bag and dashed into the station. There was plenty of time and she nipped on to the train and grabbed a seat by a window. It wasn’t too busy - most people already had their eyes closed and a faint boozy fug wafted off the snorers. Emma probably smelt the same.

She sat down and stared at the bricks and steel of Paddington. It was a pretty station - brutal but classy with high vaulted ceiling and intricate girders. One of her favourites in London. Eventually the train began its slow acceleration to full speed and she felt delighted to be heading back to her new little world.

She felt awake in Bath. Things had been messy and complicated and a bit more dramatic than she would have liked but… but maybe that’s what had been missing in London? If there had been people in her life and things going on then maybe she wouldn’t have become so besottedly attached to Theo? She wouldn’t have been able to create a person and put it onto the body of a co-worker she barely knew? Of course Theo had felt shiny and perfect and fun… she didn’t know him.

Parts of Emma were trying to make her feel stupid - she wanted to berate herself. But a bigger part of her - a part of her that loved herself, mainly just felt incredibly sad.

‘How did I let that happen?’ She asked herself, ‘I have family and had a friend network… how did I get so small?”

The truth was she hadn’t even noticed it happening. First it was a few months of not socialising much because she was focusing on work, then it was choosing to live alone instead of in a flat share, then it was being on an awkward tube line for her friendship group… then… then she hadn’t even noticed she was lonely because it wasn’t loneliness; it was just life.

‘Maybe that’s why you’re not that angry at Theo?’ The thought popped up like a notification and she hovered on it, wondering whether to click it and explore further.

‘Whatever he is and isn’t - the thought of him got you out to Bath and changed things?’

‘Was that him or me though?’

‘Does it matter?’

‘Maybe I’d have woken up in London once he was gone too?’ She wondered, but felt like she probably wouldn’t. ‘You’d probably just have moved the crush somewhere else.’

‘Maybe that’s what Jack is?’

‘Jack? A crush?’

Jack didn’t feel like a crush though… it wasn’t easy enough to adore him. He was fun and nice but he was messy and too real. She couldn’t drift off into a daydream about him because it didn’t feel right to dreamily imagine his behaviour - he was too much a person. The question was, is that good or bad?

By the time the train rolled into Bath station at 1:30 Emma was pretty convinced it was good. Jack was opinionated and had got angry, and had a past and felt real. That had to be a good thing? That meant he would have input into her life. The more real people talked to her the less time she had to argue with herself in her mind and get confused and messy.

Jack was real. It made it infinitely more scary to want to like him, because she couldn’t control everything with him. He was going to be in it with a hand on the rudder too. But, Fiona had been unexpected and complicated and messy… and hadn’t that been exactly the friendship it had turned out she needed?

She felt oddly excited about apologising to Jack. About laying it out that she liked him but didn’t know how to move it on. She felt like she would possibly be able to stand on his doorstep and just say that. She could imagine him laughing and inviting her in for a cup of tea, possibly saying that “This is how it will start.”

‘I see you’re not finding it that hard to daydream about him.’ She laughed at herself and she walked home. That was one thing about Bath. 1:30am here meant there was not a helpful queue of taxis just waiting to ferry her home. Never mind, she’d be back in no time.

It was a peaceful walk through the quiet, dimly lit streets. Her bag was heavy on her shoulder but she shifted it frequently and was soon turning down her little street. It was an exciting curiosity to her to see Jack’s light still on.

‘Maybe I should go up now?’ Her heart picked up pace - launching itself into the bars of her rib cage.

‘Is that too forward? We didn’t even kiss after dinner, and then I brushed him off today. It might be a bit… too much?’

There were so many thoughts racing through her mind. She put her key in the lock of the front door and the automatic light flicked on in the hall.

‘I’ll put my bag down, calm down and then see how I feel.’ She told herself, and then began climbing the stairs. She turned at the top of the first flight on to her landing and walked straight into Rebecca.

“Oh, sorry!” She said, flustered.

“My fault - I wasn’t looking where I was going.” Rebecca said, smiling, “Too much wine.”

Emma’s mind was racing. What did this mean? Jack’s texts had certainly given her the impression Rebecca had long since left? A cosy night in drinking wine with your ex-wife until 2am…? There was messy and then there was this messy.

Emma unlocked her own door and decided it probably wasn’t the right time to be brave.