The Short Walk Home

Sheila pulled her light jacket closer, and folded her arms, as she waited. She had donned contact lens and deep dark shades in the blazing sunlight much earlier that day.  Good thing that she had her hat though, her gran always said that the most important thing, is to keep your head warm.  The wind was now cutting through her like a sharp blade, and seemed to have a spurious relationship with her bladder too. A white van joined the line of cars, some with headlights on, and she remembered the text alert regarding the IKEA delivery this evening. She had another 15 minutes to be home before the designated delivery time. The green man flashed, and she walked briskly, then swerved suddenly as she reached the opposite side, almost tripping over a pushchair, the mother smirked. Sheila steadied herself and headed for the cobbled stone alleyway. This way was shorter than going around the block.  Not one for using parks and alleys after dark, she walked quickly in the dusk and was on alert for any signs of danger. Maybe just this once would be okay, she thought.

As she approached a familiar row of 5 foot high steel garbage skips, she could see what looked like a person, wearing jeans, bum and one leg visible, as though the person was bending over from the waist. She figured someone might be taking a piss, or having a cigarette, as was usual because this little alley, had the rear entrances to the shops and banks and offices on the high roads.  As she came alongside, she saw that a man was intensely focused on something. Curiosity got the better of her and she had slowed down to take a peek. Her foot kicked a can and she muttered 'fuck' under her breath. The noise seemed to startle him, and he looked up, their eyes met briefly. She lowered her head and as she did, she saw a woman’s legs sprawled awkwardly, her dress revealing red knickers, and her arms dangling from where she was suspended by his arms gripping her around the neck, allowing her head to flop, and all Sheila could see was dark hair. She could not see her face and wasn’t clear if she was dead or alive.

A few seconds seemed like hours as her chest pounded and trickles of sweat laced her spine. She had not looked up again to meet his gaze, but had kept her head lowered and continued walking, the roar of a car engine and headlights on full beam approached quickly from behind her. Then another car, both blaring loud music, each car with two occupants shouting to each other through the windows, and oblivious to everything. The air had filled with the scent of weed and tobacco, the first car was now level with her at the busy intersection, and she turned left and quickened her pace.  She looked up and down the road before entering her building, her vision obscured because all the street lights were on and she was still wearing those shades. She called the police crime line anonymously, and tried to get the memory of what she had seen out of her head. She heard stories in the coming days, but like most news it soon becomes fish and chip paper. For the coming months her nightmares centred around him recognising her again, because the alleyway was so close to her home.

Christmas carols were blazing on the radio, the intercom buzzed, and she released the door. He’d called 10 minutes earlier to say that he was on his way. She had done a merry dance as she waited for him to climb the 30 steps to her apartment.  She stood at the opened door and he greeted her with a broad smile and outstretched palm. His hands were cold, and she ushered him in and offered him a hot drink to take the chill off. She pointed to the boxes and chuckled, as she told him that it had been over six months since IKEA had done the delivery. He said that he would have her ‘all sorted out’ for Christmas, and they had both laughed at the innuendo.

She made sure that he had what he needed, and excused herself as she retreated to her bedroom and closed the door quietly behind her. He whistled while he worked, and she could hear the soft hum of music in the background. She trusted the site for tradesmen on line but, despite his jolly character, she had felt uncomfortable. After a couple of hours, he indicated that he had finished and they both admired the chest. She made his final payment on line whilst he packed his tools away and swept up.

As she showed him out, he paused and asked her if she frequented the Jules Verne pub. She said no, and he threw his head back and his eyes to the ceiling, as though trying to recall something. Sheila thanked him again, and shared with him a story she had heard, that there are 3 identical people in various parts of the world, he laughed at this, and said he was a twin so in his case it was real. They both chuckled and he waved as he passed through the door on the landing.

Sheila closed her door, locked it, and leaned against it as she said a small prayer and practised her deep breathing to calm her pounding heart and stop the beads of sweat that were now popping up on her spine.