Insomnia

This story is part 2 of Can I Join You Click here for part 1  but I think it  also works as a stands alone story. 

It felt like the walls of this dingy, little flat were closing in on me, the room getting smaller and smaller, damper and damper, with more and more cockroaches climbing the walls. I could feel the tiredness in my joints, achingly stiff, impossible to get comfortable. But being physically tired couldn’t override the mental turmoil that crashed around my brain like waves in a storm. Sleep was like a long lost friend, gone but not forgotten.

The net was closing in; I was a marked man. Every time I shut my eyes I saw Bethan standing there, uttering those words, ‘can I join you?’ It was as if I could smell her rose scented perfume in my flat. Her words echoed around my head, her innocent brown eyes staring at me intently, her lips moving, ‘can I join you?’ ‘can I join you?’  I knew it was just a memory; a playback on loop but that didn’t stop it from disturbing my equilibrium.

I gave up the charade of trying to sleep, I sat on the end of my bed and lit a ciggie, coughing out a lungful of smoke and watching the patterns form in the half-light.

Who was Bethan? What did she want from me? Did she really want to join me? Did she know what I was up to? I thought I’d been careful, covered my tracks but, if a young gun like her had seen through me, then surely everyone one would know what I was up to.  The Clash song ran through my head, I always knew this day would come but knowing that didn’t make it any easier. Was I over reacting? After all it was just one girl, an innocent question, she might really be one of us, or she might be just playing games. But I couldn’t rule out that she was working for them.
I stood up and peered out of the window looking for my demons in the shadows. If they were there, then they were well hidden. The new moon was tentatively poking through the clouds like a learner driver at a busy T-junction. The night was still, quiet, a perfect night for a feline prowl, but even the cats were sleeping. The clock on the church tower opposite showed 2.37 - town was sleeping peacefully. I stubbed out my ciggie and yawned, stretching my tired body as I did. I considered getting back into bed but I knew I wouldn’t sleep so I lit another cigarette and continued my observation of the silent night out of my window.

The doorbell made me jump out of my skin; no one ever rang my door bell at godly hours let alone at this ungodly one. Did the police ring the bell before breaking down the door? Did it lull you into a false sense of security? I decided to ignore it, if they wanted me, they’d no doubt let themselves in. But the second ring was more persistent. I had to answer it.

I moved carefully to the door trying to be as soft footed as possible. Then I peeked through the spy hole. I suppose I was expected the police, or perhaps Bethan, what I wasn’t expecting was Beryl, the tea lady.

For part 3 click here

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