"Whose jacket is that?" Asked mum as I sloped in. "Dylan's, I went round to his after my jog," I lied, it was actually Joshua's jacket, he loaned it to me as I set off with Grace and Dylan, "This'll keep yer warm sister," he said, putting it on for me, and even zipping it up.
I took it off and slumped on the couch, feeling mum's eyes boring into me. "You've had a row with this Dylan fella, haven't you?"
"No, I'm just tired."
"You sure? You can talk to me you know, I'm a friend as well as your mum," she said, with her soothing mumsy voice.
Making an effort to look cheery, I smiled, "Seriously mum, all's cool."
The truth was, mum was spot on, I had, had a row with Dylan. We'd just witnessed a cold-blooded murder and our responses to it couldn't have been more different.
In my eyes, Dylan seemed to accept it too easily, without question. Whereas I was reeling from shock. I felt we were complicit in a crime and when I explained this to Dylan, he said, "Benita, you're being a bit overly dramatic!"
OVERLY DRAMATIC! We'd just watched a tiny, little old lady, slaughter, a huge young man, with an ease and experience which suggested she'd done this before, and I was being told that I was 'over reacting' to it.
I exploded and started a full on rant, threatening to go to the police and tell them everything about: Clara, missing cats and dogs, escaped inmates, and a murdering old lady. Dylan just went quiet and said, "Please don't do that, Benita, promise me," he said, quietly.
And what did I do?
I turned and walked away from him, like a proper bitch.
He texted me straight away and asked me to come back to talk things over.
And what did I do? I ignored it.
Five minutes later his name popped up on my phone.
And what did I do? I ignored him.
Mum's voice interrupted the thoughts crashing through my crowded head, "Daughter, your mouth's going ten to the dozen. I can see you having conversations in your head." She moved closer, "Is he pressurising you into having sex?" She asked.
I laughed, "Mum, I won't bring shame on your family, you know that," I reassured her.
She hugged me, "Oh, I know that daughter; I just want you to know I'm always here for you, whatever the issue," she said, kissing my head.
###
I couldn't sleep
I'd texted Dylan to say sorry for rushing off in a temper and his reply was short, but not very sweet: That's alright. I'm going to sleep now. Dylan.
It was almost like he was telling me to leave him alone. AND, there was no xxx. He always signed off with three kisses, but not this time.
I tossed and turned, my thoughts vacillating from sadness to anger. One minute I'd think of going round in the morning and telling Dylan I wanted nothing more to do with all this murder and mayhem, and he had to go it alone.
Then I'd turn over and want to call Dylan and ask him if we were still all good?
Incessantly I checked my phone, hoping there'd be a message from him, reassuring me everything was going to be alright, ending with three little Dylan kisses.
But the early hours just chugged endlessly on while I lay awake, being tormented by my own lovelorn head.
###
