Bubbles

Chapter 25

Penny

I'm standing beneath the flow of water in someone else's bathroom and thinking about how I might never be back in mine.
The tiles on the wall are white and the bottles of Lucy's shampoo are pink. An electric razor plug is fixed above the sink. The bath mat is black.
It smells like air freshener and heat is sneaking out through the vent.
Penny's girlfriend has a motorbike.
I swallow hard.
My tears mingle with the water, making friends.
I won't accept that disease in my household! It's an evil spirit!
I feel like a teddy, stretched between two kids, reaching tearing point.
It hurts in my chest, more than Greg ever made it hurt.
Mickey and Lucy are standing in the kitchen, pacing, making the floorboards creak every so often.
The kettle's boiled at least three times.
Sand from my body twirls down into the drain, and I feel like bits of me go with it.
Someone walks up to the bathroom door.
"Penny?"
It's Lucy, as I suspected. Mickey walks different.
"Yeah?" I reply, voice cracking.
"Are you okay, honey?"
I consider how I've lived in lies up until this point, telling every pair of concerned eyes that I am indeed okay.
I consider how Lucinda Hale is different to anyone else I've ever met, and how she didn't even flinch when I took off my top.
The white tiles look back at me.
"Honey?" Lucy calls again, sounding worried.
"No," I choke out, feeling myself finally rip - right down the centre, like a veil. "I'm not! I'm not."
The numbness that's had a grip on my neck since Johnny's arrest is releasing, but in a horrible way. Like the pain has been postponed and it only just arrived.
I imagine all the bubbles in the world just popped.
"Do you need me?" Lucy leans against the door earnestly.
"Yes," I say, before I have the chance to think about it.
She opens the unlocked door, covering her eyes.
"Do you want to talk?" she asks awkwardly, her hair falling over her face.
I start shivering, despite the hot water.
"I don't know," I mutter uselessly.
"Right," Lucy says decidedly. "Let's just get you out of there, Penny."
She hands me a towel, taking extensive care not to look at me.
Barely aware of what I'm doing, I switch off the shower and wrap myself in it. She holds out a hand to steady me, and I grab it.
"Sweetheart," Lucy says quietly, making eye contact with me. "It's alright. I'm here. Don't cry."

The silence in Lucy's apartment envelopes me as I sit on her bed, hair newly blowdried, waiting for a loan of clothes. She's having to refer to Mickey's drawer for a shirt, since all of hers are in the wash.
A car drives by in the street below, two arcs of light, streaking through the blinds.
I don't know if I should cry or not.
I don't know what to do.
I sigh and decide to just hold myself, embraced by the towel.
Lucy returns a minute later, holding a Pink Floyd shirt and a pair of plaid pyjama trousers.
"The trousers are mine, so they should fit you okay." she informs me, putting the clothes into my lap.
I dress silently as she faces away, blushing profusely.
The shirt is four or five sizes too big and goes halfway down my thighs.
"Thanks. I'm done now," I say.
Lucy whips around and grabs hold of me, pulling me into a hug.
"You're beautiful," she mutters, for whatever reason.