Tainted Attraction

09/ Clean up, Aisle 11

"She has a heap of her staff here, and business associates, I didn't think she'd want anyone to see her like this, but she didn't lock the door, I just walked in on her. The other bathroom was engaged and -"

I could hear the panic in her voice, she was rambling and that only made me want to race up there as fast as I could. We attempted to slip through the party inconspicuously, up the spiral staircase and into the bathroom, it was inevitable that some heads turned our way, but thankfully no questions were raised. 

That's where we found her.

Kitt gagged, smacking her arm over her face audibly.

"I am soo not cleaning that up," her voice muffled through the protective barrier she'd devised.

I felt the colour drain from my face. I slammed the door shut, dragging my hand through my hair and searching my wrist for the trusty hair band I kept there for an emergency. This was certainly an emergency.

"Don't worry, I will do the cleaning. Kitt you make sure everyone leaves, I don't care what you say, just get them out of here before anyone else sees this. Amber you can help her." 

"No, I can help you. I feel soo responsible. I'm the one that found her," Amber pleaded.

I smiled gratefully. If it was anyone's job to look after the drunken hen, it was mine. But I wasn't about to turn down the help.

"You don't need to ask me to leave twice," Kitt uttered, already turning on her heels and heading off. 

I took a deep breath, ripping back open the door. This time, Shelly's head raised from the toilet bowl, before tumbling back into the watery mess, her hair tangled across her face and sodden with the retched alcohol. The room reeked, the floor coated in sick. It was a disaster zone, hardly the end of the night I had planned. How she managed to end up in this state I didn't know, was no one watching just how much she was drinking? It occurred to me it was how little everyone else seemed to care about her welfare, me included that resulted in this. Now I was literally cleaning up the mess.

"Fuck, Shelly, I really didn't sign up for this," I mumbled. I turned back to Amber, who was loitering in the doorway, suddenly unwilling to lend a hand. "Can't I just leave her here, pretend we didn't find her?"

"But she's your sister." I watched her mouth fall.

I wasn't offended. She didn't know just how little we liked each other. Undoubtedly, if this was the other way around, that would have certainly been the outcome for me, left to sleep it off, stranded in my own mess. I knew my conscience wouldn't stretch that far. Sighing, I gripped her clean arm, dragging her like a rag doll closer to the shower head. I was thankful she could afford the luxury of a wet room, although It wasn't exactly helpful to me when there were more settings than the dashboard of a car. I deliberated my next move, whether I could justify the urge just dunk her under the stream of water. However, that would only add to the clean-up operation and I wasn't planning to delay my return to drinking any longer than necessary. I was wrong earlier, there would be enough alcohol to help me forget tonight. If my sister wasn't remembering this tomorrow, I surely didn't plan to either.

"That jacket would have cost hundreds, can't we take it off."

I twisted to face her, unmoved from her position. Surely, there was no we about this clean up operation.

"It's clearly ruined already, I highly doubt any money thrown at a cleaner would manage to get those brown stains out," I uttered harshly, pointing down at the mess that was my sister.

In the distance, I could hear the muffled tones of Kitt, rudely ushering the people from the flat. She was harsh, matter of a fact. But it seemed to be working, the hustle had died down, and a calmness fell over the house.

I grabbed a hand towel from the heated rack, soaked it under luke-warm water before rinsing off her face, hardly having either the intention or sobriety to be gentle with it. When the semi cold liquid splashed her face, her eyes opened, stunned and confused.  Her arms moved to swipe away the liquid,  before she coiled herself into a little ball on the floor.

"No! Richard. You can't see me like this," she cried out.

"It's me. It's Georgie."

"I think I better go," Amber mumbled weekly from behind me.

"Genie, is it only you? Who else is here?"

"Yes, only me." I turned my back to Shelly, altering my stance. "Thanks for the help Amber, get home safe," I whispered, failing to keep the annoyance from my voice. Shelly clawed at my leg, snatching my attention back to her, and away from the meek girl who was cowering behind me. She didn't reply, although I heard the clicking of her heels as she made her way down the stairs, that's how I knew she had gone.

"Where's Richard? I don't want him to see me like this. I will never speak to you if you let him in here." I was surprised how stern she could come across, considering she was knocked out drunk on the floor a matter of minutes ago.

"He's not here, Shelly." I couldn't help but grumble, as I began to rinse the worst of the vomit from her hair. She'd definitely have to wash it herself tomorrow, but I wasn't about to strip and bathe her. That was honestly my worst nightmare, and far too intimate for people who were more like strangers than sisters.

"Good," she mumbled her eyes glazing back over as she nodded back off into her alcohol induced slumber.

After dabbing the worst off the vomit from both her hair and her outfit, she no longer reeked, and I was left with the task of getting her to bed. I flung her heels from her body, chucking them closer to the mess surrounding the toilet, they'd need rinsing. That would at least leave her only slightly towering over my small figure. The cleaning would have to wait, at least until I disposed of her. I gripped her under her arms, hauling her up on her feet, but she was a dead weight. For a lean woman, she sure had heavy bones.

"Come on Shelly, you need to help me out a little," I carped, as she began to slump slightly, slipping from my grip and crashing back down onto the tiled floor. Whoops, that might have hurt.

It seemed to work in my favour, she raised her arm and wrapped it around my neck, helping to raise her weight. It was a slow pursuit the few short steps across the landing, what would have taken seconds, dragged on. I balanced her against the wall as I gripped the handle, stepping into unchartered territory.

Her room was by far the most impressive in the house. It was as I imagined, pristinely kept, cushions piled high on her massive bed all cast in hues of greys and whites. It was a stark contrast from mine, with pictures tacked to the walls and in a state which often regarded as chaos. There wasn't even a single sock out of place here. This room somehow managed to remain impersonal, no framed photos, nothing that signified this as the residence of a soon to be newlywed couple. He must exist, her friend confirmed it, so where was the evidence. It was more of a show house than a lived in, breathed in one. Even the two bedside tables were graced with a single lamp on each side, and nothing else. I would have at least expected a book, magazine or something to show me this place was lived in, but there was nothing; it was like an empty shell.

I let her fall from my arms, leaving her to drop onto the bed like a discarded doll. I heaved her legs up to join her body, casting the throw across her body to keep her warm. Turning, I left her in the darkness, wondering if she would have any memory of tonight when she recovered in the morning. As well as whether I'd even receive a thank you if she did. I doubted it.