He'll have to break all the rules to keep her, but first she has to break just one and let him in...
It's taken four years, but Anna Fray has finally put the past behind her. Mostly. She fills her days working in a bar and her nights watching bad ro...
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Book Boy didn't come back to the bar that day, or any day that week. He didn't knock on my kitchen door or linger on his balcony as he had before. In fact, it was as if he'd vanished entirely. In his absence, life went back to normal.
I worked my shifts at the bar. I talked to Kelly, Emma and Callum about the same superficial things we had talked about before. I did my weekly shop at the supermarket. I watched ridiculous romantic comedies or read one of the many books on my shelves. I drank too much wine and failed to get enough sleep. I did it all like I used to, except this time I had the voice in the back of my head, asking me where Book Boy was. It wasn't a longing voice, but it was a curious one.
Even Nightmare seemed to wonder where'd he'd gone. She'd become a full-time resident at my flat, but I'd caught her lingering outside the flat upstairs. She'd stretch herself out on the balcony in front of their back door, like she was waiting for Book Boy to come pay her attention. Over the weeks we'd talked, she'd become smitten by him. The jealous voice in my head wondered if he secretly hid cat treats in his pockets.
His sudden disappearance filled my head as I walked up my street on my way home.
I felt a flash of dread when I saw the police car parked outside. As my concern increased, so did my speed. Soon my footsteps were as frantic as my thoughts. Like most people, the sight of the police car sent my head into a flurry of questions and theories. Each one rattling around in my head.
They all stopped when I saw my front door wide open.
As I walked through, I could hear voices coming from the living room. Nightmare joined my side as she came trotting out of my bedroom. I cast a glance from where she'd come from and saw my belongings strewn across the floor.
Realisation started to sink in.
By the time I saw the officer making notes next to the broken window, I felt the anger fizzing in the pit of my stomach. My hand clenched, and my fingernails bit into my palm, leaving crescent shaped indents in the soft milky skin.
"What happened?" I snapped as I looked at the mess surrounding me. The officer turned with an apologetic smile.
"We had a report of a suspected burglary. Are you the owner of the property?"
"I rent, but yeah," I huffed as I pulled my hair free from the hairband and ran my hands through it.
The officer's face twisted in sympathy as she cast a quick look at the broken window. It would cost a small fortune to fix, but then again, any chance of getting my security deposit back vanished years ago.
"I'm PC Johnson, I'll be the lead officer dealing with this," she started, friendly but professional, before checking her notes. "There doesn't seem to be too much damage, but if you could take a look around and see if there's anything missing?"
I glanced around at her instructions, but despite the chaos around me, it didn't look like anything important had been taken. If anything, it looked like whoever had broken in had wasted their time rifling through throwaway possessions. Trashy magazines were scattered across the floor, and cushions were out of place, but my bookshelves were relatively untouched.
