Kitty's Countryside Dream by Christie Barlow

days and there was less room than on jam-packed London Underground trains during rush hour.
    It was just about functional but clearly the design vision of an individual who’d spent many years at Her Majesty’s pleasure. I shuddered when I spotted the dusty old dried-flower arrangement that was propped up by the corner basin. Without a doubt it had been present since the 1950s.
    Then I heard a sound, a muffled giggle.
    I stood still.
    I heard it again, followed by a thud and a shuffle of feet.
    â€˜Shhh, get off, there’s someone there, be quiet.’ I heard Jeannie’s voice.
    Frozen to the spot, I couldn’t believe it.
    There must be some kind of mistake.
    â€˜Who’s there?’ I heard Jeannie whisper from the other side of the door, followed by another chuckle.
    My jaw dropped open.
    Then I heard ‘Shhh’ – it was definitely said by a man.
    I stood perfectly still, not daring to make a sound. I didn’t want them to know it was me. I felt very sad suddenly. I wanted to be wrong but the dread rose up through my body. I recognised Jeannie’s voice instantly and she was sharing a moment with … I didn’t want to bring myself to think about it, but it had to be him, it definitely had to be Tom; who else could it be? He had gone to the bathroom only moments before me – he was inside the cubicle with her.
    Quietly gliding out of the room and back into the pub, I noticed that Robin was now propping up the bar. The queue had started to dwindle and the pub was beginning to empty. The partygoers were moving on to the clubs. Before he noticed me I slipped silently out of the double doors and hailed a taxi; there was only one place I wanted to be right now and that was home.

Chapter Thirteen
    S afely within my flat , I kicked off my pumps and threw my coat over the hook in the hallway, heading straight for the fridge to pour myself a large glass of wine.
    Loyal, reliable Alfie appeared in the doorway to the kitchen; he was purring merrily, glad that I had finally returned home so he could snuggle down on the duvet and fall asleep next to me. Scooping him up in my arms, I buried my tear-stained face deep in his fur; I didn’t know what I would do without him.
    Carrying him to the living room, I placed him gently down on the settee and then grabbed my wine from the kitchen. Taking a huge gulp, I picked up my book to read. I read the same paragraph over and over again and, defeated, placed the book back on the table. I switched on the television and settled back down beside Alfie. Flicking through the channels, the images on the screen were nothing but a blur. I couldn’t focus; my mind was racing, replaying the night’s events on a loop in my head.
    Soon enough, my tired, battered body was calling out for the comfort of my bed.
    â€˜Come on. Bedtime, you,’ I murmured softly towards Alfie. ‘It’ll all look better in the morning, I’m sure.’ I wasn’t certain who I was trying to convince. He immediately jumped down from the settee and padded across the room towards the hallway. I followed him.
    Unexpectedly, I heard the woody echo of knuckles rapping on the front door.
    â€˜Kitty, are you there? It’s me, Tom, please let me know if you’re there!’ He sounded worried. What was he doing here at this time of night? Maybe he thought I’d overheard him and Jeannie in the loos …
    I turned the key in the lock and held the door open to find Tom’s concerned eyes gazing back at me. The cold air hit me instantly and I shivered.
    Tom’s hands were dug deep down in his pockets to shield them from the frosty temperature of the night air. His shoulders were hunched up and his neck was scrunched down inside the upward-turned lapels of his coat as he struggled to keep warm.
    â€˜What happened tonight? I was worried. One minute you were there, next you were gone. I didn’t want to wait until morning to ring you.