Every Touch

by Parke, Nerika

  He waited for the police to arrive, then slipped out the door with the box. He didn’t go back to flat seven for a long time. He wanted to remember it as it had been, full of love and laughter and kindness, the home of two remarkable people who had treated him like a son.

  Ten

  Denny stood on the balcony of his flat, leaning against the railing. Taking a deep breath of the cool morning air, he gazed at the tops of the trees in the park two streets away, just visible above the surrounding buildings. Birds fluttered amongst the branches, courting, building nests, mating. The whole flurry of spring activity.

  He missed his local park. He used to walk in it often when he was alive, enjoying the changing of the seasons, the birds and squirrels in the trees, the ducks and geese on the lake. He had never been a tree hugging nature freak, but he did like the outdoors. And now, for over four years, all he’d had was his tiny balcony to stand on. He missed being able to walk outside, especially in the spring. Oliver would sometimes tell him about whatever was happening in the park where he slept, when the trees started to change to their autumn colours, the geese arriving on the lake from wherever they spent the summer, the first swallows of spring, the well tended flowerbeds bursting into bloom.

  Denny was happy to be stuck in his own building, with his neighbours, where he had TVs to watch and books to read and a piano to play, but sometimes he envied Oliver being able to move around outside.

  His eye was drawn to a small truck pulling up outside the building on the street below. Two men jumped down from the cab and opened the back. A blue car that had been following them turned into the parking area at the side of the building and disappeared from view.

  Denny caught a glimpse of furniture in the back of the truck and sighed. They were here, the new interlopers. He knew they had to be moving into his flat, all the others were occupied. Since the Coopers had moved out a month ago he had been enjoying having his own space again, where he could do whatever he wanted and sleep on his own bed. Now he was going to be reduced to wandering around the building trying to find some peace.

  He didn’t know who was moving in. Mr and Mrs Clapper, the people who had rented the flat to him and who still owned it, had shown several people around, but he’d always made himself scarce when they did. He couldn’t do anything about whoever moved in so he preferred to not know until it was absolutely necessary. Maybe this time whoever it was would be nice and quiet and out a lot. If they were really terrible, he could move things around, slam a few doors, just enough to freak them out sufficiently to leave. It wouldn’t be the first time. He had felt slightly guilty about it, but Ian had been loud and rude and blared techno at all hours. He had also smoked, in a non-smoking flat, and Denny hated the smell of cigarette smoke. He had done the neighbours a favour by getting him out.

  He heard the front door opening and wandered through the window and back into the bedroom. He might as well get this over with.

  “Oh, this is a nice size,” he heard a woman’s voice say as he walked through the door into the living room.

  “Yeah. I’ll easily get my two boxes of stuff in here,” a second woman replied.

  Two young women were standing in the middle of the room, one blonde and one brunette. Two very pretty young women. Denny grinned. Things were looking up. He hadn’t seen who had spoken so he didn’t know which of them was moving in. He would have been happy with either, but he hoped it was the brunette. She was stunning.

  “You’ll be cluttering the place up in no time,” the blonde said.

  “Yes!” he said, performing a delighted fist pump. “Score!”

  “Just like back home,” she continued.

  “What do you mean, just like back home?” the beautiful brunette said. “My room was perfection. It was yours that was always a tip. Mum and dad were always telling you to tidy up.”

  “I think you have selective recall,” the blonde said, smiling.

  The brunette laughed and the room suddenly felt a little brighter. It was the most beautiful laugh he’d ever heard.

  So they were sisters. Now Denny knew, he could see the resemblance, despite the difference in their hair colour.

  “What’s the bedroom like?” the blonde said, walking to the door to the bedroom and opening it. The brunette followed. “Oh, not bad. Ooh, a balcony.”

  Denny followed them, watching as they walked out onto his balcony. He hoped she didn’t decide to fill it with potted plants like the appropriately named Mrs Greene had. It made it so awkward to enjoy the one bit of outside space he felt was his own when he had to walk through a miniature jungle. And he couldn’t lie down and look at the sky, as he sometimes liked to. It just felt weird, with branches poking out of him in all sorts of awkward places.

  His gaze dropped to their jean-clad behinds as they leaned on the railing facing away from him. They were both very fine, but the brunette’s was sensational, just the perfect shape and size. He was in trouble with an ass like that. Not to mention a body like that and a face like that. He turned away quickly as his natural responses threatened. What a cruel thing death was, he thought, not for the first time. Leaves you with a raging libido and takes away any chance you have to use it.

  He rolled his eyes. He could at least let the poor woman move in before he started having lascivious thoughts about her.

  “Excuse me? Miss?”

  Both women turned at the sound of the man’s voice calling.

  “In here,” the blonde called, walking back to the living room.

  The brunette lingered on the balcony. Her eyes were closed, her face turned toward the sun as she took a deep breath and let it out slowly.

  Denny studied her face. She was absolutely beautiful, her long, dark hair framing model features, large green eyes, a slim nose slightly turned up at the end and full, pink lips. But the thing he noticed most about her as she stood on the balcony, something he hadn’t seen before, was the expression of sadness on her exquisite face. A melancholy tinged with, was it fear? Something broke in his heart at the sight. He couldn’t look away. He felt a completely unexpected, but utterly overwhelming urge to take her into his arms and comfort her, to somehow take whatever burden she was carrying onto himself and restore her happiness.

  “Laila,” the blonde’s voice called from the living room, “they want to know where you want everything to go.”

  She opened her eyes and shook her head, the sadness leaving her face as quickly as it had arrived. She turned and walked back inside.

  “Coming, Kelly,” she said loudly, walking past Denny back to the other room.

  He stood still for a few seconds.

  “What on earth was that?” he said to himself.

  What had he just felt? It was unlike anything he’d ever experienced before and had momentarily floored him. He drew in a deep breath and looked toward the open door to the living room.

  “Laila,” he said, feeling her name roll on his tongue. “What a beautiful name.”

  He stayed around to watch as Laila’s things were unloaded and brought up from the removal truck. She didn’t seem to have much, just a few small items of furniture and a TV to add to the furniture already in the flat, and three small boxes of personal belongings and a couple of suitcases of clothes. He’d seen homeless people with less stuff.

  He continued to hang around for the rest of the day as Laila and her sister Kelly moved furniture and unpacked everything. He liked the sisters. They were entertaining to listen to, their banter often making him laugh. But he especially liked Laila. She was bright and funny. Just his type, beautiful, intelligent, fun. Denny was torn. He knew he was going to love being around her, but he also knew it was going to be a special kind of torture knowing he would never even be able to talk to her.

  There were times when he hated being dead even more than usual.

  “I’ll have to go shopping for some things tomorrow,” Laila remarked as she peered into an empty cupboard in the kitchen.

  Kelly smiled. “Wait right
there,” she said, heading out the door.

  Laila shrugged and began checking all the cupboards. Denny leaned casually against the counter next to her.

  “So,” he said, “come here often?”

  She reached up to run her hand over the top shelf of the wall cupboard behind him and Denny suddenly found himself almost face to face with her bust. He held his breath until she backed away.

  “If I wasn’t already dead,” he said, gasping for oxygen, “this would kill me.”

  As if to press the point, she bent over in front of him to peer into another cupboard, giving him a perfect close-up view of her perfect ass. He whimpered, turning and walking to a safer distance, then slumping against a wall and wiping his hand across his face, smiling ruefully.

  “I am so screwed,” he said.

  A few minutes later Kelly returned, struggling to carry a large cardboard box with a plastic gift bow stuck on the top. Laila immediately ran to help her, taking one side and carrying the box with her sister to the kitchen counter.

  “What’s this?” she said, peeling off the tape holding it closed.

  “Your housewarming gift,” Kelly smiled, “to get you started in your wonderful new life.”

  Laila peeked inside and gasped. She proceeded to pull out a boxed set of saucepans, a set of cutlery and other assorted kitchen items. Finally, she took out a single plate, bowl and mug.

  “There are more of those, but I couldn’t fit them in the car without you seeing,” Kelly said. “I’ll bring them over tomorrow.”

  Laila was staring at everything, her hand covering her mouth. She looked at her sister, eyes glistening with tears.

  Denny felt like his heart was being squeezed.

  “Oh, Laila,” Kelly said, wrapping her arms around her.

  “Thank you,” Laila whispered, hugging her sister, “for everything. For everything you’ve done. I wouldn’t have made it without you.”

  “Yes, you would,” Kelly said. She pulled her head back to look at Laila. “You are much stronger than you give yourself credit for. You know that?”

  Laila looked down and shrugged and Denny wiped a tear from his eye, clearing his throat. Where had that come from? He was glad no-one could see his embarrassingly emotional reaction.

  Kelly was looking at her watch. “Oh, damn, I have to get going or I’m going to be late for my shift. Are you sure you’re going to be okay?”

  “Yes, go. I’m fine.

  “What are you going to eat?” Kelly asked her, looking worried.

  “I’ll go shopping tomorrow,” Laila replied, “and I’ll just find somewhere to get a take-away for tonight.”

  “There’s a pizza place down the road,” Denny said.

  “I saw a pizza place down the road,” Laila said, making him smile.

  “I don’t like leaving you like this,” Kelly said, still looking concerned.

  “Leaving me like what? I’m fine, I’m a big girl. I can feed myself. Stop being such a big sister and go.”

  “Okay, but if you need anything at all, call me.”

  “I will. Go. Now. Before I have to throw you out.”

  “Yeah, I’d like to see you try,” Kelly said, walking to the door.

  “Any time,” she said, sounding tough, but ruining the effect with her smile.

  Kelly laughed as she left. Laila watched her go then closed the door and locked it, sliding the security chain into place. Turning around, she leaned back against the door for a few seconds, her eyes closed. Then she walked slowly through to the bedroom and out onto the balcony with Denny following. She waited for her sister, waving when Kelly appeared and then watching her car pull out of the car park and drive away.

  When it was out of sight she walked back inside, closed and locked the balcony doors, and burst into tears.

  Denny gasped and rushed to her side.

  “No!” he said frantically. “What’s wrong? Why are you crying? Please don’t cry.”

  He ducked his head, trying to see into her face which she had covered with her hands. Sobs shook her body. He reached out his hands to her, bringing them as close as he could get without touching her.

  “Don’t cry,” he repeated.

  She walked to the bed and fell onto it, curling up on her side and continuing to sob.

  Denny had never felt so helpless in his life. Or his death. The sound of her distress tore at his heart. He would have done anything to make her feel better, but he had no idea what he could do.

  He looked around the room, for what he didn’t know. He walked towards the living room, but another sob brought him rushing back to Laila on the bed. Eventually, he sat on the floor in front of her, his knees pulled up to his chest, just watching her. Her hand was resting on the edge of the bed next to him and he passed his own hand into it, leaving it there so they were together. Hoping that, somehow, she would know she wasn’t alone.

  And that’s where he stayed, until she stopped crying and, after a while, fell asleep.

  The sun went down. The bedroom slowly darkened until the only light was from the streetlamps far below and the moon just peeking over the rooftops of the building on the other side of the road. Still Denny stayed sitting by the bed. He would normally have been going to see if Oliver was around or checking on his favourite families in the building, seeing if anyone was watching anything on TV he wanted to see, but he couldn’t leave Laila’s side. What if she woke up and started crying again?

  On an intellectual level, he knew it wouldn’t make any difference to her if he was there or not. He knew he could go any time he wanted, without any guilt or fear of his absence causing her any distress. Yet he didn’t move. He may as well have been glued to the floor by the bed. Just watching her. He had no idea why he felt this way about a woman he’d just met, but he simply couldn’t leave.

  So he stayed and watched her unfeasibly beautiful face, with her eyes swollen from crying and her nose red, waiting for her to wake.

  ***

  The chorus of “It’s Raining Men” jolted Denny awake. His eyes snapped open.

  He was still sitting on the floor next to his bed, his head leaning on his arm on the mattress. The soft groan of a woman’s voice brought him instantly to full wakefulness. He lifted his head to see Laila rolling onto her back and grimacing, pressing a hand to her face. She reached out blindly to where her phone was cheerfully vibrating across the surface of the bedside cabinet as it blared out her ringtone, feeling around for the offending gadget. Smiling, Denny placed a finger next to the phone and nudged it into the path of her roaming hand where she grasped it and brought it to her ear.

  “Hello?... Yes, Kelly, I’m fine... no, I’ve been finishing off unpacking and rearranging things to where I want them.... of course I’ve eaten... pizza... pepperoni and mushroom... stop worrying, I’m fine... yes, I’m working tomorrow, but you can come round later... okay, I’ll see you then... bye, Kel.”

  She dropped the arm holding her phone back onto the bed beside her, sighed loudly and sat up. Denny moved out of the way as she swung her legs off the side of the bed towards him and stood up then put a hand to her stomach as it rumbled audibly.

  “Maybe I should eat,” she said to herself.

  “Yes, you should,” Denny said, getting to his feet beside her, “you’ll feel better if you eat.” He smiled, thinking how much like his mother he sounded.

  Laila pulled the curtains closed across the balcony doors and walked to the living room. Picking up her coat which she had left draped over a chair, she pulled it on, walked to the front door and stopped. Denny frowned next to her. She had reached her hand out to the handle, but she wasn’t touching it and he noticed a slight tremor as it hung in mid-air. For a few seconds, she simply stood staring at the door, then she dropped her hand and closed her eyes.

  “No,” she said, “I’m a grown woman. I can do this.”

  Opening her eyes, she raised her hand again and this time grasped the handle, but froze. Letting go, she turned around and lean
ed back against the door.

  “Damn it,” she said.

  She took her coat off and hung it on a hook by the door, then dug her phone from her pocket. After ordering the pizza to be delivered the few hundred yards to her flat, she went back into the bedroom with Denny on her heels.

  He was worried about her. She was obviously scared, so scared she couldn’t leave the flat to get a pizza. He wished her sister had been able to stay with her. Maybe it was just the unfamiliar surroundings that had her so nervous and upset. Although he didn’t get the feeling her inability to go out had been a surprise to her. He wished he could do something to help.

  She walked to the wardrobe and opened it and his eyes widened as she began to unbutton her jeans. For a few seconds he watched, rooted to the spot as she bent to push them down her long legs. Suddenly feeling guilty, he forced himself to turn away and walked very quickly back into the living room, sitting on a chair and taking some deep cleansing breaths.

  Eleven

  Laila changed into her comfortable but definitely not for wearing out in public clothes, leggings and a baggy jumper, pushed her feet into her pink fluffy slippers and wandered back through to the living room. She looked around at her new flat. It was nice. She liked the feel of it. Something about it made her feel comfortable and peaceful. More peaceful than she had felt in a long time. Since before Gary.

  There was the crying, yes, but that hadn’t been a surprise. It wasn’t like she never cried nowadays. And getting her own flat was a big step for her.

  Moving out of Kelly’s house had been tough on her. She knew she had been far too reliant on her sister for the past four months and that she needed to be on her own, rebuild her own life, but it was hard. She was scared and it made her angry. She had never been the most adventurous of people, preferring to live a quiet life with her friends and her family and her job in the library, but she had never been scared. Until she’d fallen for Gary. Now doing anything new felt like she was pushing against a brick wall. She didn’t know if she would ever regain her self-confidence. And that scared her most of all.