Chronicles Of A Runs Girl - S01 E58

2 years ago

Chronicles Of A Runs Girl - S01 E58

Read Story: SEASON 1 EPISODE 58

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I’ve woken up in many strange beds before but it’s always been next to a strange man who has paid me to be in his bed. Waking up alone on the bed in Rotimi’s beautiful comfortable guestroom felt strange.

I’m one of those people who can go to sleep at 4 am and still wake up at six. I always wake up before my alarm. School and needing to get out of a man’s house before it’s light outside has trained me so.

I was wide awake and unsure what to do. If he was next to me I’d have either woken him up, or if matters had been settled the night before and I knew my way out, I’d be getting dressed and I’d only wake him up at the last minute just to tell him I’m leaving. But I was alone in his guestroom and I didn’t know what to do. Do I wait for him to wake up and come check up on me? Do I go to his room and knock his door? I decided to wait, but I soon found that I couldn’t do even that. I reached for me phone and switched it on. Messages started beeping away. My battery was low so after checking that no one important had called, no call from Johnny junior, I switched the phone off and tried to go back to sleep.

I was just dozing off, I think, when I heard him knocking. It had to be him; we were the only two people in the house.

“Come in,” I said.

He was in a pair of boxers and nothing else. I was naked under the sheets. He had a glass of what looked like orange juice in one hand and a mug in the other.

“Good morning you,” he said. “Did you sleep well?”

“Yes. Good morning.”

He walked over and sat on the bed.

“How do you feel this morning?”

“I’m fine.”

“Cool. I didn’t know if you’re a coffee person or a juice person so I brought both.”

“Juice.”

He handed me the glass of juice and he sipped out of the coffee.

“It’s almost seven,” he said. “If we don’t get out of VGC now we’ll be stuck in traffic all morning.”

“Oh.”

“Remember? We’re going to my clinic?”

“Yes, yes.”

“The bathroom is the second door on your right when you come out. Meet me downstairs in fifteen minutes?”

He smelt of soap but I still asked. “What about you?”

“I’m ready. I’m just going to get dressed. Please, don’t be one of those women who take one hour to get ready.”

He smiled to let me know he was joking then he got up to leave.

“Thank you,” I said.

“For what?”

“For everything.”

He stood by the door for a while looking at me and smiling. He looked as if he wanted to say something, then he left.

I wanted to impress him so I got ready superfast but even at that, when I got downstairs he was fully dressed in a black suit, a white shirt and a red tie, standing by the dining table and sipping coffee, as if he had been waiting for me forever. He looked like a banker; a rich banker.

“I’m ready,” I said.

“Cool,” was all he said and he grabbed his keys off the dining table. I don’t even think he looked at me.

We didn’t get out early enough to beat the traffic to VI and nothing could have been worse than being stuck in traffic alone with him in his car. We spent the entire hour and a half in awkward silence. After we passed the first roundabout he switched on his stereo and asked me if it wasn’t too loud. That was all the talk we had till we got to his office at VI.

Now, I’ve been to many hospitals before but never one inside a block of luxury flats. At first I didn’t get out of the car when he parked because I thought he had stopped over to see someone.

When we entered the flat that he called his clinic, we entered a normal living room. There was a lady at the dining table working on a laptop. She didn’t get up when we entered. She greeted him and smiled at me as if she knew me.

He turned to me. “Would you like some breakfast?”

I was hungry but I’d not known how to tell him.

“Yes please,” I said.

He told me to sit down then he gave me the remote for the flat screen TV on the wall and he told me I could change the station if I wanted to. Then he disappeared into a room and next time he came out he was with a short man in a chef’s uniform.

“Sunday will sort you out,” he said.

He disappeared again, this time through a corridor that should lead to bedrooms if the flat was still being used as a home. Sunday told me had had English or Continental breakfast. I didn’t know the difference so I asked him for English. He asked me if I wanted coffee or tea and I told him juice.

The lady at the table looked my way and caught me looking at her.

“That’s a lovely dress you have,” she said. She spoke funeh.