Every Touch (17 page)

   When he was finished, Oliver was silent for a while.

   “Are you sure she’s okay with this?” he said.

   “Yes, of course I’m sure.  Pretty sure.  Almost one hundred percent.”  Denny frowned.  “I was sure until you made me start to doubt.”

   “It’s just, I don’t mean to rain on your parade, I’m sure she’s fine with it.  She looked happy when I saw her.  But...” He stopped, looking uncertain.

   “But what?”  Denny said, silently cursing his friend for putting a dampener on his, up to this point, unrestrained joy.

   “I’m sure this isn’t the case,” he said, “but if she decides she doesn’t want you there, and she looks into the whole exorcism thing...”

   “People can really do that?”  Denny said, horrified.

   “I’ve heard stories about all sorts, although they’re vague and only fifth or sixth hand.  I truly don’t know.  But hey, from what you’ve said and what I saw, she’s happy to have you there.” He grinned.  “It’s actually pretty cool, you getting to save the beautiful damsel in distress.  I’m a bit jealous.  I always saw myself as the hero type.”

   Denny smiled.  “Maybe you’ll get your turn.  You still haunting that cute barista at Costa?”

   “Oh yes,” he grinned, “I walk her to the bus stop every night.  Last night a guy tried to come on to her.  Seriously, a girl on her own late at night at a bus stop?  What a jerk.  Anyway, he was wearing this backpack...”

   Denny listened to Oliver gleefully tell him about the fun he’d had with bus stop jerk’s backpack with only half his concentration.  The rest was on Laila, which wasn’t unusual, but now he was worried.  What if she wasn’t as pleased about him being around as he’d thought?  He’d been convinced she was, but she was female and, despite his many relationships with many different women, he had yet to develop a clue as to how their minds really worked. It was a constant source of fascination, wonderment and exasperation to him.

She was late. 

   Denny anxiously paced the lobby.  Laila usually got home from the library at five, but it was already five-thirty and she wasn’t back.  A multitude of dire scenarios were bouncing around in his brain.  What if Avery had shown up and she was afraid to walk home?  What if he’d caught her on her own?  What if she was too scared to return because of Denny?  What if she never came back? 

   He stopped pacing to pound a fist against the barrier in frustration.  He wished Oliver was around so he could ask him to go and find her, but he hadn’t seen his friend since earlier in the afternoon when he stopped by on his way to the school. 

   “I hate being dead,” he shouted, kicking at the barrier then turning his back on it and storming away, as if he could somehow get some revenge by hurting its feelings. 

   He stared in annoyance at the lift for a while, arms folded, before sighing at how ridiculous he was being and turning back to the door. 

   His breath caught at the sight of Laila walking up the steps outside.  She was carrying two carrier bags, one very large and another, smaller.  Rushing forward and not caring if anyone saw, he pulled the door open as she reached it.  She stopped to look at the door for a moment then smiled and walked in.

   “Hello Denny,” she said.

   All the breath rushed out of his lungs. 

   “Hi,” he gasped, reaching out to touch her free hand.  She took hold of it immediately and his heart leapt for joy.  She was here.  She was
here
!

   “I’m sorry I’m late,” she said as they walked to the lift and waited for it to arrive. “I did a little shopping on my way home.”  She lifted the bags up as evidence as the lift arrived and they stepped in.  “You didn’t have to wait for me.  Were you there long?”

   He tapped her wrist twice then felt bad for lying.  He’d been there an hour.  He tapped her wrist again and she laughed. 

   “I see,” she said, grinning.  “Well, whether or not you were, I’m sorry.”

   He squeezed her hand.  He was so overjoyed she was back he didn’t care how long he’d been pacing in the lobby.

   As soon as they reached the flat, Laila emptied the bags onto the dining table. 

   “I’ve been thinking about you all day,” she said.  “I’ve been thinking about how for more than four years you haven’t really had anything that’s yours, that you could call your own, only being able to use other people’s things when they aren’t around.  And that made me sad.  So I thought of this.”  She turned a large box around to face them.  There was a picture of a laptop on the lid.  “It’s for you.  Your own computer.  So you can use it whenever you like and do whatever you want on it without feeling like you can’t or you need to ask.  It’s all yours.”

   Denny stared down at the box, stunned.  Reaching out, he slid it closer and pulled the lid open, removing the polystyrene packaging on top and running his hand across the matt black surface of the laptop he’d revealed.  His.  She had bought it for him.  Because she cared about him. 

   He looked at Laila’s face and she was smiling, hope and excitement shining in her eyes.  No force on earth could have held him back at that moment. He wrapped her in his arms and almost immediately she slid her arms around his waist.

   “Thank you,” he whispered, hardly able to speak. 

   He looked down at her face leaning against his chest, her eyes closed. 

   I need this woman, he thought.  I need her more than I’ve ever needed anything in my life, or my death.  She is everything to me.

   He wanted so much to kiss her.  For a few seconds he didn’t move, unable to think of anything other than sliding his fingers into her silky hair and cradling her head while he took her mouth in his.  He squeezed his eyes shut, concentrating on just breathing, then leaned his head down and kissed her forehead, a quick, light brush of his lips.  Her responding smile ignited a spreading warmth in his chest that made him wonder vaguely if he was glowing.

   “Um, I got you something else too,” she said, stepping away to pick up a small box from the table while his body ached from the loss of not having her pressed against him anymore.

  She held it up for him to see.

   “I got you a phone,” she said, “in case you need to contact me when I’m out or you want me to get you something.”  She dropped her eyes, looking shy.  “Or if you just want to say hello.  You can send me a text.”

   He took the box from her and opened it.

   “It doesn’t have a touch screen because I didn’t know if it would respond when you touched it,” she said.

   She was right, it wouldn’t.  He’d tried someone’s iPad once and it had resolutely ignored him.

   He went to grab the pad and pen he’d used that morning and wrote quickly. 

  
Thank you.  I can’t thank you enough.  You
 

   He stopped.  He’d been about to tell her she was incredible, but he didn’t want to scare her with thoughts that she was sharing her flat with a crazed ghost obsessed over her.  She was, but he didn’t want her to know that. 

  
It’s so much.  It must have cost you a lot.

   She had walked up next to him and was reading.  Denny was hyper aware of how close she was standing, her arm touching gently against his.  He thought it probably made it easier for her to feel him, gave her a certainty of where he was.  He had no complaints about that. 

   “I wanted to do it for you,” she said and shrugged. “I can afford it. It’s not like I ever spend my money on anything else.” 

   She took his hand and smiled. 

   “Let’s set it all up,” she said, pulling him back towards the table.

   An hour later Denny had a laptop, an email address and a Facebook profile and Laila was busy setting him up on Twitter.  When he pointed out that he didn’t really have anything interesting to tweet about she said, “Neither does anyone else,” which made him laugh.

   The intercom buzzer sounded and they both looked at it in surprise.  Laila didn’t get many visitors apart from Kelly and she always called first to let her know she was coming. 

   “Huh,” Laila said.  She went to answer the call.  “Hello?”

   She froze, looking scared, and Denny immediately went to her side, taking her hand.

   “I’m here,” he said. 

   She squeezed his fingers tight and held the receiver away from her ear so he could hear. 

   “What do you want, Avery?” she said, her voice cold.

   Denny was instantly gripped by a flush of anger.

   “I came to apologise,” Avery’s voice said from the intercom, “I was completely out of line last night.”

   “
Out of line?”
Denny said in disbelief.  “Is that what you call assault?” 

   “Fine,” Laila said, “you’ve apologised.  Now go away.”

   “No, babe, please.  I want to make it up to you.  Let me take you to dinner.”

   Laila put the receiver back onto its cradle.  “I can’t believe he’s serious!” she said. 

   “Me neither,” Denny replied.  The creep was beyond belief.

   The buzzer sounded again.  Laila grabbed the phone.  “Go away, Avery. I never want to see you again.”

   “I know you’re pissed and I deserve it.  But it would be stupid to throw away something special like we have over a little misjudgement on my part. Please, babe, just let me explain.”

   She put the phone down again.  “Special?  I only went out with him because I was lonely and he seemed nice.”  She ran one hand through her hair.  “How could I have been that stupid?  What should I do? He doesn’t sound like he’s going to go away.”

   Denny fetched the pad and pen. 

  
I’ll be right by your side, whatever you decide to do.  I won’t let him near you.

  
She smiled.  “Thank you.  I feel so much safer with you here.”

   He didn’t intend for his chest to puff out, it just happened by itself.  He tried to deflate it as Laila picked up the phone again.  

   “I’m coming down,” she said, “but just to make things clear for you.”  She didn’t wait for Avery’s reply. 

   “I’m scared,” she said, holding tightly onto his hand as they rode down in the lift together.  “Just don’t let go of my hand.  Okay?”

   He squeezed her fingers in what he hoped was an encouraging manner.

  “Unless you need to let it go to punch him.  That would be alright.”

   Denny smiled and tapped her wrist once.  If Avery came inside, he didn’t think he’d be able to stop himself from hitting him anyway.

   The lift door slid open and Laila drew herself up to her full height beside him, lifting her head. 

   “That bastard may have terrified me last night, but he’s not going to know that,” she stated, striding out into the lobby.

   Denny almost glowed with pride beside her.

   Avery was standing at the door, peering through the glass.  He was holding a bunch of chrysanthemums and smiling.  Denny was thrilled to see a large purple bruise on his face almost exactly the size of his fist. 

   “Hey, babe...” he began.

   “I’m going to say this once, so listen hard,” Laila said from behind the closed door before he could say anything more.  “I am not your ‘babe’ or your anything else.  What you did last night was inexcusable.  I don’t want to see you ever again.  Not here, not at the library, nowhere.  Leave me alone.  If I see you anywhere near me, I will call the police and tell them what happened and that you are stalking me.  Is that clear?”

   He looked uncertain.  “But we have a good thing going...”

   “We don’t have anything going.  Our dates were dull at best.  That is all.”

   His expression changed to anger as he used the chrysanthemums to gesticulate at her.  “You know what your problem is?” he snapped. “You’re a frigid bitch.”

   “My only problem is not seeing through you sooner,” she said.  “Goodbye, Avery.”

   She turned away and walked back to the lift.

   “Well, fuck you,” Avery shouted. 

   Denny looked back to see him fling the flowers at the door and turn and stomp away.

   They reached the lift which had remained on the ground floor and Denny hit the button for their floor as they walked in.  As soon as the doors closed, he heard Laila breathe out.  She slumped against his arm, still clutching his hand, her head down.

   “I did it,” she whispered, so softly he had to bend his head to hear her.  She lifted her face.  “I stood up to him.  I did it.” 

   She didn’t say anything more.

The next morning, Denny sat at the table looking at his new phone. 

   Laila was at work and he wanted to text her, not because he needed anything, just because he wanted to.  His fear was that she would think it was weird.  She had told him he could text her just to say hello, but it still felt odd.  With his girlfriends, he would text them without hesitation and they were always pleased to hear from him, but Laila wasn’t his girlfriend, at least not from her point of view.