Stuart James - Apartment 6

Meagan leant in, placing her arms around her mother. ‘I hate my daddy.’

‘Meagan, don’t say things you don’t mean.’

‘I do, Mummy. He’s just like Jimmy Mertock at school, picking on the girls. Jimmy tried to kiss me once. He’s all spotty.’

Tricia laughed, wincing with pain, and laid her head back on the pillow.

‘Mummy, why do all the ugly boys try to kiss me?’

Tricia ran her hand through her daughter’s hair. ‘Baby, you have to kiss many frogs before you find your prince.’

‘So why not just go straight for the prince, Mummy?’

‘You know something, I’ve never thought of that.’

Meagan joined Sarah downstairs in the living room, listening to her father slam doors and stomp around the house like a petulant child.

Sarah looked up while combing the doll’s hair. ‘Is your mummy okay?’

‘She’s fine. Daddy burnt her on Sunday, and now she’s not well.’

Sarah’s eyes widened. ‘How?’

‘I’d rather not talk about it.’ She looked at the doll in Sarah’s hands. ‘You’ve done a very nice job. She’ll really find a prince looking like that.’

The living room door burst open and Sean walked in, instructing Meagan it was time for Sarah to leave.

‘Daddy, she’s only just come. Can’t we have a little more time? Please, Daddy.’

‘I said Sarah needs to leave.’

Sarah stood, wiping the creases from her skirt. ‘Thanks for having me. I enjoyed being here.’

Meagan sniggered at how polite her friend sounded.

‘Off you go now, we’ll see you soon,’ Sean instructed.

Meagan lifted herself off the ground. ‘Daddy, you need to walk her across the road.’

‘She’s big enough to do it herself, Meagan. Off you go, Sarah.’

Meagan watched her father, shocked at how dismissive he was. As Sarah left the room, Sean walked up the stairs and into the spare room at the back of the house.

‘I’m sorry, Sarah. I can come with you, if you want? I hate my daddy.’

‘It’s fine. I’ll be okay. I’ll see you soon, if you like.’

Meagan walked to the front door with Sarah and stood there until her friend had made it home.

A few seconds later, Sarah’s father came barging out of their house, charging across the road.

Meagan quickly shut the front door, feeling guilty about the incident with her friend.

The doorbell rang, causing Meagan to jump. ‘Daddy, someone’s at the door. Daddy.’

‘I heard you the first time.’ Sean went downstairs.

He opened the door and found Mr Tunney standing with his fists clenched. ‘Don’t ever do that again.’

‘Do what?’

‘You bloody well know. Letting my daughter walk home on her own. You of all people, being a father yourself.’

‘I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’ve been upstairs the whole time. I didn’t even know Sarah was here.’

Mr Tunney looked towards Meagan. ‘Is this true?’

Sean moved forward. ‘Don’t bring her into it. I suggest you communicate better with your child and arrange collection in future. As I said, I’ve been upstairs the whole time.’

Meagan and her father watched Mr Tunney turn on his heels and walk out of their front garden.

Meagan went to the front window in the living room, thinking how sad she felt for Sarah and Mr Tunney. She was also shocked and angry that her father could stand at the door and tell such lies.

Oliver had barely slept. He was lying in bed, his head was cloudy, and his eyes struggled to focus as he glanced around his bedroom. He stared at the alarm clock: 6.53am.

He lay, scanning the ceiling, his body cold and clammy. He’d been awake for hours, pondering the responsibility on his shoulders.

Rob was returning from Spain early this afternoon. Oliver planned to break into apartment six this evening. He had to be patient, let Rob settle. Meagan had told him her husband suffered whenever he came home from abroad. The drugs, alcohol and God knows whatever else he put in his body would knock him out. It would make Oliver’s job much more manageable. He’d sleep for hours; his tiredness always got the better of him.

Oliver was worried sick, unable to comprehend the task ahead. He had to go through with it, make it happen. Then I can be with Meagan. That’s all I want.

In the kitchen he made a coffee and sat at the table. In the distance, he glimpsed the Shard and the River Thames.

He sat in complete silence.

There were so many things that could go wrong. He feared being seen walking up the communal stairs, a neighbour confronting him, firing questions. He was worried about the guy that Meagan had seen, the man in gloves who’d questioned Oliver outside the building. Meagan had acted ridiculously, trying to help, witnessing this person’s brutality and putting herself in such a precarious situation.

It seemed she was surrounded by wicked men.

Whatever had gone on in that building, the body in the bath wasn’t Oliver’s responsibility.

He also worried that Rob would get the better of him, struggle free, then what?

He wanted to message Meagan, but they’d decided not to communicate until it was over. They couldn’t risk leaving a trail.

Oliver sat in the kitchen, sipping his coffee, wishing it was this time tomorrow and it was all over.

After Oliver finished his coffee, he showered, dressed and left his apartment. He planned on going to work to take his mind off the task, to keep busy, try and act as normal as possible, avoid suspicion. He wanted to see Meagan, hold her, tell her everything would be okay, that it was all in hand, plain sailing and straightforward. But would it be that simple? So many things could go wrong.

They’d agreed that meeting up at the station may jeopardise their plan; they couldn’t risk being seen together, now that Oliver knew what Meagan wanted him to do.

He passed the crowds of people on the way to the station; men and women in suits, blurred figures, mobiles balancing on their shoulders pressed to their ears, loud voices, briefcases swinging – just another day.

Oliver struggled to concentrate. His head was rushing with thoughts, his body aching with anticipation.

As he got to the station, he waited on the platform, too frightened to look around in case Meagan was there.

Once he reached the office, he got his head down and threw himself into his work.

It was late morning when Meagan’s phone alerted her of a message; a short, one sentence text.

Getting on the plane, see you in a couple of hours. Rob.

Meagan felt weak, uncertain she could go through with it, but the plan was in action, and she had little choice. This was the first step to her new life. It had to be done.

She switched off her phone, because she feared Rob would use some app to locate her, quickly dressed and left apartment six.

She walked along the King’s Road fighting the paranoia, certain that people were staring, watching her, judging. She crossed the road, entering the same coffee shop where she’d met Sarah a few weeks ago.

It was busy. There was a queue of people standing impatiently waiting to order, tourists planning their day, office staff getting a quick caffeine hit at the end of the busy morning.

A waitress greeted her, furiously wiping a stubborn stain from the edge of a table, her finger pushed into a J-cloth. ‘Hi. You want to take a seat?’

Meagan shook her head, her mind going into overdrive. Maybe she knows. Why did she ask me the question and not anyone else? Singling me out and not the others? As Meagan watched the waitress move behind her, she fought a helpless feeling as she reached into her handbag. She was considering calling Oliver, telling him to forget they’d ever met.