Lil Annie - Part 1

Annie lives on the top floor of the Adamfield block of flats, the closest of four towers next to the Brook Hill roundabout, sitting highest on the hill, looking out over the ring road and the city centre.

I barely have to wait after jabbing her number into the intercom before Annie's voice stutters from the speaker, telling me to come on up, and the distant tone tells me know to pull on the door. The lift judders its way skyward and I try to ignore the faint background linger of urine and disinfectant.

I raise my hand to knock and the door is flung wide open, crashing against the wall inside, before my knuckles can make contact with the wood.

Annie - tiny, beautiful Annie with her brilliant blue eyes and enormous smile - flings herself at me and grabs me in a powerful embrace, burying her head in my chest and squeezing for all she's worth. I wrap my knocking arm, my only free arm, around her shoulders and rest my cheek in the bed of thick ringlet curls that cascade from her head.

She smells like lemon drops and it briefly reminds me of my nan.

Finally, she lets go and belts me in the upper arm, deadening it. "Ow," I say, rubbing what will surely be a magnificent bruise.

"Where the hell have you been, Pynch?" she says with a scowl. "I haven't seen you in months."

"Yeah," I say. "Sorry… it’s not been a great year so far…"

"Well, come in," she says. "And you can tell me all about it." She turns and skips away into her flat. I follow and gently push the door closed behind me.

"Shoes!" she calls out from the other room - unnecessarily, as I am already stepping on my heels and kicking off my trainers. I follow her through to her living room where she is whirling around, her flowery print dress fanning out around her as she clears books and papers from her couch and leaves them in a tall stack in the centre of the room.

"I brought you a present," I say and proffer her the small package I have in my hand.

"Oh, wow!" she says with glee. "Should I open it now?"

"Either open it now or put it in the fridge," I tell her. She tears into the wrapping paper with gusto while I slip my jacket off and hang it on the corner of the door.

"Oh my gods!" she squeals. "Bacon!" And she darts away into the kitchen, packet in hand. "Thank you so much!" she calls out to me. "I can't even tell you how much I've missed bacon… Laurel won't let me buy meat. No meat of any kind…"

She comes back with two wine glasses dangling upside-down from between her fingers and a half-full bottle of wine, cork jammed in the neck.

"I know," I tell her as she passes me a glass. "I remember."

"But unsolicited gifts… she can't have a go at me for that!" She uncorks the bottle with a soft pop and generously fills my out-stretched glass before pouring some for herself. “It’s a loophole, and I love it.”

"How is Laurel?" I ask. We clink glasses together.

Annie puts a finger to her lips and points next door, through the wall. "Sleeping. Shh…"