Courier by Zoe Rosi

Author:Zoe Rosi [Rosi, Zoe]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2024-01-30T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Fifteen

Over a few pints of Guinness, I sign the lease. And then, on the way home, I delete the delivery app.

Just like that. Gone. Uninstalled.

My last payment has already come through so it’s not like they even need my bank details.

So, I delete everything. And that whole chapter of my life is over. Lost in the ether, like it never happened at all.

It’s laughable, and yet I don’t laugh. In fact, my stomach squirms.

Why did I ever tolerate such meaninglessness?

When I get home, my black beanie hat and sunglasses that I keep by the front door for work catch my eye and I find them revolting. Utterly revolting. Offensive.

I pick up the glasses, and in a moment that feels not quite real, a little performative, and yet satisfying nonetheless, I snap them, clean in two, right across the bridge. And then, because I can, I break the arms off. And snap each of them in two as well. And then I laugh. A bitter, wild laugh, and I pop the bits of sunglasses into my hat and toss the whole lot in the bin.

Over. Done. Just like that.

In the following days, I get in touch with my old stockists and start placing orders. Boxes of crystals, sticks of rock, dreamcatchers, postcards, all the usual stuff. I buy fairy lights, garlands of plastic ivy, little mirrors in the shapes of stars and moons. Even fake flowers. Nicer stuff than I had before, girlier. I want to make the shop pretty, more Gwyneth Paltrow and less Uri Gellar. I want you to like it, Natalie.

I go to a stockist in Brighton and get box upon box of seaside tat, haggling the vendor down.

It helps that I have my van. I deposit boxes at the shop, as well as the old stock that’s been cluttering my flat for years. Maybe I kept it for a reason, for this moment.

The shop isn’t what it used to be. It’s a bit run down, but I can restore it to its former glory with a bit of DIY. I just need to give the walls a lick of paint, put in a new carpet.

All I think about is the shop, I can’t stop thinking about it. It’s like my heart’s been reanimated, reinvigorated, and some dark cloud that I didn’t even fully realise was hanging over me has lifted.

I get so swept up in preparing for the re-opening that I forget to go on your Facebook page. Not completely. I still look at it a few times a day, but not like before. It’s not that I’ve forgotten about you, Natalie. Of course not. You’re part of my fantasies.

As I inspect boxes of snow globes and crystals, I imagine you popping into the shop, browsing, having a chat, kissing me over the counter. I imagine a life for us, in which we’re both happier, fulfilled. You, getting out and about again. Me, with my business.

It’s almost like Nathaniel’s death has set us both free. It’s like some horrible curse has been lifted.

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