If you missed part one you can find it here 

The door to the room was very slightly ajar. Brian frowned. Not like Annie to be slack about security. She locked the bathroom door behind her when she was the only one in the house. So for her to not close the door behind her - let alone not lock it - was unusual to say the least. 

Perhaps the lock was faulty. 

The motel was hardly top of the range. He couldn’t afford to take Annie to one of the “Boutique” hotel’s she’d spent time looking at before they went away, leaving the laptop open when she left a room. Hoping he would take the hint. He knew what she wanted: he wasn’t stupid. 

Just skint. 

Annie had already complained that the shower head wasn’t fixed correctly, that the bedside light wasn’t bright enough. The pool was dirty, the bed was uncomfortable. The walls were paper thin. He took a deep breath and braced himself for the complaints about the lack of security. He would be forced to go back to the bar and ask the grumpy barman to move rooms. Brian didn’t like making a fuss. Annie told him he had no backbone. Perhaps she was right. He just didn’t see how complaining all the time made life any brighter.

Perhaps the lock wasn’t broken. Perhaps she had left the door ajar on purpose. Perhaps she had hoped he would come back early, hop into bed. Brian felt a flutter of excitement overlap the anxiety.

“Annie?” he called as he pushed the door open. The curtains were drawn and it was gloomy inside. He didn’t want to put the light on. It would wake her if she was asleep. And ruin the mood if she was not. “Annie?”

No answer.

He stood in the doorway and blinked, hoping the rapid eyelid movement would somehow improve his eyesight.

“The door was open,” he said and took a step into the room. He wrinkled his nose at the smell of the place. Something else Annie had complained about when she’d walked in. 

“It smells of mildew,” she had said, casting her eye around the room. “I’ll be lucky if I don’t catch something here.”

There was a shape on the bed and for a moment Brian thought it was Annie, curled up under the covers. But it was in the wrong place. He patted the wall until he found the light switch and then blinked more as the light flickered on. The shape was Annie’s suitcase. It was open and half-packed. He felt his heart sink. Annie had unpacked the case when they had arrived - after she had cleaned the dust from the drawers. Clothes back in the suitcase could only mean one thing: she was leaving.

“Annie?” 

The bathroom door was closed and when Brian put his ear to it he could hear water running. He tapped lightly on the door.

“Annie? Are you alright?” No answer. He rapped on the door harder. Perhaps she couldn’t hear him above the sound of the water running. “Annie? Can I come in?” Annie didn’t answer. She must have the hump with him. Usually, if she was in the bathroom and he was “bothering her” she would tell him to “give me a bit of space, for heaven sake!” 

Brian sat down on the bed and stared at the bathroom door, waiting for it to open and for Annie to appear and to tell him what it was she wanted him to do.

Then he noticed water seeping under the closed door.

...

Written by Bruce Arbuckle (@felt.buzz), image taken by Bruce Arbuckle (@felt.buzz)