Today is Tuesday.

By

Justine Engelbrecht
 
 
Chapter 1.
 
I can see her walking into the coffee shop across the street. This is not the first time. My chest begins to tighten in my throat; every time I see her, it’s like looking in the mirror from a distance.
​
After grabbing my coat, I close the heavy wooden front door shut behind me and run down the stairs. I hate that lift, the confined space, the tiny door, and that metal gate. One would think an apartment block like this would have a modern lift. Stepping outside into the cold, I catch my breath.

We are the same height, her hair is also long, dark, brown, and straight. Her blouse is a little too stiff and it is tucked into her pants which accentuating her waist, which I notice is the same size as mine. 

"May I have a coffee, please, black with no sugar?” I say to the young man behind the counter. As he hands me my coffee, I can see her in my peripheral vision. She is leaving. I can hear her boots clicking on the floor; my ears start to ring, and the swish of her coat as it brushes seems to sting my legs. Then she turns and waits; and looks directly at me.

Our blue eyes meet. Her lashes seem to be dancing and flickering, and she smiles, which creases her soft pink lips. I am forcing myself to smile back. I can feel my red lipstick cracking. 
I must leave; I can’t do this today; I am not ready. I lift my chin, and with a flick of my hair, I push past her. Tomorrow I will talk to her, but I must still get through today.


Chapter 2.

“It's freezing in the office,” I hear myself yelling at Edward again. “Put on the heater; why the hell is it off?” My throat is tightening again. I can see them in the office, watching me. For goodness’ sake, Rachel Tonkin. “What is it?” She is looking at me, smiling.  I like to imagine Rachel dead, today I throw the ashtray on my desk at her head across the room. I see it hurtling in the air, the light catching the green glass as it connects her temple, and she falls to the ground. I can see the blood as it starts surfacing out of the gash that would have severed the flesh towards her ear. 

​I feel laughter gurgling from my stomach, and I heard the sound as it left my mouth. "What's so funny, Lilly?" asked Edward. Has he lost his mind? I can see him—an empty shell of a man, nothing looking out from inside his body. Shaking my head, I tried to erase the picture of him as a zombie with his eyes gouged out. He turns and looks away, and as he leaves my office, he closes the door behind him, mumbling, "Bitch!"

I hate this place; I cannot carry on for much longer. "Emma, make sure the files for the budget meeting are ready by morning; otherwise, it's your funeral." I shout as I leave. Funny that she thinks I am joking. My palms start sweating. I am late today; it is already dark. I still need to get home.

​There are 80 steps to the bus stop, “one, two, three, four...” I always sit close to the door. I count 40 steps from the bus stop on the corner to the entrance, and 25 steps from the door to pass the lift. There are three sets of eight steps up to the second floor, and there are 19 steps from the lift to my front door.” My apartment is dark; I didn't leave a light on. "Dammit, I forgot,” I said aloud. “One, two, three, four, five”—my boots are clicking in my ears, and I can taste blood in my mouth. "Dammit." I bit my tongue, counting my steps.

“Shit!” Turning the key in my door, I use my shoulder to shove the door open. The wood is still swollen from that night the water was gushing from every pipe in the apartment. That idiot plumber, honestly no one does anything properly. I still think I may have killed him. I saw him floating, bloated, in the water, bobbing around from one side of the apartment to the other, tossing about as if he were in a wave. I cannot get the picture out of my head. But there wasn’t that much water, and I never saw a body after they cleaned up, so I more than likely imagined it. "I'm home."

I put the lights on and took out a bottle of Sauvignon Blanc. My fingers were encased over the cold metal of the bottle opener. "No, not tonight, not tonight!” I can hear my voice in my ears. "Okay, all lights go on; I am flicking switches before bed." I can feel the monsters waiting for me on the other side, but I can't keep my eyes open. There it is the darkness, falling over me like clouds crossing over the stars, putting them out one by one.

I can see her; her blue eyes are full of life. Mine are pale, there is nothing, no spark in mine. I am not sure I ever had a spark. She doesn't deserve to have a spark; I want hers.


Chapter 3.

The first light of the new day—I love it. The sun filters through my blinds; it catches every part of my room. I lie on the patches of light; it reminds me of something—a memory—a good memory. I try hard to hold on to it; as I know that when I get up, it will be gone. I cannot really touch it; it's not tangible nothing is anymore.

1 hour to exercise. 30 minutes to bathe. 1 hour to dress, and 15 minutes to eat and 15 minutes to watch and wait. Unless it's Tuesday. I bathe in hot water until I am weak. It's 6.30am.

The coffee feels warm. I made it a little stronger today; it's a new blend. I got it delivered to the apartment. I hate shopping and carrying bags up the stairs. I told Edward to get everything delivered on Tuesday. He doesn't forget. They come every Tuesday. On Tuesday, I don't go to the coffee shop. On Tuesday, I don’t go to the office.

On Tuesday, every Tuesday I stay home. “What the hell!" I can see her from my window. Her hair is blowing in the wind. She is wearing dark glasses today. Her black coat is over a blue dress. It's the same color as her eyes. “What the F?” She is waving at someone across the street. I can see him clearly.

He is tall. He is crossing the street; it's all happening too fast. He bends his head, she lifts her hands, and they cradle the side of his blonde head as she kisses him on the mouth. Shaking my head, I can feel it slamming from side to side. I am pulling my hair. “Okay, no time to lose control, Lilly.” 

I hear the front door open; I always leave it unlocked on a Tuesday. The delivery guy lets himself in. He is ready; I can see it on his face. His pupils are dilated already. I like it when he is completely naked. It takes 15 minutes. I don't kiss.

He loves Tuesday and he doesn't care that I don't care. He is perfect in that way, and I don't imagine him dead. I watch his caramel body. It has ripples on it; it glistens after, and he doesn't talk. When we finish, he leaves.

There is a blue dress in my cupboard. I change. I never do that. I put my black coat over it. I put on my heels. My legs are still shining from sweat. I leave it there; there isn’t time to waste.

"But today isn't like every other Tuesday, is it?" Dammit, I say way too loudly to the guy downstairs and head across the road to the coffee shop, forgetting to count my steps.

There she is, we are dressed identically, somehow, I feel surprised, even though I planned it. The blue dress: it feels alien on my skin. I want to rip it off and shove it down her throat. No, wrap it around her throat. I could strangle her with it; it would be easy. She is weaker than me. I am angry, she has crossed the line. 

I lift my chin and walk past them. I need to leave. She is looking at me. I walk past and order the coffee I don't want. Dammit the delivery guy is dropping off things behind the counter. He knows not to look at me, but he does glance at me; he seems confused. He knows I don't go out on Tuesday. I need to be more careful. I don't want to hurt him; it wasn't easy finding him.

I turn around and I look straight into her face, it could be my face. I can feel my mouth turn upward. My lips are stiff. I can hear her voice; it's the first time, and it’s soft. We have the same South London accent. She sounds nice. I want to be nice; she is perfect. I hear her saying my name, “Are you Lilly Jones, the attorney? " "Yes, I am, who is asking?" I say curtly. “I am Sophie, Sophie Mills.” “Can we, she gestures at the blonde man, chat with you? This is my brother-in-law, Simon.” I like him. But my head is hurting, I need to leave. I take my business card out of my coat pocket saying, "Contact my assistant Edward; he will make an appointment for you to come to my apartment."

I must remember to tell Edward; she must come alone for the first meeting. I begin pushing through the line of people waiting to order their coffee. I must get away. Simon shoves towards me as I got to the coffee shop door, pushing himself against me as if he was wanting to say something. I looked up into his face and took my knife out of my coat pocket. His eyes were grey; they didn't twinkle like hers. I like him. As he opened his large mouth, I lifted my hand quickly and drove my knife into his throat. His dark red blood was throbbing out in tiny gushes, and he started to fall. There were people pushing and shoving all around us.

The apartment feels too far away, there are 18 steps from the door to the crossing, it takes 45 steps to cross the street, then 10 more steps to the apartment door, and 25 steps from the door to pass the lift. There are three sets of eight steps up to the second floor and my front door is 19 steps from the lift to my door. I am now running I can hear my heels; they are stampeding in my ears; my legs are pounding. I fall towards the ground but catch myself. There is hooting, and a loud screech of sliding tyres. I hear someone shouting. I cannot look back. 
I am back in my apartment; it seems it was a false alarm. Looking out the window. I don’t see any police vehicles and I can't hear any sirens; I am still wearing the blue dress, and my coat was thrown over the armchair.



Chapter 4.

The chancellor announces, “And the overall top performer for the LLB class of 2017 goes to Lilly Jones." He continues, "It is with great honour that we award Lilly with the 'Vice Chancellor and Presidents Medal' for outstanding undergraduate academic achievement.”
I can still hear them laughing; it is so loud that it plays back to me like the sound of nails scratching on a cardboard box. I put my hands over my ears. I play it back in my mind often.

There I was in a new long black dress that fit like a glove, with that bloody graduation gown over me. Its band was too high, but it kept slipping. I was squashed between two people in my class that I didn’t know.  Getting up when I hear my name I felt it. Someone grabbed the back of my band as I got up, pulling me backwards towards them, they let go and the band slipped up to my throat, while my gown went sideways as I stepped forward and my heel caught the bottom of my ankle length dress. Everyone heard the fabric rip. My gown slipped off my shoulders and the band was by this time strangling my throat, and the front of my dress was ripped way too high.

As always, there was no one there for me; no family arrived. Sometimes I imagine I killed them, and that's why they couldn’t make it. I never went to the stage that Tuesday; I carried on walking. I never got to feel proud. The laughter grew louder and louder. I still hear it. Sometimes I hear it coming up out of the drains, and it brings the darkness with it.



Chapter 5.

My hands are wet; I look down; there is blood everywhere. I am confused. “Is this real? Is it real this time?” I say it aloud. I start screaming, but I put my hand over my mouth. If it’s real, I should be very quiet. I know that I have a plan; it’s coming back to me. I needed to kill Sophie so that she could be dead Lilly. I cannot live being Lilly Jones any longer. My mother always used to say, “Lilly, what’s wrong with you? Your hair is fine. You look fine. You don’t need to be perfect all the time." I didn’t kill them; they forgot about me when I finished school. They don’t even know I graduated. My certificate is in my office; the university sent it to me after graduation. 

I look up at Sophie; she is hanging in the middle of my bedroom, her head slumping to one side. Her dark, straight hair is kinking from the sweat and the struggle. She has my blue dress on. I have her blue dress on. There is blood on the sides of her mouth. Her lips are stained with blood. She looks like me. She is me now. She is Lilly now; she is dead Lilly now. The delivery guy will find her on Tuesday. I am sorry for him; he will find me dead.

Brushing my hair, I grab her handbag, it has everything I need in it. I know where she lives; I followed her home once. I whisper, “Goodbye, Lilly.” Leaving without counting steps.



Chapter 6.

“Hello, is this Edward, it's Sophie Mills speaking," I say softly. "Morning, Sophie, how can I help you?” he asks. “I would like to make another appointment to see Lilly Jones please. Remember, you arranged for her to see me last month?" “I am so sorry Mam, um, Sophie,” said Edward.

“Lilly Jones died a few weeks ago," he paused then added, "We had a small funeral, um, she killed herself. Not surprising," he added. 'Can I put you in touch with the other partner, Rachel Tonkin?” “I am very sorry, no, it’s okay, thank you.” I put down the phone. “That bastard!” I had to make the call, though. It was the final thing left to do.

I can hear my voice; it is softer than before. I also prefer pale pink lipstick. The apartment I am now living in looks over the Thames, and I prefer the view. It's on the other side of the embankment and I can see the Uber ferry and watch people getting on and off throughout the day. I have moved my desk to face the large window.

I wrap my tongue often around my new name, “So -phie.” Every day is Tuesday now, as I am working from home preparing digital strategies for large corporations. Simon, the tall blonde man with the grey eyes is now my brother-in-law. Sophie had not slept with him yet. So, he has no expectations.  Sophie came to chat with me about the accident her parents and sister were all killed in, it was a horrific hit-and-run car crash. It’s why she needed a good attorney, there is a lot of money on the line. I just need to find an attorney as ruthless as Lilly.

I remember Sophie, just before she died. She looked at me, and said in a cracked voice, "We could be twins, you and I." She understood. Then she closed her eyes, her body swaying, blood dripping from her mouth and her head hanging to one side like a broken rag doll.

They took her to the mortuary; Edward identified her as Lilly Jones. There was a small funeral. It was attended by people from the office and an old couple I believe were my parents, and the delivery guy. I was also there in my car, watching from a distance. 

Lilly was so bright and clever. I even told Simon that when I had met her, she was sharp witted and very bright. I believed we had a great case with her on our side, it was a pity that she was now dead. 

I went to the shelter and got a cat; he is a lovely tortoiseshell. It has been years since I had a pet; I named him ‘Jones’.

Looking out of the window, I realise it’s Tuesday; Simon should be here soon. Anything can happen.



The end. 




Justine is a Johannesburg based content writer, copywriter and creative writer. She has a BA HONS TLI in Theory of Literature, and a BA CWR in Creative Writing. She has recently published a collection of poems Two Willows on Amazon KDP.   Previously she has published a children’s study guide, children’s stories. Justine is the previous founding publishing editor of Brides Essence Magazine and TravelmagSA and has worked on various digital and print publications during her career.  She assists businesses with their individual writing needs, working remotely from home. In her spare time, she is working on a fiction Novel, a Memoir as well as dabbling in some Flash Fiction.