Chapter 2 Apt 201-2

Iris

I took a final look around my room. How had I not noticed how few of the things here were mine? The room looked untouched after I had taken all my belongings. There were no blank spots on the wall; the dresser looked as it had when I first entered the room. It was depressing. I sighed, made sure the clothes I was wearing were my own, and wheeled my suitcases out of the room.

“Miss Iris?” I turned around in the hallway and smiled.

“Miranda,” I said as our head maid approached. She looked at my bags.

“Last-minute trip? You should have asked for help. Shall I make you something for the road?” she asked.

“No, Miranda. I’m moving out. Or my father is throwing me out. I’m not sure which,” I told her. She gasped.

“No! He wouldn’t,” she said. I smiled again. Miranda was the warmth in an otherwise cold household. She was the one who would make me soup when I was sick, who had comforted me on my first day at school, who had listened to me rambling about my first crush and all other parts of my life. I realised that out of everything I had in this modern castle, it was Miranda I would miss the most.

“He has. Would it be okay if I gave you a hug before I go?” I asked. We hadn’t hugged each other since I was a child. She opened her arms and I hugged her tight. “Thank you. For everything,” I told her. As we drew apart, she dabbed her eyes.

“Give him a couple of days and he will rethink things,” she said. I shook my head.

“Not this time. This is too big.”

“If you say so, Miss. If you need something, you will call me,” she told me. I nodded, but knew I could never do so. If my dad found out she helped me, he would fire her. She needed this work; she had children and a disabled husband.

“Still here?” My father walked out of his office.

“I was just saying goodbye to Miranda. Do you want to inspect my luggage?” I asked him. “I don’t want you to think I’m stealing from you.”

“Miss!” Miranda gasped. My father glared at me, then at my suitcases.

“No need. It’s not like I won’t be able to find you if I discover you’ve taken something you shouldn’t have,” he replied.

“Mr Heartman!” Poor Miranda was getting one shock after another.

“Take care, Miranda. I will miss you most of all,” I told her, gave her a smile, and wheeled my bags to the private lift that would take me down to the lobby. As I stood outside the building, looking at the busy traffic, I felt lost. What was I to do? I sighed. Time to get a grip. What was the first thing I needed to do? I needed to find a place to live. Not around here. I had some money saved, but it would run out in a week if I tried to find a place to live here. No, I needed to be frugal. I looked at the two bags. I really didn’t want to drag them on the train. I put my hand in my pocket to find my phone. I realised it was back at the apartment and no longer mine.

“Do you need help, Miss?” the doorman asked. He must have seen my confusion.

“Oh, Malcolm. Yes, could you get a cab for me?” I asked.

“Of course, Miss Heartman. Right away. Would you wait inside?” he asked. I looked into the entrance of the building.

“No, thank you. I think I will wait right here,” I told him. He nodded, pulled out his phone, and placed the order. It must have seemed strange to him that I wasn’t using one of my father’s cars and drivers, but he was good at his job and didn’t ask.

“It will be five minutes, Miss,” he said.

“Thank you.” I waited until a cab pulled up to the kerb. Malcolm walked over to it and confirmed it was the right one. Then he and the cab driver loaded my bags, and I got in the car.

“Airport?” the cab driver asked in broken English.

“No. I would like to find a hotel, as cheap as possible,” I told him.

“Cheap hotel?” he asked. I nodded.

“The cheaper, the better.”

“You are sure, Miss? Cheap hotels are not nice.” I smiled at him.

“It’s just for now. Cheap is all I can afford,” I told him.

“I take you to cheap, but good. Not great, but good.”

“Thank you.” I relaxed back and watched the city. The cab took me from the centre of the city with its high-end boutiques and expensive apartments, to the outskirts where the buildings were smaller and in worse condition. He stopped outside a four-storey building.

“This hotel cheap, but good. Drivers sleep here,” he told me.

“Thank you,” I said again, without understanding what drivers he was talking about. “How much for the ride?” I asked.

“No money. You save money and get apartment,” he told me.

“No, no. I have money; I can’t let you do that,” I objected. He smiled at me.

“I have daughter your age. If she needed help, I hope someone would help. I will help another father’s daughter,” he told me.

“You are a good man. Thank you. I promise I will pay it forward to someone else.” He looked happy and nodded. He helped me get my bags out of the boot of the car and shook my hand before he left. I watched as he drove off and wondered what the kind man would say if he knew it was my father who had put me in this position. I looked around to get my bearings.

I was standing right outside the hotel; it looked rundown but not shabby. To the left was the road to the city. I could see a secondhand store, some smaller shops with fruit stalls outside, and a restaurant and cafe with a couple of tables on the pavement. I looked the other way and I understood what the cab driver had talked about. On the other side of the hotel was a huge area with parked trucks. It had to be some kind of central hub for truckers. That was what he had meant when he said drivers used the hotel. Well, I guessed that meant the standards would be decent. At least, that was what I was hoping for. No time to stand around. I needed to get myself a room and then I could begin to plan what to do next. I grabbed my suitcases and turned to walk into the hotel, bouncing against something that made a surprised sound.