After breakfast Janna goes to her room and busies herself with choosing her outfit for the day. I can hear her singing Twinkle Twinkle Little Star. It’s usually quite a long process since she has very definite ideas about what she wants to wear. Quickly, I take my phone and type in a message for Konstantin.

I consider erasing the last part. Maybe it makes me sound too desperate. I don’t even know what would be the cool thing to say after a weekend away. I don’t want to come across as clingy. At the same time I want to be real. In the end I leave it in. I want him to know how I feel about him. I want to see him again, desperately.

After I click Send remorse sets in.

It’s been so long since I dated anyone. What if I’ve just sent him running in the opposite direction? I didn’t hear from him last night, which, if I am honest, surprised me. After our incredible weekend together the least he could have done was send a little goodnight text. Even so, I didn’t want to crowd him, so I purposely waited until this morning.

Cindy’s advice would help, but she’s at her mom’s place.

I scowl at my phone until Janna appears at the doorway in her blue Frozen costume, sparkly tiara, pink socks and a pair of yellow sandals.

“Does my bum look big in this?” she asks.

“What?” I ask with a surprised laugh.

“Does my bum look big in this?” she repeats, turning to give me a view of her small bum.

“No, it doesn’t. It looks very cute, as a matter of fact.”

“You will tell me if it does,” she says, coming into the room.

“Of course,” I say with a laugh.

“Okay,” she says happily.

“Where did you hear the thing about the bum?”

“Marie asked Aunty Cindy while we were out shopping.”

Marie is one of Cindy’s friends. “I see.”

“What are we doing today?”

“Well, since we did a lot of going out last week, I thought we could stay in for a change and do some flashcards and reading.”

She pushes her bottom lip out. “Do we have to?”

“Yes, we do, but while I’m doing the laundry and the ironing you can do some painting. Maybe you can paint some ponies. How bout dat, huh?”

She grins and nods eagerly.

* * *

Janna and I spend an hour with her sight word flashcards. Afterwards, while I get on with the laundry, cleaning, and ironing, she creates three masterpieces with her fingers. Leaving them to dry on the kitchen table I run the bath for her.

By the time she is washed and dressed, Konstantin still hasn’t responded to my message. I stare at my phone willing a reply from him to magically appear in my inbox.

Disappointed and sad, I finish getting ready for work, drop Janna off at Bertha’s and take the tube to the casino.

* * *

Barely able to think of anything else, I keep checking my phone throughout my shift. Even though he has not called and he told me he would be away for a few days, I still automatically look for him under the portico as I leave the casino, but his tall fit body hidden in a finely cut suit is not there. I know sending him another text when he has not answered my other two just reeks of desperation, I can’t help myself. As I walk to the bus stop I compose a text.

How’s your trip going so far? I just had a great night at work.

I frown. That looks too boring. I add another couple of lines.

How’s your trip going so far? I just had a great night at work. Well, not exactly great, but not terrible either. Tell me about you.

Before I can change my mind I send it.

I arrive home without a reply to any of my messages. After collecting Janna, I change out of my clothes, splash cool water on my face, brush my teeth, and slip into bed, but I can’t sleep.

I’m physically exhausted from the long day, but my thoughts won’t calm down. The heat between us. The sizzling jolts of electricity every time we touched. The hungry, desperate way he made love to me after I found him on the table. None of it makes sense in the light of this sudden, unexplained silence. I keep seeing him, looking utterly lost in the light filtering in through the window.

I sit up suddenly and hug my knees, certain that something is terribly wrong. What if something has happened to him to make it impossible for him to send me a reply? He could be hurt. Or dead.

I shove my mind away from the last possibility, which is obviously a ridiculous, hysterical thought. He’s probably just out of cell range. Another part of my brain chimes in: or a jerk.

I pace my bedroom floor.

Of course, it’s entirely possible that he got exactly what he wanted from me—a weekend of no strings attached sex—and has now gone on his merry way. Guys like a conquest, right?

The idea doesn’t infuriate me to righteous anger the way it should. It sinks me into a deep, miserable hole. I really like this guy. Janna likes him. If he disappears on us, I’ll be heartbroken.