Maggie lets the phone ring and doesn’t answer.
Whoever it is calls three more times without leaving a message.
She is sure it is Aimee calling. It’s as though Maggie knows it. She holds the three smallest fingers of her left hand inside her right and squeezes them hard, until they hurt.
The ringing starts again. The caller has perhaps thought of something to say now, and Maggie leans right down, until her face is next to the answerphone, her ear turned and tuned to the little speaker. Pleasure ripples through her entire body when she hears that beautiful voice coming out of the machine; it’s like a song she’s missed hearing.
“Hello, my name is Aimee. I wonder if you could give me a call back…”
Maggie listens to the whole message thirteen times. She turns her face to kiss the phone, leaving red lipstick all over it, and starts to moan a little, as though the sound of the voice in the recording is caressing her in return. Giving the girl elocution lessons might not have been her idea, but it was a good one.
She pictures Aimee’s face crinkling with confusion, dripping in disbelief. She is tempted to return the call, but she knows that she mustn’t. She’d be willing to bet that Aimee will come to find her now, and the odds of that happening soon are quite high. She just needs to wait a little while longer. Some conversations are better had in person.