Rita gazed up into the darkness, she could just about make out the round bowl of the glass light shade in the centre of the room. She was still talking, she seemed to have been talking for hours, though she couldn't quite remember what it was that she had found to talk about...and now, as she lay here listening to the change in Connie's breathing, she had the feeling that she was repeating herself.

She paused. Next to her Connie lay curled up onto her side, facing her. Even in her sleep she looked so neat. She was so still, and so small, her hair tucked perfectly behind one ear, her hands folded beneath her cheek against the soft white feather pillow.

Rita yawned, her jaw ached with the movement and her eyes watered. She hadn't slept yet, her face felt sweaty and already the room was beginning to take on the odd cool grey light of early morning.

She rolled over and shifted herself ever so carefully so that she could face Connie in the bed. She bought her knees up and blinked, trying to force her eyes to adjust to the dark.

She could just about make out Connie's face. Her skin was a luminous pale grey, her freckles dark against her cheeks and across the narrow ridge of her nose. Her lips were slightly parted showing the glint of her teeth, and every now and then the whisper of a frown would crease her forehead and her eyelids would flutter.

Rita watched her, wide eyed despite the tiredness that caused her head to throb. Never before had she had cause to be so close to this other woman, and she wondered how many others had had the chance to see her this way, so exposed, so beautiful...so completely stripped of all the barriers that she kept so well maintained. Her face was free of make-up, and asleep, she took on an almost ethereal innocence that made Rita's fingers ache to touch her.

She closed her eyes. She tried to think about what had happened to them that night, but try as she might the thoughts wouldn't come. It was like thinking about space, and the fact that it was expanding...the stars slowly moving, as if shattering away from one another in slow motion...

And then she was opening her eyes. Sunshine shone through the fabric of the curtains casting lemon yellow patches of light dancing across the walls. She stretched, she couldn't remember falling asleep...She glanced over to the other side of the bed. Connie was gone. She slipped a hand across the cushion, feeling the soft dip of where her head had been. It was cold, and the duvet had been carefully tucked back into place.

All of a sudden Rita felt a wave of embarrassment. Connie had been awake and had moved about in this room whilst she had slept the sleep of the dead. She had made her side of the bed, ready for tonight, and still Rita hadn't stirred. Had she snored or dribbled, she wondered? She felt her ears begin to burn and she kicked the covers from herself, feeling the cool autumn air prickle her body, sending goosebumps up and down her arms.

Once she was out of bed she caught sight of herself in the full length mirror by the door. She hadn't noticed it the night before. But there she was, staring back at herself, her hair tufted up on one side where she had slept on it, her eyes smudged with the mascara that she hadn't quite managed to get off the night before, and her eyes puffy from lack of sleep. She sighed, and for a moment she felt sorry for the mirror, as ridiculous as it was, she imagined it's life, forever showing back the reflection of Connie Beauchamp, only now to be forced to show this...her.

She ran her hands through her hair in a feeble attempt to tame her hair, and turned away from the mirror, this time making her way out onto the landing.

Out here the sunlight billowed in through the arched window above the stairs, the walls gleamed white and she had to blink against the glare of the glass as she walked down the stairs to the guest room where she had left her belongings.

Inside the small room she dressed, and gathered the pyjamas she had worn, taking them downstairs to the kitchen so that she could find the washing machine.

She paused as she entered the now familiar kitchen, with only a quick glance to the now closed door to the office. The house was silent, and she knew even before she spied the note next to the kettle, that Connie wasn't there.

She pushed the clothes into the washing machine by the sink and reached for the note. It was a page torn from the A4 pad in the office, she recognised the scribble in the top corner.

Rita,

Your shift has been taken care of.

Help yourself to tea, coffee, and breakfast.

I will be home by 1.

Should you be gone by then, please double check that the front door is locked when you leave.

Connie.

The older woman's handwriting was looped and slanted dramatically to the right, her name written quickly and beautifully at the end, but it was Rita's own name, written by Connie's hand that caused her to smile, and the offer of breakfast that had her opening the door to the fridge.

More soon. Just a quick update for tonight as I had a message specifically asking for one :) I aim to please! Anyway, in the next update I will have Rita confiding in Dixie about what happened, and Rita continues to notice the little things about Connie which seem to make her all the more flustered...

As always, give me your thoughts and opinions, your reviews always make me smile :) Thank you in advance! xxx