Take a left, then another left. Take the next right after you see three cracked concrete slabs in a row. The cracks form the shape of a crucifix. Follow the road until you see the flickering neon sign, then take the next left. Look for the blue door with the symbol of an hourglass on it. Knock three times.
I check over the directions again, hoping they’ll change to a normal address. Are these even correct? Gosh, my handwriting is awful. I suppose the stereotype of doctors is true - either that or I was just in a rush. My watch shows the same slow moving hands pointing at the same numbers as the last fourteen times I’ve checked it. Stop checking the time. I pull my sleeve down over the watch while also covering up that awful mistake. I thought “Wherever the art of Medicine is loved, there is also a love of Humanity” tattooed circling my wrist was a golden idea at the time. It is so different to anything girls my age get - when in reality it’s not what you get at a dodgy unsanctioned tattoo parlour in Ibiza that you regret but getting the tattoo in the first place.
“Where shall I pull up darlin’?” My taxi driver snaps me out of my spiralling thought.
“Anywhere here is fine, cheers.” I point to the left. My driver pulls up, fiddles with his sticky handbrake a few times before pressing a seemingly arbitrary sequence into his taximeter.
“£14.50 please darlin’.” I pull out a £10 and £5 note and hand it over.
“Keep the change.” I regrettably say clambering out of the taxi.
The London smog mixed with an overcast sky weirdly feels fitting. Tinges of grey clouds reflecting off of greyer glass buildings is adding to my nervousness. It’s odd, I recognised so many streets as we drove, but I don’t think I’ve been to this area of Greenwich before. Actually, it's the sky that's greyer. Take a left. A left of the building I was dropped to takes me down a narrow alleyway of ripped bin bags and strange machinery attached to the walls spewing smoke. I can see a left turn approaching. Take another left. I look back down the alley.
This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.
Hey Kels, just walking to my interview now and it's super dodgy so going to send you my location in case I get murdered lol.
Send. I pop my phone back in my pocket and with a new lung-full of smoky air, I take another left. A similar sight to the last alley, rubbish strewn across the floor and more boarded up windows than glass ones. It hasn’t rained for a few days, yet the drains hanging off the roofs seem to be perpetually dripping. Take the next right after you see three cracked concrete slabs in a row. Shit, I’ve not been checking. A quick glance back at the intact slabs confirms I haven’t missed it, so I continue on scanning the floor like a human metal detector. I come across three cracks not long after and contort my head to look for the crucifix shape. Twenty yards ahead I see a right turn. Eh, I guess it does look a bit like a crucifix.
The road continues down as I pass neon sign after neon sign in perfect working order. This street seems to be some hidden back alley spot of creepy bars and God-knows what else. A classy flickering red neon sign that reads ‘XXX’ tells me I’m in the right spot. Then take the next left. Look out for the blue door with the symbol of an hourglass on it. The left turning takes me down an impossibly tight alley. The builders must have made a mistake and left off 6ft in the making because there is no way this lane is deliberate. Yet there are doors here, even though it doesn’t seem like they can open fully. My focus is partially on these doors and partially on trying not to twist my ankle walking along the most uneven path I’ve ever encountered.
There it is. A blue door, and a little white hourglass symbol on the top left corner. No sign, no windows. Odd. I check my watch. 3:59pm. Knock three times. Deep breath. I hold my fist up at the door… Wait, does knock three times mean knock three individual times or knock normally three separate times? Three loud thumps are bizarre and can easily be missed but knocking normally three times might make them seem like I’m the police or something. I check my watch again. 4:02pm. Shit.
“You must be Josephine.” I’m snapped out of another spiral by a warm smile of a middle aged woman standing at the now open blue door. I jerk my arm back down.
“Hi! Yes, no, hello uh… Sorry.” A sheepish chuckle escapes me. She continues to smile that disarming smile and raises her greying eyebrows at me with a subtle shake of the head. “Oh! Yes, sorry, I am Josephine yes. But please, Josie is fine.”.
“Come in, love.”.