Lifted

The only other occupant of the elevator was a girl with choppy dark ahir, who stood in the opposite corer, her dreamy blue eyes far away. She didn't appear to notice me as I stepped in.

"Which floor are you going to?" I asked.

She tilted her head just a little. "Up. Maybe 14."

Quickly, I prodded the button for floor 14, while the girl returned to her doll-like face.

The elevator jerked into action, the door clunking shut with a dull thud, before crawling upwards rather jumpily.

I suppressed a yawn as I set my bag down on the floor: my motorbike was parked on the ground floor.

The girl – who was about 17, I'd guess – scratched absent-mindedly at her wrist, still staring into space.

Now I was closer to her, I could see how tiny she was: no taller than 5 feet, slim, and rather cute. She dressed nicely, wearing a simple black dress that complimented her figure, causing it to look more shapely.

All of a sudden, the elevator clunked to a sudden stop.

I cursed internally – Maria was going to be annoyed if I was late home.

The girl looked a little shaken, I noticed, as I dug my fingernails into the crack between the elevator doors to try to prise them apart, to no hope. Instead, I located the emergency phone.

The girl sort of crumpled to the floor, hitting her head on the metal wall as she did so. Abandoning the phone, I sunk down to my knees to carefully cradle her head in my hands. Almost immediately, her eyes snapped open, while a light blush began to creep onto her face. She made a soft noise in her throat, and I sat her up gently, supporting her with my arm. As if it were the most natural thing in the world, she leant into me, apparently taking comfort in my presence.

"How's your head?" I asked.

A soft smile flickered upon her perfect lips. "It's OK."

"Do you know why you fainted?"

The half-smile melted from her mouth, and her now-wide eyes flickered around the elevator.

"You're claustrophobic?" I guessed.

She gave a tiny nod.

"Focus on something else," I recommended.

Intently, she stared almost unblinkingly into my eyes. Hers were a gorgeous blue – sparkling with energy.

"That's better," she murmured.

I gave her an encouraging smile, and stood up to use the phone.

"Do you know what 'egress' is?" the girl asked.

I shook my head.

"It means 'exit'," she informed me.

"And what language is that?"

She paused. "English."

I mentally banged my head against the wall, but instead picked up he receiver and patiently waited for someone to pick up.

'Hello?'

"Hey. The elevator's broken down."

'Have you tried opening the doors?'

"Yes."

I heard the man call 'get my screwdriver' over his shoulder. 'Are you OK in there? How many are there?'

"Two. We still have all our limbs."

There was a bang on his side of the phone. 'OW! OK, apparently, a hammer was not a suitable replacement for a screwdriver in this instance…'

"Knowledge is that a tomato is a fruit. Wisdom is not putting one in a fruit salad," I muttered, irritated.

'My mommy says I'm special,' he defended, before slamming the phone down.

I groaned as I replaced the phone into it's box.

"When do we get out of here?" the girl asked.

"When that guy switches shifts."

I sat down next to my dark-haired companion. "What's your name?"

"Alice."

"Alice, you have a beep on your nose."

"What?"

I reached over and pinched her little nose. "BEEP."

She giggled. "What's your name, beepers?"

"Jasper."

"That's such a cool name," she said, enviously.

"Shame I don't have a matching personality."

"Well, everyone thinks I'm a good little girl. It's so annoying."

"A good girl is a bad girl who's never been caught."

"I like to leave messages before the beep," she admitted.

"Ooh, you rebel."

"I don't mind this, you," she said.

"We might be here overnight – this block shuts at six."

"I'll call the guy," she said, standing up to lift the phone. "Hello, the elevator's broken down…" Pause. "Yes, the other person is very mean." Pause. "Yes, I'm sure that you're special." Pause. "Seek help." She slammed the phone down.

"So, what time are we getting out?" I asked, innocently.

She didn't even dignify my question with an answer. "We're here for the night."

I pulled out my phone and located a signal, before quickly finding Maria's number and calling it.

'Jazzy?'

"Hey, Marie. I'm stuck in an elevator, darlin'. I won't be home tonight. Sorry."

'Jazz…" she muttered, irritated.

"I miss you, if that helps."

She grumbled a little. 'Did you pick up my order?'

"Yes, darlin'."

'Thank you. See you in the morning, then.'

"Sweet dreams, darlin'."

She hung up.

"Do you want to call anyone?" I asked Alice.

She shrugged, trying to get more comfortable.

Hit with a brainwave, I pulled my backpack over, and emptied the contents onto the floor: Maria's new bedding, my leather jacket, six bottles of beer, a folder full of work, a couple of old newspapers, and the remains of my lunch.

Alice stole the apple that rolled her way.

"Hungry?" I observed.

She shrugged, sinking her little white teeth into the red skin.

The light in the elevator went off.

A small hand found mine in the dark, and I stroked the back of it with my thumb to reassure her. I felt her other hand brush against my knee as it scuttled around to find something, then I saw the soft, blueish light of my phone screen light up. She used it to search through her shoulder bag, eventually bringing out a wind-up torch, which she pressed on and set between us, letting the soft light illuminate the elevator.

Keeping an eye on Alice, I started winding it up purely for something to do.

They, whoever they were, had clearly turned off the heating in the building: it was getting rather chilly, and the metal elevator conducted that chill. I took out my keys and snatched up a bottle of beer and, with a way so smooth it was blatantly obvious that I had been doing this for years, I popped the top off.

Alice gave me a funny look as she nibbled on the apple.

Yes, she was rather cute, both physically and mentally: pixie-like, and with a downright adorable personality.

Why did I have to be with Maria?

I groaned aloud, causing Alice to give me an even queerer look. I took a gulp of beer to avoid her stare… Nope, she's still staring…

I started searching for my cigarettes in my jacket pocket, as the pack had some gum in it: I was trying to quit.

"You know what I hate?" Alice asked, quite suddenly.

"What?"

"Smoking." Uh, oh. "I was in an elevator once, and this guy just lit up! I mean, it was a contained space, there were kids there, too…"

"I agree," I said, "coz if a person wants to smoke, then fine, but their choice shouldn't affect others."

She raised an eyebrow, but nodded.

I did hope that she couldn't see my cigarettes… that weren't in my pocket anymore. I looked up, and she shook the packet at me.

"I'm quitting," I said, immediately.

She seemed amused with me, but shivered.

I passed her my jacket, which she gratefully wrapped around her thin shoulders. It was weird seeing her in leather, but it made her even cuter: the jacket was the same glossy black of her choppy hair, and it was huge on her.

I took another gulp of beer, while she searched around in her bag for the wad of work that she pulled out: mainly drawings of clothing. The outlines of the people were very basic, but the clothing was highly detailed. I stole one of her notebooks to flick through.

"I can't draw people," she admitted.

I shuffled around to sit behind her, rested the notebook on her knee, and sketched out a simple but more realistically-proportioned person.

She turned her head to look at me. "You draw?"

I shrugged modestly.

She gave me an A4 notebook. "Show me."

I stole her pencil and drew the rough outline of Alice's body as she sat now: cross-legged on the floor. My drawing made her look even more pixie-like: perfect little chin, lively eyes, cute nose… with a final flourish, I signed it at the bottom.

Alice took it, and her eyes turned from surprise to scrutinising. It made me nervous to see her judging my work, but the little smile that tugged upon the corners of her mouth gave her away. "This feels like Titanic."

"Want to make it entirely like Titanic," I offered, half-joking.

"It'll be cold," she reminded me.

"If that's your only worry…" I said, indicating the new bedding in the corner.

She tilted her head a little, apparently thinking. "'Kay."

"Seriously?" I checked.

Alice nodded, and shrugged out of my jacket, while I unpacked the duvet and blankets. I laid the duvet out on the floor, and positioned the blankets for her to lean on.

When I looked up, she was there in just her underwear. This was definitely the oddest moment of my life, no contest. Feeling the heat creep up my face, I quickly looked down and found a fresh page in the notebook.

I heard her sit down on the duvet, and once she had stopped moving, I peeped at her, barely containing a gasp.

She was gorgeous. Her skin was creamy, flawless and pale, but not veiny. It looked smooth as silk. Her body was slim, yet perfectly curved. She was breath taking, exquisite.

She clicked her tongue impatiently, and I shook myself out of my blatant ogling, focussing on drawing her outline, before adding in the more intricate lines and details. It was hard to take my eyes off her long enough to transfer the image of her beautiful body to the paper.

"Can we talk?" asked Alice, a little shyly.

"Talk away."

"Do you draw professionally?"

"Nope. Just when I have time." I smudged the lines of her lips carefully.

"Am I looking pretty?"

"Gorgeous." I shaded in her iris's, trying to recreate the sparkle of them.

She tilted her head slightly, causing a stray lock of hair to drop in front of her eye.

I carefully drew it in, as it caused her face to look softer and therefore even more precious. I moved down to the slender, seemingly long limbs that were her legs. They had a very slight curve of soft muscle. Her feet were small, and she had three toe-rings on.

"How much longer?" she inquired, with not a hint of impatience.

"Not long," I told her. "Why?"

"Bit cold is all."

I tried to add in the soft shadows as quickly but accurately as possible.

She shivered, and I could clearly see the goosebumps appear on her body.

"Done," I murmured, as I just added the finishing touches.

She eagerly wrapped one of the blankets around herself.

I raised a questioning eyebrow.

"You try wearing that dress," she grumbled.

"I'd really rather not."

Reaching over, she stole my beer and took a long drink.

I passed her the drawing and reclaimed my beer.

She smiled as she observed it, before announcing, "Your turn!"

I do confess that I spluttered. "No."

Her perfect lips sunk into an adorable pout.

"No," I repeated, more forcibly.

She sighed. "I'll just have to imagine, then…"

I grinned at her dreamy expression: it did wonders for my ego.

She flipped over to a clean page in her notebook, and started sketching.

I tried to sneak a peak, but she had it angled so that if I tried to look at it, it would look like I was trying to look at her body. Defeated, I opened another beer.

After an hour of silence, she closed her notebook and tried to take my beer, but I held it away. "Show me."

She pushed her closed notebook along the floor to me, and I quickly flicked through to her sketch. It was of me and her… kissing. I had never seen anything so intimate. "So, you can't draw people, huh?" I teased.

She shrugged shyly.

There was a long, awkward silence.

"Can I have your shirt?" she asked, suddenly.

I blinked.

"You heard."

Slightly unwillingly, I unbuttoned my shirt and passed it to her. She slid it onto her shoulders and buttoned it up. Meanwhile, I shuffled to sit on the duvet with her. She led down, wrapped up in her blanket, facing me. I took this as an invitation to lie down also.

"What's your best pick-up line?" she inquired.

"Hmm… well, if kisses were snowflakes, I'd send you a blizzard."

"Have you got a map? Coz I think I just got lost in your eyes…" she whispered, half-whispered, dreamily.

"Alice," I breathed, so that she had to lean in to hear me, "if beauty was a raindrop, you would be the ocean."

"Jasper, did it hurt… when you fell out of heaven?"

"Alice…" I whispered. Her lips parted just a little as she listened intently. "Is that a ladder in your tights, or a stairway to heaven?"

She hit me. "That's horrible!"

"Well, if you come and sit on my knee, we can talk about the first thing that pops up…" I said, wiggling my eyebrows.

"Eew!" she covered her ears.

Ah, success.

My cellphone beeped, indicating a message.

I opened it, and then wished that I hadn't.

Alice stole my phone. "Why… who?"

"That would be Maria."

"Does she often send you… photos of her like… that?"

"She's trying to mark her territory without pissing," I explained.

Alice didn't look impressed.

Change of subject, change of subject… "Is there beer in heaven?"

Alice shrugged. "What's your dream car?"

"I prefer bikes," I informed her. "I'd love a gorgeous old Harley. You?"

"Guess."

"Something sporty."

"Oh, yes."

"Ferraris are too showy. Astons are a bit butch… Jags are too serious. A… Lambo? A nice Gallardo?"

"They are pretty, but…"

"Porsche, then."

She beamed. "911 Turbo in yellow."

I rolled my eyes.

"It's healthy to have a dream," she told me, her voice full of wisdom.

"I'm sure it is," I replied.

She shifted her hand to prop herself up better. "Don't you have a dream?"

"Not a steady one: I'm not sure what I want."

"Well, my dream's to get married to a good man, have some kids, have a successful careers, and truthfully say at the end of it that I've had a good life."

"I don't even know if I want to get married," I admitted: the prospect sometime seemed wonderful, but at other times seemed so stupid and restricting.

She was gazing at me far too intently for my liking: it made me feel exposed and embarrassed.

I opened another beer.

"Personally, I like the feeling of commitment," Alice informed me.

"I like it too, but I have slight trust issues."

"Oh, same, but once I trust someone, I'm theirs forever."

"And how many people do you trust?" I inquired.

"Four: my parents, my brother, and my sister-in-law."

"So there's no lucky non-family fella?"

"Nope, not yet."

"And how do you get to trust someone?"

"I go with my instincts. If I instantly distrust someone, then that's it. If they're OK, then I'll delve deeper, and check their reactions to things, and stuff."

"And what do your instincts tell you about me?" I asked her.

"Good things."

I smiled at her.

She yawned, and snuggled up in her blankets, eyes closed.

I quickly finished my beer. "Flashlight on or off?" I asked her, quietly.

"Off's OK," she whispered back.

As soon as I clicked it off, I felt her small, warm form cuddle up to me, as if I were her security blanket. I felt her breathe in my scent, and exhale softly, while she tugged my arms around her comfortably.

And that was how we stayed for the rest of the night.

-0-0-0-

The pale light in the elevator switching on awoke me. As I raised my arm to check my watch, I glanced down at Alice. Her spiky hair looked no different, I noticed, with a smile. 8.32am. Great.

The elevator jumped into action, causing Alice to wake with a start.

Even as I inwardly laughed at her confusion, it dawned on me what anyone finding us like this would think.

"Clothes… dressed…" I muttered.

Alice quickly removed my shirt and returned it to me, while she hunted around for her dress.

I slid my shirt on, and set to putting the blankets and beer bottles back into my bag.

We reached the top floor, and just as the door opened slowly, I saw Alice's black tights in the corner. I moved to hide them from view as five grumpy-looking people stepped in.

"Bye, Jasper," Alice whispered, as she stepped out.

I could only openly gape as the doors slid shut. "Alice…"

I would find her later, I decided. If I couldn't physically find her, then I would look her up in the company files. Then it hit me: I didn't even know her surname. But I would find her. I couldn't not find her. But where did that leave the now-shallow relationship between Maria and myself? I felt more of a connection with Alice than I had ever with Maria. Surely that said something?

When I thought about Alice, I felt hope.