Chapter 3

Evie sighed ‘Young people indeed. I’m thirty five’ she muttered to herself. She pulled herself together enough to finish her breakfast. She had a reasonably feasible plan, but she now needed to start putting into action. She did not know how to begin this, but assumed that it would not be too difficult. She just needed something to do for the day to pass some more time and to look for somewhere guaranteed to be quiet for a good period of time, if she was thinking about doing something that could seem a little dodgy.

Today was starting to look like a sunny day, plus since most people were not going to be at work meant that people will be driving for day trips to the woods, hills and beaches to walk or take their families, so not good options for a quite life. Since it was the weekend, she assumed that builders would not be working. Perhaps a nearby housing development would be a good option if she could find one on a map.

After a while of checking, she found a recent enough aerial image of a large building site about ten kilometers to the east. She had a good amount of petrol now, so if this turned out to be gated or if contractors were working on site, she could keep looking for other options.

She turned the engine back on, plugged her phone in again and left the layby. Driving onwards she felt a strange sensation of happiness. This was the first time in all the weeks she had been trapped in her car, in which some semblance of a future had emerged to her or at least some level of control within her life. She turned the radio from talking back to pop music and continued passing through the maze of roundabouts leading further from the town and into the countryside.

With some more luck, she saw no gates nor vans as she drove towards the building site. The roads had been tarmacked and the mostly constructed houses provided a good barrier from being viewed from the road.

Driving along the estate, the foreman’s office was clearly closed. No lights on and nothing parked outside the front. To make the hiding places better, most of the houses had garages and only a couple had folding doors installed. She could park up in one until dawn at least.

She came to a stop, feeling the security of three walls around here and paused. ‘Now what?’ came a little voice within her head.

Evie unplugged her phone and with trepidation chewed at her fingernails and browsed the internet looking for a website she could join. She found nothing which was able to facilitate food or other donations, but most seemed to allow payments to go directly into her bank account, which was what she really needed right now.

She found one site, with an additional app, which seemed professionally designed and easy to use. It allowed multiple payment options, subscriptions, content purchases and direct online payments to the users accounts. She chose the option to join up as a creator.

She skipped through the pages of disclaimers, skim reading a few points about liability and payments deducted by the site. Nothing seemed particularly untowards. Eventually getting to the login page.

She signed up through a newly created email address and began filling in her details. She was not used to this process and always hated creating personal accounts whenever she made them in the past. She especially found it difficult to write about her current personal situation without coming across as weird or troubled.

Hair. blonde (greasy, tangled and frizzy were not options).

Height. five foot six (at least if i could stand up or stretch out).

Weight. one-sixty (an unknowable variable).

Favorite food. Drive-through burgers. (it's really Spicy food, but it’s not easy to get the good stuff served from a drive-in).

Hobbies. Driving, reading (masterbating in car parks at 2AM until I fall asleep).

Favorite clothes. Skinny jeans and revealing shirts (They weren't when i put them on last month).

She sighed, disappointed at how unappealing it made her sound. But maybe people did not bother to even read them. This was all new to her. She kept mulling over her profile until it sounded like she was a reasonably functional human, without resorting to outright lies. Finally a username. She chewed her fingernails more, thinking. 'FeedingMissDaisy.' Urgh, a bit classist. 'RoadHog.' She grimaced at her own thoughts. 'DinersDriveInsAndDesire.' No... Not blonde enough for that.

'CarpoolCompanion '. That's... subtle. I can probably pass this off as a late night date themed account.' She thought. 'If I set the camera in the passenger seat and talk to it, like the viewer is there. It could be passed off as a quirky gimmick rather than an admission of dysfunctionality.'

She positioned her phone up high for a selfie. She felt that objectively She looked hideous. Greasy skin, witch-like hair, stains on her shirt. Plus the car light dash light beaming in the dark garage was beyond unflattering. Sighing, she put the phone down.

"Damn. This is no good." She muttered.

Without letting herself feel too dejected, she decided to do a car inventory. The backseat was disgusting. The footwells filled with rubbish. Apart from secretly throwing out her makeshift toilets into ditches, she couldn't bear to litter too much and it had built up. 'Too smelly and gross to help.' She thought.

On the back seat was the jacket She had been using for a blanket and a full water plastic water bottle wrapped in socks for a pillow. 'Nothing useful here.'

She crawled through the center aisle into the back seat and squeezed her way over the seats to rummage through the boot. A box of paperwork, more litter, an empty bin bag and a first aid box. She knew there was nothing there, but still needed to check.

‘Bin bag.’ She thought. ‘Black and shiny.’ She pulled it out and pressed it against her chest, with a half hearted smile. She had an idea, it was a bit trampy, but this was the only material she had access to, without ripping apart the upholstery and using the seat covers.

In the back seat, she undressed. The shirt was easy enough, just unbutton and slip it off. The jeans were trickier, but she had a routine. Curl up on her back and peel them off, trying not to kick the roof too much, wiggling. Eventually she lay there in her bra and knickers, with her ghostly white, hairy legs sticking up in the air.

She wriggled back through the aisle into the passenger seat, holding the bin bag. She noticed that without her clothes on for support that her body jiggled in a lot more places than it used to.

In the front seat, she opened the dashboard, pulled out a biro and took the lid off. The lid edge was just sharp enough to cut through the weak bin liner. It was time to see if she had enough skills to make a dress which could possibly be considered sexy, if she managed to control the lighting enough to hide the truth.