Sangian: Returning
Alan Dean
Sangian: Returning
Copyright Alan Dean 2012
Smashwords Edition
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The Park
It was the same as any other night, he walked alone down the same wet, dreary street. The orange glow of urban pollution sparkled in the falling raindrops that hid the relentless sameness of the office blocks, warehouses and apartments that colonized the dreary, inanimate habitat surrounding his thirty-something life. Hands in pockets he trudged carelessly through the rain, his mind elsewhere, daydreaming exotic possibilities into being like some psychic conjurer. He’d left the pub an hour ago. It was only ten minutes from home but he couldn’t face going back there. The garbage-strewn alleyway, dark staircase and old, worn room offered nothing that was any better than the street. Out among the inner city masses there was always something new to see, or at least a different slant on an old theme, an argument that didn’t end in bloodshed, or drunken apologies that didn’t involve oaths of lifetime friendship.
He crossed the main road and moved away from the trails of people making their ways to and fro between pubs, clubs and dark, dismal homes flashed into life by flickering televised images of gaudy promises and sad lives. As they passed by some chatted excitedly as they weaved a dishonest path into a new relationship, but others trudged in solemn lines of sullen acceptance as the evening drew to a close with only their ordinary life beckoning.
He needed to get away from the endless concrete. The park always gave refuge, so as he had done so many more times than he cared to remember, he squeezed in through broken park gates and melted into the shadows. It was unsafe, a place to fear, he knew that, but the quietness always brought him back there, to the only place he knew where the hum of traffic was momentarily swallowed by the trees. And if he squeezed his eyes half closed the never ending light pollution could be twisted into some exotic sunset.
He walked quickly, more quickly than he’d intended and so it was only a few precious minutes before it was over and he came out on the other side. He stopped in surprise. Reluctant to see it end so soon he moved back into the shelter of the trees and leaned against a wall. Once it had been the boundary of a kitchen garden, but that was in the old days, when the park had been someone’s garden. Now there was only garbage and graffiti drawing a kind of boundary between the garden that was and the metropolitan sprawl slowly consuming everything that had gone before. Each rusted tin and aimless scrawl stood as a testimony to waste and disregard, talentless incursions blotting out anything of beauty. Ben rested comfortably against the wall and decided to wait until the last remnants of the night’s drinking had drifted past.
Eventually the street fell silent and he made to move, to head back across the park and claim a few hours sleep before the drudgery of minimum wage labor began yet again. He stood and stretched, making sure he remained inside the shadow of the branches above. It was then he saw the figure. He had almost missed it, but the light from one of the street lamps reflected off something they were wearing or carrying. They were climbing down a fire escape on the side of a block of apartments directly opposite. There was something in the way they moved that suggested furtiveness. He felt a tingle of excitement; it was something new. He would call the police. He imagined all the lights and sirens. The questions he would have detailed answers to ran through his head like the lines of a play script. He would be the center of something, and he would be late for work tomorrow too, bound to be, but they would all understand.
He stepped forwards out of the shadows and felt in a pocket for his phone. He knew he’d have to hurry because they had nearly reached the ground, but he wasn’t quick enough, in the time he took to switch the phone on they had reached the ground, leapt the garden gate and headed directly towards him. He felt a pang of fear. They must have seen him, he thought.
Ben edged his way deeper into the shadows. He wasn’t brave, not physically anyway, he reminded himself, as though one form of bravery somehow made up for the absence of others. He let the phone slip back into his pocket. He held his breath as they approached the edge of the park, hoping upon hope that they would turn aside and walk off in another direction. Alas for him that didn’t happen, instead they paused and looked up and down the street. It was then he could make out that it was only a young woman. Suddenly he was brave. It was just a young girl. He edged yet further back into the shadows, but this time for a different purpose. The prey mind gave way to the predators. He would catch her himself, become the hero, a champion against crime. There would be a reward and even some fame. He knew there would be, all he had to do was wait and then pounce.
He watched her carefully, every move captured like a slow-motion film. She reached the edge of the park and checked the street once more before stepping into the bushes that formed a natural barrier around the pretense of open space. She began to walk towards him.
Ben’s heart started beating so loudly he was sure she would hear it. The thought made him sweat with anxiety. She continued towards him until she got to within a yard or two of where he stood. He was nervous, fear flickered on the edge of his resolve, but he didn’t move. He could see her clearly despite the lack of light. His eyes had got used to the dark. He could see her face, her smooth, clear skin. Flawless, like it had never seen the sun. She was only a foot or so from him. He knew she would have to see him; that she must have done so already. He knew he had to act or his moment of glory would pass by forever.
Pulse racing he stepped forward. She stopped, but didn’t look at him. She continued facing the way she’d been walking as though it was something else she’d stopped for, not a strange man on a deserted path in a darkened park, but something more usual, something not in the least threatening. Her manner disquieted him. He needed some show of fear to bolster him, and its absence sucked away his resolve. He stopped and waited in confusion for something to happen, for her to run so he could give chase and overpower her.
The girl turned her head slowly and looked straight at him. Bright sparkling almond-shaped eyes held his gaze and a flicker of somewhere long distant found its way through his defenses. He let his eyes drop. He’d not meant to, he knew it was a sign of failure, of weakness, but she was stronger than he was. He could sense that, and he feared that even his gesture of submission would not end what he had started. But no blows came. No sharp stab of pain. He looked up again hopefully. Perhaps she was smiling. Maybe it was something else she wanted, but she’d gone and the path was empty.
Encounter
The café was busy, busier than Holly had ever known at that time of the evening. Usually everyone had gone by the time she arrived; shoppers home to gather their trophies around them and count coup for the day, workers to the pub and tourists to long queues outside expensive theatres so they could say they had seen it; to be able to share their views of how it was, after all, just like the critics said, or didn’t say. Collecting memories like hard shopped for commodities. Tonight, though, to Holly’s hardly hidden disgust, they were all there taking up her space, cluttering her life.
She turned to go, but caught the eye of a young Asian looking women sitting behind the door. Holly never looked at strangers, there was too little time and too much to do. There was no point either. They were always the same shoppers idling away the hours, business types shouting into phones about the irresistibly irrelevant, or, even worse, the tourists who never knew where they were. Holly ignored them all. She painted, drank wine with friends when she could afford to, had loved Toby before he died, and spent her time dreaming about some other life she could almost touch but never describe. This other life, the one that was brighter than a dream but no more real. That was her world, one with no strangers and nothing new. This time, though, these eyes crept into her. Caught her mid-thought and held her.
The young women smiled as though she could hear her thoughts. Holly held back and carried on walking back towards the door. The stranger’s eyes flicked to one side in an obvious gesture. Holly followed them instinctively. There was an empty seat she’d not seen. She looked back to acknowledge the gesture but the stranger had already looked away and was staring down at her cup. Holly hesitated. She felt awkward. She wanted to smile, but it wasn’t possible. She smiled anyway, to herself, a reminder that she wasn’t always right.
Awkwardly she eased herself towards the empty seat and sat down gratefully. Her stomach intruded again for no reason, in reality it was still as flat as ever, but in her mind it was huge and obvious and made her self-conscious. She believed that everyone could see, that people had started to look at her differently, that her personal space had shrunk somehow as invisible barriers had been lowered without her permission. It was as though she’d become public property, and she could do nothing about it. She guessed that was the reason behind the look, the unexpected attention.
The thought made her look up instinctively to check, but the stranger was still staring down at her cup. Holly appraised her with the artist’s glance. She could see that she wasn’t really Asian after all, not in any conventional sense; it was the eyes that had tricked her. She looked Chinese, or Korean, or something, but different somehow, maybe someone from one of those remote eastern European tribes she’d once read about. Lost in thought she stared longer than she should have, and, like they always did when she pondered a new face, the stranger looked up. Being able to steal herself into someone else’s thoughts like that was her particular curse, and for an artist it was also a major inconvenience. She blushed at being caught out, but had the courage not to look away. The women smiled. She smiled back.
Respite
Beth stepped off the train at Watersmead. It had been empty and so was the platform. That was usual, people seldom travelled out that far early evening, either they were already at home or they had stayed on in the city until later. Watersmead was too remote to be able to travel home after work for a quick change before a night out, and there was nothing close by to entertain, to draw people out, not even a pub. There was no reason to be there except to sleep, eat, watch television and enjoy the affectation of being able to say you were closer to nature. It was a place of solitude. Beth had chosen it for that reason. No village in any real sense, and no pub for miles meant no social life. No getting to know anyone. No questions, just privacy. It could be lonely but it was necessary.
She walked slowly out of the station into the unlit, secluded lane. At first there was only blackness, and then slowly her eyes adjusted from the glare of the white, shapeless light on the train. The world around her gradually turned from black to the pale, soothing, ghostly of glow of the moon. She closed her eyes and imagined snow, a cold refreshing wind and mountains. She knew it was almost time; Holly would soon be back with them.
She reached the footpath that led away from the road and crossed several fields before passing close to their house. Caleb would be waiting, and she hoped Eve would be there already. The others had long since left. They were missed, but she knew they were waiting for when it was over and she could go back. When their fears wouldn’t change what needed to be done. She turned onto the footpath, and once away from the road and any chance of being seen from a passing car she began to run. It was a few moments of freedom from the tight, modern mind-world of the city. She breathed deeply in the moonlit air and ran as fast as she could through the still night.
Opening
Holly pushed open the door of her third floor apartment. It’d taken longer than usual to walk the mile or so home. She’d kept looking round to see if ‘almond eyes’ was following her. It was mad to think so, she knew that, she’d left the café even before Holly had ordered. Straight away, straight after she’d smiled. No, even as she was smiling, as quickly as that, as though she’d been waiting for that moment so she could leave. Like in a play, exactly on cue. Holly knew she needed to get out more. At least get out of her mind once in a while. Being creative full-time wasn’t all it was cracked up to be, she now knew. It was becoming more and more like holding a rainbow in her head, trying to circle it to find the pot of gold while at the same time keeping it perfectly in perspective with all the colors flawlessly represented. It was obsessive and sometimes far too introverted.
She began to hum. Only stopping when the radio was safely on and she could focus on routine tales of conflict, strife, cruelty and trivia. It distracted her. The voice of minds gone mad in their quest to explain everything, but it helped. She talked to the various news readers and reporters as they cycled by in their given moments of significance; their flashlight second of wisdom. She stalked them with endless criticism, letting the words bounce around the otherwise empty apartment: It’s not like that. You don’t know that. We can’t know that. You’re guessing. You must think I’m stupid. In the end it always got to be too much. She snapped the switch off. Only to flick it back on again when the silence sounded worse.
The phone rang. It made her jump. She hadn’t sold anything for a long time and that meant she had no money so she had no social life and therefore it seldom stirred. She’d got used to not making plans. Not with others anyway, just with herself, her painting, the radio and her stomach, first only with pangs of hunger to occupy her but now also with the invisible signs of a growing baby. This was a new rhythm to blend with. She hesitated, wondering if it would be worth it, and then grabbed the receiver.
‘Hi.’
‘Holly?’
‘Joan, hi’
‘Hi. What you up to?’
‘When?’
‘Er, well, just wondered how you were.’
The hopes hidden until that moment crashed. She hadn’t realized but she had hoped for more, that it would be somebody doing something who had thought to ask her to a dinner party, or the pub, anything rather than another night in. She wished she’d never answered. However long it took she knew that when she put the phone down she would feel even more alone than before. Not for long, but for long enough.
‘Hey, Hol, you still there?’
‘Er, yes, sorry, just doing something. What did you say?’
‘You sound distracted.’
‘Sorry. I’m fine. I’m ... .’
‘So you’re in then?’
‘Er, yes. I’m not some kind of weird voice mail.’
‘No, I … I mean you’re in tonight, now?’
‘Er, probably.’
‘Good. Can I come over?’
‘Over here?’
‘Yes. Is that a problem?’
Holly looked round the room. It was clean but disorganized. Paintings, paint, canvases and everything all scattered about everywhere. She was in the middle of something; she didn’t want to move anything.
‘No, well it’s a bit of a mess. I’m working on something, it’s all over the place.’
‘I don’t mind.’
Joan sounded needy. Holly wondered why she always left it until then to phone.
‘I can’t move anything. It’ll be … you know.’
‘I’ll bring some wine.’
Holly sighed silently. She would be lucky to get a glass. If Joan was depressed she would drink it in the first ten minutes and then fidget for hours because there was nothing left.
‘Okay, but bring two bottles.
Joan’s tone relaxed. ‘Thanks Hol, I’ll bring three.’
‘What time?’
‘Ten minutes.’
‘What? Where are you?’
‘By the bus stop. I’ve ordered some Chinese. It’ll be ready in a minute.’
‘Cheek.’
‘We can stuff ourselves and get drunk.’
Holly laughed. ‘Okay, that sounds good, but … no, never mind. Buzz me when you get downstairs.’
‘Brilliant. See you in a mo.’
The phone went dead and Holly grinned to herself: ‘Wine. Awesome.’ She knew, though, that she wouldn’t actually drink any, well maybe a sip, to remember what it was like.
She tidied away several sketches and a half-finished, never to be completed painting to make room to sit down, Joan was fussy like that, and then the buzzer sounded from downstairs.
‘Hi, come up.’
Joan ran up the stairs. They hugged and Holly bustled her into the flat.
‘It’s so good to see you.’
‘I know. Sorry, you know what it’s like. Takes hours getting to work and back I just don’t ... .’
Holly had heard it all before. She’d even used the same excuses herself in days gone by. The city was really a lot of small villages. Not of places but people, little groups keeping to themselves. It was a place full of mini-communities overlaying each other invisibly side-by-side in the same physical spaces. And Holly didn’t fit with Joan’s friends; they’d tried that, it didn’t work.
‘No worries.’ Holly said. ‘I know what it’s like.’
‘Used to maybe.’ Joan replied, and then regretted it. It was too ambiguous. ‘I mean before, you know, before you … .’
‘Packed it all in to become a waster?’
Joan froze a little inside. She’d hoped they’d side-step the awkwardness long enough for the wine to kick in. ‘I was teasing.’
Holly felt the resentment race headlong into place ready to begin the arguments all over again. She grabbed it just in time and held it tightly long enough to turn away and take the food into the kitchen. ‘I’ll serve it up. You open the wine.’ She left Joan taking off her jacket by the still open door.
‘Shit.’ Joan took a deep breath, hung the jacket on the stand, closed the door slowly to gain time and then followed Holly into the kitchen. ‘I got some good stuff this time.’
‘Thanks.’
Holly silently served out the food. Joan poured two large glasses of cold white wine and handed one to Holly. ‘Your favorite.’
Holly sipped. Her eyes brightened and she picked up the bottle to look at the label. ‘Thanks.’ She sipped again, long and slowly. ‘It’s good, really good. Haven’t had any for ages.’
‘I remembered this time.’ Joan felt pleased with herself. She’d been going to buy red like she always did but then realized that it’d matter more to Holly than to her. ‘There’re two more.’
‘Wow, okay, put them in the fridge.’ She sniffed and Joan saw her eyes glisten before she turned away and busied herself with the plates.
Joan opened the fridge and clanked the bottles into place. ‘I’m glad I came.’
‘Don’t mind me, I’m getting too used to being on my own. You took me by surprise.’ She handed Joan one of the plates. ‘Let’s go through.’
Joan followed her into the living cum dining room, hating herself for having wished when she was paying that she’d bought red after all.
She squeezed in next to Holly on the narrow settee. ‘So what’s new?’
‘Baby’s growing.’
Joan cringed in horror and looked down at her plate to hide her expression. Holly wasn’t yet showing and she’d forgotten. Wrapped up in her own problems she hadn’t given it a thought for weeks. ‘Good. I didn’t want to ask, you know, in case … .’
‘That’s okay. I’d never not have … .’
‘I know. I should have ... .’
‘You’re busy. And in trouble too … ?’ She looked closely at Joan. ‘I can see that.’
‘I’m such a cow.’
‘I know.’
Joan stopped eating and stared at the floor. She wanted to blurt it all out but knew she shouldn’t. She switched tracks. ‘Should you be drinking?’
‘No. Well, just this bit, half of it anyway. Well, less even.’ She smiled brightly. It made her whole face sparkle in a way that caught Joan by surprise.
‘Don’t look so happy about it, that wine cost me a fortune.’
Holly touched her stomach. ‘She’s not that keen though.’
Joan couldn’t remember if she’d ever seen anyone that happy. She looked down again, this time out of embarrassment. She’d thought she was doing Holly a favor by turning up unexpectedly. She felt stupid and selfish.
‘I hadn’t remembered.’ The words sounded like they were coming from someone else. ‘I came here because of me.’
‘I know. It doesn’t matter. I like seeing you.’
‘I’m such a selfish cow.’
‘Not always, you weren’t always like that, when we were little. You’re just … all that trendy stuff. It kind of takes you over I guess.’
‘I always seem so busy. Work and more work, and then being out all the time. I have to though, it’s work, what’s expected. And what else is there anyway? You can’t just sit at home watching TV all the time.’ And then she remembered that Holly did just that. She didn’t ever go out, not anymore. ‘Sorry.’
‘Sorry? Don’t be. I’m fine, mostly anyway. I’ve got my work. And she’s here.’ She touched her stomach again and Joan noticed her expression change instantly. She felt jealous. ‘Well not much work now, not selling any, and not showing anything either, but it still fills me, makes me whole, you know. I can just close my eyes and be anywhere.’ She paused. ‘And I met someone today.’ She stopped abruptly. Why had she said that? She hadn’t met anyone. Not really. She’d just smiled, that was all. But Joan hadn’t noticed the hesitation.
‘Met someone? That’s brilliant. Who is he? Where? What’s he like?’
It was Holly’s turned to stare down at her plate. She felt stupid. Why had she said that? Who’s the sad cow now, she thought to herself? Somebody smiles and suddenly I ‘met’ them. She felt Joan watching her, waiting for some response. She would have seen the blush. Holly knew she’d have to say something.
‘Well, not really. It’s just someone at the café I go to, late afternoon, you know, Sam’s, you’ve been there. It’s a habit. I watch people through the window. You can do that in a café. I get ideas. And, well, there was someone there who just smiled, that’s all.’ She looked up. ‘I’m just a sad case. A smile and I’m hooked.’
Joan had hoped for an instant that it was more, that maybe Holly was opening up again. She felt sad that maybe she wasn’t, but that was Holly, romantic, living in another world. ‘Well, a smile, that’s good. Must mean they like you. I mean, who smiles at anyone in the city?’
Holly hadn’t thought of that. The smile had seemed so natural. ‘Yes, suppose so.’
‘What’s he like?’
Holly was going to lie. Make up a story, but didn’t see the point. She was no good at it anyway and it always seemed to get other people into trouble. They start with a small lie and then always end up inventing even bigger one’s to cover their tracks. She hated liars. ‘Well it’s not … but she … .’
‘She! A girl?’ Joan laughed in surprise. ‘Never thought you’d … .’
‘No … I don’t mean that … look at me’. She ran her hands down her stomach. ‘It’s not that.’
Joan frowned. She could tell that it was more than nothing. Holly wasn’t the kind of person to mention something if it didn’t mean anything. But she didn’t know how to respond, so she said the first thing that came to mind. ‘I’m not being judgmental.’
‘I don’t care about that … if it was … I don’t even know why I said anything. I don’t know, maybe I’m losing it, being on my own too much, and someone smiles and then … .’ She left the thought unfinished and began playing distractedly with her food.
Joan paused before replying. ‘What’s she like?’ She asked quietly.
‘I don’t know. I don’t even know her.’
Joan trod carefully. ‘You’re always really intuitive. So, you know, there must’ve been something about her. Something you want to draw maybe? Some idea you had?’
‘She’s very striking, but not normally, not like you’d think it’d mean. She has beautiful almond eyes; Asian looking, but different in some weird way. I think she’s quite tall. She kind of has this presence. She pointed out a seat for me when I thought there weren’t any.’
Joan wasn’t sure what to say. ‘Maybe it’s an arty thing … you know, you’d like to draw her.’
Maybe that was it, Holly thought. Perhaps she’d missed that because it had been so long since anything had fired her imagination. She felt relieved for some reason. ‘Yeah, maybe that’s it. It’s been so long.’ Her face brightened slightly. ‘Another muse.’
Joan laughed. ‘Go get her!’
Holly sobered. ‘Well, maybe. Actually, I’d never seen her before.’
There was a pause, a lull that eased itself between them like an unexpected guest. They focused on the food until Holly broke the silence.
‘But what about you? How’s everything? How’s … .’ Holly asked.
‘He left.’
‘Oh, I’m … .’
‘That’s not the worse bit.’ It was Joan’s turn to fidget with her food.
Holly put her plate down and refilled Joan’s glass.
Watersmead
Beth pushed open the door. Yellow light filled the porch and washed away the cool moonlight. The way it reached its unmoving fingers into every corner still disturbed her, this lifelessness sweeping the night away, it always left her unsettled somehow. She took her jacket off slowly and hung it up inside the door. Deep from within the house she could hear voices. It could only mean one thing. She made her way slowly into the living room.
‘Beth! We didn’t think you’d be … Caleb said you were looking for Holly.’
Beth held her in a tight hug. ‘Evie … .’
‘She came this morning.’ Caleb said.
‘This is so good.’ Beth smiled. ‘I’ve found her. She’s in the city. This’ll all be over soon.’
Caleb was surprised. He’d tried to persuade her many times that it would be impossible. ‘You’ve found her? But we thought … .’
‘I just got lucky.’ Her face grew serious. She let Eve go. ‘She’s pregnant.’
Eve and Caleb stared at each other in a kind of shocked disappointment. ‘But … how? We’d have known.’ Eve exclaimed.
‘I don’t know. I’ve only just seen her.’
Eve sat down. She looked sad and disappointed. ‘Then we’ve lost her. The first.’
Beth shook her head. ‘No, I don’t think so. It’s still from her, and it’s not been long, so maybe … .’
Caleb frowned. He didn’t like the unexpected. There had already been far too much. ‘There can’t be anything new. We can’t change things now.’
Beth smiled. ‘But that’s exactly what we are doing.’
Eve disagreed. ‘For them, not for us.’
‘Maybe that’s not all there is, that you know. There’s something Arian said, something I wasn’t sure about. I was waiting for the right time. Sorry.’
Beth sat down next to Eve. She didn’t want tell them everything until everything was more clear, but she knew that with a baby involved she’d have to explain more than she had. Answer at least some of their doubts.
Eve spoke first. Her voice was filled with concern. ‘Something Arian said?’
‘How we can let them know. Bring them the news, quietly.’
Caleb spoke quietly, trying to hide his growing unease. ‘Who are they? Everybody but Holly knows already.’
‘No, not the children, not them.’
Eve looked surprised. This was something they’d never talked about. Afraid of the words she whispered the obvious question with trepidation.
‘You mean them, all of them? Those outside?’
Beth shook her head. ‘Not all of them, no, not that, but some of them.’
‘Why? What have they got to do with it?’ Caleb asked.
Beth smiled. ‘There’re billions of them.’
‘We have time. It doesn’t matter how long it takes.’ Eve said.
‘Arianna believes they’re a part of this too. That it’s their future as well, now.’
To Eve that made no sense; they had been a mistake, that was all. ‘But why?’ She asked. ‘They’ve failed.’
‘I don’t know.’
‘She’s asked you to tell them but she hasn’t given you any reason?’ Caleb asked.
‘Yes, no, not tell them. Let them find out.’
Eve felt a chill creep into the room. ‘Let who find out? How’d you choose?’
‘We let them choose. They’re so controlling they’ll take care of whatever needs to be done. That’s what she said.’
Caleb took Beth’s hand. ‘What specifically has she asked you to do?’
‘Nothing. She just said that when the time comes they should find out. They ... there’ve been plans for a long time. I couldn’t tell you. She said it’d be … at first it’ll be hard but that it’ll all be … okay eventually.’
Eve began to see why it was that Beth had insisted on finding Holly on her own, and why they’d seemed to grow apart over the last year or so. Secrets again, just like always. It wasn’t Beth to blame. ‘So it really is about Holly ... it’s her ... that’s why you’ve tried so hard to find her, have been so ... it’s been something from Arianna? All this time?’
Beth hesitated before answering. She knew they’d feel betrayed. ‘Yes.’ She said timidly. ‘Arianna thought you’d stop me, so if you didn’t know ... then … it’s needed, this last thing.’ She knew she wasn’t making sense.
Caleb’s unease slipped into anger. ‘So we didn’t need to know? And we still don’t, do we? Only what you tell us.’
Beth wanted to tell them everything, about the years of planning, the stranger in the park, all of it, all the risks, but she knew they’d worry. It had to be done and it was best kept from them. There had to be the witness, the victim and the betrayal. After that no one could see what would happen. There was no point dwelling on it, no purpose in involving others.
Eve saw the lines of strain cross Beth’s face. She’d seen them before and knew there was nothing they could do to change anything, it’d already been decided and they’d have to wait. She knew she’d have to step in to stop Caleb, prevent him from making it worse for her. Give Beth space to think things through in her own way. That was how it’d always been. ‘You must be hungry? Maybe?’ She said. It was a weak pretense they’d easily see through, but it would work anyway.
Beth sighed gratefully. ‘I’ll wait. You must be tired. I’ll sleep, and then maybe later?’
‘I’m not tired. I’ve been waiting, hoping, just in case you came back.
It is okay, honest. Tam came yesterday. I stayed with him last night. I need to sleep, that’s all.’ Beth stretched out on the settee and turned away from them.
Re-encountered Past
Holly made her way through the flow of people pushing against her as they zigged and zagged towards the train station. Already ten minutes later than the day before, she began to worry that she’d be too late. She was behind her normal schedule, it was Joan’s fault, she’d kept her up all night.
Anxious, her mind was in one of its mad states, one part telling her to slow down it didn’t matter, while the other urged her on to greater speed, stress and recklessness. She swept on up the street, humming to herself to drown out the mental chatter of doubt and at last pushed open the door of the café with serious, unhesitating intent in case some whim of caution stopped her. Her gaze swept the room, taking in the eerie silence of empty tables with clean surfaces braced in readiness. It was a lifeless room, poised, waiting, a mirror of her life.
Sam the café owner, called over. ‘Back to normal then Hol?’
‘What?’
‘Empty.’
Holly let the door close behind her and moved over to her usual table by the window. ‘I guess so, but not usually this bad.’
‘Bad? I thought you liked having the place to yourself? Should have seen your face last night when that bus load filled the place up.’
Holly sat upright, instantly attentive, he couldn’t mean … . ‘Bus load, what bus load?’
‘The crowd in last night; you didn’t think I’d got into some good food guide did you? There was this bus, around the corner, had a flat tire and they brought them all in here.’
Holly slumped back. ‘Oh.’
Sam walked up to her table. ‘What’s up?’
‘Nothing.’
‘You sure?’
‘Yes.’ She paused and glanced unconsciously out of the window.
‘They’re not coming back if that’s what you’re worried about. Miracles don’t happen twice. Made as much yesterday as … well … .’ He stopped distractedly mid-sentence and wandered off.
Holly called after him. ‘Was ... did you ... d’you know … ?’
He turned and smiled enigmatically. ‘That girl?’
‘Er … yes … er … what? How d’you know … I mean … .’
She was in before … in the morning. You know, yesterday. Asked if I’d ever seen anyone like you … I mean, if I’d seen you. Told her you came in all the time. Well, someone like you … she only described you. Didn’t have a photo or anything.’
‘Yeah, right.’ Holly said hurriedly, wanting him to be quiet. It was just like him to notice everything and then tease her for no reason. She could still feel herself blushing, acting as though she’d been caught out doing something she shouldn’t. ‘I just … she was just … you know, kind.’
Sam just watched her indifferently and didn’t say anything.
‘You know, showing me a table. Like, who bothers doing that.’
Sam shrugged. ‘Doesn’t sound like much to get embarrassed about.’
‘I’m not embarrassed.’
‘Sure. Coffee?’
She didn’t answer. She always had coffee first and then something else only if she really felt like it. She was fussy. The coffee was the only regular thing about her being there.
‘Anything else?’ Sam asked.
‘Maybe.’
Sam went back to the counter. He hadn’t waited for her reply.
Holly took a sketchpad from the leather folder she always carried. She opened the pad and stared at a blank sheet of paper.
Sam clunked a cup of coffee down next to her. It made her jump.
‘That was quick.’
‘You were miles away. Want to talk about it?’
‘Nothing to say, it’s all the same as ever.’
‘Aye.’ He went to walk away and glanced out of the window as he did so. He stopped. Holly looked up and saw him smile a different smile from the last one, more knowing.
‘What?’ She asked, and went to look round in the direction of his gaze.
‘Here she is. I’d wondered if … .’
Holly’s head sped around. She was heading straight towards them. Holly turned away and picked up her coffee. It was something to hide behind.
‘I’ll leave you to it then.’
‘There’s nothing to leave me to. I … .’
‘If you say so.’ Sam disappeared once again into the back. The bell rang as the door opened. Holly looked up, a smile ready in case it was needed.
Meeting
Beth met Holly’s smile with a broad grin and sparkling eyes. She sat straight down at Holly’s table and touched her arm briefly in that casual way people do in mid sentence to emphasize a point. Except this time it had no obvious purpose. Holly was wrong-footed, confused by the touch that had no place. There were other emotions too, stranger feelings and reactions out of place with anything actually taking place. She felt foolish and awkward for reasons she couldn’t fathom.
‘Got a seat then?’
‘Ehm, yes.’
‘I mean it’s not busy tonight.’
‘Yeah, I got that … not busy. No buses tonight.’
Beth frowned.
‘Sorry, that’s why it was so busy before. A bus.’
Beth looked around the café. ‘Oh, I hadn’t noticed. Seen it, I mean.’
‘Not in here, I mean outside, down the road, or something.’
Beth smiled. ‘I guessed that. I meant I hadn’t noticed they didn’t belong here. You know, locals.’
‘Yeah, of course.’ She wondered if she looked as edgy as she felt.
Beth laughed. ‘I’m not going to bite you.’
Holly tensed. ‘Don’t know what you mean. You sat down here, I’m just … being … friendly.’
Beth watched her intently for a brief, unnoticed, moment. ‘Want another coffee?’
Holly looked down, ready to say she’d got one, and was surprised to see an empty cup. ‘Oh, I thought … sure. Sam!’ She shouted. Relieved to shift onto ordinary ground. ‘Two coffees.’
An awkward silence shifted into the space left vacant, and then to Holly’s relief Sam came out of the kitchen with the coffees in record time. Holly waited as usual for Sam to bring them over, but Beth got up and walked to the counter to collect them. Holly couldn’t help noticing how she moved, as though gravity had taken time off. Holly guessed she was probably one of those lucky few who looked good in anything. She wished she hadn’t noticed.
Beth came back and placed Holly’s coffee on the table. She held on to her own and this time didn’t sit down. ‘I’ll leave you to your drawing.’ She turned towards another table.
‘But … I don’t … er … haven’t thanked you for last night … the chair.’
Beth turned back. There was something in her eyes Holly couldn’t quite read. It was somehow familiar, the whole gesture of turning and looking back, she couldn’t think why, but it was as though she seen it before somewhere, exactly the same gesture. ‘I just thought you needed to sit down. You looked tired. You know, with the baby.’
It came out so naturally that for a second Holly almost missed what she’d said, and then her mind caught up. ‘Baby?’ She looked down at her stomach. Nothing was showing and no one knew, except Joan. Sam couldn’t possibly know, no one could, not really, despite what her imagination told her.
Beth seemed to read her thoughts. ‘The way you move. It kind of gives it away.’
Holly doubted that, but couldn’t think of another reason. And, anyway, this was her first, and still only a couple of months old, so, maybe some people could tell. ‘You a nurse, or a midwife or something?’
Beth moved back towards the table. ‘No. Just seen a lot of it. Lots of babies.’
‘Oh. Big family?’
‘Something like that.’ Her expression lost focus and for a moment became distant and detached. Holly looked away in case she’d intruded on something private and painful.
‘Can I touch it?’ Beth asked brightly. Her voice cut through Holly’s instant mood swing and made her jump. She noticed the reaction. ‘Sorry, I didn’t mean … . It doesn’t matter.’ She said quickly.
‘No … it’s not that … I was just … sure.’ Holly blushed. No one had asked her that before. No one had had the chance, except Joan, and she was family. This was different, a stranger wanting to touch her it. Friends with their own pregnancies had told her about that, how everyone seemed to claim some kind of ownership, like they had some implicit permission to touch something so private. She’d already decided, from the moment she had first known that she would never allow people she hardly knew to touch her, but now she had asked, this stranger, Holly wanted to be touched. How weird is this? She whispered to herself, but Beth heard.
‘Not weird, but say no if you want to.’
Still blushing Holly managed to say that she didn’t mind, not really.
Beth sat down again and pulled her chair closer. Holly awkwardly opened her jacket, glad for once that she had a clean t-shirt on underneath. She knew it was trivial, but she was glad anyway.
Beth leaned forward, and rather than placing her hand on the outside she lifted the t-shirt and put her hand directly on Holly’s still flat stomach. Holly started in surprise at the unexpected touch. She blushed again, even more deeply than before and looked away, trying to dismiss it as simply some kind of cultural difference. But the intimacy of a strange hand touching her skin was too weird to ignore. She wanted it to stop. Her cheeks were burning and she wanted that to stop too, but when looking away eventually began to feel more strange than trying to act normally she looked back at Beth. Beth looked up but kept her hand where it was. She caught Holly’s gaze and her eyes smiled. She removed her hand and sat up, edging her seat slightly away as she did so. Where her hand had been still felt warm.
‘Sorry. Didn’t mean to embarrass you. Just wanted to see if I could feel anything. It’s really early. I thought, you know, that, like that, it might have been better. Should have asked.’
Holly straightened the t-shirt and pulled her jacket closed. ‘No, that was fine. Didn’t expect … I’m new to all this.’
Beth sipped her coffee. ‘Me too.’
Holly looked at her intently. ‘But you said … .’
‘I mean here, in a café … and we don’t know each other. It was a bit clumsy of me. Sorry.’
Holly could still feel the gentle touch on her stomach. ‘No, not clumsy, maybe a bit … .’
‘Freaky?’
Holly laughed. ‘Different.’ She said tactfully.
‘Good choice.’
There was a pause that grew and stayed beyond its welcome. To Holly it began to fill the room with an uncomfortable silence. Except for the two of them the room was still empty and as the seconds slipped by Holly began to feel exposed, almost vulnerable in some way. She fidgeted awkwardly. Beth, though, sat patiently sipping her drink. Holly had no idea what to say next. After a moment’s hesitation she did what came naturally.
‘I’d better go.’ She started to stand. ‘Things to do.’
Beth looked taken aback. ‘But you’ve not had anything to eat.’
‘Not hungry.’ She collected her pad and dropped it into the folder.
Beth placed her cup on the table and stood. ‘Sorry, it’s my fault. I didn’t mean to offend you. Take up your space … and, you know, intrude like that.’
‘It’s fine. I didn’t mind. I just have to go.’ She moved around the table and headed for the door. ‘Bye Sam!’ There was no answer so she pulled open the door to the street. ‘Maybe see you again.’
‘Hope so.’
Holly walked out and headed off down the street. The memory of Beth’s slightly startled and disappointed expression glared out at her and made her feel both stupid and guilty, but it was too late, she’d turned the corner and for now there was no going back.
Confusion
‘Hi, Joan, it’s me.’
‘Hi Hol. Sorry about the mess I was ... .’
‘That’s fine. What’s n … It’s not about that. It was great to see you. I just … .’
‘Sorry Hol, not got long. The taxi’ll be here any minute.’
‘Oh, okay.’ Holly fell quiet.
‘What is it?’
‘Nothing. I’ll talk to you later.’
Joan could hear the tone in Holly’s voice. The one she’d had since she was a little girl. The one that said it wouldn’t wait but she’d cope anyway. ‘Tell me.’
‘You’re in a rush and … .’
‘Tell me Hol.’
‘It’s nothing.’ Now she had the chance to talk, what had seemed important now sounded like nothing more than neurotic babble.
‘I know, but best tell me anyway.’
‘You’re in a hurry, I’ll tell you next time.’
‘Holly! Stop messing about.’
‘I don’t know what to say.’
‘Just say it.’
Holly felt stupid but relieved that she was being bullied into it as then, whatever happened, she could always claim that she hadn’t wanted to say anything anyway. ‘I saw that girl again.’ She paused to collect her thoughts.
‘And?’
‘It was weird.’
Joan’s interest suddenly picked up. ‘Weird? What have you been up to?’
‘Nothing. We had coffee that’s all.’
‘Hol, the taxi’s here.’
‘Oh, okay. Talk to you later.’
Joan sighed with impatience. ‘Look, I’m not going anywhere.’
‘Well, she touched me.’ Holly paused. She’d intended to explain how it had made her feel but she couldn’t find the words.
‘Touched you where? What d’you mean?’
It was in the café. She ask if she could touch it … the baby, my stomach.’
‘Oh, I thought … .’ Then something else came to mind. ‘Oh, and you felt … .’
‘No! Nothing like that but … I don’t know. Like … .’
‘Like what?’
‘When she took her hand away I felt my stomach … like there was ... something … I don’t know.’
Joan groaned silently to herself. ‘You’re pregnant. You’re bound to have weird feelings. Feel really defensive about it. About your body, you know, the baby.’
‘Maybe, but it’s how she looked at me as well.’
‘What, like she was hitting on you?’
Holly didn’t answer straight away, she tried to remember exactly how it had been.
‘Hol? You okay? I didn’t mean … .’
‘It was like she looked straight into me. I could really feel her. Like this … I don’t know … it was strange.’
Joan felt pangs of concern. Either this person was weird or Holly was beginning some kind of breakdown. ‘Look Hol, maybe you should stay away from her. Maybe she’s on medication or something. Maybe she’s been released from somewhere. You don’t need that right now.’
‘No, it wasn’t like that. At least I don’t think so. It wasn’t freaky, or some kind of come-on, it was … I don’t know, like she was really getting inside me. Her hand on my stomach, on my actual skin not on the t-shirt, I didn’t know where to look, and those eyes fixed on me.’
Joan was unsure what to say. Maybe there were romantic feelings there and Holly was hiding them from herself, or maybe it was her emotions kicking in; hormones starting their rollercoaster ride. ‘Those eyes?’
Holly snapped back impatiently. ‘Big brown almond shaped eyes, I told you.’
‘Okay, don’t snap at me. I wondered what you meant by her eyes, that’s all.’
Holly took a deep breath, and then several more followed. ‘Sorry Joanie, I’m being weird, I can see that.’
‘You’re not. Something’s worrying you, that’s obvious, so tell me what you thought it was about her eyes, if that helps.’
‘It was like I knew them. Like I’d seen them before. I mean the look, the way she looked at me. It wasn’t suggestive or controlling like guys can be when they want something, it was … I don’t know … very different. Very … intimate.’
‘And not a come-on?’ Joan still wasn’t convinced.
‘No. I didn’t feel it that way. But, well, definitely intimate.’
‘It still leaves you feeling uncomfortable, right?’
Holly didn’t answer for several seconds.
‘Hol?’
‘No, I don’t think it does now.’
‘You’ve made your mind up then?’
Holly went quiet again.
‘Hol? What’re you thinking?’
‘I don’t know. It’s still weird.’
Joan could see where Holly was now headed. ‘So, you’ll go and see her again.’
Holly hesitated before answering. ‘I think so. Maybe it’s just cultural. Maybe she’s lonely. Comes from a big family and is used to being close to people, tactile, you know. Maybe she misses that.’
‘Well, maybe. Just be careful. You still haven’t really explained that bit about her eyes.’
‘Probably just imagined it.’
Joan felt uneasy. She knew there was more that Holly wasn’t telling her, but the taxi driver was at the door, again. She had to go. ‘Look Hol, if you’re okay I’ve got to go. The taxi driver’s getting impatient and I’m going to be late, but … .’
‘You go, I’ll … .’
‘I’ll come over tomorrow, or the day after, I’ll phone you. I promise, I really promise. I’ll phone tomorrow morning. Okay?’
‘Yeah, sure, that’d be great. Will you … .?’
‘I’ll bring some food, don’t worry!’
They laughed.
The phone at the other end clicked down with the awful silent, closing clunk that lonely people hate so much.
Holly placed the hand set down. She felt guilty. She’d not told Joan everything, nothing about her true feelings. She had not known how to anymore than she had known how to explain that it seemed like the girl had been looking for her. How Sam had told her that she had been asking after someone who looked like her. How instead of being scared at probably being stalked, it was instead like being given something new and exciting. Something that left her feeling that maybe, after all, she did belong somewhere, that she wasn’t just an arty freak that never really got on with anyone.
Exposure
It was a cold night, the kind that made Beth come alive with memories of a home long since stripped bare and laid waste with concrete. The bite of chilled air was just cold enough to carry her back unconsciously to frozen rivers and blazing fires. She closed her eyes and freed her mind with memories. And then a shout from drunken children pulled her back. She shivered as she stared back at them briefly before looking away, but they had seen her look at them and saw it as a challenge. They began to cross the road towards her. For a moment she held her ground as she felt the briefest instant of tiredness at always having to give way to the constant waves of infantile aggression that permeated the lives surrounding her, but the feeling didn’t last and she stepped into the park and vanished from their view. Moving away she could hear their baying and calling; disturbing animal sounds from the lips of children left too long alone.
She moved slowly through the park until she reached the gap in the hedge opposite Holly’s flat where she’d been discovered a few days before. She glanced back into the bushes where Ben was watching her once more from his concealed hide-a-way. She made it a cursory gesture, something that would seem no more than a nervous check on the dark undergrowth surrounding her, but as dark as it was she still saw him clearly, heard his heart beating nervously and smelled the frightened sweat running down his body. She turned back to the buildings outside the park and her eyes focused on the window of Holly’s flat. There were no lights on. Beth stepped back and leant against a tree to wait, she couldn’t afford to make a mistake.
Once Beth withdrew back to the tree and seemed in no hurry to move Ben relaxed slightly and fidgeted around in silence to find his cell phone. He’d managed somehow to make an arrangement with the local police that he should send a text if she turned up again. He was grateful to have the chance. Knowing him for years as a sometime vagrant and petty thief, almost all of them had laughed at him, contemptuous that he would even think even for a moment that they would listen to anything he had to say. Luckily one of them was different, they were new to the city, newly promoted and looking for any chance however slight to make his first arrest in his new post. He had quietly followed Ben out and handed over a phone number. Ben had been back to the park ever since, and he could hardly believe his luck that she had turned up again.
He eased himself forwards and tried to make out which apartment she was watching. About half of the twenty on the side she was looking up at had lights on, the others were in complete darkness. He guessed that as she was watching and waiting she must have already picked one out. He began to note which lights were on and which off so he’d be able to recognize when a change triggered her into action. He had only just begun counting them off into blocks when Beth stood suddenly, dropped her pack into a bush, made her way quickly out of the undergrowth and crossed the road to the side of the building. He watched her leap up and grab hold of an access ladder, pull it down and climb quickly into the shadows.
Ben admired her speed and grace. He almost abandoned any thought of texting the police. A part of him wanted to wait and watch her. Maybe even talk to her. Get close. Close enough to smell her, perhaps even chance a touch. The thoughts where enthralling, but not enough. He could still remember how she’d looked at him. He hadn’t seemed to count for anything. She’d shown no fear, no emotion of any kind. That disturbed him. He lifted the phone and sent the text. It beeped acknowledgement. Then, moving cautiously to where she’d left the bag, he lifted it from the bush and looked inside. It was empty. He sighed with impatience. He’d hoped it would tell him something, maybe even contain something personal, like an address. He hoped for that more than anything else, so he’d be able to find her when, inevitably, the police let her go. He put the bag back and retreated to his hiding place.
Beth had climbed unseen to the third floor she had already checked out on her first visit. She leant out as far as she could and took hold of a downpipe that ran from each bathroom window. She let herself go from the iron stairway and swung across to the side of Holly’s bathroom. Taking out a knife she quickly slipped the catch on the window, eased it open and slid stealthily through. Once inside she moved soundlessly into the hallway and listened carefully. It was silent. She eased open the door to the living room. It was empty. With relief she breathed more easily as she waited for as long as she dared to see if any lights came on. After a few minutes she assumed Holly was already asleep and so began to search quickly for family photos and the usual mementoes of days out with school friends, holidays, birthdays and parties. She dug out old letters and scanned them as fast as she could. With haste she built up a picture of the life Holly had been living. The photos and letters let her into Holly’s thoughts and with each one her sense of relief grew, Holly was mostly alone, and lonely, there was nothing to get into the way of Beth slowly and carefully winning her confidence. Like someone who had been hungry too long would eat anything offered, she would welcome almost any kind of friendship, any gesture of affection.
The search finished and Beth entered Holly’s bedroom and found her sleeping soundlessly. Standing motionlessly, Beth scanned the room carefully, as though trying to remember every detail. Then, finally satisfied, she moved to the side of the bed and gently touched Holly’s hair, causing her to murmur peacefully as though in response. Beth watched her for several long moments before taking out a small ornate bottle from her pocket. She removed the stopper and sprinkling a few drops of a colorless liquid onto Holly’s pillow. They evaporated quickly, leaving no trace except the faintest of odors. Then, moving swiftly, she retraced her steps, regained the stairway and descended quickly back to the ground.
At the bottom of the ladder Beth could not miss the police car parked against the curb opposite the place she’d left her bag. She knew no one could have seen her climb back down to the alley so it would have been easy to have slipped unseen in the opposite direction, but that wasn’t what was supposed to happen. As much as she hated the thought, she knew they had to see her. She shivered involuntarily, stepped out into the light and walked towards the car.