Payback

by Gemma Rogers

  The Boar was like our second workplace and Phil the landlord had our drinks on the bar within minutes of us walking in.

  Gary bought the first round, ignoring my waving of two twenty-pound notes in his face.

  ‘You get the next one,’ he said, handing me a glass of wine.

  ‘So, who’s the fella?’ asked Hope.

  I knew it was going to be a hot topic of conversation.

  ‘Just someone from my schooldays,’

  ‘Wow, did you go out with him at school?’ she continued.

  ‘No, not then, but we’re going to go out for dinner next week.’ I didn’t divulge meeting him again at the funeral. Instead, I raised my glass in a toast to my team for their hard work this week. Hoping the subject of my love life would be soon forgotten about. It was, as the conversation turned towards Beth and her pet bulldog that snored louder than her boyfriend.

  My mind wandered, thinking about work. We had two chains completing this week, one due on Thursday, one Friday, so that would keep us busy with tying up any loose paperwork and liaising with solicitors. I knew Dad would be pleased; we’d already succeeded our target for this quarter and were expected to surpass the profits projections for this year. What we needed now was more properties to sell. Next week, I would get some flyers printed and drop them into the houses around Park Lane and the street where the bungalow had sold. That usually generated some interest and a couple of valuations. On the whole, business was good, and it was only going to get better.

  On Saturday, I was surprised to find I was nervous about seeing Becca and Robyn and, even though it was ridiculous, I agonised over what to wear. Autumn was well on its way and the Indian summer we’d been hoping for had been ruined by the temperature falling in the past few days. After much deliberation, I chose a mustard top with a navy scarf, dark jeans and heeled boots. I wanted to look successful and confident but also content. I couldn’t help but be envious of Becca. She’d married Mark, her childhood sweetheart, and pushed out a couple of kids. Robyn’s life was a mystery, but for all I knew she could be in the same club. I wasn’t competitive, but I wanted to be okay with the choices I’d made and the life I’d carved out for myself. I didn’t want to feel their pity that I was still stuck in Copthorne, single and childless at thirty-six.

  I needn’t have worried, within five minutes it was as though we were fifteen again. Becca looked great, her dark hair was still long and annoyingly glossy. She looked much more together than I thought she might with two kids running around at home, but what did I know? Robyn was the same, she wore skinny jeans and biker boots and had added nose and eyebrow rings to the collection of piercings since I last saw her. Back then, she already had three hoops in each ear, which in the nineties was quite controversial.

  ‘Christ, Robyn, how many piercings do you have now?’ I asked, giving her a wink as she rolled up her sleeves to reveal tattoos on both wrists.

  ‘Nine piercings and seven tattoos. I can’t show you all of them though.’ She winked back. The punk look suited her, even the pink streak in her hair. She looked great, albeit a bit scary, but that was Robyn; she never gave a toss about what people thought of her. I envied that too.

  ‘Where are you living now?’ I asked as our drinks arrived and we perused the menu. I was starving and eyeing the chicken and avocado baguette, my stomach rumbling audibly.

  ‘I’m in Horsham. I live with my girlfriend Chloe,’ Robyn said, unabashed.

  ‘A girlfriend? Did James put you off for life?’ I giggled.

  Becca choked on her drink, her eyes wide. Had I been inappropriate? I wrung my hands under the table, my ears growing hot waiting for someone to speak.

  A smile played on Robyn’s lips as she hesitated, capitalising on Becca’s reaction.

  ‘Only that James and I kind of had a thing last weekend. I wondered if there was something I should know?’ I continued at speed, trying to dig myself out of the hole I’d created.

  ‘Oh god, I hope he’s more exciting now anyway. If not, then run!’ Robyn countered and the atmosphere evaporated.

  We glossed over the last ten years. I told them about James and bumping into him at Gareth’s funeral. They ribbed me for getting laid at a funeral; did I not have any decorum? Becca told me she was a freelance accountant, looking after clients in and around Brighton. Her and Mark had twin girls, although they weren’t so much kids any more. I was surprised when she showed me a photo, they were blonde like their dad, long hair in waves. Tall and pretty too. According to Becca, they were growing up too fast. She and Mark had them when they were twenty so both had turned sixteen this year. Robyn worked in retail, a shop called Base in Horsham, where her and her girlfriend Chloe lived. She said she’d dated men and women over the years but had settled down now as much as she ever would. Robyn had dropped out of university in Leeds where she was doing an Art and Design degree. Couldn’t hack the bureaucracy apparently. I didn’t pry, it was obvious she didn’t want to go into detail, but she seemed happy with her life now.

  Neither of them was surprised to learn I was managing Whites. According to them it was always going to happen eventually. Was it tragic that my life had been so planned out? They hadn’t heard from Hayley either, although both had looked for her on the internet over the years without success.

  ‘It’s like she disappeared off the face of the earth. I remember looking for her when I was twenty-one, and a few more times over the years,’ Robyn said.

  Our food arrived, and we tore into it, hungry from waiting for so long; the service slow as the pub was so busy. Throwing caution to the wind, I told them about the messages I’d been receiving and the phone calls. I searched their faces in case either were hiding something, but they both looked as shocked and confused as I was. I didn’t believe it was them, but it had to be someone who knew about that night.

  ‘Jesus, Sophie, that sounds scary. You have no idea who it is? It’s obviously a guy from the phone calls,’ Robyn said, midway through chewing a crisp.

  ‘I don’t know, it’s weird, the stuff he says. It’s like he’s talking to someone else. It could be a recorded message? I have no idea. I can’t place the voice either.’ I grimaced.

  ‘Have you told the police?’ Becca asked.

  ‘No not yet. I feel a bit silly, to be honest.’

  ‘I’d tell them. You don’t know if it’s going to escalate. You’re living alone, in that flat. I’d be on the bloody phone to them!’ Becca said, dabbing her mouth with a serviette.

  ‘Have either of you received anything?’ I asked, looking from Becca to Robyn. Becca shook her head.

  ‘No, I haven’t. It’s weird though. I mean, I don’t understand. What’s the point of it all and why now?’ Robyn frowned.

  ‘I know. It makes no sense,’ I replied, frustrated they appeared as clueless as I did. I had to hope the notes and calls stopped, either that or whoever it was confronted me. Whoever had a grudge against me, if they came out into the open, we could work it out, couldn’t we?

  When I said goodbye to Becca and Robyn a couple of hours later, we agreed to fix a date to bring Mark and James with us. We decided to meet one evening, so we could have a drink and raise a glass in memory of Gareth.

  By the time I got home the sun was starting to set, the sky glowing red – shepherds’ delight. I couldn’t wait to get into my comfy clothes, but as I pulled round the back of the building to park, my pulse raced, making my eyes blur. The car stalled and I staggered out, legs weak, leaning on the bonnet for support. My front door was wide open, blowing back and forth in the wind.

  14

  August 1997

  As I climbed the dim staircase, I could hear muffled voices and laughter which sounded like Becca. I wiped my eyes, careful not to smudge the mascara I’d applied only an hour before. My attempt at looking older, although I’m not sure who for? No turning back now. Elliot would be waiting. My legs were like lead as I ascended, leaving Gareth alone in the kitchen. Would it be the end of our friendship? It w
ould have been so easy to choose him. It made much more sense. We were easy in each other’s company; I didn’t have to pretend to be anyone else.

  I pushed those thoughts away; I couldn’t let myself dwell, not now. I reached the top of the stairs, a muted glow on the carpet from a small window. The sun had almost faded. Every door was shut and, for a second, I was disorientated. Which room was I supposed to be going in?

  I stepped forward, a creak erupting from the floorboard beneath my feet, making me jump.

  ‘Hello?’ Elliot called out in a low voice. He was waiting for his mystery partner to join him.

  I turned to the sound of his voice and saw the door to my left, ajar. When I pushed it open, Elliot was hunched over, laying out his sleeping bag upon the floor.

  ‘Hey,’ he said, standing upright. The corners of his mouth twitched, and he put his hands on his hips.

  ‘Hi,’ I replied, forcing a smile. He hadn’t gone running past me out into the street, so that was a good sign. I wanted to ask who he had hoped it would be, but if I was honest, I didn’t want to know the answer.

  I unravelled my sleeping bag, zipping it open and laying it on top of Elliot’s so it could be our cover. I could feel his eyes penetrating my back as I slipped off my trainers. My skin prickled. Without saying a word, he mirrored me, arranging them by the skirting board. The room was gloomy.

  I turned to face him, cloaked in the shadows. My stomach gurgled so loud it made us giggle, dispelling the tension which had been building since the moment I entered the room.

  ‘Do you want more light?’ Elliot asked, gesturing to my torch, which lay redundant beside my trainers.

  ‘No.’

  ‘Okay.’ After a pause, he took my hand and leant forward to kiss me.

  It was different to Gareth. He tasted of smoke and the sweet tang of an energy drink. But it was nice to be kissed and he was gentle, holding me to him. My body shivered, knees knocking together before I could stop them. I held my legs rigid, feet planted on the floor. Elliot’s fingers fumbled with the buttons on my checked shirt and I had to stop myself offering to help it took so long. I chewed my lip, my body frozen like a statue. It wasn’t until his hands touched my naked skin, I felt any desire at all.

  ‘Should we lay down?’ I asked, cold and exposed standing in my bra and jeans, goosebumps littered my skin.

  Elliot nodded and pulled his T-shirt over his head. Although his chest wasn’t as impressive as Mark’s had been in the park, it was hard and smooth to touch. Embarrassment washed over me. I should have done it, I should have undressed him, rather than let him do it all. But as he rolled on top of me, it no longer mattered. I liked the weight of him, but I was a fraud. Surely Hayley was right? To do this, you should love the person and I couldn’t pretend I felt like that about Elliot. I tried to push the thought out of my head as his hand strayed lower, beyond the waistband of my jeans and inside my underwear. Blue polka-dot with a hint of lace, I’d chosen that afternoon, the most adult pair of knickers I owed. Wasted, here in the dark.

  It seemed like such a rush. Elliot was so eager, and I let myself be carried along.

  ‘Are you okay?’ he paused to ask, his breathing laboured. His excitement palpable.

  ‘Yes,’ I lied, wishing I was with Gareth. Why had I let Hayley have him?

  ‘Wait, can I… can I use the bathroom?’

  Elliot moved off me without hesitation. ‘Sure.’

  I hurried out of the room and into the bathroom, trying not to listen to the shuffling and groaning from behind the other doors as I passed. Facing the mirror, in the harsh white light, I looked a fright, black streaks down one cheek.

  ‘Get your shit together, Sophie,’ I hissed, resting my forehead against the cool glass for a minute before fixing my make-up. This was my idea and I wasn’t going to be the one to bottle out.

  I washed my hands and pressed my damp palms to my cheeks. Elliot was nice, funny and I was going to hand my virginity to him, gift-wrapped and then the whole thing would be over with.

  As I made my way back to the bedroom, I heard a door closing downstairs. Perhaps Gareth had gone to get Hayley a drink or something? But I couldn’t dwell on that; I couldn’t put it off any longer.

  Elliot was sat upright waiting for me when I returned. I took off my jeans as he watched and crawled back under the covers, climbing astride him. I always felt better when in control.

  I couldn’t say I loved it. But I didn’t hate it either. It was fine. It wasn’t painful as such. I was a bit sore, but I didn’t bleed afterwards, like I’d read I might. We’d managed to navigate the condom and agreed, once it was done, it didn’t seem like such a big deal after all. Elliot seemed relieved, I guessed he was pleased he’d lasted more than a few minutes. I hadn’t expected him to. I thought it would all be over in seconds, but Elliot took his time, he was really gentle, stopping to ask if I was okay. I saw a completely different side to him that I hadn’t seen before. Afterwards, he pulled me in for a cuddle as we wrapped the sleeping bag around us. Neither of us in a rush to get dressed, like we wanted to freeze time. A perfect moment. It felt natural and not forced.

  ‘Shall we go downstairs?’ Elliot asked after ten minutes of watching the shadows dance on the ceiling.

  We untangled ourselves and got dressed, backs to each other, which seemed silly as neither of us had ever been more naked in front of another person before.

  The house was quiet, and we slipped downstairs unnoticed, him first and me behind.

  ‘Found these on the side, Gareth must have left them here?’ he said, waving the packet of cigarettes, the lighter tucked neatly inside the box.

  ‘Let’s have one.’

  As I opened the back door, I heard the creak of the gate ahead. My heart leapt, and I ducked back inside, but Elliot said no one was in the garden. I hurried to the gate and eased it open, looking left, then right, down the street. A figure hurried along the road, it looked from a distance like it was Gareth.

  ‘Who was that? Elliot asked, handing me a cigarette he’d lit for me. We moved down the side of the house, out of view.

  ‘Gareth, I think. I’m not sure though. That’s weird.’

  ‘Wow, he was even quicker than me,’ Elliot quipped, and I snorted, choking on the smoke. Grateful it had been him with his easy-going nature. At least we could laugh about it.

  I couldn’t deny, something had changed. I felt more mature, more grown-up. Like I was seeing the world through new eyes.

  I checked my watch, it was half past eight, time was running away from me. I wouldn’t get to gossip with the girls before I had to leave.

  ‘I’ll have to go soon; do you think I should go and interrupt them?’ I asked Elliot, unsure what to do. It would be awful to walk in on any of my friends half naked, but at the same time I knew my dad would be pissed if I was late home. Plus, I had to find a way of getting the key back before tomorrow morning. My heart raced as I worried about clearing up, leaving the house as it was when we arrived. My anxiety must have been written all over my face as Elliot put his cigarette out and pushed open the back door.

  ‘Leave it to me,’ he said, rolling his shoulders back. ‘Guys, come on, we’ve got to go,’ he hissed towards the stairs and again in the direction of the den.

  Becca and Mark were the first to come down, both looking dishevelled. Becca’s hair was wild, it looked like it had been backcombed, but I was relieved to see she was smiling. Robyn and James appeared a minute later, and everyone moved outside and down the street to wait for us.

  I checked the bedrooms with my torch, to make sure no one had left anything behind. The only thing I found was a discarded condom wrapper, which I slipped into my back pocket with a mental note to chuck it on the way home. Otherwise it could be awkward when Mum went through my pockets on wash day. When I returned downstairs, Elliot was waiting for me in the kitchen.

  ‘Have you seen Hayley?’ I asked.

  He shook his head and I shone my torch towards the archway, the gl
are reflecting off the closed door to the den.

  ‘Do you think they’re still in there?’ I whispered, but Elliot shrugged.

  ‘I doubt it.’ Maybe they hadn’t gone through with it? Maybe it was Gareth I saw leaving. After all, I was expecting someone to chicken out. I hoped he was okay, Hayley too.

  I edged towards the door, pushing it open with my hand. Light flooded the room and with it a shiver descended my back, playing notes on my spine.

  ‘It’s empty,’ I whispered to Elliot. My scalp pricked, hair follicles springing to attention.

  ‘So, where’s Hayley?’

  15

  September 2018

  As I approached, the front door swung towards me as though someone had pushed it. An invisible force. No one stood in the murky hallway, but that did little to still my tremors as I tried the light switch repeatedly. No light came from above and then I saw the bulb had been removed. What the fuck?

  I swallowed hard, clicked on the torch function on my phone for light and closed the front door, the wind whistling through the gap as it slid shut. The door was undamaged, no one had kicked it in. Someone had a key. I dragged across the rusty deadbolt, usually reserved for bedtime, locking the world out and me in. But in with who? I waited, silence overhead, no footsteps or floorboards creaking. No sign anyone was there, but who had left my front door wide open? I knew I’d closed it; I was sure I had.

  It was cold inside; the heating was off, and the elements had been allowed in. I crept up the stairs, trying to be as light on my feet as possible. Unsure why I was bothering, the illumination from my torch would give me away, but I didn’t have the nerve to climb in the dark. The staircase had no natural light and was always dark even on the brightest of days. If someone was in another part of the flat, they wouldn’t see the beam of light, but they might hear my footsteps. Perhaps it was Dad? My parents had a key but, surely, they would have phoned first, left a message and not my door wide open.