It was here that the strangest of scenarios came to her. If the steps towards recovery before the fire had been a smokescreen, if she had relapsed back into severe agoraphobia, would she possibly have still found herself sitting in this two-bedroom house in Calston at the age of forty-two? Was it feasible that her destiny was set, regardless of the individual incidents that took place along the way?
Since when have you believed in fate?
She questioned herself, but the thought lingered. If she had reached a point where the idea her family was better off without her became more than a passing thought, is it reasonable to think she would have run? If she’d decided to leave her relationship with Jason, there would have been no chance of keeping the kids with her. She couldn’t even take them to school, and that was only one of many ways she would have failed as a single parent. She couldn’t imagine any other arrangements being feasible either, and could hear the break up conversation now:
“Noah, Lizzy, we need to talk. Now, your father and I have decided that we won’t be living together anymore. You’ll live with your dad most of the time, but you’ll be able to visit mommy too. Of course, when you come to stay on weekends we’ll be staying here in the house and I won’t be able to take you anywhere. And it will just be a fifty-fifty chance your old mother will have food in the house for you. That will depend on whether she’s been able to get to the grocery store in the past two weeks.”
She couldn’t seriously see Jason packing up and leaving, with or without the kids. He wasn’t made that way. His own dysfunctional upbringing had seen to it he would never tear apart the family he had created, no matter how bad it got. However, Sarah may not have given him that option. If she reached the conclusion she could never be well again, and living with her was a life sentence for her family, there was every possibility she could have packed a few things and disappeared. She knew too well that it could have been done. It essentially was what she had done, except without the packing as most of her belongings lay in a pile of ash at her former address. She had left the town she grew up in, and driven across the country in intervals until she was far enough away to try forgetting. Far enough away that she wouldn’t be found.
Sarah was shaken out of her thoughts by the sound of small explosions, and to her relief saw it was on the TV. Bottles lined up on a table in a studio parking lot had exploded, the result of one chemical reaction or another, greeted by exclamations of amazement from the too good-looking host. His assistants, the people who actually knew a thing or two about science, didn’t seem so shocked, their expressions blank aside from small grins which seemed more uncomfortable than anything else. They knew they were on camera, but this wasn’t what they had dreamed of when they stepped into the university science labs all those years ago. Yet they smile along because the network is paying them to do so.
Deciding she’d had enough reminiscing and pondering The Life That Couldn’t Be, Sarah got up from her chair and went out the back for a cigarette. Since the MURDER sign incident, one thing had surprised her more than anything. More than her ability to mostly keep it out of her mind it, and more than the fact there had been no further problems with the mysterious balcony Tormentor. Most incredible was her continued progress with exposure therapy. Prior to last week’s drama, she had been trying again, with the assistance of Jane. She was yet to do anything by herself, but she and Jane had started by walking to the end of the block.
Hesitant the first time, she eventually gave in at Jane’s insistence. Her new friend had made the valid point that until she experienced the panic attack in the grocery store which led to their meeting, she had at least reached a point where she was confident enough to try doing her shopping. Sarah had countered it was merely out of dire necessity she had done that, however Jane had swayed her by suggesting she did have the strength to make it to the shops, but she shouldn’t have jumped straight into it without building her confidence gradually beforehand.
On one occasion, Jane had even accompanied her further to pick up a few necessities at her work. Having not had anybody she would consider a friend for so long, Sarah had been truly touched by Jane’s friendship on that day. Being the scene of her last panic attack, the Everyday Grocery held a certain level of intimidation for her, but Jane had calmed her down before they went inside, and had even linked arms with her as they made their way around the store. It was the first time in years she had felt she really belonged in the company of another human being. Jane had even introduced her to the cashier, a lovely woman around Sarah’s age named Brooke. The three of them chatted as Brooke scanned their items, and Sarah didn’t experience any sign of the anxiety that had plagued her last time.
Of course, it wasn’t the first time she had spoken to people since leaving Pokona. She’d been in shops numerous times, had spoken to landlords, removalists, neighbors, but nothing had ever felt this familiar. Like there was a world outside of her four walls she could actually be a part of again. Most people grow up with friends, schoolmates, work colleagues, just as she had done before her problems started, and being part of the world is taken for granted because it’s all people really know. People don’t start their lives trapped in a house and first experience the world many years later, so it is just accepted from early in life that there is more out there.
But for Sarah, she was being given an opportunity to experience it all again. At least that’s how it felt to her. When she was in the grocery store with Jane, she must have looked like she had just won a lottery, so bright was the smile that stretched across her face and removed her normally nervous expression. It was hard for her to understand, because she knew all too well that the world around her existed. She saw parts of it unfold from her front and back porch, and not always in as terrifying a manner as had presented itself recently. She watched the news, she interacted with others online through the work she did, so nothing was new to her as such. But knowing something exists and actually feeling you are part of it are two completely contrasting things.
She had known her family was real. It was right in front of her eyes, but she had let herself believe she was no longer a part of it, and eventually came to think of her role in the whole world the same way. Almost as though she were stuck behind a reinforced glass wall, able to see the lives of thousands of people evolve in front of her, but not being able to interact in any meaningful way. Talking with Jane and Brooke though, laughing together, she felt like the glass wall was coming down. Maybe not completely broken for her to walk through just yet, but cracked enough to give her hope that with a few more solid strikes, the whole thing could crash in front of her eyes, shards of oppressive glass falling to the ground in unison like a waterfall. The perfect harmony of a shattering blockade.
She finished her cigarette and went back inside, thankful for no further balcony issues, and was suddenly curious about the response to her vegan article. She had finished it in the end, a day later than requested but Jim had only briefly replied, saying he would get back to her once he read over it. She sat on the couch and turned the laptop on. If Jim needed any changes, she would need to make them promptly to keep a good standing with Change 4 Good. It would be easy to shrug it off and say she didn’t care for their publication and could take or leave their business, but the dwindling pile of cash in her cupboard indicated otherwise.
She was pleased to see an email from Jim, letting her know the article was great, and he would have their editor make a couple of minor changes before print . No need for her to re-submit anything. A quick logon to her PayPal account confirmed payment had been made, and she immediately planned to send the money to the real estate for rent when it fell due. The stark difference of her life now versus that of ten years ago hit again, realizing that an extra hundred and fifty dollars would have once been put aside for something the kids needed, or perhaps a luxury she and Jason would not normally have allowed. Now it was being marked for basic life necessities.
Before she could get too far down memory lane, Sarah was
grateful to hear the sound of her phone. She went to the kitchen to answer, happy to hear Jane’s voice on the other end.
“I think we’re ready to step things up a notch,” Jane sounded enthusiastic, while Sarah’s face displayed confusion. Her uncertainty translated into an awkward silence. She wasn’t sure what to say, and fortunately Jane noticed this and continued. “I think we need to go out for lunch.”
It was clearer to Sarah now. Jane was talking about expanding the horizons of the exposure therapy. She answered with more silence, prompting Jane to check if she was actually still there.
“I’m here, sorry. You caught me off guard a bit,” Sarah noticed the genuine excitement in Jane’s voice and didn’t want to disappoint her, but she wasn’t sure she was ready to take that step. She had been trying to not put a timeline on the therapy, to not give herself unrealistic expectations, and she had discussed this with Jane when they started so she should have seen something like this coming. They had walked, they had been to the grocery store, and they had interacted with one of Jane’s workmates. I guess this is the next logical step, Sarah thought to herself.
“I don’t want to rush you or anything, so tell me if I’m out of line. You just seemed so comfortable at my work the other day so I thought you might be ready to move forward some more,” the brightness in Jane’s voice hadn’t wavered, although she took her tone down slightly in case she had gone too far with the lunch suggestion.
Sarah’s mind raced, skipping between cautious excitement and fear. She immediately thought of the things that could go wrong. What if the place they ate in was crowded? Would she start thinking people were looking at her? In the forefront of her mind was the ever-present fear of vomiting. Doing it in a park or on the street was one thing, but in a place where other people were eating was a whole different level of horror. No longer completely comfortable standing, she pulled a chair away from the table and sat down.
What about the embarrassment she would cause Jane if it happened? That was maybe the worst of it. Someone would have to pay for the meals, and it certainly wouldn’t be Sarah if she had to bolt out the door and collapse in the sidewalk. How would Jane feel trying to explain that to a waitress? ‘Here’s a generous tip to cover you cleaning my friend’s vomit.’ She appreciated Jane’s effort, but none of it sat well with her at first thought.
“Y-yeah, I’m not too sure I’m ready for that,” Sarah stuttered, unable to say much more through her visions of covering a perfectly good café dining table in her regurgitated entrée.
“I don’t mean today or anything. We can work up to it, plan it all out. Will you do one thing for me?” Jane asked, and went on before Sarah could try and fumble out any more words. “Just have a think about it, and I’ll come over tonight and talk about it some more?”
Jane’s heart was in the right place, Sarah knew that. And what made it worse was she truly believed Jane understood her condition. She certainly knew Sarah better than anybody else had in recent years. In almost a positive twist, for Jane to suggest a lunch date in public showed she was obviously confident in Sarah’s progress and could even be right. Maybe it was time to go to that next level. Still not convinced, but at least moving her mind from a place of pessimism to one of skeptical optimism, Sarah agreed to think about it and discuss it later.
“Great!” Jane’s voice lifted again, perhaps taking Sarah’s concession to consider going out for a lunch as a ‘yes’ rather than the solid ‘maybe’ it still was. “Hey how did the article go? The vegan thing?”
Sarah welcomed the change of subject, and instantly felt some of the pressure fall away from her. She wasn’t angry at Jane for her suggestion at all, yet she did feel like she had been put on the spot a little bit. It was almost as though she had been asked on a date by a man she just didn’t think of in that way.
“It was good actually. Well, I think it was good. No re-writes needed so I can’t complain.”
“Good, I knew you’d get it done. It hasn’t swayed you has it? If we do lunch, we don’t need to find a vegan place?” Jane joked, further lightening the mood of the conversation and Sarah’s awkwardness disappeared.
She laughed and replied, “I did learn some things I didn’t know, I’ll admit that. But no, it’s not for me. It would be disrespectful of our ancestors who climbed the food chain to throw it all away now!”
Jane giggled like a child hearing a dirty joke for the first time, and Sarah thought it was partly due to some relief that she hadn’t overstepped the mark or pushed too hard with the exposure therapy.
“Ok, I’ll come over when I finish tonight if that suits you? And I’m bringing takeout.”
“Perfect. Make sure there’s meat,” Sarah joked, but as the words fell out, the smile on her face fell with them.
Make sure there’s meat. Make sure there’s murder.
She couldn’t help but think of the hooded person with the sign again as she spoke.
Sarah ended the call and placed the phone on the table next to her, troubled by her memory of a week ago. She looked over at the back door, remembering the tears that had streamed down her face while she pushed the door closed from her collapsed position on her knees. Pushing so hard against the door, trying to keep out a terror that wasn’t even trying to get in. The way she had stayed on her knees for minutes. Sobbing, wondering if she was going crazy. She had stayed there so long the muscles in her legs had cramped up and she had needed to grab the door handle to leverage herself back upright again.
The thing that scared her most though, wasn’t the memory of being stuck on the floor, unable to get up. Sitting there now, she looked down at her phone on the empty table in front of her, and something troubled her even more.
CHAPTER 13
Sarah walked to the electric wall heater in the living room and turned it up a couple of notches. She felt cold inside all of a sudden, and couldn’t tell if the temperature in the house had dropped or whether she just felt chilled by the thoughts running through her head. Letting herself fall into the lounge chair closest to the heater, she hoped to harness some of its direct heat before it had the chance to fill the whole room.
She gripped her phone tightly for no other reason than the fact it had become the source of her current distress. Jane had asked her how the vegan article had gone, or if she was able to finish it. Something like that, she couldn’t remember the exact question. But the discussion point alone had taken Sarah’s mind back to the day the hooded figure had stared at her from across the street, displaying the ‘MEAT IS MURDER’ sign in all of its nerve-rattling glory. She thought again of the terror which had crawled under her skin afterwards, when the person on the balcony had frantically altered the sign to ensure it showed her the part they intended Sarah to take particular note of. ‘MURDER’.
Something was terribly wrong with the whole situation, aside from the glaringly obvious fact she was being taunted by somebody who knew more than they should about her. That was horrifying enough, but there was something more starting to eat away at her.
Jane.
Jane had asked about the article, and Sarah was now searching her memory, trying to find a moment to set her mind at ease. But nothing would come. She hadn’t mentioned anything to Jane about the article she was writing.
She tried painstakingly to remember every moment since receiving Jim Newborn’s email with the article request. Tried to remember every time she had seen Jane or spoken to her. She peeled back unnecessary memories trying to find a phone call, a text message, a conversation. Anything to confirm she was imagining things and had actually spoken to Jane about the article.
She pored over the times they had walked to the end of her street, but could only remember discussing what had been happening in Jane’s life on those occasions. She tried to remember the conversation at the checkout of the Everyday with Jane and her colleague Brooke. She had met someone new, surely she could have been asked what she did for a living?
Again, nothing.
It
was something Sarah would be able to recall vividly if it had occurred too, because it would have made her uncomfortable to tell people she was a writer. It was the closest way of describing what she did, although it didn’t sit comfortably with her to talk about it.
She couldn’t remember speaking to Jane any other times. She hadn’t told her about what she’d seen from her front porch, and absolutely hadn’t mentioned the MURDER sign on the balcony. Sarah hadn’t mentioned any of those recent troubles to Jane at all. Although she could confide in Jane, she wasn’t ready to risk appearing insane. At least, she thought she could confide in Jane until now. The doubts were creeping in, sliding like a reptile over a small hill on the horizon, its eyes fixed on some helpless prey. In this instance, the prey was Sarah’s happiness. Her comfort in having found a new friend, someone she could trust.
So, the next question Sarah had to ask herself was why. Or maybe it was how. The matter of how Jane knew about her article was certainly important, given she was convinced she hadn’t mentioned it to her. She was at a loss though. Unless Jane had somehow accessed her emails, there was really no way she could know. There was nobody else who knew about the article, with the exception of Jim Newborn and probably some other staff at Change 4 Good, and their office was so far away from Calston that any connection between them and Jane seemed impossible.
If she couldn’t solve the mystery of how Jane knew, she realized the answer to why she knew would continue to elude her. It did force her to examine recent events in more detail though.
The wind had picked up outside and rattled the window to her left. Coupled with the rain being blown sideways into the glass, she became distracted by the weather’s noise, unable to think clearly. She stood and looked out the window as the rain rolled down the glass in front of her, forming small rivers of water, all in varying density. The sky outside was clouded over, and although it was the middle of the day, a pale darkness hung over the street, making everything seem more like dusk.
Sarah Before Page 11
