Lonely Girl

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Lonely Girl Page 4

by Lynne Vincent McCarthy


  ‘How’ve you been keeping, Henry?’

  She looks up to see Lenny serving an old biker who’s just entered. He’s one of their regulars who recently lost his wife. Ana assumes she used to trim his beard for him because over the past months it’s grown increasingly unkempt. He looks like he had a hard night.

  ‘Ah, you know how it is, I wake up every day expecting the sound of the kettle and the smell of bacon.’ He includes Ana in the tired smile he gives Lenny, not knowing neither of them has a clue ‘how it is’.

  He thinks you’re a couple!

  Ana feels her face flushing as Lenny glances across, presumably with the exact same thought. She keeps her head down but studies Lenny’s ease as he bags Henry’s purchase and takes his cash. No longer the gawky young man of her memory, Lenny has grown into his role as responsible citizen of the town. Instinctively knowing there’s nothing to say Lenny exchanges a small smile with Henry.

  He makes people comfortable, Ana realises. Even she feels calmer in his presence. Or used to.

  They both follow Henry’s progress to the exit where he politely steps aside as Kristy finally makes an appearance, the obligatory mobile phone held to her ear. Like Ana, she wears a white uniform but somehow manages to make it look like she’s just stepped off the set of a homemade porn film. From the wide grin Henry throws back at Lenny on his way out it’s clear he got the naughty nurse persona she’s going for loud and clear. It’s improved his day at least.

  Kristy is the embodiment of that golden girl every introvert loves to hate. Born confident, she cruises through life, seemingly without any of the fear or doubt that plagues Ana. Unfazed by her lateness she leers at Henry’s retreating back as she pauses in the entrance, carrying on her conversation. ‘Of course you have to bring me a present. It’s a birthday party!’ She spots Lenny watching her and mutters into the phone before she hangs up and heads for the counter to stash her bag under the register.

  Ana pretends to be finishing up her list while she watches Kristy head straight to the makeup section where she takes her time hunting through lipstick samples.

  Kristy peers into the mirror and expertly applies a coat of bright red on her perfectly cushioned lips. She glances up, noticing both Lenny and Ana studying her.

  ‘What? You can’t buy better advertising than this.’

  When Kristy gets absolutely no response she finally picks up on the awkward energy between them. As she looks from one to the other a knowing smirk grows on her face.

  ‘Something you two need to tell me?’

  SIX

  The sun has disappeared behind a bank of dark clouds when Ana starts her journey home. There’ll be no afternoon walk so no need to rush to beat the weather, but River’s body clock will still be telling him she should be home by now regardless. As she passes through town she’s trying to push that awful kiss from her head but it keeps creeping back in. She’s never felt anything remotely like desire for Lenny and is disturbed by it now. The longing she felt wasn’t for him, she knew that the moment his mouth started to move against hers, like a baby bird demanding to be fed.

  They’ve known each other since they were teenagers – it was his dad who delivered the heavy hitting drugs when her grandmother’s pain got too hard to bear and when he couldn’t get away himself he sent his son. Lenny never bothered to hide his initial reluctance to befriend Ana; two years older and almost a man, he only spent time with her at his father’s insistence. Old Mr Mantel had taken a shine to Ana for some reason – maybe it was just because he felt sorry for her, already burdened beyond her years with the care of a terminally ill woman who refused to die anywhere but in her own bed. Maybe he was hoping his loner of a son would also take a shine to the quiet young girl who listened so diligently on his visits and never once failed to offer him a cup of tea.

  It was River that she and Lenny first bonded over but as time went on they were surprised to find they had things in common, both only children who preferred their own company, both gravitating more to fantasy than real life. Both with a habit of laughing at things no one else found funny.

  By the time Irena died they’d gotten used to each other and would take the occasional drive into Hobart to see the latest new release movie. It was only a few years later that Mr Mantel was taken by a sudden massive heart attack. Lenny had finished his degree and was mostly running the business on his own by then and when the cash from Ana’s inheritance ran out, he didn’t hesitate to offer her a job, keeping her on even when it became clear how useless she was with the customers. She’d got better at dealing with them over the years but it had been a challenge. She had been a challenge but, despite that, Lenny remained loyal. Even when his mother insisted he employ his cousin it was him who came up with the compromise that they job-share. It was only meant to be a temporary solution but once Kristy realised Ana’s preference for the morning shift meant she could have most of the late starts it worked out for everyone.

  Now, because of one uncharacteristic spontaneous moment, she’s alienated the only friend she’s ever had.

  She’s also made what she has to do even harder.

  Ana automatically slows as she approaches the intersection on the outskirts of town, the one that splits traffic between the well-used road up north and the lesser-used one looping inland around the mountain. Signs of civilisation are more sporadic here, most significantly the petrol station on the intersection and, beyond that, at the start of the forest road, a long squat building which stands out like an eyesore against the wild beauty of the surrounding landscape.

  The roadside bar has been there as long as Ana can remember, long enough for her mother to have been a regular. Normally she zones it out but her eye is drawn by the flicker of the neon sign coming to life. Like the low-rent establishment it fronts, the American diner-inspired signage is a hangover from the eighties. It might be trendy again now, like Lenny’s old man clothes, but that still can’t disguise the fact that ‘Rocky’s’ is a dump. Of course Ana only knows the place by reputation, never having set foot inside it herself.

  She’s just turned onto the forest road when she notices a flash of movement. In the far corner of the carpark, a man and a woman are struggling. It happens so quickly. The woman breaks free but he makes a grab for her, forcing her into the back of a white van.

  Ana brakes, automatically flinging an arm out to stop River pitching off the seat even though he’s not with her. She looks back but can no longer see them. She’s gone too far past. Without thinking Ana slams her car into reverse, almost jumping out of her skin when a horn blares and a log truck barrels past, narrowly avoiding a collision.

  She’s level with the entrance to the carpark now but the couple are gone. The van is still there though, isolated against the backdrop of the forest.

  Tiny prickles of fear attack the back of Ana’s neck but the closed doors of the van are calling loudly to her. She has to know what it was she just saw. She shifts gears and inches her way in. The carpark is not much more than a vacant lot and she cringes at the crunching sound her wheels make as they hit loose gravel.

  She pulls up as close as she dares and kills the engine.

  A rough gash of red mars one of the back fenders. At first Ana fears it might be blood but it’s the wrong shade. It’s just a paint scraping from a recent sideswipe. She winds down her window, ears straining to pick up anything from inside the van.

  Muffled sounds of distress drift her way, leaking out from behind the closed doors.

  Steeling herself, Ana climbs out but remains inside the barrier of her car door as she quickly scans the place. Another two cars are parked close to the entrance of the building, one of them no doubt belonging to whoever turned the neon sign on moments ago, but they’re nowhere to be seen.

  Ana leaves the door hanging open behind her as she creeps her way across the roughly laid gravel, aware of the soft crunch of her footsteps. She treads more carefully as she edges up to the back window. She waits there, forcing herself
to take a long deep breath before peering through the grimy glass.

  It takes a moment for her to realise what she’s seeing.

  Ana pulls back, clutching onto the side of the van for support, teeth grinding into her bottom lip to stop herself crying out. She tastes blood at the same time as she registers the throbbing movement of the van under her hands.

  Music suddenly blares out from inside Rocky’s, startling her, but the volume is immediately turned down. She casts her eyes around but the entrance remains closed and the carpark still deserted. Apart from the couple in the van she is quite alone.

  Ana knows she should walk away now but even as she thinks it she feels her body spiralling back into the hard surface of the vehicle, cheek pressing against the cold glass at the edge of the window. Her breathing falters as the rest of her catches up, eyes drinking in the tangled movement of limbs behind glass. What she assumed was an act of violence was foreplay to consensual sex, albeit on the rough side.

  All she can see of the man is his back. The woman lies under him on a makeshift bed, a piece of colourful fabric twisted tightly in one hand. Her other reaches behind his head, pulling him roughly to her, kissing him hard before falling back down. One of his hands traps both of hers while his other pushes her head back, roughly caressing her neck … her jaw. Two fingers probing into her mouth. She arches her body up to his, face naked with desire. Completely abandoned.

  Ana is instantly transported back through time, standing in the garden on the other side of her mother’s bedroom window, bare feet in the damp earth watching the hunched figure of a man, naked haunches moving on the bed. His humanness shed along with his clothes hanging in a mess over the door of the wardrobe, obscuring most of the mirror. But for the small patch reflecting her mother’s face.

  The eyes looking back at Ana now don’t belong to her mother. Dilated pupils make the woman’s eyes almost black as she traps Ana in her gaze. Time seems to stand still as Ana hangs there suspended, unable to move, watching an amused smile grow on the woman’s face. A smile that the man clearly registers as he shifts to follow her gaze, turning to look behind …

  Ana pulls away, hurrying back to her car, shoes sliding on the gravel, one knee hitting the ground. She glances over her shoulder as she scrambles up, sharp stones digging into her palm, expecting to see the van door ripped open behind her but it remains closed.

  Driving away she has the strangest sensation of leaving a part of herself behind, still caught in the net cast by the woman’s eyes.

  *

  Ana’s thoughts are still consumed by the couple when she reaches home but they’re put on hold the moment she enters. She’s surprised to find River standing at the end of the hallway, ball in mouth, tail wagging.

  He looks so much better in her eyes that she immediately wonders if Ruth could have got it wrong. Maybe she just pushed him too far out there in the forest. Tomorrow she’ll take him back and insist Ruth do those tests. They’ll take shorter walks from now on. He won’t like it but he’ll adjust. They both will. Her thoughts come to a sudden halt the second River starts down the hallway towards her.

  Still limping.

  Who’s he walking for, Ana?

  She sees the effort it takes for him to move even those few steps.

  ‘No,’ she says. ‘You still need to rest.’

  River drops the ball and sits, waiting for his pat and kiss on the head.

  ‘You hungry, boy?’

  He gives her hand a lick and limps back down the hallway, following her into the kitchen. Ana crosses to the fridge and pulls out a saucepan, from which she spoons a bland looking chicken and rice mixture into River’s bowl.

  She stands there waiting for him to eat but he just sniffs at it and looks up at her.

  ‘Just a little bit. For me.’

  He makes a token effort but mostly just pushes it around his bowl.

  Deflated, Ana picks up his medication and crouches to drop some on his tongue. He obediently takes it, leaning into her as he lowers himself to the floor. Ana absently strokes the soft down of his ear as she gazes at the bottle in her hand. Morphine based, Ruth had said. In combination with the pills in the drawer, it might be enough, but she can’t be sure.

  Crouched there by River’s side Ana’s attention shifts to the stinging of her knee and the couple creep back into her thoughts.

  What were they even doing out there in the middle of the afternoon?

  There are specks of blood on the hem of her uniform but the graze has stopped bleeding now. It feels worse than it looks but she’ll probably have a nasty bruise. Ana pulls off her uniform as she gets up. In the corner of the kitchen is a door connecting the house to the adjacent garage and Ana heads through there now to spot-wash her uniform at the laundry tub. She shivers as a chill rises up from the concrete over her barely clad body but it feels good against her skin.

  While she’s standing over the tub, scrubbing at the bloodstain, it hits her that for the brief time she was with the couple she had a respite from thoughts of River and the grief that’s been slowly building in her for months now. In those moments peering through the glass, she felt something unexpected and more confronting than she could have imagined. Rather than standing on the outside looking in, it felt like it was happening directly to her, like she was a part of something bigger than herself and her small safe world. Something she’s only now able to name.

  She felt alive.

  It makes her feel disloyal to River to be even momentarily swayed from their shared path but she can still see the woman’s face gazing back at her. In the moment their eyes met Ana felt seen in a way she has never been before. It was like she injected her, shot her veins full of something dark and viscous, something impossible to flush out. She can feel it now moving under her skin. Like the movement of the sinewy muscles under the bare skin of the man’s back.

  The woman she sees whole but the man is less substantial. She can grasp him only in fragments. His black hair wet with sweat, his hands on the woman’s body … the edge of his face as he starts to turn …

  Ana tries to stay in that moment but her mind refuses to co-operate. The man remains static. Paused within a single frame. If only she’d lingered a fraction of a moment longer. Long enough to get a glimpse of his face. She wants to know if it was as full of desire as the woman’s, but no matter how hard she tries she can’t see it.

  Both her memory and her imagination stop there.

  *

  The moon is high and every now and again breaks free of the dark clouds that obscure it, illuminating Ana’s bedroom with a strange but intermittent otherworldly glow.

  Rather than put a bed down for River on the floor, Ana has pulled apart her own bed. The base now leans against the wall with the mattress laid down on the floor to give River easier access. He lies stretched out along Ana’s side, softly snoring.

  Ana lies on her back staring up at the blank canvas of the ceiling, noting how much larger it looks from the floor.

  She’s been trying to let the couple go but they keep edging their way back in. Her mind keeps betraying her. She closes her eyes but has to open them again. Instead of the ceiling of her bedroom it’s the roof of the interior of the van she sees. Not simply caught by the woman’s gaze now but seeing through her eyes.

  SEVEN

  The rain started in a fierce downpour during the night and hasn’t let up since. Ana heard it all through her long hours of wakefulness. She’s watching it now through the glass front of the shop, falling like sheets of static between her and the rest of the world. Ordinarily the full-length windows make her feel exposed but on days like this it’s as though she’s cocooned inside a capsule, out of time with the rest of the world. The occasional glimpse of people passing by only heightens the impression, their movements sped up, heads down, focused on the shortest path to get where they need to go. Hopefully, anywhere but here.

  It’s Lenny’s morning off and she’s been at work for a few hours now, after opening on
her own. With Lenny the only one qualified to dispense drugs it’s his one way to get time off. She heard him earlier, shuffling about upstairs, so she knows he’s awake and ready to dash down if anyone should come in needing an urgent prescription filled.

  It’s not the ideal scenario, which is why he encouraged Ana to take up the pharmacology degree a few years back and why he was so frustrated when she deferred after completing the first year. She kept promising she’d go back and for a while she even believed it but eventually Lenny stopped bringing it up. She actually liked the study and was good at it but the pressure to perform, along with the sheer number of people she had to interact with on a daily basis, got to her in the end. The anxiety it induced had her constantly on edge and the long hours away from River were hard on them both.

  Having to deal with the customers in the shop is challenging enough. It was easier when River came to work with her – his comfort with people almost made up for her lack – but without him as a buffer she’s had to find other ways to cope. When she first started doing mornings on her own she’d simply slip on a pair of the generic glasses they stock, hazing her twenty-twenty vision with just enough of a veil to give that sense of separation she needed but not enough to stop her functioning.

  What she’d love to do is wear a mask – even a large paper bag on her head would do – but she doubts Lenny would go for it. In the absence of that, from time to time she masks herself by pretending she’s someone else, whoever she’s watched long enough to get a feel for their mannerisms. She can’t do it with Lenny or Kristy around – they know her too well – so on most days she’s stuck with herself.

 

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