Inescapable

by C. J. Fallowfield

  I checked my beautiful new Rolex, and sighed. I’d been waiting here for her for three and a half hours. It was getting late and I had an early start in the morning. Part of me felt hurt that she was taking my impending departure so lightly, because I wasn’t. It was ripping me apart on the inside to even think about leaving her. She was my only family.

  It was over an hour later when she finally stumbled into the lounge. Her clothes were dishevelled, and she stank like an ashtray and brewery rolled into one, which made my nose automatically wrinkle in disgust.

  ‘Oh look. Princess Isabelle has decided to grace the commoners with her presence,’ she said, mocking my accent, as well as my new appearance. ‘To what do we owe the honour, m’lady?’

  ‘You know what, Shaz, less of the sarcasm please. I’ve been waiting for nearly five hours, we had dinner reservations.’

  ‘Oh, dinner now is it? I haven’t heard you call it dinner since you arrived at St. Catherine’s when you were a snobby eleven-year-old. Tea, that’s what you were calling it before he came along.’

  ‘Really, you’re going to start this again, on our last night together? I was really looking forward to a nice meal and a few glasses of wine with my best friend, as we reminisced.’

  ‘And I was looking forward to getting pissed in the pub with me mate, then picking up a greasy kebab on the way home, like we always do, or did. I guess we’re both disappointed.’ She hiccupped and belched loudly. Then giggled.

  I didn’t. I was tired, upset, and confused. I’d really wanted to talk this huge decision through with her before it was too late, but right now I was seriously annoyed with her.

  ‘Well, it certainly looks like you got the getting pissed part of it down pat.’

  ‘Yeah, well I needed to be drunk to try and stomach the fact that you’re with that arsehole.’

  ‘He’s done nothing but try and be nice to you,’ I reminded her, as she lurched over to the armchair and flopped into it, pulling a crushed packet of cigarettes out of her pocket.

  ‘Try, yeah, he’s tried alright, but I see through him. He’s just biding his time, so he doesn’t piss you off and lose you. Project Izzie, his finest creation. He can’t let you go after investing so much time and money into shaping you into the perfect Stepford wife.’

  ‘You’re talking rubbish again. And it’s you that’s losing me, in about …’ I checked my watch again, my heart constricting as I realised how little time left I had with her. ‘Seven hours, which is why I’m feeling kind of upset that you’d rather get shit-faced than spend the evening with me.’

  ‘I wanted to get shit-faced with you,’ she yelled, as her brows drew together into a scowl. ‘The Izzie who used to drink dregs out of stray pint glasses at closing time, because we couldn’t afford to buy a drink, and who picked up fag butts off the ground, so we could try and cobble them together and make a ciggie we could share. The Izzie who once started a fight with a guy twice her size because he called me a slapper. I wanted to spend the night with that Izzie, scrappy, feisty Izzie, not this …’ she waved her unlit crumpled cigarette in my direction as she pulled a face, ‘pathetic girly-girl he’s turned you into, with your fancy clothes and stupid blonde hair. Which I hate by the way, almost as much as I hate him!’

  ‘Other than the hair colour, and fancy clothes, this is who I always was, and it didn’t stop you becoming my best friend back then. So, I’ve developed a few bad habits over the years, I never thought you’d hold my past against me.’

  ‘And I never thought you’d look down your nose at me. Like I said before, guess we’re both disappointed, huh?’

  ‘I’ve never looked down my nose at you.’

  ‘Doing it now,’ she retorted, as she went cross-eyed trying to connect the flame to the end of her cigarette.

  ‘Jesus, you’re going to set your hair on fire, or the flat.’ I sighed, totally exasperated and not in the mood for a fight. I walked over to prise the lighter out of her hands, struck the flint wheel and did the honours for her. ‘There.’

  ‘Suppose you expect me to thank you now, huh?’

  ‘I didn’t expect anything, other than a chance to talk, Sharon Mackie, but I refuse to spend what’s left of my time here arguing with you, so unless you’re going to play nice, I’m going to bed.’

  ‘Sure you’re not gonna catch fleas from spending too long down here in the squalor with me? I’m amazed you hadn’t forgotten me already.’

  ‘Forgotten you?’ My voice rose a few octaves in indignation. ‘You think I could ever forget you? That you mean that little to me? Seriously, that’s really how you want to play this?’ I’d never felt more let down by anyone in my life. Not even by my parents. I shook my head with tears in my eyes as she shrugged and turned her head to stare out of the window.

  My shoulders slumped in defeat and I headed back towards my old room. It was too late to call Richard to come and get me. Besides, despite having hours of nothing to do as I waited for her, I hadn’t even got around to finishing packing up my belongings yet. I guess I was waiting to see how our conversation went, before I took that final step and closed my suitcase, but she’d royally screwed that up.

  ‘You know you … you haven’t … even said … that you love him, Izzie,’ she yelled after me, making me halt in my tracks. I was about to turn around, when she followed her statement up with a ‘Jesus, I think I’m going to blow.’

  I rushed into the pokey kitchen and grabbed the washing up bowl, then raced back to the lounge, too late. She’d thrown up all over herself and extinguished her cigarette in the process.

  ‘Sharon Mackie,’ I sighed, shaking my head. ‘You were born to test my patience.’ I shoved the bowl on the table and grimaced at the stench of her as I levered her up into my arms, covering my designer dress in her sick in the process. ‘Come on, I’m getting you in the shower and then putting you to bed. You’re going to have to sleep with me so I can watch you and make sure you don’t choke to death on your own vomit while you sleep.’

  ‘You know this will be my life if you leave me,’ she mumbled. ‘Choking on my sick, with no one to save me.’

  I closed my eyes for a moment as her words sank in. It was true, she’d been on a self-destructive path, that was never going to end well, for far too long now, dragging me along with her. If something didn’t change she was destined to follow her own mother’s path, spiralling from drink to drugs and goodness knows where she’d end up. But until now, I hadn’t seen a chance at saving either one of us, until Richard had dared me to step into his world and try it on for size.

  It was after one by the time I’d cleaned her up, dried her hair, and settled her down in my bed. After a quick shower myself, I threw my soiled dress into the washing machine and pulled on my favourite fleecy pyjamas from my small chest of drawers. I climbed into bed next to her and gently swept her hair out of her eyes as I checked she was still breathing.

  ‘Shaz, are you awake? I don’t want to keep fighting and I really need to talk to you.’

  My question was met with a soft snore. She was out for the count. White heat burned the back of my eyes as I started to cry, gut-wrenching ugly tears of frustration. Only this time, our last night together didn’t emulate our first. This time she didn’t wake up and comfort me, which left me with a gaping wound in my chest.

  When the alarm on my new fancy phone woke me up the following morning, I was alone. The flat was completely silent, and a quick check of each of the rooms told me she’d left, without even saying goodbye. I squashed down my hurt and anger, and hastily dressed in the change of clothes I’d brought with me, before thrusting the remaining belongings I’d had pre-Richard into my small case. When I was done I nearly ruined all of my careful packing by frantically searching the case to make sure I had my favourite framed picture of Shaz and me. I just stared at it for a few moments with a heavy heart, before wrapping it up back up again in a jumper to protect it. I refused to shed any more tears for her, when she’d obviously decided she c
ouldn’t shed any for me.

  I was just doing up the zip on the case, when I heard the front door open and close. I looked up to see her leaning against the doorframe, looking like hell and swigging from a half empty bottle of whiskey.

  ‘It’s not even seven in the morning, and you were sick as a dog last night,’ I reminded her with a sigh.

  ‘So?’

  ‘This isn’t like you, Shaz. Especially not sneaking out in the night, letting me think I wasn’t ever going to see you again.’ I pulled my case off the bed and put it on the floor, wobbling as I nearly turned my ankle over in these damn heels. I missed my trainers.

  ‘Well this clearly isn’t you, Izzie.’

  ‘Maybe it is,’ I retorted, annoyed at her continued lack of enthusiasm for my change in fortune, which unbeknown to her was going to change hers, too. ‘Maybe he’s just turned me back into the person I was always meant to be.’

  ‘Bullshit. He’s a fucking control freak, trying to make you into someone he’s not ashamed to show off on his arm, and isolating you so you become dependent on him. This is the first time we’ve been allowed to be alone together, since the night you met him.’

  ‘Why can’t you just be happy for me? How long have we talked about getting out of this shit-hole, fantasised about someone sweeping us off our feet and our luck changing? I could never afford to follow my dream to go to art college here, but he’s going to pay for me to go over there. Everything’s about to change.’

  ‘For you.’ She let out a derisive snort. ‘You get to live the dream, while I’m still stuck in shit-hole reality.’

  ‘He promised me that he’d help you. As soon as we get to Washington, we’re going to the bank and he’s going to open an expense account for me. With the allowance he’s going to give me each month, I can afford to send you more than you could earn, you could rent a really nice place for yourself. Of course, if you’d been here last night, I would have explained all of that.’

  ‘Whatever. If you believe that, your posh education was wasted on you. I’m telling you that you’re either going to be sold as a sex slave the minute you touch down, or enrolled into some crazy cult. They’re all nutters over there.’

  ‘Your overactive imagination is still as vivid as ever,’ I replied with an exasperated sigh.

  ‘And you’re still far too trusting for your own good. Fuck, Izzie, I don’t have no one either, but you don’t see me begging for scraps at the feet of anyone prepared to throw some attention and affection my way. You barely know him. He creeps me out.’

  ‘You barely know him,’ I shot back. ‘You’re so far up there on your high and judgemental bloody horse, to have even taken the time to try and get to know him. He loves me!’

  ‘Loves to control you.’

  ‘Screw you, Shaz,’ I bit. Couldn’t she see that he was offering us both a lifeline? ‘You don’t know anything.’

  ‘Yeah, well I know that six months with him, means more to you than six years of friendship with me.’

  ‘How can you say that?’ I whispered, her words lancing my heart. Blood couldn’t have made us closer if she really was my sister and not just my best friend.

  ‘Because you’re leaving me,’ she said flatly. We stood staring at each other for a moment, emotion welling in both of our eyes, before she quickly dragged her arm across hers.

  ‘I’m taking a chance to make both of our lives better,’ I whispered. ‘Once I’m settled I could pay for you to come over, you might end up wanting to stay.’

  ‘No, I won’t. I’ll never leave Glasgow. It’s my home.’

  ‘It was mine too, but things change. Shit, he’ll be here any minute. I don’t want to part on a fight. Can we please hug it out? I don’t know when I’ll next see you.’ I opened my arms, fully expecting her to run into them, like she always did after we’d had a fall out. But this time she glared at me. I got the full on angry Sharon Mackie that had glared at me when I stood in her bedroom the first day we met.

  ‘Don’t expect any emotional shit from me, not when you’re the one leaving me behind. Or for me to come and wish you bon fucking voyage. You leave Glasgow, it’s your funeral. Maybe one day I’ll see you back around this crappy estate again, with your tail between your legs, stuffing a whole lotta humble pie in your mouth as you try to win back my friendship, eh? Or maybe by then I’ll have moved on with my life, too. See you, Izzie, it was great while it lasted.’

  ‘Shaz!’ I cried as she took off and stormed up the corridor. I tried to run after her, catching my heel in the now threadbare, former orange and brown patterned carpet, and stumbled into the wall as I heard the front door slam behind her. ‘Stupid, fucking heels,’ I cursed, wrenching them off my feet and racing barefoot to the door to follow her.

  ‘Shaz,’ I yelled as I threw it open, and barrelled straight into Richard’s firm chest. He grabbed my upper arms and steadied me as I looked left and right for her, but she was nowhere to be seen.

  ‘Hey, what’s the matter?’ he asked as I burst into tears. Again.

  ‘I had a fight with Shaz,’ I sobbed.

  ‘How many times have I told you, Izzie, her name’s Sharon. Shaz is so vulgar,’ he sighed with a slight shudder. ‘Now where are your shoes, and your case? We need to leave for the airport if we don’t want to miss our flight.’

  ‘In the … in the … bedroom, but I need to find her first.’

  ‘We don’t have time, Izzie, you asked me to let you stay here last night to say your goodbyes and, against my better judgement, I agreed. Now you promised me you’d be ready to go at seven a.m. and it’s a minute past.’

  ‘But she’s … my best friend. My everything,’ I choked. I was completely torn. Right this second, I had no idea if I should leave Glasgow or stay.

  ‘I’m your everything now, Isabelle Knight. I love you and I promised that I’d give you the kind of life you’d never imagine in your wildest dreams. You just have to grab your case and come with me for it to start. You can contact Sharon as soon as we get home, and once she’s calmed down we can see about bringing her over to join us.’

  ‘You’d really do that for her?’ I sniffed.

  ‘I’d do it for you,’ he stated, as he let go of my arms and clasped my face, sweeping the droplets of water clinging to my cheeks away with his thumbs as he held my gaze. ‘But only if you come with me now. You know that I have to be back in Washington tonight. If you choose to stay to go and look for your friend, I won’t stop you. But, let me be clear, you’ll condemn both of you to a lifetime of poverty and misery, as I’ll leave without you and I won’t come back. I’ve already pursued you, and put myself out for you, and Richard King isn’t a man who likes to chase, Isabelle. I could have had my pick from any number of well-bred American women, and instead I chose you. And I certainly don’t make a habit out of offering golden opportunities to down and outs from the slums.’

  ‘Richard,’ I whispered. He could be so blunt and harsh sometimes. But his words had a certain amount of credence as well. He could have anyone he wanted. He was handsome, intelligent, filthy rich, well he was by my standards, and connected. And he’d chosen me. He loved me. He was offering me the fantasy that usually only happened in the movies, the kind of opportunity that probably only came along once in a lifetime. If you were lucky enough.

  ‘Choose,’ he demanded. ‘And choose right this second or I’m gone. Me or her, Isabelle.’

  Looking back, I should have trusted my gut instinct in that moment.

  I should have listened to those niggling doubts plaguing my thoughts.

  I could have spared myself a whole lot of pain.

  And maybe, just maybe, I would have been happy.

  As Shaz used to say, “shoulda, coulda, woulda.”

  Chapter One

  Isabelle Knight

  August - Nine Years Later

  Washington D.C.

  ‘YOU LOOK BEAUTIFUL. DO we have a dinner reservation that I forgot about?’ Richard asked, lifting the remote to pause
the TV as his eyes scanned me slowly from top to toe.

  ‘No,’ I replied hesitantly, shifting uncomfortably on my slender high heels as I took a nervous gulp. ‘I … I told you that I was going out with Dawn.’

  ‘No,’ he responded firmly, any warmth that had been in his voice when he complimented me having left in an instant. ‘You didn’t, Izzie.’

  ‘Yes, I did,’ I replied, a cold shiver running down my back at his tone. ‘I arranged it last month, you agreed. And I reminded you again on Monday and you said it was okay for me to go.’

  ‘Don’t tell me what I did, or didn’t, say. You know I hate it when you contradict me. Monday was five days ago and I’m perfectly entitled to change my mind. Did you ask my permission again this morning?’ His steely gaze made my stomach do a nervous flip as I bit down on my lower lip.

  ‘No,’ I whispered, taking a few steps back as he rose up from the leather sectional. The sound of my heels on the polished concrete floor resonated in the silence, almost louder than the sudden thumping of my heart against my ribcage. Almost. I could sense the shift in the atmosphere, a sudden simmering of his repressed anger rising to the surface. It was almost as if the very air around me was quaking.

  ‘You know the rules, Isabelle.’ He said my full name slowly, over pronouncing it. It was always the first indication that I’d displeased him. They say that some animals can sense when an earthquake is about to hit, and either go berserk or flee their homes in droves. When he called me Isabelle it was my warning sign that he was about to hit. Only I didn’t have the luxury of being able to flee.

  ‘But you said I could,’ I said quietly.

  ‘Not today, I didn’t. You know that you can never leave the house without me, unless I give my consent on the day. What made you think that this time would be any different?’ He squeezed his hands into tight fists, his knuckles turning white, making my breath hitch. I held that breath as he stretched his fingers out, laced them together and cracked his knuckles. The noise brought back painful memories of the last time he’d broken my bones.