The Life She Wants

by J. M. Hewitt

She had ripped off a glove, holding it in her teeth as she stabbed at the phone buttons to bring up Mark’s text message. At Patrick’s words, she paused and looked up at him.

  ‘Did you? What did he say to you?’

  He jerked his head towards her phone, a silent instruction to show him the text. She obeyed, holding it up for him to see.

  He read it once and nodded. ‘I suppose I’ll have to wait until he deigns to tell me when he’s coming back to work,’ he said.

  Anna shrugged and kept her eyes on his. ‘I’m sorry for any misunderstanding,’ she said.

  He didn’t press her to elaborate, and for that, she was thankful. He had thought she was lying, back there in the Arctic Suite, and he had tricked her with a false name for Mark’s wife. But now it seemed Mark had made contact, and Patrick seemed more irritated that he was a crew member short.

  His exasperation had overridden his scepticism.

  Anna smiled and lifted her hand in a wave as she walked slowly back the way she had come.

  * * *

  ‘It’s barely even light yet,’ said Paula as she stared out of the floor-to-ceiling window in the restaurant. She turned to Tommy. ‘What time is it?’

  He glanced at his watch. ‘Nearly nine.’

  She faced the window again. Outside, the waves crashed against the hull of the boat and spat up a spray of frothy white water. Beyond the glass, the sky was a strange greyish brown. Daytime had arrived, the frights of the night were gone, but here in this bizarre land it still seemed like twilight.

  ‘They don’t get many hours of daylight here, not at this time of year,’ said Tommy as he edged his chair around to follow her gaze.

  The tannoy played its familiar soothing tune, and Paula sat up straight.

  ‘Not long now, fellow travellers, and we’ll be docking in Skarfabakki. From here, you will have the day to explore whatever takes your fancy: the famous Blue Lagoon with its thermal pools; or if you’re interested in Iceland’s Viking roots, you can visit the National Museum or the Settlement Exhibition. If you are attracted by the epic nature and landscape that this magical land has to offer, why not try a day trip to the mighty Gullfoss waterfall, or the geothermal scenery near the Reykjanes Peninsula?

  ‘Daylight fades quickly here, so please make sure you are back at the ship and on board on time. You know the rule: if you’re late, the ship won’t wait!’

  The captain’s cheery tones belied his warning, thought Paula. A heavy click that resounded around the ship signalled that his announcement was over. Beneath them, the Ruby Spirit juddered and whirred. Tommy stood up and moved across to the window.

  ‘We’re docking!’ he cried.

  Paula abandoned her coffee and went over to join him. Despite the gloom, her heart lifted. Tommy was right: she could see boats and buildings and cranes, and beyond them, lush green grass that poked up through a thin covering of snow.

  ‘Thank goodness,’ she murmured.

  As they moved slowly closer to civilisation, she put a hand to her chest. She hadn’t realised just how much she’d been suffering from cabin fever until she’d laid eyes on the land outside.

  She touched Tommy’s shoulder. ‘How long until we can get off?’

  He tilted his head towards her, one eyebrow raised. ‘Someone’s eager.’

  She nodded. The ship was claustrophobic, stifling, and she wanted nothing more than to be outside, where she could just walk and walk, and not end up on the same deck or in the same room she’d spent the last few days in.

  ‘Shouldn’t be long now; look, the tugs are coming.’

  She followed his finger to the tiny boats coming towards them in a V shape, six of them in all. They fanned out at the bow of the ship before vanishing from view.

  ‘What are they for?’ she asked. Surely the passengers weren’t expected to disembark onto those fragile-looking vessels?

  ‘They pull the ship in, guide it to the dock.’ He looked down at her and let out a laugh, long and loud. ‘Didn’t you know that?’

  She shook her head, allowing him to lead her across the restaurant towards the elevator. He was still chuckling at her naivety when they reached it. She took a deep breath. Things really were back to normal between them.

  * * *

  Apparently she wasn’t the only one eager to disembark. In the lobby near the boarding doors, people stood in clusters. There was a hum of excited chatter and the rustle of maps, while phones lit up with routes and tour websites.

  ‘Where are we going to go?’ Paula raised her voice to be heard above the dozens of other conversations.

  Tommy showed her his own phone: a photo of a lake with people in it, steam rising off the water.

  ‘It’s a thermal lake, naturally heated seawater.’

  ‘I haven’t got my swimming costume,’ she said.

  He huffed out a sigh. ‘You knew I wanted to go and see the lakes,’ he said. ‘Hurry up and get it.’

  ‘Sorry,’ she said as she reached for the lanyard around her neck that held her key card. ‘I’ll be really quick.’

  She ducked out of the crowd of people into the corridor just as the lift doors opened and another trickle of passengers came out. She drew in a sharp breath when Anna emerged.

  But Anna hadn’t seen her, and Paula turned her head away. To her left was a restroom, and on a whim, she pushed open the door and slipped inside, unwilling – unable – to walk past the woman and have to make eye contact with her. It had a porthole window, and she put her face up to it. The elevator crowd swept past, Anna among them. The hallway was narrow, and their bodies pressed against the toilet door as they crammed their way through to the large waiting area.

  She might have missed it, but in the silence of the restroom there came a very definitive click. She gasped in fury, knowing instantly what had happened and who had done it. The times before, in the sauna, in her suite, she had been frightened. Anger was a welcome change.

  She gripped the handle and pushed, knowing the door wouldn’t budge, swearing anyway when she was proved right. She stood on tiptoes again, peering out of the porthole. Anna’s blonde head bobbed through the throng of people, marking a trajectory towards… Tommy?

  ‘Oh no, you don’t,’ hissed Paula. ‘Not this time.’

  She kicked the door, beat her hands against the glass. Toughened glass, she realised, and the noise of excited chatter in the waiting area drowned out her cries and the sound of her fists. All eyes were fixed on the doors that led out to Iceland. Nobody was even looking in her direction.

  She knew what would happen: Anna would tag on to Tommy’s group, they would leave without her, and she would miss out, stuck, imprisoned again. How had it even happened? One minute Anna had been exiting the elevator and Paula had ducked into the loo, certain that the other woman hadn’t even seen her. But she clearly had. Anna had it in for her, was ready at every single opportunity. But why?

  Tommy’s fan club.

  Paula stopped hammering on the door for a moment and narrowed her eyes. It had happened before. If she were honest, it happened all the time. Silly, pretty things, pound signs in their eyes as they looked at the self-made success in front of them. But usually a reminder that he was a married man was enough. A possessive hand on his arm, a glance that she had perfected did the trick.

  But not in this case.

  She returned her attention to the porthole. Down the hall, the elevator door was opening again, a fresh wave of day-trippers emerging. She waited until they drew level with the toilet door, then she curled her hands into fists and banged as hard as she could.

  A middle-aged woman in the crowd jerked her head towards the door. Paula’s heart leapt.

  ‘I’m stuck!’ she shouted, pointing to the handle. ‘I’m locked in!’

  The woman glanced over her shoulder, as if to check whether Paula was talking to someone else.

  Paula slapped her hand on the glass. ‘Help!’ she mouthed.

  Realisation dawned in the woman’s eyes and she held
up a hand in a ‘wait’ gesture. Paula pressed her face to the porthole, tracking her movements as she pushed her way to the front of the elevator group.

  ‘Yes,’ she whispered, as the woman located a staff member, talking to him and pointing back in the direction of the restroom.

  The man followed her over, and selected a key from a bunch on his belt. He inserted it in a lock that was too low for Paula to see, and immediately the door sprang open.

  Paula fell out into the hallway, profusely thanking both the stranger and the staff member. Then she darted off through the crowd, looking back only once. The woman had moved on; the man was holding the toilet door open now, peering at the lock, testing the handle.

  She reached Tommy and opened her mouth to tell him her latest horror story.

  ‘Did you get your swimming costume?’ he asked.

  Her swimming costume. That was where she’d been headed. She glanced around, trying to remain inconspicuous. There she was: Anna, moving towards the doors.

  Fear shot through Paula at the sight of her, all the anger of moments ago gone. Terror, real and raw, at the thought of what this tiny woman was capable of. She blinked, and in her mind’s eye she saw the body of the man Anna had been paid to care for, and the bruises on his face.

  ‘You know what, I’m fine staying on dry land,’ she said.

  Tommy glanced at her. ‘Well, I’m going in the water,’ he replied.

  ‘I’ll watch.’

  And watch she did, as Anna tracked a path across the lobby. She never had to say excuse me, Paula noticed, the crowds seeming to part for her.

  As if sensing she was being scrutinised, Anna glanced over. Their eyes met, and Paula’s heart thumped in her chest. Unconsciously, she edged closer to Tommy as the other woman’s eyes burned into her own.

  Anna smirked, hoisted her backpack off, and set it to rest on the floor.

  Paula looked away.

  ‘Mate, good to see you. Hi, Paula.’ Angus, Tommy’s pal, bounced up to them, Dermot hot on his heels.

  Hands were shaken all round, and Paula tried to focus on the men’s conversation.

  ‘Did you see the lights last night?’ Dermot asked.

  Paula turned her attention to him. ‘No, sadly I missed…’ Her words trickled to a stop as she realised Dermot wasn’t speaking to her, but to Tommy.

  She blinked. Hadn’t Tommy said he had watched the Northern Lights with Dermot and Angus?

  ‘Yeah, I managed to catch them,’ Tommy said weakly, his eyes sliding sideways, away from his wife.

  A few feet away, Anna smiled serenely, showing small white teeth. Paula put her hand over her mouth at the same time as Tommy darted a look at her, a warning glance. His hand reached out, his eyes narrowed, a signal not to cause a scene, to let it go. At that moment, the doors swished open and the crowd surged. She jostled her arm free from his grip and let herself be taken, shoved and pushed towards the door. Tommy’s face was flushed, his eyebrows knitted; his temper – no doubt at being caught out – was rising. Behind him, Anna had disappeared from Paula’s view.

  Paula turned around and let the mob sweep her out of the doors and down the walkway onto Icelandic soil.

  Alone.

  * * *

  There was an expression in Paula’s eyes that Anna hadn’t known the other woman could pull off. If looks could kill…

  She was tempted to laugh in Paula’s face, to push her over the edge, but she held back. She couldn’t be seen to be needling the woman, not if she wanted to get her hands on the final prize. Instead, she ducked down out of sight, pretending to fiddle with the zip on her backpack. When she stood up, she saw the back of Paula’s head, a black hat in among all the others making their way off the cruise ship. Keeping enough people in between them, Anna put her own head down and blended into the middle of the crowd.

  Tommy emerged minutes later, stationed in between Dermot and Angus. They were too far away for her to hear what he was saying, but she could give it a good guess. He gestured angrily with his hands, while his pals nodded sympathetically. He wasn’t going after his wife, she noticed. Instead, the three men swung left and headed for the coaches that lined the dockside.

  Without even glancing over his shoulder, Tommy climbed up into the first coach. Anna looked at the sign on the front: Blue Lagoon Spa. It was certainly the most popular option, she realised, as the majority of passengers followed suit.

  Paula was still walking, moving with the serious hikers now, and Anna cocked her head in interest. She wasn’t going to get on a coach then. Hanging back, Anna watched.

  There were perhaps a dozen people near Paula. All were dressed in appropriate outerwear and sturdy hiking boots, most with crampons attached. Some even sported goggles and the majority of them had walking poles. They were grouped around a particular man, the trek leader, clearly, who waved his pole in the air, issuing instructions. Anna watched the spike at the end of the hiking stick; imagined felling Paula with a single blow and driving it through her neck.

  The group began to move, the man in front and Paula – woefully unprepared Paula – bringing up the rear.

  They were pros, Anna thought, smiling to herself. It wouldn’t be long before Paula fell behind.

  She shivered with anticipation.

  Chapter 22

  Before

  ‘Are you cold?’ my mother asked.

  It was unlike her to enquire after my well-being. Ignoring her question, I wrapped my arms around myself in an attempt to stop the shivering. No, I wasn’t cold. My tremors were of excitement, of anticipation.

  Tomorrow I was going to Edinburgh.

  The last couple of years had been far from easy. I had moved through my final school terms like I was swimming underwater. My body ached constantly with the effort, never having a chance to recover with sleep, because who had time to slumber, what with monitoring my mother’s activities, keeping clear of Carl and his unwelcome advances, making the house as respectable as it could be with two addicts living in it and staying up to date with homework, coursework and exams…

  It was all for the end game, the final prize. Edinburgh would lead to a career, and, later, a home that was always clean and neat as a pin, and maybe even a husband who was strong and handsome and able to provide for his family. The opposite of Carl, in other words. Sometimes I thought of Rebecca Lavery and the prize I had stolen from her. Each time I remembered what I had done, I was quick to reassure myself. She didn’t need it. I had seen her – the way she was dressed, the expensive aura she exuded. She didn’t need it. It was my new mantra, to be repeated silently to myself until the guilt passed.

  My case was packed. A single suitcase, reflecting eighteen years of living. Eighteen years of no friends, no family apart from my mother. No fun times or birthday parties or celebrations. No love, no tenderness.

  I zipped up the case and glanced at my mother. She stood in the doorway to my bedroom, her thin frame supported by the wall she leaned against.

  ‘Mum, do you want to come to Edinburgh with me?’

  I tried to swallow back the words even as they were coming out of my mouth. I wondered why I had asked her that.

  The answer was clear to me suddenly. If she stayed here with Carl, she would die.

  ‘Nah,’ she said. ‘Carl likes it round here.’

  I wasn’t asking him, I thought. And there was a sense of hurt that shimmered inside me. Which was ridiculous in itself; she’d ceased to be able to hurt me many, many years ago.

  I imagined it for a moment, taking her on the long train journey up north. It was seven hours, and she couldn’t go half that time without taking a hit for her habit. And once we were there, what would happen then? Would she be out and about on the streets late at night, looking to score, seeking a replacement for Carl? I envisaged bumping into her late at night, leaving the bars and clubs that I would frequent in my new life as a normal eighteen-year-old. My friends would look on in horror, and I would be back at school all over again, shunned for b
eing the person I really was.

  No.

  That wasn’t the person I was. It was where I came from, and there was a big difference. I was shedding my old self and everything associated with it. That included my mother.

  Downstairs, the front door slammed. I pulled my case off my bed and slid it underneath. Carl had said nothing about my leaving, and I didn’t want to remind him that tonight would be my last night in this house. His heavy tread could be heard as he came up the stairs. I glanced at my mother, still leaning against the wall, swaying slightly, her eyes somewhere else entirely.

  ‘My girls,’ he said as he came into view.

  With one hand he was unbuckling his belt, and now he tugged it free of the loops of his jeans. I sat with my hands primly in my lap, refusing to be intimidated by him, wondering what his actions were leading to.

  He stopped in front of my mother, pulled a little foil package from his pocket.

  Where she had been far away moments ago, she was suddenly eager, taking the belt from him and winding it around her scarred upper arm. He held the foil in his teeth as he plunged his hand into the front of her dressing gown. Roughly, he massaged her breasts and pushed himself against her. She paid no heed to his wandering hand, didn’t seem to notice the knee that jerked and thrust against her crotch.

  Eyes gleaming, moving as though they were one person, they stumbled out of my room.

  * * *

  I left in the middle of the night, even though my train wasn’t due until seven a.m. I was frightened that when it came to morning and I tried to walk out of the door and into my future, I would be stopped. Carl might be an addict, but he was strong, and he would use that strength against me.

  At one a.m., I held my little case close to me and slid out of the door. Pulling it gently closed behind me, I looked up at the house I’d lived in all my life.

  Would this be the last time I was here?

  I thought back to the little girl I once was, the girl who’d worked out at a young age that cutting herself was a sure-fire path to love and cuddles. That same girl who slept under a pink flowery duvet, oblivious to the man who pulled up her nightgown and photographed her body while she slept. I thought of the mother of that girl, who had never protected her from things she had seen too young, too early.