The Tightrope

by Hiba Basit

  ‘Look around you! Your life is a fucking mess! Treating any amount of children won’t cure the dismal state of your life. It’s not very nice to give your own child away without turning back to see if she’s alright.’

  Her heart free-falls as his words hit home.

  ‘I didn’t care about forming a connection with her. I just wanted to get Sofia out of there and away from you. OK, Antonio, I never loved Alex like I loved Sofia, because it was too damn hard letting go of one of my daughters!’

  She rips his fingers from her neck, expecting him to latch back on. When he doesn’t, she follows his gaze behind her, back up the beach. She doesn’t see anything at first, just an endless tunnel of darkness. Then, she glimpses Alex, still in her white nightie. She rushes towards her and then abruptly stops. Andrei is standing behind Alex, holding a gun to her head.

  ‘Did you hear that, Alex? Mummy doesn’t love you!’ he says.

  Annette searches for Antonio but, somehow, he’s managed to pass her, standing on the other side.

  ‘What is this?’ she shouts, looking from Antonio to Andrei.

  ‘Darling, this is a shocker of a story! Grab some popcorn,’ Antonio says, laughing ecstatically. ‘Andrei gets thrown in jail thanks to your inconspicuous funding and guess who his cellmate is, transferred from wherever the hell I was locked up before. I asked Andrei what happened and, damn it, I’ve never felt anything so phenomenal in all my life, since the woman in his love story is my adulterous, bitch-of-a-wife. My wife who went missing the same night she and her husband allegedly died, and who left behind a child at the orphanage, our daughter, who she took away from me.’

  ‘Coincidence, or what,’ Andrei says, slipping the gun to Antonio.

  ‘Did you know all along?’ she asks, addressing Andrei. ‘You were playing me in our sessions?’ she demands, anger rising in her throat.

  ‘It was the necklace you were wearing,’ Andrei says. ‘You had it on that night, too!’ Annette touches the locket she’s been holding all along, realising the fatal error she’s made.

  ‘Oh, my darling, this is your Fate. You’re damned if you do and damned if you don’t,’ Antonio says.

  And, suddenly, it all makes sense. She’d always known something wasn’t right in her life. That she felt more doomed than the rest of the world.

  This is her Fate.

  You don’t have to believe it for it to be true. Most people only get a felt sense for it, like instinct.

  Alex had been reading her mother’s Fate instead of her own all along.

  Belief in the effect is a burden on a person, and can only be reprieved through death of the person, or if they have mistakenly read someone else’s destiny, through death of that someone else, who is likely to be one of their loved ones.

  Then, another thought strikes her.

  All he wants is one in exchange for the other.

  Sharply, it becomes clear.

  ‘Take me!’ she shouts. ‘You said you wouldn’t leave with nothing this time, Toni. So, take me! Isn’t this where it all started, with you and me?’

  The ease with which Antonio moves the gun away from Alex and points it at Annette confirms what she suspected. No matter how hard she’d tried to build a new life on her own, this was always how it was going to end.

  ‘Three attempts,’ Antonio says. She shakes her head, not understanding. ‘Call Alex. If she comes to you, I’ll take your offer. If she doesn’t, you’re never going to see her again.’

  ***

  Choice.

  She said we all have it.

  Do we have free will to make all of our choices or are we walking down a path that’s already been laid out for us?

  Fate or Choice?

  Does it matter?

  If it was in Fate’s hands, I live, and Mummy dies.

  If Choice won, we both live.

  It does matter.

  It matters a lot.

  Because I’ve made a Choice.

  It’s not an easy Choice, but it’s the first one in my life, and it feels good.

  Against all odds, it feels like hope.

  ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

  While writing this book, I reflected on the truth that reading helps my soul. Magic, for me, is opening up a page in a book and getting lost in another world. Thank you to the wonderful writers out there who stirred a creative curiosity in me and inspired me to write The Tightrope.

  I’d like to thank everyone who has supported me along the way, especially a few special people. Mehreen, you have believed in me when I first put pen to paper and, for that, I am so grateful. Thank you Imi for being my number one fan – full of positivity and wise, healing words. Thank you Alex for letting me use your beautiful name. Thank you Jade for exploring Romania with me. Hiba Tul-Habib, Imi, Georgie and Josefa - thank you for the final read. Thank you to my family, for always calling me a ‘chatterbox’ and helping me to realise I could put that chatter into my writing. Thank you to everyone else – I know I’m lucky to have you all in my life every single day.

  Thank you to all of my patients who, time after time, have shown me what courage really looks like.

  And finally, thank you to my readers, for listening to my characters’ stories and making their lives a part of yours.

  A NOTE ON THE AUTHOR

  Hiba Basit lives in London and works as a cognitive-behavioural therapist in the NHS in West London. When she isn’t writing or working, you’ll find her catching up with family and friends, singing with her choir and trying her best to make choices every day. This is her debut novel.