Laura

by Amy Cross

  “What do you want?” Elliot says as he picks up. “Laura -”

  “Can we meet?” I ask, trying not to sound too desperate. “Don't hang up! I need to see you. Maybe at the Coach and Horses, somewhere a little out of town? It's important.”

  “I don't think that's a good idea.”

  “It's really important,” I continue. “Please, even if you hate my guts, just give me one more chance. I have something to tell you, something I should have told you before. I'll never bother you again, not any of you, but this is vital. It's about Sophie and how she feels about you.”

  I wait for him to reply, but I can tell he's hooked.

  “I'll be there in half an hour,” he says finally, “but you'd better not be wasting my time. It's pissing it down.”

  Once the call is over, I sit in silence for a moment, looking out at the rain and hoping it'll ease before I have to make a dash for the pub. After a moment, however, I take the USB drive from my pocket and allow myself a faint smile as I consider how Elliot is going to react to these photos. I mean, it's obvious the worst ones are fake, but they're still good fakes. These people fill their lives with lies. Now I'm going to make sure the truth sets them free. If our little gang of six is breaking down, I'm going to make damn sure that they don't form a tight little gang of five to take its place.

  I don't want to lose my friends.

  And then I feel something sharp scratching my skin, just below the collarbone. Looking down, I see a glint of metal, and I take hold of the rusty old metal coin that hangs from a thin silver chain around my neck.

  ***

  “Everybody hates me now,” I explain a short while later, as I sit soaked and shivering at a table in the corner of the pub. “I get that, but it's okay. I never set out to be popular.”

  “Things might calm down after a while,” Elliot replies, once again playing the diplomat. “Everyone's angry about what you did to Lynn, but in a month or two, or a year, maybe -”

  “Things won't calm down,” I tell him, “and people won't change their opinions. It's nice of you to say that, but I know when things are over.”

  I pause, before reaching into my pocket and taking out the USB drive. Elliot immediately notices, and I can see a hint of concern in his eyes.

  “What's that?” he asks cautiously.

  “What do you think it is?”

  “Don't play games, Laura.” He pauses, before reaching out and taking the drive from my hand. “Obviously you think I should care about this. What is it?”

  “The truth. Or at least, a copy of it. I have the original somewhere else.”

  He sighs.

  “Why are people so angry about the truth all the time?” I continue, still shivering as my wet clothes cling to my body. Elliot hasn't even offered to take me somewhere so I can dry off. I thought he was more of a gentleman. “Do they prefer lies?”

  “Of course they do,” he replies. “You can't live life without a few lies here and there. Whatever's on this drive -”

  “It's about Sophie.”

  He hesitates. “What do you mean?”

  “You'll learn a lot about her when you take a look,” I tell him. “I know you think she's perfect, Elliot, but you need to see what she's really like. Maybe you'll still have feelings for her once you've seen the files, but at least you'll be making your decisions based on the truth. People shouldn't be allowed to hide things from each other.”

  “You're crazy,” he mutters, although he clearly can't take his eyes off the drive.

  “I like you,” I continue. “You're the only one of those assholes who seems like a decent person.”

  “You poisoned Lynn!”

  “Everyone keeps saying that, but -”

  “They keep saying it because it's true!”

  Sighing, I sit back, trying to think of some way to make him understand.

  “Where are you sleeping tonight?” he asks.

  “Do you care?”

  “Did you find somewhere?”

  I pause for a moment. “No,” I tell him finally. “Not yet.”

  “You're going to get sick,” he continues. “Isn't there someone you can stay with?”

  “I got kicked out of the house.”

  “I know, but -”

  “I can't go back there.”

  “That would be a very bad idea right now, Laura.”

  “So you won't talk to them for me?”

  He hesitates. “Talk to who?”

  “The others. Sophie, Nick, Lynn... I don't want to beg to be allowed back into my room, but if you spoke to them, they might see sense.”

  “That'd be very difficult,” he replies cautiously. “Feelings are still running very high, Laura.”

  “So I'm not welcome?”

  “Find somewhere else for a while. You're popular, I'm sure you have other friends.”

  Staring at him, I realize that he's not going to budge. I'm sure he'd let me back into the house if it was just his decision, but he's so far under Sophie's thumb, it's not even real.

  “Maybe you'll change your mind when you look at those files,” I tell him. “If Sophie moves out, then maybe -”

  “That's not going to happen.”

  “The files are -”

  “It's not going to happen, Laura!” he says firmly, raising his voice a little. “You're not welcome at the house! You need to get that into your head!”

  I open my mouth to argue with him, but at the last moment I hold back. I've always though that Elliot was easily to manipulate, but I guess I should have known he'd always pick Sophie's side in a dispute. When it comes to her, his thought processes are completely screwed up.

  “I can take care of myself,” I reply, getting to my feet. “I don't have any family, you know that, so I learned a long time ago how to survive.”

  “I can find some dry clothes for you.”

  “I don't need your help!” I say firmly, taking a step back. “Just look at the files on that drive, okay? Promise me you'll see Sophie for what she really is. A lying, calculating, slutty whore who -”

  “I'm out of here,” he replies, getting to his feet. He looks at the USB drive in his hand for a moment, before setting it on the table. “And you can keep this. Whatever's on it, I don't need to know.”

  “Are you scared of the truth?”

  “I shouldn't have agreed to meet you, Laura,” he continues. “Please don't call me again. I hope everything goes well for you, I wish you nothing but the best, but I don't want to hear from you. Is that clear?”

  “I never thought you were such a coward!” I call after him, shocked as he turns and walks out of the pub. “Elliot! I thought you were the one who actually gave a damn!”

  I wait, hoping against hope that he'll realize his mistake and come back, but instead he simply heads out the front door. Still soaked and shivering, I look down at the USB drive on the table and realize that I'm going to have to do something more dramatic, something that shakes these bastards out of their collective stupor. Slipping the drive into my pocket, I glance across the room and see an elderly couple sitting by the window, watching me with a hint of concern.

  “What are you fucking looking at?” I ask, before turning and hurrying to the door. “Goddamn stupid -”

  And that's when I see him.

  Over by the far window, a man is nursing a pint of beer. He's old, maybe in his early sixties, and he has a kind of crumpled posture, as if life has worn him down. I take a step closer, while getting ready to run in case he recognizes me, but he seems preoccupied by the beer. I know I should just get out of here, but I can't help watching his weathered, lined face and trying to work out whether he's really who I think he is.

  He can't be.

  Coincidences are one thing, but this would be insane. Especially after I searched all these years for him and never had any luck.

  And then suddenly he looks this way, and our eyes meet.

  I flinch, but he doesn't say anything. He just offers a faint, polite
smile, and then he looks back down at his drink.

  I hesitate, before slipping the necklace off and stepping closer.

  “Excuse me,” I say cautiously, “but... Did you used to use a metal detector on the beach near here?”

  He turns to me again, and this time there's a hint of fear in his eyes.

  “I don't know what you're talking about,” he says, his voice sounding dry and gravely. “Please, just leave me alone.”

  I pause, before setting the old coin on the table in front of him. As soon as I do so, I see a flash of recognition cross his face. My heart is pounding, but this is the moment I've dreamed of all my life, and I know I have to at least try to make him understand.

  “My grandmother made me say those things,” I stammer, trying not to panic. “She's dead now, she died a few years ago, but she made me go to the police. I didn't want to, I knew it was wrong, but I was too young and I couldn't stand up to her.” There are tears in my eyes now, and my legs are starting to tremble. “Please, I know you probably hate me, and I deserve that, but I was so young and I've spent every second hating myself since that day. I tried to look you up, so I could apologize, but I never had any luck until...”

  My voice trails off. Even though I've imagined this moment for years, and I've run through what I'd say, suddenly words don't seem nearly enough.

  “I'm so sorry,” I continue. “I hope your life... I hope your life wasn't ruined by those accusations. I hope you're okay. My grandmother told me what to say to the police, she trained me to tell a whole story about you, and she made me think it was the right thing to do. I was so young, and she was messed up in so many ways, but I didn't understand that until it was too late, and by then I was too scared to come forward and...”

  My voice trails off, and now I'm a little breathless.

  I wait for the man to reply, but he doesn't say a word. A moment later, however, I realize someone is coming over, and I turn just as a woman comes to join the man at the table. She smiles at me as she takes a seat.

  “I'm sorry,” the man says, squinting a little as he looks at me, “but... I think you might have me confused with someone else.”

  “The metal detector,” I stammer, before sliding the old coin closer to him. “You gave me this years ago, on the beach.”

  “Metal detector?” He frowns, and somehow his face seems different now and I'm no longer so sure that it's him. “I've never used a metal detector in my life,” he continues, before turning to the woman. “Can you imagine me with one of those things? Then again, I suppose it does sound interesting.”

  “I'm sorry,” I tell him, stepping back, “I thought you were someone else.”

  Now it's perfectly clear that he's not the man, so I turn and hurry to the door. After a moment I realize that I left the coin on the table, but I'm too embarrassed to go back. It's as if I was so desperate to finally track the metal-detecting man down and apologize, I actually managed to hallucinate. Stopping for a moment in the pub's doorway, I try to get my thoughts together, but a wave of panic seems to be rushing through my body and all I can think about is the fact that I have to get as far away as possible. Away from this pub, away from this town, away from all my so-called friends. I just want to run away into the darkness and never come back.

  Outside, the rain is worse than ever.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Twenty years ago

  “Okay,” the lady police officer says with a friendly smile, “now I want to ask you about those bruises. It's okay, Laura, you're not in trouble, but did the man on the beach give you the bruises when he tried to stop you running away?”

  I stare at her for a moment, before looking down at the bruises on my arms. Then I turn and look over at Nana, and I see her watching me intently.

  “It's okay,” the police officer continues. “Just tell me everything that happened, Laura. Did the man give you these bruises?”

  “Yes,” I say finally, even though I feel sick in my belly as I turn back to the police officer. I suppose I have to say exactly what Nana told me to say. When she gave me the bruises, she told me they were really from the man on the beach. “He grabbed my arm really hard,” I continue. “He hurt me.”

  “And that's when he tried to hold you down?”

  I hesitate for a moment. I always thought that lying was wrong, but Nana explained earlier that sometimes you have to lie in order to make the truth better. Finally, I nod.

  “That's okay, Laura,” the lady police officer says with a smile. “You're a very brave girl. You're doing really, really well.”

  Hearing a knock at the door, she turns just as another police officer leans into the room and gestures for her to head out.

  “Wait right here,” the lady officer says, patting my shoulder before leaving the room.

  “Am I doing it right?” I ask, turning to Nana.

  “You're doing fine,” she replies, leaning over and placing a hand on my knee. “I hope you're learning your lesson, too. You can't trust anyone, Laura. Not in this horrible world.”

  “Can't I even trust my friends?”

  “You don't have any friends,” she continues, smiling as she squeezes my knee. “Friends only let you down. It's a dog-eat-dog world and you're better off on your own. Promise me, girl. Promise me you'll never forget that.”

  “Okay,” I reply cautiously, as I feel tears in my eyes. “I promise. I'm better off on my own, without any friends.”

  Chapter Thirty

  Ten years ago

  “Damn it!”

  Slipping on the wet ground, I fall and land in a vast puddle of mud. Up ahead, I see nothing but darkness spread before me, but I can hear rain falling all around.

  And the sea.

  I'm somewhere near the beach. I can hear huge waves crashing against the shore, and far off in the darkness there's a light. I guess a boat is passing past the coast.

  Getting to my feet, I try to brush mud off my clothes, but most of it has already begun to soak through.

  I'm shivering.

  I know it's probably crazy to be out here at the edge of town, but I figure this is my best chance to find somewhere safe and dry where I won't be disturbed. There's an old golf course somewhere nearby, with abandoned buildings that I should be able to break into pretty easily, and then I can start to regroup and figure out what I need to do next. Right now, the most important thing is to find some shelter and try to dry my clothes, because I'm freezing and I think there's a chance I might actually get sick.

  Reaching into my pocket, I pull out my phone and see that I don't have much battery left. I was hoping to use the screen to light my way, but I guess I should conserve what little power I have left so I switch it off and put it away. I'll just -

  Suddenly the ground seems to give way beneath me. I turn try to grab hold of something, but it's as if the darkness has suddenly opened up to swallow me whole. I fall and let out a brief cry, and I drop for several seconds until finally my right ankles slams into something hard, sending me crunching down further until I hit a large rock. Even before I roll to a halt, I can feel that my ankle is broken.

  The beach.

  Somehow I'm down on the beach.

  Figuring I must have become disorientated in the darkness, I try to get up, only to feel another sharp pain in my ankle. A moment later, a rush of water hits me, although it quickly recedes. I try again to get up, and then I try again, but something seems to be wrong with both my legs. My heart is pounding and I think pure adrenaline is keeping me from feeling the worst of the pain, but when I reach down I find that my jeans are torn around the knees.

  And the pain is getting worse now.

  I try to move, but I can't. In the pitch darkness, I can't work out what's wrong.

  Suddenly another rush of water washes over me, and I let out an agonized cry as I feel salt stinging my wounds. Once the water has receded, I try to sit up, but I think I might be more seriously hurt than I realized. Reaching down, I feel my left leg, slowly fumbling
past the knee. Finally, I reach into my pocket with a shaking hand and pull out my phone, taking a moment to switch it back on. The low battery indicator flashes, but I activate the flashlight app and shine it down toward my legs, and then I see something dark poking through my right ankle, glistening in the light.

  It takes a moment before I realize that when I landed, my ankle was somehow impaled on what looks like a jagged chunk of metal.

  “Fuck,” I whisper, as the incoming tide once again washes over my legs and waist. Trying to ignore the stinging sensation, I reach down and touch the side of my ankle, and I can tell that I've already lost a lot of blood. My hands are trembling more than before, but even though my leg hurts, the pain really doesn't seem so extreme. I guess shock might have kicked in, and as I reach down and grab hold of my foot, I figure I need to quickly pull myself free.

  Rain is crashing down all around me.

  I can do this.

  One.

  Two.

  Three.

  Suddenly I feel the metal shard scraping against my fractured bones, and I let out a cry of pain. Leaning back, I wait for the agony to pass, but I know now that there's no way I can do this myself.

  My phone is flashing now with the low battery warning, and my hands are trembling as I try to dial 999 for help. Dropping the phone, I panic but manage to rescue it before it's destroyed by the incoming tide. Still, somehow my fingers feel a little numb, and my vision is getting blurry.

  “Come on,” I stammer, barely able to see the damn thing as I try to type the number. There's so much rain coming down now, I have to keep wiping drops away from the screen. After a moment, I realize I've accidentally brought up the list of recent calls, and suddenly I hear that I've started to ring someone.

  I squint, trying to see properly, and I see Elliot's name just as there's the sound of someone picking up on the other end of the line.

  “What do you want, Laura?” he asks, sounding annoyed. “We're all -”