by Wade, Calvin
“Yes, sorry! I was miles away,” I explained, “my mind was taking me back to that night with Mum and Jemma. Yes, I felt guilty, but I was just a seventeen year old girl, totally out of her depth. I was scared of facing the police, my Nan even warned me not to come back after Jemma’s arrest, as I had already fled to Holland by then. I started to panic, started thinking illogically, I even had it in my head that I may end up jointly charged with Jemma. I did not think, at the time, that my return would have made things easier for Jemma, all I knew was that they would make things a lot harder for me. With hindsight, I should have been braver. There’s no doubting I let Jemma down badly. I should have gone back, but I didn’t and that’s something I’m going to have to live with now.”
Anna polished off the rest of her Sambuca. Mine was already empty.
“To be honest, I think you did let her down. At least, you did it inadvertently. You didn’t think you could help Jemma, you just went into self-preservation mode. It’s understandable, as you said you were only seventeen.”
“Do you know what jail she’s in?” I asked. Anna gave me a puzzled look.
“What do you mean? She’s not in jail now! She’s been out for at least two or three years! I saw her in Woolworths once, not long after she was released, then I’m sure I saw her in a coffee shop in Ormskirk too. Waiting on.”
“Do you know whether she still lives in Ormskirk now then?”
“I’m not sure. I’ve been living in Didsbury for the last eighteen months so I was only nipping back from time to time to see my Mum and Dad. I didn’t know her anyway, so it’s not like I would really look out for her. I just spotted her a couple of times after her release because she had become a bit of a celebrity figure.”
“Celebrity?”
“No, I suppose that’s not the right word,” Anna corrected herself, “I suppose I mean she had become well known. Notorious.”
“Do people hate her then?”
The guilt I had managed to stave off for five years was now growing by the second.
“Hate would be a bit strong, but the general impression was that she should have served longer. I remember the Ormskirk Advertisers front page headline after her release was, “Killer Back On Our Streets”. I could understand the mild hysteria, the general consensus was that she was guilty.”
“Did you think Jemma was guilty, Anna?”
“Until today I did. She was found guilty. It was natural to think she was guilty, but I did have a nagging doubt, that’s why I wanted to hear the truth from you. Can I get you another drink, Kelly?”
“I’ll have another Sambuca please.”
Anna headed back to the bar. As she queued, I had some more time to reflect. What had I been doing? What had been the point of spending my life running around the world? I had been running away, but by the looks of things, no-one had been chasing. I had been oblivious to what Jemma had had to deal with. As children we had been so close. She must hate me now, I thought, she must really hate me now.
When Anna returned, putting the two Sambucas down on the table, my desire to be back in Ormskirk continued to grip me. I needed more information now. I was almost desperate for it. Romantically, I had had several boyfriends, since I ran away, but had any of them matched up with what I had at home? No. Not by a long way. Not only had I left a loving sister behind, a sister who had been jailed for me, I had also left a boyfriend. A boyfriend who had adored me. I felt overcome by my emotions. I had screwed everything up, big time. Richie was “the one”, I was sure of that now and I abandoned him. I needed to know what had happened to him in my absence. I felt nervous, scared almost, to ask Anna for the answer, but I knew I needed to.
“Anna, you know how you said you didn’t know Jemma, so you didn’t really know what she was up to. Well, what about Richie? You went to school with Richie, you still used to run into him after that, I know that myself as we both saw you on Clieves Hill. What’s Richie up to these days?”
I tried to ask in a manner which indicated that I was interested rather than intrigued, but those nerves I felt kicking in, had really taken hold, so I had become a little jittery. I was scared how Anna might answer this. I suddenly felt overwhelmed by a feeling that my destiny decreed that Richie and I would return to each other’s arms, like a couple from a fairytale. I knew Anna could destroy this vision by telling me that Richie was already with somebody else.
Anna laughed to herself a little.
“Sorry, Kelly! I don’t really know what Richie is up to either. I’ve not seen him since I ran into both of you together on Clieves Hill. I just laughed because, without him knowing, Richie brought me here!”
That struck me as such a bizarre thing for Anna to say. I needed to understand what she meant,
“In what way?”
“Around the time Jemma was arrested, maybe just after, my Dad had an operation. It was nothing major, just a routine hernia operation. He was in Ormskirk Hospital, just for a few days, then he came out and after a few weeks he was fine, driving me around everywhere like he had been doing before! Whilst Dad was in Ormskirk Hospital though, my Mum had been to visit him and she had seen Richie, in his dressing gown, in another Ward. Mum asked me if I knew why Richie was in hospital and I didn’t have a clue, so she rang Dot, his Mum. They knew each other from ‘Maghull Operatic’. Poor Dot burst into tears as soon as Mum rang, spilled her heart out. That’s when we found out about Richie’s cancer.”
Richie’s cancer? My first thought was that I must have heard her wrong. My second was that Anna was obviously somehow getting things confused.
“His cancer? What cancer?”
“You know, his testicular cancer.”
“Anna, Richie never had testicular cancer around the time Jemma was arrested. I only left England just as Jemma was arrested. Richie was fine.”
As I said this, every memory of Richie suddenly started flashing through my brain. I remembered how everything had been really intense and then, for no apparent reason, he had backed off. Then there was that time when Jemma was with him at Coronation Park, when I saw them together. Could this be the missing link to everything that had confused me so much at the time? Surely not. We told each other everything. If Richie had been suffering from testicular cancer back then, I am sure he would have told me.
“Kelly, he did!” Anna continued, “I told you, Richie brought me here. After Mum found out, she used to ring Dot every week, to see how Richie was doing. He was in hospital when Dad was in, because he had to have a testicle removed. Richie came through it all though. The cancer did not spread and he was OK, but it was a massive awakening for me. What do they call it? An epiphany. For someone my age, someone I had been to school with, to have a life threatening illness, really brought home to me how fragile our existence is. None of us will be here in a hundred years and fate decrees how much time we have. I realised I was wasting mine, so when I found out about Richie’s cancer, that’s when I started saving for this trip. It took me four years, but eventually I went to Spa Travel and booked myself on a “Round The World” trip with just a backpack and a passport to keep me company. Richie’s illness inspired me to travel. I would not be here now if it was not for him.”
I tried to speak but I was temporarily mute. A tear gathered in my eye and then rolled down my face like a tyre on a hill. Within seconds, my voice returned.
“Anna, it’s been lovely speaking to you, thank you for everything it has meant a lot to me. Please believe me, Jemma was innocent and I let her down. I need to go now.”
Both Anna and I stood up. I gave her a hug.
“I know it’s upsetting for you to hear about Richie’s cancer,” Anna said, “I totally understand. Did you really not know?”
“Enjoy the rest of your trip,” I said without answering.
Did I really not know? Did I have an inkling? I quizzed myself, tried to search my subconscious mind, but no matter how much I searched, the answer was always going to be ‘No’. If I had known about Richie’s c
ancer, I would never have left him. Never.
Anna was tactful enough not push for an answer.
“You enjoy the rest of your trip too,” she replied, “hopefully we will run into each other around Ormskirk at some point in the future!”
“That would be nice!” I answered genuinely.
I was in a hurry to go. I needed to get back to our hostel to see Brad. I had to finish things with him. Finish things straight away. I wasn’t supposed to be with Brad, I was sure of that now.
Somehow I felt I had been destined to run into Anna. Destined for her to tell me about Jemma and about Richie. I felt the urge to finish things with Brad, as I felt I should not be with him, should not be with anyone, except Richie.
I knew now that I had to get back in touch with Richie. I needed to see him. I knew now that it was my destiny to meet back up with him. Meet back up and I knew exactly where and when we would meet. If Anna’s destiny from Richie’s illness was to travel, mine was to return. To return to Richie and to meet up, just as we had agreed we would. We were going to meet again, just like we said we would when we were teenagers, at midday, on the 4th July, on the “Sunny Road”.
RB
It was my destiny. I know it probably sounds ridiculously slushy for a man to say this, but I have concluded that everyone in life has “one true love”. Now, I am not saying we all end up staying with our perfect partner, there are too many divorce statistics to prove that theory wrong, but at some stage in life, we get an opportunity to be with our ideal partner, some of us seize it, others fluff their lines.
There is one thing I am certain about. I am certain Kelly Watkinson is my ideal partner. I am also certain that now I have found her, I will never, ever let her get away. Other people may fail to seize their opportunity, but not me. I know I am destined to be with Kelly Watkinson until my dying day.
Kelly
Procrastination is a failing of mine! Often, I make snap decisions, decide I am going to act on impulse and then, once I have time to rationalise, I start thinking I have made the wrong decision, get caught between one thing and the other and end up going around in circles like a one armed canoeist. When I came across Anna Eccleston in New Zealand, I felt 100% certain that I needed to head home, meet up with Richie and re-kindle the fires of a love affair that should never have burnt out. My destiny was mapped out. I was going to finish with Brad, head up to Auckland and then jump on the first flight to the United Kingdom. Once there, I would immediately track Richie down, he would be euphoric, we would sprint into each other’s arms on a sun drenched “Sunny Road”, make love at dusk in a field of corn or sunflowers and then live happily ever after. Using Richie’s ‘Black Jack Theory’ we would be the unbeatable twenty one.
That is not what happened!
I finished with Brad. That bit was easy. Admittedly though, when we parted in Wellington, it felt a little strange. Relationships are crazy things really. At one point, you like someone enough to spend all your time with them, let them see you naked, allow them to touch you in places out of bounds to all others and then, further down the line, if that person is not ‘The One’, you decide you do not want to spend any time with them at all any more and hope you do not run into them again for the rest of your life! That is how it felt in Wellington, like I was consigning Brad to merely a memory.
Once Brad moved on in our “Ute”, I spent an enjoyable few days in windy Wellington, a beautiful city that I would love to return to, with its amazing coastal views, unique charm and fantastic, scenic cable cars. From there, I headed up by coach to Rotorua in the Bay of Plenty, internationally famous for its geothermal activity, with its steaming mud pools and geysers. I worked in a hostel in Rotorua, for three weeks, for a bit of pocket money and adjusted to the town’s eggy aroma that gave off the impression that the local teenagers never tired of the stink bomb gag!
After three weeks, I left Rotorua in a rental car with three Scottish girls from Bishopbriggs, who had been in Australia but then spent a month in New Zealand, touring around both islands and were on their way up to Auckland to return the car and then head home. I paid my share of the petrol, enjoyed their company and my abiding memory of them is that they introduced me to a Wirral band called Pele, as they constantly played their two albums, “Fireworks” and “Sport Of Kings” over and over again. I remember them winding the windows down, opening the sun roof and screaming out the words to a song called ‘Megalomania’ at the top of their lungs! As the song was not one I knew at the time, it was like observing a deranged ritual! Things like that you just don’t do when you are travelling alone!
In Auckland, I just chilled, enjoying the last few weeks of a time in my life I knew I would always look back upon fondly, ‘The Travelling Years’! I read constantly, I remember reading books by John Irving, Amos Oz, Milan Kundera, Josef Skvorecky (who’s books I particularly enjoyed) and every afternoon I would go to the cinema. The best film I saw was “Once Were Warriors”, which began an obsession with New Zealand film that I retain to this day. My favourite film of all time is ‘Whale Rider’ which even when I say the name of it, makes me cry! ‘Once Were Warriors’ comes in a close second. Those weeks were delightful and life is wonderful when you have time on your hands but ultimately, the most cherished moments are moments shared with a loved one and at that time, my lovelife was merely my past and my future, but not my present.
Sorry, I did not explain why I was chilling out in Auckland rather than desperately jumping on to a flight to London, basically, I had no choice! On my first day in Auckland, a cheery, elderly male travel agent with a neat, grey beard told me he could not get me on to a direct flight to London for six weeks. Sensing my disappointment, he told me that he could, however, get me on a flight after three weeks to Tahiti, then a subsequent flight to Los Angeles and then finally a third flight to London. His logic was that I could stop for ten days in Tahiti and ten in L.A and still be home as quickly as I would be by taking a direct flight, but the stopovers were an opportunity not to be missed. He was right! It worked out about $250 dearer and I arrived back in the UK almost penniless but I knew, in all likelihood, the closest I would ever get to Tahiti in the rest of my days would be playing a David Essex CD! Sometimes there is more to life than money.
Leaving New Zealand and flying to Tahiti was bizarre as I travelled twenty two hours backwards in time. I felt like a small time Michael J.Fox. I left Auckland at ten o’clock at night and due to travelling through the international time zone, I arrived in Papeete in Tahiti at five in the morning on the same day! I thought how exciting it would be to do that on New Year’s Eve, 1999! Welcome in the new millennium at a massive party in Auckland or even Sydney and then hop on a plane to Tahiti and re-live the day again! Two Millennium parties for the price of one, or probably for the price of ten but it would have been worth it!
If I’m honest, when I arrived in Tahiti, and again when I arrived in L.A, I half expected to be delayed because some new adventure took me away from my intended path. Surprisingly, I did not end up living in Bora Bora for two years with a Tahitian, bronzed Adonis or twelve months in Venice Beach with a surfer dude! No complications crossed my path though, as I did not welcome their presence, my life had already been complicated enough, my focus was purely on Richie. I spent ten days on the Tahitian island of Moorea, sleeping in a two man tent alone, on a beachside campsite. Once I reached Los Angeles, I found myself a cheap motel by ‘LAX’ and spent the ten days doing the touristy bit, I did the ‘Walk of Fame’ visit on Hollywood Boulevard, took a stroll along Sunset Strip on Sunset Boulevard, went to see the Hollywood sign in the Hollywood Hills and went to Mulholland Drive and took the best photo of my trip, a panoramic shot of Los Angeles, taken with a cheap camera I picked up in a supermarket for ten dollars! Three weeks after leaving Auckland, I arrived, as intended, at Heathrow airport.
For a long, long time I had dreaded reaching ‘Passport Control’ at Heathrow. Mentally, when I pictured my arrival back in the UK, I always imagined a
strong hand on my shoulder and an armed policeman with a German Shepherd leading me to a holding cell, before facing a belated trial for murder. Reality was more straightforward. A young, stern lady with a pale complexion and her hair tied back in a bun, like someone from a John William Waterhouse painting, beckoned me forward. I handed her my passport, she studied my photograph and then began my interrogation.
“You’ve been away a long time,” she said in a monotone voice as she flicked through my passport pages with the various visa stamps.
“Yes,” I replied timidly, “almost six years”.
“Did you miss the rain too much?”
“The people,” I answered, “I missed the people too much.” Then, handing my passport back she said,
“Nice people or not, give it a week and you’ll be wishing you were away again!”
‘Welcome to London!’, I thought as I put my passport back in my handbag. I was free to go. There was no real interrogation, I was welcomed back to my home country like any other seasoned traveller. Welcome back but you should have stayed away! I had spent far too much time fretting about my return, Anna had been right, no-one was interested in me. The other thing that Anna had mentioned though, was that Jemma had a certain notoriety in Ormskirk following Mum’s death. As I stood at the luggage collection, I began to ponder what a return to Ormskirk could mean. If I headed there and took root, would I always be the victim of whispered accusations?
I am not a brave person. My default mode is cowardice. Being back in England, although I could feel its emotional pull for some time, was already scaring me. For six weeks, all I had wanted was to be back in England and to begin my search for Richie, but now I was back I was not just apprehensive, I was petrified. Questions kept filling my head. What if Richie did not want to see me? What if he had a girlfriend or a wife or even children? Was it right that my intended search was focused on Richie rather than Jemma? After all, Richie had been no more than a teenage sweetheart, Jemma had virtually raised me single-handedly and had suffered more at my selfish hands than anyone. I made a decision. A cowardly decision. I did not want to subject myself to any abuse in Ormskirk. I also began to worry how Richie would react. Maybe the wisest thing to do was to test the waters first. I decided the safest option would be to stay in London for a while, take stock, not rush into any rash decisions I may regret for the rest of my life.
