Like now, as he leans in the doorway of the tiny little kitchen watching her dance around in her underwear and a faded T-Shirt that is full of holes, he feels completely at ease. She looks so good. And whatever it is she is cooking, smells amazing. It is simple moments like this, these little snap shots in time, that make him yearn for this kind of life. He wants out of the world he has lived in for so long. He wants, for once, to walk a decent path instead of constantly straddling right and wrong. He wants it all and he wants it with Abbey.
Yet if he is totally honest with himself, he isn’t sure if he will ever be able to fully break away from the drug dealing and petty crime that over the years have become commonplace. Anything outside of that world feels completely unknown to him.
“Anything I can do?” He asks, as he opens the fridge door and pulls out another beer. Abbey turns, not quite startled but clearly not expecting him to be standing so close.
“No thanks. I think I have everything under control…!” She smiles, skipping over to him in time to the music and planting a tender kiss on the corner of his mouth. Alex takes a swig of beer as she turns back to the stove and he watches fondly as she sways back and forth, singing under her breath more than a little out of tune. Smiling, she tilts her head round and raises her eyebrows.
“Are you making sure I don’t burn anything?” She enquires, sarcastically.
“No… mainly I’m just enjoying the view…”
“Is that right? Well dinner is almost ready…” Alex takes the hint and slaps Abbey’s backside as he walks back into the living room and over to the two seater dining table that sits in front of the bay window. It is another perfectly clear night. The moon reflects beautifully across the ocean which is calm in the stillness and the sky is littered with stars.
“Shall I open a red or are you sticking with beer?” Abbey shouts from the kitchen.
“Red is good…” He yells back, unsure whether she has heard him over the music until she dances through the door with the bottle in one hand and two glasses in the other. She wiggles her hips and uses them to push Alex out of the way so she can place them down on the table and he grabs hold of her waist, kissing her neck.
“It’s really not fair of you to flaunt a vision like that arse you know?”
“I am not flaunting… I’m dancing! And you get to see this arse on a regular basis so it shouldn’t really be affecting you in such a red blooded way…!” Alex laughs at her feministic statement and kisses her seductively below the ear.
“The day you don’t affect me in that way Miller, it will be a fair few degrees colder in hell. It’s out of my control…” As he begins to slide his hand underneath her t-shirt Abbey slaps it away and wriggles in his arms.
“Well you’ll have to control it right now because the food is ready…”
“Forget the food…” Alex murmurs as he nuzzles her neck.
“ALEX!” Abbey giggles, trying her hardest to squirm free, “It’s still on the stove, it’s gonna catch on bloody fire in a minute…!” As she breaks out of his grasp and darts back into the kitchen he shakes his head in amusement.
“I suppose we don’t want you setting off the smoke alarm again, do we?”
“I did not set the smoke alarm off, it was the log fire!”
“If you say so…” He smirks.
“I’ll have you know the smoke alarm loves my cooking…” Abbey states defiantly, “It always cheers me on!” Alex laughs loudly at Abbey’s joke which has an element of truth to it, but before he has chance to sit down at the table his phone rings and he jogs over to where it is plugged in on charge, picking it up and swiping the screen.
“Hello?”
Abbey serves up the food and carries it proudly through to the living room, but her smile quickly fades as she notices the concern etched on Alex’s face. He is leaning against the fireplace with his phone to his ear, listening intently. His anxious body language speaks volumes and it is there in his eyes, that look that she had almost forgotten about, the one she hasn’t seen since they left home. He is in full on business mode and the serious, defensive, in control Alex is back without question.
“OK… so what now?” He asks.
Abbey can guess who is on the other end of the line and her heart sinks as she drops dejectedly into one of the chairs, suffering from a sudden loss of appetite. It is the call she has been dreading. She knew it was bound to happen eventually but she isn’t ready to give all this up and return home to face reality. She doesn’t want to leave, “OK. Thank you… and I’m sorry about all this. I never meant for it to get so out of hand, I really appreciate you stepping in…. will do… thanks…” Alex hangs up the phone and turns to face Abbey. The flickering orange glow from the fire lights the contours on his face, plunging him half into shadow, almost as if the darker side of his personality is already clawing its way back to the surface.
“Moorland?” Abbey asks, meekly.
“Yeah… apparently it’s all sorted…” His answering tone is just as quiet as he stares down at his feet.
“So I guess the holiday’s over…” Abbey tries to muster a smile but she can feel the tears forming behind her eyes as she desperately tries to swallow back the lump in her throat, “I should probably start packing…” She stands and Alex frowns at her, taking three steps forward as he holds his hand out tentatively.
“Aren’t you going to eat your food?”
“I’m not so hungry now…” Abbey can hear the tone in her voice changing into one of sadness and disappointment. She knows this isn’t Alex’s fault and that they had to go home eventually but she is struggling to hide her true feelings.
“I’m sorry; I wish we could stay, but…”
“I know…” She sighs, closing the gap between them and wrapping her arms loosely around Alex’s waist. He bends his knees so that they are both at eye level and tilts her chin up, forcing her to look at him.
“Things will be different. All the bullshit with Marcus, it’s over now and once were back home things will be a lot easier. I promise…” Abbey smiles and nods in agreement as Alex pulls her into a tight embrace. She wants so badly to believe his words but she isn’t reassured. After the conversation several days ago on the beach she is well aware that they want the same things and she genuinely believed him when he confessed to craving a normal life, with no more crime or drug dealing or wannabe gangster thugs threatening them at every turn. But now that the notion of going back to Leeds is an actual reality she can feel the dread creeping back in and the dark clouds descending. Something tells her that the life they both long for isn’t going to be quite as easy to maintain away from their perfect little bubble in Ireland.
The journey home turns out to be worse than Abbey could have predicted. Alex is lost to her again… locked away deep in his thoughts, with those all too familiar frown lines permanently fixed on his face. She can tell that he is already planning three steps ahead, plotting his next move, ready to get back into the swing of things. Business as usual. She can feel the young, care free side of him slipping further and further out of her grasp as the distance between them and their beautiful little cottage grows.
At the airport they sign off the papers for the hire car and head straight to the departure lounge. The plane is delayed by half an hour due to bad weather, prolonging the inevitable and torturing Abbey even further. When they do finally take off, the flight feels like it is over in no time at all and they are soon descending into Leeds and Bradford Airport. Home at last.
It is a little after 8:00pm when they finally arrive back at the flat. As they round the corner to the front door Alex’s pace slows and Abbey peers around his shoulder, trying to see what has caught his attention and made him approach more cautiously. The front door handle is completely smashed in, with several splinters of wood sticking out of the frame work and scattered across the floor.
Abbey is about to say something but stops herself as she hears a low murmur from inside the kitchen. She feels a rush of pa
nic and grabs hold of Alex’s arm. Surely they haven’t returned home to a trap? Is Marcus in there waiting for them? But as she strains harder to listen, her breathing steadies when she recognizes the familiar voice. Alex opens the door and as they step inside, Lucy, Liam and Nathan all turn in unison. They are sitting around the glass table where Moorland and his men were gathered just two nights earlier and after a brief pause as the realisation sinks in, Lucy dives out of her seat and launches herself across the room. She throws her arms around both Alex and Abbey, almost knocking them over with the force of her hug.
Abbey’s mood instantly lifts as she is overcome with happiness and relief. She had been focusing so hard on her and Alex’s relationship - revelling in the fact that they were so far away from home and all of their troubles - that she had buried her feelings for her friends and pushed everything else to the back of her mind. It is only now, as Lucy is hanging off her neck refusing to let go, that she realizes just how much she has missed them.
“Hey Luc…” Abbey just about manages to choke out, and she finally takes a step back as Nathan and Liam look on, amused but also seemingly relieved.
“Don’t you two ever, ever leave like that again OK?” She practically yells, and Alex gently drapes his arm over her shoulders, kissing her on the top of the head.
“We won’t…” He smiles, and Abbey and Alex hug Liam and Nathan in turn as Gemma appears in the hallway, lingering sheepishly by the door.
“Are you OK?” She asks.
“Yeah, we’re fine…” Alex replies hesitantly, “How are you?”
“Better. Better now you guys are back…” She smiles timidly and he crosses the room, pulling her into a comforting embrace which she returns. Things seem to be looking up already.
“So where did you guys get to?” Liam asks.
“Ireland…” Abbey replies, smiling at Alex as they both think back to their perfect little escape, “We hired a cottage by the sea, went for walks on the beach, ate in every night… it was nice…”
“Sounds like a riot…” Liam laughs mockingly and Abbey punches him on the shoulder in protest.
“It was a nice change of pace…” Alex agrees and Liam pulls an ‘I never had you down for the quiet life’ kind of expression. If only he knew what Alex had confessed to her while they were over there? Maybe in time they will see the difference in him for themselves, if he sticks to his word and actually makes those changes. That remains to be seen.
“Well, you obviously had a better time of it than we did. Liam’s cousin, god bless him for putting us up, but seriously, to say he isn’t the cleanliest of guys would be a major understatement…!” Lucy screws up her nose as if visualising an unwanted memory and shakes her head in disgust.
“After three weeks it was starting to get a bit much…” Nathan nods in agreement, “We were getting a little stir crazy…”
“Yeah I can imagine…” Alex sighs, “I really am sorry for having to ask you to do this…”
“Well, it’s over now…” Lucy practically sings and Abbey can’t refrain from hugging her again. She has missed her bubbly, infectious optimism more than she can say.
“And everything can go back to normal…” Abbey adds cheerfully, but instead of being met with reassuring smiles and agreement from the others, Lucy, Liam, Nathan and Gemma all look down at the feet, shifting nervously.
“Almost…” Gemma whispers sadly and Alex stares at each of them in turn.
“What is it?” He asks, but before any of them can answer the battered front door creaks open and Darren and Sophie appear. Abbey instantly rushes over to Sophie and hugs her tightly as Alex shakes hands with Darren, pulling him forward and slapping him affectionately on the shoulder.
“You alright brother…?” Darren asks, as he takes a step back.
“Yeah… we’re good. It’s good to see you man…”
“You too…” He smiles, but he is visibly apprehensive and despite being happy to see Alex and Abbey home safe, something is clearly troubling him. Alex slowly scans the room again and everyone appears to be avoiding his gaze on purpose, everyone apart from Abbey, who is equally mystified.
“Will someone please tell me what the fuck is going on…?” He demands, and Darren reluctantly steps forward.
“It’s Tom…” He replies, sombrely, “He’s looking at nine and a half years…”
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
VISIONS
The transport entrance to Armley Prison is an eerie and unnerving sight. The large green door sits underneath a stone archway that is positioned in the middle of two castle style turrets and the faded brick work and iron clad windows have a dark, medieval look to them. Just off to the side there is a slightly less intimidating entrance which leads into the lobby of the main building.
Alex zips his jacket right up to the collar and thrusts his hands in his pockets in an attempt to block out the cold that is sending a chill right through him. He doesn’t know whether he feels this way due to the miserable weather or because of the empty dread that this place instils in him.
It is 5:30pm on a Wednesday evening and as he listens to the pounding rain hammering down on the roof above, he stares vacantly at the sign standing a few feet to the right that declares this as the ‘Visitor’s Entrance’. The irony isn’t lost on him. He is entering Armley Gaol of his own free will when he should really be wearing the light grey prisoners garb and pacing irritably in his cell. Alex cannot stand the idea of being locked up. Losing his freedom is his worst nightmare and he knows all too well that he wouldn’t be able to handle it. He can’t think of anything worse and his stomach twists with a nervous guilt as he waits in line to see his best friend for the first time in over two months.
Tom is in this position because of him. He got a nine year sentence because he refused to admit that he was working alongside anyone else during the robbery, insisting that he acted alone. In short, he didn’t give Alex or Darren up to the police, which would no doubt have bought him favour with the judge. He took the full responsibility and even if he gets out in half the time on good behaviour, it is still five years of his life that he will never get back.
As Alex reaches the front of the queue he empties his pockets into one of the small, metal lockers and stands with his legs apart and his arms raised. A female prison warden carefully pats him down, first the right side then the left. She checks his documentation against his name on the list and waves him through without a single word. Why is it that people in positions of authority such as prison guards or airport security, always have a way of treating you like a suspect? They look at you as though you’ve done something wrong even when you are following orders and towing the line.
If only she knew the truth.
Alex enters a large, open plan room alongside the other visitors and discreetly picks a table over by the window. It is very basic, with stark white walls and a linoleum floor that squeaks under foot. The numerous benches are set out in orderly rows, each with four chairs arranged neatly around them and there are two hefty looking security guards lurking vigilantly in the background. As the door that leads from the prison block slides open, the inmates file quietly into the room in a regimented fashion. Tom is the last to appear and Alex instantly stands, half raising his hand to catch his attention.
He struggles with a conflicting range of emotion as he watches Tom slowly cross the room, feeling happy, relieved and extremely thankful that he is walking, talking, alive and still breathing; but at the same time, seeing him so uniformed in the standard grey prison sweats and t-shirt makes his heart sink. It is a painful vision and it makes the situation - and his guilt - all the more real.
They smile feebly at one another in an awkward silence as Alex tries to think of something to say, but every form of greeting that runs through his mind seems far too casual and informal. Eventually, at exactly the same moment, they both take a step forward and pull each other into a desperate hug. When they finally break apart they each take a seat and Tom rubs his
face with his hands.
“You look like shit…” He jokes and Alex smiles despite himself. God he’s missed him.
“It’s not a patch on how I feel mate…” He answers solemnly and Tom shakes his head at the floor.
“We don’t need to have this conversation Al. I’m not angry; I don’t feel betrayed. You’d have done the same for me if it was the other way round… I know that…” Alex nods earnestly in response. It’s true. Despite how much losing his freedom would destroy Alex he would still go down for Tom if he had to. He would die for him; and he knows that same level of loyalty works both ways. Tom would die for him as well. He almost did.
“How are you holding up…?” Alex asks.
“I’m alright. I had my last hospital visit yesterday and they say I’m fighting fit, so that’s good. I don’t think I’ll be doing back flips anytime soon but I’m healed…” Alex nods again and Tom smiles at his lost, guilt ridden expression, “It really doesn’t matter how many times I tell you this isn’t your fault… does it?” He laughs quietly under his breath.
“Why did you do it you silly bastard…?” Alex sighs in frustration, “Why the fuck did you have to push me out the way?”
“Keep your voice down…” Tom warns, as he glances subtly over his shoulder, checking for the guards that are pacing the room. Thankfully, they are out of earshot.
“Don’t think I’m not fucking pissed off with you for making that call…” Alex snaps, leaning forward and glaring at him irritably. A look of amusement slowly begins to spread across Tom’s face and he throws his hands up in the air in mock indignation.
“Fuck me! You’re welcome you ungrateful prick…” He states - and once again he somehow manages to snap Alex out of his anger. They both end up laughing despite the fact that there is nothing even remotely funny about the situation they find themselves in. It might seem crazy but it is incredibly therapeutic, and Alex wishes more than anything that they were sat outside in The Locke beer garden having this conversation over a cold pint, instead of here in this horrible stale room that smells like crap food and disinfectant. He’d give anything to change this.
Even Angels Fall Page 32
