Jersey Girl

by J A Heron

  Each leg feels like a lead weight as I climb the stairs. A sob breaks when I reach the door to my room. The floodgates open as I strip for a much-needed shower.

  Waking up the next morning, I rub my eyes as daylight hits them. I feel like shit. I didn’t sleep much; tossing and turning is the norm just lately. Remembering what Lisa said yesterday has my stomach twisting in so many knots I could join the yacht club back in Jersey. It’s useless. The horror I’m facing is nothing compared to what Lisa must be feeling. How did it all go so wrong so fast?

  I want to reach out to her, but it’s not that easy trying to forgive and forget all the callous things she did to me. Even though she has a terminal illness, I’m struggling to find the decency within me to accept her apology. I want to, but each time I think about letting all the history between us lie, it all comes flooding back and I remember why I hate my lying, deceitful sister.

  I turn over when I see it’s still early, and I’m willing to miss breakfast for another couple of hours’ sleep.

  I wake up with a start, the visions of a certain bald guy with amazing artwork over almost every inch of his skin, and blue eyes, uttering the words ‘Jersey Girl’ make me feel all warm and cuddly. I wrap myself in my duvet and turn over once more. Broken sleep is the worst, because when I wake again, it’s past eleven. A knock on the door has me diving out of bed and running for the door.

  Claudia looks pissed when I greet her with, “What’s up?”

  “You have a visitor in twenty minutes. It would be incredibly rude not to show up for someone who has travelled a long way to see you.” She actually tuts at me.

  “Who’s coming?” I ask, afraid of the answer.

  “I believe it’s your friend. The one who came to see you a few days ago.”

  “Yes!” I punch the air, elated that Benny is stopping by again. “Thanks, Claud.”

  She rolls her eyes then turns around and walks away down the corridor.

  Knowing my friend is on her way has lifted my mood. I can’t wait to speak to Benny about all that has happened. She’s only visiting for an hour, and that hour will be rammed to the brim with discussion. She’ll no doubt have many questions. I spot Dan leaving his room and he meets my eyes, but I quickly close the door, not wanting to interact with him when I’m in such a foul mood. I feel bad for not speaking to him after his confession during our group session, but I think I have a right to be a little selfish considering all I’m dealing with at the moment. I only have the temperament to deal with one crisis at the time.

  “Fucking what?” Benny yells. All heads turn in our direction after her outburst. I’ve just given her the condensed version of the events of yesterday. Time is of the essence here, and we’re on a tight schedule to fully catch up. I have a lot to unload, and so does Benny by the look on her face.

  “You want to keep it down? Everyone’s staring.” I look around, nodding at a few people who are still gawping at us. I shrug, then do a circular motion with my index finger at my temple. I then point at Benny, who quickly swats my hand away.

  “I’m not crazy.” She laughs. “But you are if you’re going to fall for her bullshit.”

  “You think she could be lying about the cancer to get back into my good graces?”

  “It’s a possibility.” She tilts her head to the side. It never occurred to me. “She wouldn’t be the first person to use the big C as an excuse to get what she wants.”

  I don’t know what to say. Surely even she wouldn’t stoop that low. “With all the crappy things she’s done in the past, I wouldn’t put it past her,” I say, thinking long and hard about the implications of her dishonesty.

  “I’m not saying it’s a cert, but just think about it. First, she alienates you for your parents’ death, then she high tails it with all the money, then she steals your boyfriend. Now, she’s pleading terminal illness, and she shows up here expecting you to take pity on her. If it was me, I wouldn’t trust her as far as I could chuck her.”

  “I guess I should think about all of it. And for the record, he was never my boyfriend. We dated briefly, we slept together, then he did what most men do. Succumbed to the first woman who opens her legs for him. If you ask me, I’ve had a lucky escape.” Even I don’t believe my own lies, so how I expect Benny to is beyond me.

  “Okay.” She draws out the word. “Talking of Connor, I have news.”

  Here it comes; the conversation I’ve been dreading. I knew something was up the moment she sat down. It’s written all over her face, and I’m surprised she’s here so soon after her last visit. I’m grateful she’s taken the time to come and see me again, but something tells me there is purpose to this visit.

  “What is it?” I ask, afraid of the answer.

  “He knows where you are. He knows you’re in rehab.”

  “Why is he so interested? How does he know?”

  “Okay, don’t shoot the messenger.” She shifts in her seat, looking increasingly uncomfortable. “He asked Raven. Raven wasn’t prepared to lie, they discussed it, and Raven told him you were in rehab. Connor wanted to know where, and he also let the name of this place slip.”

  “That’s okay,” I tell her. “It’s fine. Mainly because I think it doesn’t really matter. Connor would never show up here. He’s with Lisa now.”

  “But he isn’t, that’s the point I’m making. They never were. Raven told me.”

  I let her words hang above us like some weird cartoon where word bubbles float above the characters’ heads. “Huh?”

  “I know, right? I was shocked too. It was all an elaborate ploy on Lisa’s part into fooling you that she’d bedded Connor. That woman is slyer than a bitch fox in heat in the middle of summer.”

  I chuckle at her words, but it’s short-lived when the severity of what I’m being told sinks in. All the booze, or lack of it, must be playing with my head because I’m struggling to keep up with it all.

  “So, how did she get the naked pics of Connor?”

  “He stayed at her place. He took off his shirt to sleep on her sofa, and that’s when she snapped the pics and sent them to you.”

  “What was he doing at her place?”

  “She conned him,” she murmurs, not wanting anyone to overhear. “She told him a pack of lies about you. All the stuff Lisa did to you, she told him that it was all you, not her. He fell for it too, and he’s ashamed of it. Ashamed that she sucked him right in. She tried to seduce him, but he flatly refused her. He told Raven he still has feelings for you. Raven is sworn to secrecy, but I got the juicy bits out of him.” She rubs her knuckles on her chest after blowing on them.

  “Wait a minute.” I wave my hand in front of her face, needing her to stop talking. This is all too much information to get in such a short space of time. I need to put a pin in all of this and come back to it. “If he’s so ashamed that he was conned by her, why hasn’t he tried to contact me? Why isn’t he the one here explaining it all to me?”

  “Because he feels like an idiot.”

  “He is an idiot. A big, sexy idiot.” I laugh. But he’s my idiot.

  “Also…” she hesitates, blinks a few times then continues, “…he wants to come and see you.”

  “What? Why? He can’t see me like this.” I gesture to my less than flattering mixed ensemble.

  “He feels partly responsible for you being here.”

  “Well, he should. He is,” I say with honesty. “But, no. Thanks, but no thanks. I don’t want to see him.”

  “I thought you might say that, and I’ve already told Raven he should try and talk him out of it. Without letting on that he’s told me everything, of course.”

  “I don’t want to come between two friends. I think it’s best if we let it go. If I want to see him at a later date, I can get a message to him. Does Audrey know any of this? Because she’s not seen or heard from him for weeks. She’s worried about him.”

  “I don’t think so. I’ve not told her anything.”

  My head is all over the pla
ce. I don’t know what to believe anymore. I should believe my friend, but when all the information is coming at me third hand, it’s difficult to know which way is up.

  Until I hear all this from the horse’s mouth, and I’m able to look him in the eye, it’s all just hearsay.

  That hour passed by faster than any in history. I want to ask more questions. Questions Benny won’t have the answers to, and I’ve not even scratched the surface when discussing what happened with Jess. She knows I’m feeling her loss, and the warm hug she gives me before she leaves reminds me why this woman is the best friend anyone could have.

  I tried to talk to Benny about Dan too, but our time was cut short before I could really get going. I’m reminded that I still have to face him, and I’m hoping, when our paths do eventually cross, it will be a little less awkward than before.

  I sit in a major sulk for about forty minutes after Benny leaves. It kills me that I’m stuck here with nothing to do, no one to talk to, and a whole load of stuff I want to say to the one person I’m not able to. I replay everything Benny said to me less than an hour ago, and it replays on shuffle, repeat, over and over again. He never went with Lisa. He tried to confide in her, but she broke his trust. Does he know about the pictures she sent me? Does he have any clue about the level of heartache he’s caused me? Their actions – particularly Lisa’s – have caused a serious crack in my heart. I’m hoping that, with time, willpower, and determination, I can leave here, sober, and willing to heal the gaping hole that’s been left behind.

  I tap my foot anxiously against the floor, desperate for Lisa to return. Desperate for her to bring the answers to all my questions with her. She must’ve known she’d be leaving a mess behind when she showed up here looking for redemption. She dropped an almighty pile of crap in my lap, asked for forgiveness, then walked back out without telling me she didn’t sleep with Connor. Part of me is wondering if she’s just taking baby steps to mend our broken siblingship, or she’s continuing to be the malicious, devious cow she’s always been. I’m going crazy with all the racing thoughts.

  The dining hall is being set up ready for arts and crafts day, but I have no interest today. I’m in no mood to make, model, or create anything, so I decide on hiding myself away in the library. Getting lost in an enjoyable book seems like a good idea.

  I marked another day off my calendar this morning, and I only have a couple more weeks before I’m out of here for good. My rehab is going as expected – according to Claudia, Dr. Hart, and other counsellors – so I’m on track to making the great escape, leaving this place, and my former inebriated self behind for good.

  Apparently, a book should never be judged by its cover, but I can’t resist the dark, foggy picture depicting something dark and mysterious within its pages. The genre: Thriller. The author: A favourite of mine. The synopsis: Sounds right up my street.

  I pull out the cushions from the drawer underneath the window seat, make myself comfortable, and begin. Fifteen chapters, and I’m whizzing through the book in no time. I’m gripped. I hear the door open, and Dan walks in, making me freeze mid-page. He smiles, and the tense awkwardness seems to vanish when he says, “Hi.”

  “Any good?” he asks, nodding towards the book in my hand.

  I’m a little annoyed at being disturbed at a crucial part, but don’t want to appear rude. “It’s great.” My response comes out a little harsher than I intended.

  “Cool. I just came to get myself something new. I seem to be reading a lot just lately.”

  “Me too,” I lie. This is the first book I’ve picked up since I’ve been here.

  “Recommend anything?” he asks, walking towards one of the large bookcases.

  “Err,” I hesitate. “There’s some great non-fiction on there, all about the psychology of addiction. You may want to check them out.” I have no idea why I’m saying this stuff. The last thing I want to read is a book by some shrink who likes to delve into the mind of an addict. Dan may not feel the same.

  “I’ll give those a miss.” He chuckles. Pulling a random book off the shelf, he tucks it under his arm, then walks towards the door. “Nice catching up with you.”

  I’m so pleased we’re not in that awkward space after sharing a kiss. My sarcastic mind chooses this moment to speak into my psyche.

  “Wait up, Dan.” I jump up from my happy spot in the window.

  He stops, turns around to face me, and waits for me to join him at the door. “I’m sorry…”

  “What are you sorry for, Kat?”

  “I’m sorry for being cold towards you. I just… I… I…” I stutter, unsure of how to put how I’m feeling into words. “I want to talk to you, about your… stuff,” I say, referring to his addiction, his problems, the kiss we shared.

  “It’s fine. It was just a kiss. It was a very nice kiss.” He grins salaciously at me, causing my cheeks to fire up. “But it was just a kiss all the same.”

  “I’m glad you agree. I’m not ready for… you know.”

  “I don’t know what you mean.” He knows exactly what I mean, and what I’m trying to say. He cuts me off when I try to clarify. “I get it. You’re not ready for me. For men in general. You don’t have to explain. We both got tangled up in a moment. We share a brief history. I was attracted to you back then, and then you left. I never heard a word from you.”

  “I called you, right before I left.”

  “I know. That was the last time I heard from you. Never even saw you in school. Where did you go?”

  “I had to leave. Shit happened, so I left as soon as I could. I moved to Jersey…”

  “Jersey? Channel Islands?”

  “Yep.” I nod bashfully. It’s hard to talk to him about all of this. It’s dredging up history I don’t want to talk to him about. “I’m glad you made it as a doctor. I’m sorry about the, you know…”

  “The Morphine addiction? Yeah, I know. It’s a bummer.” We both laugh at his way of describing his addiction. “And I’m sorry too. I’m sorry about your, you know…”

  “Alcoholism? Yeah, I know. Bummer…”

  Throwing his words back at him causes giggling between us, and it has ironed out some of the subliminal stiff tension around us, so much so, I feel my shoulders relax as we converse a little more.

  As we leave the library together, both of us holding books, he asks unexpectedly, “What happened to your sister? Lisa, right?”

  I look at him cautiously. “No idea. We just drifted apart.”

  “Oh.” His brow furrows.

  “Why do you ask?”

  “I just wondered. She came back to town just after you left. Her and that Jack Howard got married. She got pregnant a couple of times, but she kept having miscarriages. I was training as a junior doctor when she came into the emergency department. She was black and blue. We filed endless domestic abuse cases against him, but she dropped the charges every time.”

  My gaping mouth must be clear sign that I had no idea any of this was happening. I stand mute, unable to voice the fact that I feel like my only sister had made her bed, and was made to lie in it.

  I know it’s a heartless thing to think, but I wasn’t there. I wasn’t with her when any of this was happening. She betrayed me, I left, then that ass-wipe – Jack – used her as a punching bag. She lost I don’t know how many babies as a result, and the thought that crosses my mind is ‘I could’ve been an aunt’, and I would never have known.

  “What happened to him?”

  “Don’t know. Last I heard he was arrested for beating another woman. She did press charges and made it stick. I guess Lisa had an incredibly lucky escape.”

  Today, I’ve been swarmed with an influx of information, and I’m trying so hard to process it all. It’s an impossible task.

  “Well, it was nice to chat,” I say, cutting this little tête-à-tête short. “Enjoy the book.” I tap it gently, and it almost falls from underneath his arm.

  “Will do.” He smiles warmly at me, juggling with said boo
k before it lands at his feet.

  I chuckle as I walk away, but I’m needing the solace only my room can offer. If I curl up into a ball, flip some pages, and get lost in a fictional world of bad men, drug lords, and murder, it’ll be just what the doctor ordered.

  I half read, and half wrestle with a constant barrage of flashbacks from the conversation I had with Dan. I’m a prisoner, captured. Being stuck in this hell continues to throw a shadow over my mood. I’m in constant limbo, trying to make sense of all that Lisa did, not only to me, but also herself, and others around her.

  I want to call Benny. I want to discuss what she said to me earlier today, and so much more. Dan illuminated plenty of dirt on my sister earlier, and I want so much to share all that I learned with her too. She’s the one who holds all the reason at the moment. Mine vanished the moment I set foot over the threshold to Witchfield Manor.

  I’m looking forward to my session with Dr. Hart tomorrow. Mainly because it’s the penultimate session of my stay here. Only two more meetings, and I’ll be a step closer to going home.

  I’m completely focussed on my rehabilitation, and I’ve never been more serious about leaving here sober. With all that’s happened in my history, and recently, I’ve never been more determined to make it out of here as a strong, independent woman who is in control of herself. Losing this battle with something so abhorrent is not an option.

  I have so many people to thank. Audrey, for one. She’s the one paying God knows how much money for this treatment. Second, Benny, for always being there. My rock, my confidant, and my angel in the light when all around me seemed dark and hopeless. Third, Lisa, for showing me that, even though we’re related, bonded by blood, even family can stab you in the back when you least expect it. I have seen the darkness within her, and it’s not a pretty sight. I’m lucky to have been granted a second sight, a way of escaping such darkness when it tried with all its might to sink its claws in to me, grab hold, and never let me go. Fourth, all the people I’ve met at Witchfield – Claudia, Dr. Hart, counsellors, fellow rehab residents, cooks, cleaners – the whole shebang, even Jess. Every single person I’ve met here has been worth their weight in gold, and I’ll be eternally grateful.