Meant to Be Me

by Wendy Hudson

  They were both quiet, and Eilidh sipped her pint as Sam continued to digest it all.

  “So Anja and Darcy are stepsisters, then?”

  “I suppose technically they are. Although they obviously didn’t grow up together or really know anything about the other. They were so young when everything happened between Anja’s dad and Darcy’s mum. Darcy knew her as Annika then, and when they moved to Australia, she was told not to ask about her anymore.”

  “All this time it’s been her. Torturing Darcy and threatening you.”

  “Yup.” Eilidh shook her head in wonder. “After her mum died I guess it all just unravelled from there.”

  “Why Darcy though? Why not blame Liz? Or her dad?”

  “Oh, I think she does. But she was curious about Darcy, I think because they were similar in age and in Anja’s fucked-up view of the world, Darcy had replaced her. So she tracked her down and the obsession must have grown from there. From everything she said at the cabin that night, it’s like all her anger and guilt was wrapped up in this little Darcy box and hurting her was the only way to make herself feel better.”

  “Until she fell in love with her.”

  Eilidh smirked. “If you can call it that. I don’t think Anja truly knows how she feels about anything, never mind love. That’s if she even feels at all.”

  “Wow.” Sam sat back wide-eyed. “Is it wrong to sort of feel sorry for her?”

  Eilidh shrugged. “I don’t think so. I know that’s what Darcy is struggling with right now. After everything she still feels bad about what Anja went through. I guess she thinks if she can put herself in Anja’s shoes, she might understand how it escalated to all this and somehow figure out why it happened.”

  Sam shook his head in disbelief and blew out a long breath. “By the sound of it I’m not sure Anja could explain that, never mind Darcy trying to figure it out herself.”

  “I know. But it’s a process. I’ve got to let her work through it in her own way and just be there for her.”

  Sam reached for her hand and squeezed. “Well, at least that’s one good thing to have come out of it all.”

  “What?”

  “It brought you both together. She’s pretty great, Eilidh.”

  Eilidh smiled then at the thought that Darcy would be there when she got home that night.

  “She really is.”

  He grinned. “You’re smitten.”

  “A wee bit,” she admitted, and clinked his glass.

  He smiled, and Eilidh felt a moment of normalcy. It felt good just her and Sam in the pub, doing their usual thing by putting the world to rights over a few pints. She knew there would be more questions, she had a thousand of them herself, but for now she would savour every minute that Anja wasn’t at the forefront of her mind.

  “So when do you head off on your Australian adventure?”

  “As soon as possible, and I can’t fricking wait.”

  “I bet. You both deserve it. Although I’ll miss you.”

  Eilidh scooped up their empty glasses and stood ready to head to the bar. She punched a meaty bicep playfully and kissed the top of his head. “I’ll miss you too, Tommo.”

  Chapter 57

  Anja’s body felt leaden and useless. It refused do or say what she wanted whilst inside she screamed. She called for Darcy over and over, but no one was listening.

  She blearily took in her surroundings. Two uniformed officers filled the small space, and she groaned as every awful moment from that night flooded her memory.

  The throbbing in her head was relentless. It wouldn’t give her space to think, and panic settled on her chest, robbing the breath from her lungs. She wanted Darcy, needed her there at her side to tell her it would all be okay, the same as Anja had done when the roles had been reversed.

  You’re never going to see her again.

  Her mother’s voice penetrated the fog, brutal and unflinching as always. She delighted in Anja’s misery and failure.

  All that time, all that work and planning, and you threw it all away for a daydream.

  Shut up. Shut up. Shut up.

  She screwed her eyes closed and focused on the pain, implored it to block the voice out. She needed to think, to figure out a way to make everything okay because the voice was right—that was the worst part—she had failed.

  All because of Eilidh.

  Eilidh had fucked everything up and stolen Anja’s world away.

  You can’t blame her. You did this to yourself.

  Anja refused to accept that. Yes, she had messed up in the end, but without Eilidh’s interference, she knew it could have worked with Darcy. It would have. It was Eilidh who had pushed her to the edge, had forced her to let the voice take over and caused the chaos at the cabin.

  The smell of smoke clung to her nostrils, and she longed to wash it away, along with the cruel events of that night. Anja had never meant to do any of it, but she had been powerless to stop it. She had lost herself to the voice for only a few moments, but it had been long enough.

  Oh God, the cabin. Darcy’s beautiful home reduced to ash because Anja had lost control. She had allowed her mother to consume her thoughts and actions, and then torn down everything that mattered to Darcy. Her home, their friendship, their love.

  The thought of hurting Darcy in any way now ripped her apart. Anja needed to see her, to apologise, to beg and ask her what needed to be done to make it all right.

  You’ll never make this right.

  Her limbs began to come back to life, and she writhed and twisted under the rough sheets, straining against them in an attempt to sit up. Her body bucked as she yanked and rattled her handcuffed wrists against the bars of the bed.

  She pleaded with the police officers. “Please. I have to see Darcy. Let me out of here.”

  The one sat next to her stood and grabbed at her hands. He was firm and held them tight. “If you don’t stop that I’ll call the doctor and get him to knock you out again. Make this easier on yourself and behave.”

  “I have to see her. I need her.” She saw pity in the officer’s eyes and felt the fight desert her body. She relented and dropped back against the pillows with a heavy sigh. “You have to let me talk to her.”

  He sat down again and smirked. “The only person you’ll be talking to is your solicitor and a detective. So calm yourself. Then this’ll go a whole lot smoother for all of us.”

  Anja turned her attention to the officer stood at the door, but she avoided meeting Anja’s sorrowful gaze. Instead, she pulled a vibrating phone from her pocket and spoke quietly in to it.

  “Aye, she’s awake. Seems okay, but I’ll get the doctor in to take another look and report back.” The officer nodded a few times and murmured her agreement to questions that Anja couldn’t hear. She wished she knew what was being said about her. What her fate was.

  It wasn’t long before she found out.

  She had a mild concussion, a couple of stitches and bruises, and was declared fit to be transported to the police station.

  Where you belong.

  She couldn’t argue with the voice. As the car sped towards impending incarceration, her heart thumped and she swallowed back tears. How had she ended up here?

  She leant her head against the car window and let the tears fall. She cried for her mother, for herself, for everything she had done to Darcy, and for what she had lost.

  You didn’t lose her. You never had her.

  “But I could have!” she screamed out in to the stuffy air and hit her head against the window, infuriated and frustrated. All she wanted was a minute of quiet. A minute to herself.

  “Oi! Pipe down back there.” The officer glared back at her, and she stared him down. She held his gaze as she bashed her head against the window once more. Then again. And again.

  “She’s fucking losing it. Put your fo
ot down.”

  They know who you really are, Anja. Darcy knows, and soon the whole world will.

  She raised the cuffs on her wrists to her forehead and thumped with everything she had. Every broken part of her poured out as she screamed and cried, clawing and battering the body that kept her prisoner. She felt dizzy and exhausted, could taste blood in her mouth, but she was unrelenting until the voice fell silent and quiet finally descended.

  Her body was no longer her own.

  Anja allowed it to be dragged and manipulated as the officers processed her through the station and cautiously led her towards a cell.

  She registered the odd few words—“need a doctor”, “fucking mental”, “twenty-four-hour surveillance”—but she was beyond caring. They didn’t understand. They never could.

  I understood you but then you abandoned me. Tried to replace me with her. Now look where you are.

  Any attempt to speak with her, any question asked, any order given, her response was the same.

  “Darcy.”

  “Yes, yes. Darcy. Darcy. Darcy. We get it.”

  That’s all she wanted. All she needed. The frustration of having Darcy kept from her was unbearable. She had suffered in the past, but not knowing when she might see Darcy again was a torture she had never before experienced, and it choked her.

  She felt cold. They had given her something. There had been another doctor, a needle, and now gentle hands eased her down on to a hard bed. The light was so bright.

  “Darcy.”

  Footsteps retreated away from her, and she tried to raise a hand to stop them. She didn’t want to be alone.

  “Darcy isn’t coming, Anja.” It was the female police officer. “You need to forget about her and think about yourself right now.”

  She’s going to forget about you, Anja. I bet she’s so happy to have you out of her life.

  Anja turned towards the wall and wrapped her arms around herself, curling in to a tight ball. “You’re wrong. She won’t leave me here. I know she loves me.”

  She flinched as the cell door slammed shut and the voice began to laugh.

  Chapter 58

  Eilidh threw another T-shirt towards her case, and Darcy automatically picked it up and started folding it. “Do you really think it will do either of you any good?”

  “I’m working on the basis that it can’t do us any more harm.” Darcy laid the T-shirt on a pile and caught the next one Eilidh threw. “How long do you think we’re going for? That’s fifteen T-shirts now, six vests, and twelve pairs of shorts.”

  Eilidh shrugged. “I like to pack for every eventuality. It’s going to be scorching, so I figure I’ll need to change lots.”

  “My mum has this crazy contraption called a washing machine, you know?” Darcy dropped the T-shirt and moved towards Eilidh, slipping her arms around her waist she distracted her from more clothes with her lips.

  “Mm… I know what you’re doing.” Eilidh tried to pull away, but Darcy held on tight.

  “Are you complaining?”

  Eilidh grinned. “Not even a little.” She nodded towards their cases, Darcy’s starkly empty compared to hers. “I think you’re taking the piss though with only five T-shirts. I don’t want to spend this trip doing washing.”

  Darcy laughed and kissed her again. “Okay, if it makes you feel better, I’ll throw a few more in. But anyway, it’s you trying to distract me now. Back to Anja.”

  “Oh yes, Anja. How could I forget?” Eilidh rolled her eyes and continued trawling through her drawers. “You know I’ll support whatever you decide, but I’m worried about you going there. I’m allowed to be worried.”

  “I know, sweetheart.” Darcy plopped down on to the bed. “And I love you for worrying. But the doctor thinks it might help her, and I think it might help me too. Which will help us. I’ve spoken at length with my counsellor and she isn’t opposed.”

  “Really?” Eilidh stopped mid-rummage. “Is she not concerned it might set you back? Who knows what mindset Anja will be in or what she might say. How she might react. Given everything the counsellor has talked to you about, how the mind of a stalker works, the manipulation, the lies, placing her guilt on to you…”

  “Aye, I know all that and I’m prepared for it. I understand when she says she loves me that it isn’t real. That it can’t be. That doesn’t make it any easier emotionally to ignore. To forget. Maybe this is another important step towards doing that?”

  “Maybe.” Eilidh sighed but didn’t argue.

  Darcy knew it was difficult for Eilidh to comprehend that despite it all, Darcy still held very real feelings for Anja. No matter how falsely constructed Anja’s friendship and love had been, Darcy had invested so much in that friendship and still grieved its loss.

  “All I know is it feels unfinished. That night is such a blur. The fire, the blood and smoke, Anja in the mud, thinking she was dead. Then she’s being whisked away in the ambulance and the police are telling us they’ll formally arrest her when she wakes up. That’s the last time I saw her. Lying bloodied on the ground.”

  “After she’d tried to kill you. Let’s not forget that part.” Eilidh crossed the room and sat close to her, slipping a reassuring arm around Darcy’s shoulders. “You shouldn’t be feeling guilty about that. In the moment it was all about survival, and I was the one that hit her. You don’t owe her anything. Most folk would be shocked you’re even considering going to visit her. It’s not as if we haven’t had a whole heap of shite to deal with since then.”

  “I know, but that doesn’t mean I forgot about her through it all.”

  “I’m not suggesting you did.” Eilidh gestured towards the chaos at the end of the bed and the dressing table laden with holiday paraphernalia. “But look. It’s all finally over. We’re packing our bags for an epic and well-deserved trip to Australia. Your mum and Olivia are beside themselves with excitement, and we finally get to move on. Together.”

  “And you think visiting Anja will mess all that up?” Darcy knew part of what Eilidh was saying was right. She knew why she was cautious and afraid of the potential fallout if Darcy went to see Anja. After months of high stress and turmoil, it did feel like they were finally turning a corner and laying ghosts to rest. The time had come to focus on each other and live the life they both dreamed of.

  But Darcy knew this was the final piece, and she couldn’t head to the other side of the world without seeing Anja one last time. She needed to know what had been real between them, if any of it, and what had been a façade. The doctor had suggested the visit as a way to help Anja move on, but deep in her heart Darcy knew it would likely help them both.

  Eilidh fiddled with the zip on a bag and sighed. “No. It’s not that. I trust you and know you’re not going into this lightly.”

  She looked at Darcy with such tenderness and concern that Darcy was ready to cave. She hated being the cause of any moment that made Eilidh feel terrible.

  “Tell me not to go and I won’t.”

  Eilidh laughed. “As if I could tell you to do anything. Besides, that’s not how we work. I’m not going to stop you doing what you think is right. But I’m allowed to have reservations and I’m allowed to be worried about you.”

  Darcy turned towards her fully and took both her hands. “Okay, then, let’s talk those worries out. I’m not going unless you’re one hundred per cent on board.”

  Eilidh met Darcy’s gaze and smiled. “It’s just…do you know how lucky I feel to have you in my life? After everything. It’s as if the tide has turned and it’s all finally going my way. Those bastards that attacked me are in prison.” She furrowed her eyebrows at Darcy and attempted a stern voice. “You, thankfully, are not.”

  “Phew.” Darcy wiped invisible sweat from her brow. They both knew how lucky she had been to get off with only losing her license for a year, a fine, and a community order. The judg
e had thankfully taken in to account the mitigating circumstances of that night and Darcy’s previously clean record.

  “Now it’s our time,” Eilidh continued. “We get to be happy. I want us to be happy.”

  Darcy tugged her closer, and they both fell back on the bed where Darcy tucked herself under Eilidh’s arm. “I am happy, my brave idiot.” She prodded Eilidh’s side. “But I still need to do this. You’ll see. It’ll all keep going our way, and I’ll feel a lot better about how things were left with Anja. I’m sure of it.”

  Eilidh sighed dramatically but pulled Darcy in tighter. “Fine. But only because I love you.”

  Darcy chuckled and planted a kiss on her chin. “Does that mean you’ll drive me there?”

  Chapter 59

  Darcy was nervous. She stared up at the reinforced windows and took a deep breath. Doubt gripped her stomach, and the urge to flee was powerful. Eilidh had tried to make her reconsider one last time, had pleaded with her to wait until after their holiday, but she couldn’t. She had to see Anja.

  After Anja’s arrest, all contact with Darcy had inevitably stopped. Darcy had been reassured any mail would be intercepted and there would be no more phone calls. The silence had come with a sense of relief but also depression. The contact had stopped because her best friend was in prison.

  A little of what had occurred had been reported in the news. The fire at the cabin had drawn attention, and predictably more details of the case had gotten out. A female stalker was a rare occurrence, and the level and length of deception seemed to have captured a number of journalist’s attention.

  Then Anja had gone on hunger strike.

  It made the headlines after three weeks when she was hospitalised. Her demands had been relayed via a solicitor—she wanted to see Darcy.

  Darcy had refused then. Eilidh’s court case was in full swing, and she was Darcy’s priority. There had been no question of Darcy abandoning her to satisfy another of Anja’s twisted cries for attention.

  Then Anja had attempted suicide.