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Rooting for You!

Page 8

by Bella Osborne


  Hudson stepped inside the door and surveyed the room. He wasn’t sure why he was here. There had been something in Anna’s voice when she’d phoned and now she wouldn’t answer his calls. He’d then acted spontaneously and done what had seemed perfectly logical at the time and got a plane to Heathrow. But now, as he surveyed the remains of a family party, he was no longer sure. A smart-looking man was leaning on crutches. He made his way over and offered his hand in greeting. ‘I’m Terry.’

  ‘Actually, sir, I don’t mean to be rude, but is Anna here?’ Hudson gave another cursory glance over Terry’s shoulder.

  ‘You’ve just missed her. She’s gone home with her boyfriend.’

  ‘Connor?’

  ‘That’s the fella.’

  Hudson pulled back his shoulders. This was the reality he was facing. ‘Right. Then I’m sorry to have troubled you. And happy anniversary, sir.’ Hudson turned to leave.

  ‘She was a bit worse for wear. You know how it is at parties.’

  Hudson halted and spun around. ‘You mean she’d been drinking?’

  Terry guffawed. ‘Had she. Plastered she was. She could barely walk. But she’s not used to it you see, she—’

  Hudson’s face was creased with anxiety. ‘Where did he take her?’

  ‘Home to bed I shouldn’t wonder …’ Hudson didn’t wait to hear the end of the sentence.

  Anna was aware she was going up some steps and Connor was supporting her. ‘Come on. Walk!’

  Anna came to as an icy wind hit her in the face. Her whole body shook with the sudden chill engulfing her. She was still groggy and focusing was difficult. Where was she? She licked her dry lips. ‘What have you done?’ Her voice was slurred and barely a whisper.

  Connor snorted a laugh but it dropped away. His eyes seemed dark and she instantly felt afraid of him. ‘What have I done? What have I done? What have you done, Anna? What did you do ten years ago?’

  Anna’s head hurt. Her thoughts were muddled. It was like living a dream; she didn’t feel conscious and yet she was.

  ‘Let me remind you. You were at university.’ Anna’s eyes widened in alarm. ‘But you know that, don’t you? Just like you knew Esme …’

  Anna nodded and tried to focus. Fear was wrapping itself around her and squeezing out her breath. ‘Yes.’ There was asphalt underfoot and the tips of the trees were level with her. Her brain tried to make sense of it. She was on a roof.

  ‘She was my sister.’ Connor stepped back a fraction and watched her.

  This was the mother of all coincidences. Fear gripped her guts and hung on tight. ‘How did you—’ She was trying to say: ‘How did you discover the connection between me and your sister?’ but there was no way she could coherently form all those words out loud.

  ‘How did I find you?’ sneered Connor. ‘How could you be so stupid? You really believed that a mobile phone engineer managed to get the wrong number … TWICE?’

  The reality of the person she was dealing with hit her like a physical blow to her stomach. She didn’t know this man at all. ‘Connor, you’re scaring me.’

  ‘Good. You deserve to be scared. You’re the reason my sister is dead!’

  Connor gripped her arms tightly, making them hurt, and marched her backwards but her feet wouldn’t move quickly enough and she lost a heel. He slammed her against the door they’d come through and she heard it click shut.

  Anna had so much she wanted to say but forming words was hard. She shook her head firmly. ‘No.’ She was confused. Esme didn’t die. Connor seemed to note her expression.

  ‘Esme’s dead. Didn’t you know?’ Anna shook her head again. She was going to say sorry but decided it might infuriate him further. ‘My mother, who, by the way, was a raging alcoholic because of what you did …’ he leaned in close and she could feel the tiny specks of saliva on her cheek as he spoke ‘… she switched off the machine. She let Esme die. She was no better than you.’

  Anna had loads of questions but she knew that getting away from Connor was the most important thing she had to do at this moment. She tried to look about her but it was dark. Then she spotted something familiar. She could see the park gates. Just the tips of them. She got an odd sense of relief to know she was on the roof of the flats. Although being four floors up on a December night when your brain was no longer able to function properly was not a good place to be. ‘Connor. I wasn’t there when it happened. I—’

  ‘Shut up!’ he hissed in her face. ‘Don’t lie, Anna. I found her diary. It told me everything I needed to know. She worshipped you. She idolised you. She was in love with you. And you lured her to the party and to her death.’

  Anna was shaking her head but part of what he said was true. Esme was in love with Anna, a fact Anna had found out when Esme had consumed enough Dutch courage to fill an Amsterdam canal and declared it in front of everyone. Anna was young and embarrassed and had tried to laugh it off. When Esme had persisted, Anna had told her firmly that she was straight and had no feelings for her at all. Truth was, she had liked Esme, but not in the way she had wanted. To Anna, Esme had become like a sister. She reminded her of her own sister, Lynsey, and she’d often wondered if Lynsey would have grown up to be like Esme. Anna had felt the closeness of the relationship but not spotted the dangers.

  Anna had spent the rest of the party drinking and ignoring Esme until she passed out in her bedroom. From what others had told her, Esme had carried on drinking and on a dare had decided to show off her gymnastic skills by doing a handstand on the balcony railing. The accounts of exactly what happened next were conflicting. Some said she wobbled, some said she relaxed her grip. Whatever happened, Esme went head first over the railing and shouted Anna’s name as she fell.

  ‘I was asleep when she fell.’ It was a struggle to form the words but she had to make him understand.

  ‘She trusted you. She loved you. She’s dead because of you!’ His voice rose to a shout and Anna hoped someone might hear and come to help her but she knew it was unlikely: the wind was whistling around them and the flats weren’t close to the street.

  ‘No. I liked Esme.’ She took in lungfuls of cold air in an attempt to kick-start her foggy brain.

  Connor’s eye twitched and Anna felt a renewed sense of dread. ‘You let her fall,’ he hissed. Anna shook her head. She took in a gulp of air and the icy blast burned her lungs. He dragged her away from the door and she gripped the handle, trying to scream as her fingers were ripped away.

  ‘Why now?’ asked Anna, trying to buy some time. She dug her remaining heel in as he pulled her towards the edge. Through the darkness she could see the outline of the tallest trees in the park.

  ‘Because you deserve to suffer like Esme did and it takes time to properly destroy things, especially people. I’ve been sending you little reminders of your old university, so you wouldn’t forget. Why should you be able to move on? I wanted you to lose everything. I know everything about you, Anna. I’ve been tracking your phone. I know where you go and who you see. I’ve been gaining your trust so I could tear your world apart. But despite my best efforts your parents somehow managed to survive the car crash.’ He looked disappointed.

  ‘No!’ Anna’s eyes widened in alarm and she started to fight. Her limbs were useless against his firm hold and she tired quickly. They were very near the edge. Anna tried to brace her foot against a small ridge but Connor kicked at her shin and pushed her a step closer.

  ‘My whole life revolved around hospital visits. Test after test. Disappointment after disappointment. All the while watching my mother slide into depression and alcoholism until she could take it no more and, without telling me, she switched off the life support. But she’s not responsible for Esme’s death.’ He leaned in to her face and prodded her hard in the chest with each word. ‘You. Are.’ The words were like shards of ice in her stomach. She stepped back and felt she was at the very edge of the building. There was nothing but air between her and the concrete below. ‘Look down, Anna. Are you scared? I
want you to be as scared as Esme was that night.’

  This was it. She was going to die. She clung to his jacket. ‘Connor. Don’t,’ she pleaded. Searching his face for some reassurance. She filled her lungs and with all her might she forced herself to scream.

  Connor shook her and she toppled. But instead of falling backwards she was being pushed towards Connor. It took her a moment to work out what was going on. Someone had come up behind her and pushed her. How? She was four floors up. She seized the opportunity and lashed out at Connor. He retaliated and seemed to pirouette, catching his foot on the ridge. His expression changed as he teetered on the edge. Anna was falling. They were going over the edge together.

  A single thought seized her attention: she couldn’t let this happen again. She’d missed her opportunity to save Esme, but she wasn’t about to let Connor fall too. She hung on to Connor’s jacket and twisted her body away from the edge. In what felt like slow motion, both she and Connor fell to the floor. Her head smacked on the concrete ridge of the roof. The pain blossomed across her forehead. She was safe and so was Connor. The cold asphalt was rough against her palms as she tried to get up. A strong arm snaked round her waist. ‘I got you, Anna. I got you,’ said a familiar voice, but the words were drifting into the night. Darkness was closing in, until everything went black and silence engulfed her.

  Chapter Thirty-Nine

  Anna had spent a night in hospital and then another couple with her parents, and whilst it was lovely to be cossetted and cared for, two days was enough. Part of her was already starting to worry that if she didn’t leave soon she would struggle to ever go back. But she needn’t have worried. Mrs Nowakowski had been there to welcome her home and tell her she’d started up a Neighbourhood Watch. Anna told her she couldn’t think of anyone better for the job, which had seemed to please her. She was also full of apologies because she’d been out on Saturday night.

  It amazed Anna how she had completely lost about twelve hours of her life. The doctors said it was very common and the memories of that night would likely never return thanks to the effects of the tranquilliser Connor had sneaked into her drink. Her parents had told her many times this was for the best but a part of Anna wanted to know what had happened up on the roof.

  All she did know was Liam had turned up and not being able to get an answer from her flat he’d panicked and gone and woken Sophie. By the time he’d roused her the emergency services had arrived and they’d found Anna and Connor unconscious on the roof.

  She had only been home long enough for her mother to make her a cup of tea when Sophie was knocking at the door.

  ‘Wholly crab, look at the state of you,’ said Sophie, pointing at the large colourful bruise on her right temple although Anna could see she was fighting back tears.

  ‘Thanks, mate. You should see the other guy.’

  ‘The son of a bishop. If I could get my hands on him, I’d knit his intestines into a tank top.’

  ‘A tank top?’ queried Anna, with a chuckle.

  ‘Because nobody flatters a tank top.’ Sophie wrapped Anna in a protective hug and squeezed her tightly. ‘Are you really all right?’ Sophie let her go and sat on the sofa opposite.

  ‘Fine. I just can’t remember anything after you left the party.’ She noted Sophie’s worried expression. ‘It’s okay, I know Connor nearly pushed me off the roof. I can’t understand why he took so long before he did it.’

  ‘Don’t try and work it out, Anna. He’s a total nut job.’

  ‘I do pick ’em, don’t I?’

  ‘You didn’t pick him, Anna. He targeted you. You mustn’t assume everyone is a psycho who’s out to get you. He spent ages tracking you down. Even renting somewhere in the area and staging the whole misdirected text message. That’s what it said in the paper.’

  She knew Connor was under arrest and not going anywhere any time soon. And whilst she knew she would have been terrified on the roof, the fact she couldn’t actually remember it was most likely playing a part in her recovery. More than anything she felt incredibly lucky to be alive.

  ‘I’m glad you’re home. I’ve some flowers at my house for you from Liam.’

  ‘I know,’ said Anna. ‘He keeps calling. I’m not ready to see him yet.’

  Sophie pulled a face. ‘I was meant to tell you ages ago.’ Anna lowered her head expectantly. ‘He owned up to only recommending they bring New York in to the scope of your project so they would relocate Hudson out there. He was deliberately trying to split you two up.’

  ‘What a shit,’ said Anna. Images of Hudson came into her mind. Muddled images.

  ‘I let Hudson know what happened. I didn’t want him finding out from work. I hope that was okay?’

  ‘I messaged him too but I’ve not had a reply.’ Anna had sent a couple of messages from hospital but had no response. He was no longer part of her life and she needed to accept it.

  Anna ventured out in public for the first time the next morning, and it felt good to be back in control of things. Roberta had been uncharacteristically sympathetic, had reeled off a number of inspirational feminist quotes and insisted Anna didn’t rush back. Sophie hadn’t had to twist her arm much to get Anna to Arlo’s nativity. Anna always missed things he did at school so it was a great opportunity to go while she was still officially off work.

  It appeared every other parent had had the idea of getting to the nativity early for a good seat, which relegated them to two-thirds of the way back but they managed to get seats on the end of a row where Sophie could park the double buggy next to her.

  ‘Save a seat for Dave,’ said Sophie. Anna couldn’t help her surprised expression. ‘He’s going to try and make it.’

  ‘Wow. He really has changed,’ said Anna. Sophie gave a proud smile whilst Anna stuffed her scarf into her woolly hat and plopped them on the chair next to her.

  The school hall was noisy and it filled up fast. The head teacher took to the stage to welcome everyone and the room fell silent while he went on about the meaning of Christmas and the hours of rehearsing the children had done. The hall was full to bursting; people were standing at the back. Every seat was filled with a mum, dad, doting grandparent or important person who was there to witness one of life’s milestones. It made her feel honoured and at the same time a little broody.

  Anna tuned back in when the lights dimmed and music boomed from the state-of-the-art sound system; gone were the days of an old lady on the piano. The doors opened a crack and Dave slipped inside, scanning the room. Anna and Sophie gave him a subtle wave and Petal squealed when she caught sight of him and stretched her arms out as far as they would go. Dave spotted them, slunk over and kissed Petal and Sophie. Anna noted Sophie didn’t have a go at him for being late. Anna moved into the vacant seat and Dave sat next to Sophie. ‘Hiya,’ he whispered to Anna. ‘Nice to have you back.’

  The nativity got under way and every heart in the room melted a fraction when the children sang ‘Little Donkey’ despite Joseph flashing his Octonauts pants all the way through it. Anna could sense Sophie getting nervous as Arlo’s big stage debut neared. The shepherds filtered on to the stage or more accurately a number of children wearing pillowcases with checked tea towels on their heads. The stage lighting went to full and the angels appeared, one of whom was picking his nose.

  Sophie leaned forward to whisper to Anna. ‘The nose picker of Nazareth is Willoughby Newell.’ Anna wasn’t surprised.

  Back in the stable Mary had given birth to Jesus who she promptly dropped and in her haste to gather him up Mary kicked him across the stage. An impromptu rugby scrum broke out amongst the shepherds and a teacher had to intervene to recover the doll and return him to a wobbly-lipped Mary who slam-dunked him face down into the manger. Dave started to chuckle and Sophie gave him a dig in the ribs.

  At last the three wise men arrived, bearing their gifts for the baby Jesus. While they sang ‘We Three Kings’ the first one unwrapped his gift and declared: ‘It’s not gold it’s an empty Maltesers bo
x.’ But he delivered it to Jesus all the same. The narrator announced that the next gift was frankincense. And Arlo marched forward and proudly presented the baby with a pineapple. Anna leaned forward to catch Sophie’s eye.

  ‘What?’ hissed Sophie. ‘I didn’t know what it was for. They said he needed to bring in something exotic.’ She wiped away a proud tear and blew her nose.

  It was all coming to an end and had gone incredibly well until a fight broke out when the donkey tried to take Willoughby Newell’s halo. Arlo waded in, snatched back the halo, returned it to Willoughby and with one shove the donkey toppled and landed on the manger, crushing baby Jesus. The curtains were hastily closed and the audience burst into applause. Anna and Dave were on their feet applauding. It was the funniest thing she’d seen in ages and exactly the tonic she needed.

  A week later Anna was facing a new challenge – Christmas shopping without a plan. Thanks to New York, her parents’ accident and what her parents now referred to as ‘that night’ she hadn’t even looked at a Christmas gift guide or prepared her usual spreadsheet of possible presents for family and friends. Here she was four days before Christmas engulfed in shopping madness.

  Birmingham city centre was full of festive cheer with the traditional Christmas market snaking all the way from the Bull Ring along New Street and around Victoria Square. As dusk fell the Christmas lights sparkled and the mulled wine flowed. Anna had already been back to her car once to deposit full bags. She was determined to get most of it done today. She still had to wrap it all, although that was a part of Christmas she loved – her parcels always had twirly ribbon and bows and matching tags. Anna felt her phone vibrate, readjusted her many carrier bags and hoiked the phone from her pocket.

 

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