by Rina Kent
I tell myself I’ll go for a quick jog around the house with her, and then I’m going to hole myself up in my room and not come out until school tomorrow. It’s a win-win, the dog gets exercise and maybe I can get some sleep tonight.
The second I’m outside, I remember why I love it so much. The sun is almost gone now, leaving the sky beautiful shades of pink and orange.
I plug my earphones in and do a little stretch that will probably do fuck-all, but makes me feel more professional, and then we set off. I go faster than I should, trying to let Dollar run rather than just the stupid little fancy trot she has to do when I go at a comfortable speed.
I’m pushing myself, because I know it’s the best way to drown out the thoughts and the pain.
It’s hard to feel the weight in the pit of your stomach when your lungs are on fire and your head feels like it’s about to burst.
But I tire myself out quickly. It’s been too long since I’ve done this, and I make a mental note that I need to start doing this every night.
We’re far away from the house when I slow to a fast walking pace, but I’m not in a rush anymore. I like this part of the grounds. There’s a little stream that trickles over rocks and I remember coming here when I was little and imagining that it was a fairy glen.
That was before, when I still had dreams and imagined things.
It’s been a while since I’ve done that.
I sit myself down on a flat-topped boulder and watch Dollar while she sniffs around in the stream, occasionally picking up a pebble and throwing it in, seeing how big I can get the ripples to go.
What would it feel like to have dreams again, dreams that don’t revolve around getting on a ferry to Ireland and escaping a marriage to Tommy?
He said I was free to go. I have the money back. I could get in the car right now and go, but something tells me I don’t need to do that anymore. I don’t think he wants to go through with it anyway, and I suspect that he’ll find a way to make his father listen to him.
I can do anything I want now.
I remember when I wanted to be a vet, but I was young then. I didn’t really understand that for every animal you saved, you probably had to put one to sleep. I reckon I could watch people slip away easier than I could a dog.
So I rule that out.
I do like being outside, though. Without the restrictions of walls, free to roam, no pre-defined path from place to place that you have to use, because someone else decided where to put the doors. Maybe I’ll buy myself a camper van with the money and live the gypsy life for a while.
I chuckle to myself, and Dollar looks up from her spot across the bank at the noise. Maybe I should just take the time to get to know myself a bit better.
The sun has gone from the sky now and the last few traces of light are fading. I stand up from my rock and start jogging back to the house, shouting on Dollar who appears at my side almost instantly. This is why I love dogs, loyal as fuck to the very end.
I think about that while I jog home.
Loyal isn’t something I’ve ever been to anyone… but Tommy was loyal to me. Even when I stabbed him in the back. And just like that, a plan that isn’t even really a plan formulates in my head. It’s more of a feeling than it is a plan, but still, it’s there.
I don’t want to believe that the grass is greener. I want to be the type of person who sticks around when things are at their worst. I want to be someone who deserves loyalty and who gives it back in return.
I want Tommy back, and I’m going to make him see that it’s always been me and him. We weren’t fucked from the start; we just didn’t know what to do with each other. But we have something worth fighting for, and all the time in the world to learn.
Chapter Twenty-Three
TOMMY
I forgave her anyway, like I swore I wouldn’t do.
I don’t know what the fuck this thing is that she holds over me, but I know it makes me weak. She gets away with shit other people wouldn’t attempt, never mind live through. But, I understood what she was saying. She used prettier words but essentially: I was a cunt to her, she was a cunt to me.
We’re equal now.
And I would have stayed if I thought we could wipe the slate clean and start again.
But my mum had already phoned me on the way to Michelle’s house, ranting and raving and up to high doe. The police were already at the door to arrest me, and I told her I’d be home soon.
There would be no time to wipe the slate clean. There was just time to let her know that I’d done what she needed me to do, in more ways than one. I’d sorted out her mess and I’d given her the money back. She could go or she could stay, it didn’t matter. I wasn’t going to marry her anyway. Fuck reputation. Fuck my dad. Fuck the business.
I pull up outside my house and there’s a police car sitting in the courtyard, not even ten steps from the door. A woman in uniform stands outside the house staring at me, lucky if she’s 4 foot 10 stretched out.
I’m not going to be a prick though. I knew there was a chance this could happen.
“Tommy Heenan?”
“Aye.”
“I’m PC Kirby. Tommy Heenan, I’m arresting you on suspicion of breaking and entering, and of aggravated assault. You do not have to say anything. But it may harm your defense if you do not mention, when questioned, something which you later rely on in court. Anything you do say may be given in evidence.”
I nod my head to signal I understand and she walks over to the car, opening the back door for me. I sit silently on the way to the station, thinking about Michelle and wondering if she was worth it, knowing that I’d do the same again whether she was or she wasn’t.
They keep me in the station until the hearing, and since I got arrested on a weekend, I’m in the cells until Monday lunchtime. After an interview and 100 “no comments”, I’m going absolutely fucking crazy by the time they finally take me to the court.
They charge me with aggravated assault, to which my lawyer advises I plead not-guilty. He says we can shoot for a simple assault charge, what with it being self-defense. How it can be self-defense when I broke into Kieran’s house I do not know, but my dad trusts this lawyer so apparently I also have to trust the lawyer.
Then it turns out they’re not charging me with the breaking and entering, since there was no sign or evidence that I broke and entered. No valuables missing. No damage to the property.
We’re high school friends, and I came over to play Xbox and we had an argument which got out of hand.
My word against his.
So the lawyer tells me.
I get bailed until the trial anyway, so it turns out the lawyer is worth the insane amounts of money my dad is paying for him.
Not that my dad is happy about it.
I get Jody to pick me up from the court since my dad can’t stand the sight of me. I do intend to explain myself, and make up some bullshit excuse for how Kieran broke in and got a hold of the papers, and how I discovered all this, without bringing Michelle into it.
Hopefully, he’ll feel so indebted to me for saving the business that he’ll take the blow of me not marrying her easier. You never know with my dad, though.
“You look like shit.”
I stare at him, not even bothering with my seatbelt. “I need nicotine and caffeine and a wank. In that order.”
Jody chuckles, stopping at the set of lights while a thousand tourists cross the road in front of us. The court is in the middle of the nearest city, and the city is rife with them at this time of year. “You’ve not smoked in years you absolute dingle.”
I shrug. I’m feeling extra nicotiney today. “Stop at the garage for snouts and then we’ll go for a drive-through.”
“Aye, alright. We’ll go to that one at Cameron Toll. Took a wee bird there on Friday night and she had this toffee spice latte thing, it was fucking sexual.”
I look over at him and see that he is actually deadly serious. “You disgust me sometimes, do you know
that?”
He laughs at my reaction and then we fall into an easy silence as he crawls along the town’s packed streets.
“Michelle was asking for you today at school.”
I nod once in response, since it was a statement and not a question. I see him in the corner of my eye, looking over at my expression while he makes sure he doesn’t ram into the rear of the car in front. “What are you going to do?”
“Nothing,” I tell him.
“She looked pretty upset.” I can tell by the tone of his voice that he’s struggling. We’ve never had a talk concerning girls before that didn’t center around how they were in the bedroom. Scratch that, bedroom skills and now apparently how they drink their fucking lattes is also on the allowed list. Feelings, however, are not.
“Don’t let her fool you. She’s a canny wee actress is my Michelle.” I look out the window and pretend I’m not bothered, even though I am.
I don’t believe she was acting when I gave her the money back… but then again, that’s the only time I know she’s not been double-crossing me. And I only know she wasn’t double-crossing me because I left the money on the chair.
Essentially, I don’t trust her. She probably doesn’t trust me either, and that’s fine. But trust is important to me, because I believe that’s what love is built on. That’s what love is. It’s watching your heart walk around outside of your body, and trusting that the person isn’t going to throw it away.
I tried that with Michelle. I didn’t give her my heart, but I did give her something. A small piece of me that no one gets to see.
She didn’t like it enough to stay.
She didn’t even know what she was running too, but it was still better than staying with me.
“You still called her my Michelle, though. Like you did when we were kids. My Shelly.”
I laugh at him, because he tried to put on a high-pitched voice. I was like ten, my voice hadn’t broken yet, but I didn’t sound like a fucking Jessie.
“Fuck off. That was once at that party. And that was before I even had my first wet dream for fuck's sake.” I’m still laughing but I can’t help getting defensive.
I did think she was mine back then and maybe I called her that more than once. It wasn’t anything sinister, more like if you had a sister or a cousin, you’d fight tooth and nail with them but if anyone else touched them, shit got real. Ryan told the group he liked the way she kicked a ball at a barbecue and shit had to get real. Shelly was mine.
“I’m just saying, Tommy. I told her they arrested you and she looked sad, alright? Like she cared. Anyway, are you going in or am I?”
“I’ll go, you sit on your lazy arse.” I slide out of the car and realize that since I didn’t have my wallet when I got lifted, I don’t have it on me now. “Want anything?”
He’s already tapping away on his phone, probably texting the wee toffee spice latte from the weekend. “I’m good mate.”
“Aye well, I’ve no wallet, so lend me a score and I’ll buy you a chocolate bar.”
He looks up from his phone, retrieves his wallet from the door-side and throws me it while he chuckles. “Knock yourself out, mate.”
Chapter Twenty-Four
MICHELLE
My phone vibrates and although my heart flutters for a tiny second, I quickly remember it can’t be him. As much as I wanted to hope for a second, I know I’m just torturing myself. You can’t send texts from a prison cell.
It’s a messenger request. I slide open my phone to unlock it and open up the app, trying to remember where the bastard request folder is.
Jody Dillon
He got bail. Dropping him off soon…
He’s out? I heard he’d broken Kieran’s nose and fractured his ribs. I wasn’t expecting him to get out. The flutters in my chest come back. I don’t know what the fuck I’m going to do, but at least now I know there is hope.
I jump up from my bed. I was about to go for a jog with Dollar… I’m wearing a track suit and a sports bra. My hair looks like shit. I’ve no makeup on, but I don’t have time to fix it. I think my best shot is to already be there when he gets home, then he can ask me to leave, but he can’t refuse to see me if I’m already there.
I grab my car keys and head to the car.
The drive to Tommy’s house feels like it takes forever, and I get stopped at every junction and pedestrian crossing on the way. It’s raining, not heavy… the type of misty rain that soaks you without you even knowing it.
I park the car outside his house and stew for a minute… should I wait out here? Should I have the housekeeper let me in and go straight to his room? What if he doesn’t want to see me and he avoids his room?
I get out of the car, cursing the bastard rain, and sit my arse down on his doorstep. And I wait, with my elbows resting on my knees and my chin resting on my hands.
I wait some more.
And some more.
My arms are covered in goosebumps and I’m shivering when I finally see Jody’s red Audi A3 roll up the drive.
The fluttering in my heart has ramped up tenfold, to the point it’s almost nauseating. I hope he doesn’t just walk straight passed me, without even a glance. That would be the worst thing he could do. The car stops beside my car and his door opens. He hesitates for a second, leaning in while he talks to Jody and I stand up.
When he finally slams the door and our eyes lock, the flutters are absolutely fucking shock waves at this point. I want to run into his arms but I can’t. I couldn’t take that rejection.
So instead I stand there, arms clasped in front of me, wishing that he would say something first.
“You look like shit,” he says, and my heart soars. Probably correct. I’m soaking wet, and my eyes are puffy from the lack of sleep and… other things that make your eyes puffy.
“So do you,” I tell him.
He smiles faintly and starts walking towards me while Jody reverses the car. “I’ve been sat in a cell all weekend, what’s your excuse?”
I swallow, smiling faintly at him, too. “I don’t need one.”
He reaches the steps and stands in front of me, hands in his pockets, his stance casual. “What you doing here, Michelle?”
There’s so much I could say… but I’m a pussy, so I shrug. “I missed you.”
His smile grows now, his eyes going soft. “I missed you, too.”
I don’t know what to say now. The silence stretches out and I don’t know what to do, except watch him. I’ve already said everything there is to say to him. I am sorry, but I think he should be sorry too.
Maybe I’m too stubborn, too proud, and maybe that was always my problem. But I can’t change that. I don’t know how to.
“What do we do now?” I ask him. It seems like the only logical thing to say, and I hope he knows what I mean. The wedding is booked. Nothing has changed, except the way I’m going to deal with it. He gave me my money but I’m not going to run.
I’m tired of running.
Do I want to marry him, though? Not really. Not now. Maybe one day, but not right now. We’re at a stalemate, and it’s killing me.
He looks down at me. “Well, since you’re still here, I’m going to assume you’ve decided to stay.”
I nod my head, averting my eyes. I’m staying, and if that means I have to go through with it then… I’ll just need to deal with it like a grownup.
“That’s good…” he tells me. “But I’m not.”
I was looking at some spot on the stone column behind him, but now I’m looking right at his face. What?
“My lawyer says I’m definitely going away,” he explains. “The trial is next Thursday.”
I swallow, clearing the lump from my throat. “How long?”
He shrugs, looking up at his front door. “Who knows? But either way, there won’t be a wedding.”
This was what I wanted. I should be elated. But I feel like I’ve been knifed right in the stomach.
He’s going, and no one knows how l
ong he’ll be gone. I want to tell him that I’ll wait for him. I’ll visit him and I’ll write to him every day. But he hasn’t asked me to do that and I can’t be sure if he even wants me to.
I wish we could go back, back to when he made me feel like the most wanted woman in the world. Back to that night when he whispered in my ear that he only ever wanted me.
Then he turns and opens his front door, hesitating for a second while he looks back at me. “You coming in?”
I pause while he watches me. Of course I’m coming in. I get the feeling that if I ran to his arms now, maybe he wouldn’t reject me. He didn’t ask me to wait for him, or visit him… but he’s asking me to come in, and that’s a start, right?
Maybe that’s what we need. No promises. No vows. No weddings and letters and waiting.
Maybe we just need to go back to the start.
I go to him and he drops the handle, holding me close before lifting me up. I wrap my legs around his waist while my arms snake around his neck. I give him my answer with my kiss, and he gives me his answer with his.
My Tommy. My bastard bully. The boy who hated me, because I hated him… and the man who saved me, in more ways than one. I don’t know much about love between a man and a woman. At my age, I don’t think I need to. The love we have now won’t be the love we have in five years, or ten years, or fifty years. All I know is that I trust Tommy, and I’m ready to work every day to prove that I’m a person worth trusting, too. And that won’t be difficult, because I’m done running. Why?
Because I choose him.
I’ll choose him again and again. Even when it’s hard. Even when the grass looks greener.
I’ll choose him. And what is that, if not the definition of love?
Chapter Twenty-Five
MICHELLE
Sixty days.
That was his sentence for what ended up being an assault charge, but he got out after 30 days since it was a first offense and his behavior was deemed good by his parole officer. I would have strung him up by his balls had his behavior been anything less than stellar.
