by Suzy K Quinn
I could see the form of the cottage now, bulky and brown, under the waving branches of giant fir trees. It was a tumbledown place; little holes in the roof and metal boards on the windows. There was a metal door too, with a huge open padlock hanging off it.
‘Please, Michael.’ I shook my head, eyeing over the dark spots where roof tiles had skidded apart. ‘I can’t stay out here. It looks like a horror movie. What is this place, anyway?’
‘It’s the old farm cottage that came with the land,’ said Michael. ‘A beautiful little place. You know, the builders camped here while they were laying the foundations for the mansion. You’ll be fine. Stop being such a princess.’
‘Michael, please don’t make me—’
‘Listen.’ Michael lowered his voice. ‘Diane has pills with her. A whole bag full of pills. If we hadn’t have showed up this morning, she would have taken then. She was this close.’ He held up thumb and finger pinched together.
That changed things. Michael always knew how to pull my strings.
‘Okay,’ I said. ‘I didn’t know she was … okay. Okay, I get it.’
Michael nodded, placing a fatherly hand on my shoulder. ‘Now you understand why I have to play things a bit carefully. Baby steps. The candles and roses – all a bit of acting, but you’re grown-up enough to handle that, Lorna. I know you are. I wouldn’t be with you otherwise. Think of it like this. I’ve got a sick child to look after.’
I looked over the spooky, boarded-up cottage. ‘It’s scary out here.’
‘You’ll be fine.’ Michael led me into the building. ‘I’ll come out later with some blankets and food.’
The cottage was bare inside except for a mattress and bucket on the floor. The whole place smelt funny, like metal. One wall had angry axe marks in it.
‘I’ll come see you later,’ Michael whispered. ‘I’ll sneak out. Like Romeo and Juliet. Okay?’
‘Not okay.’
‘Watch yourself, Lorna. Don’t be spoiled or I’ll lock you in.’
I didn’t want to sit on the mattress, so I huddled up in the corner, hungry, cold and wide awake, listening to the night go on forever.
I guessed it was gone midnight when Michael came back, but I couldn’t be sure – time drags when you’re cold and uncomfortable.
Along with owl hoots and fox barks, I heard crunching footsteps and guessed they belonged to Michael. They were stumbling and out of rhythm.
‘Michael?’ I called out.
Suddenly the door flung open and I screamed and shrank back.
A heavy hand clamped on my mouth and I smelt whiskey. ‘Be quiet. Don’t make so much noise.’
I looked up into Michael’s bleary, bloodshot eyes. He climbed right on top of me, eyes glazed, then tugged at my jeans.
‘Michael.’ I turned my head and tried to push him away. ‘Stop. You’re drunk.’
But he didn’t. Instead, he pulled and yanked at my jeans until I was naked from the waist down, then climbed on top of me and banged away, bang, bang, bang.
He was a drunken dead weight and strong, but once he started I didn’t try to stop him. He was my boyfriend. We’d had sex many times before.
The sex wasn’t quick, and when Michael finally finished, he rolled off, stumbled out and slammed the metal door behind him.
I huddled back to my corner, heart pounding, confused, scared, not knowing what to do, say or think. It was cold – I knew that much. Michael hadn’t brought blankets. But it was too scary and dark out there to consider leaving the cottage. And even if I did make it to the house, who knew what Michael would do when he saw me?
I thought of Dee, and wondered what she was doing now. Working, probably. Looking after a bunch of middle graders. Tears came. If she knew her little sister was here, cold and alone in this abandoned cottage, she’d come and get me. I knew she would. She always fixed everything.
When I was little and Mom told me we couldn’t afford this or that, I’d say, ‘Dee Dee will get it for us.’ I thought my big sister, with her paper route and spare cash, had magical powers. She could always fix things my mother couldn’t. But even if Dee came to fetch me, I’d still be trapped. Because the cottage wasn’t the trap. My mind was the trap. That was something I’d have to fix all by myself.
Eventually, I fell asleep.
In the morning, I woke to sunlight and soft knocking at the cottage door.
I sat up tall, heart racing.
‘Lorna?’ It was Michael’s voice, gravelly and deep.
When I didn’t answer, the door flew open and Michael entered the cottage with a red rose in a skinny vase. He wore jeans and a T-shirt and was showered and shaven.
‘Why didn’t you come back into the house?’ Michael asked, eyes full of concern.
‘What?’
‘I told you to wait out here for an hour while I got rid of Diane, then come back inside. Why didn’t you?’
‘You never told me to come back inside. You said to stay out here. That you’d bring me blankets.’
‘I didn’t say that, honey. I said give me an hour to get rid of Diane, then come back in. Remember? I told you to listen for her car leaving.’ He put down the tray and gave me his big eyes. ‘Look, I’m sorry about yesterday. Forgive me. Let’s get back on track.’
‘Last night …’ I began.
‘Yeah, sorry I didn’t come get you,’ said Michael. ‘I thought you’d be sulking so I left you to it. Then I had a few too many drinks and crashed out. Talking to Diane tires me out. She just goes around in circles.’
‘No. You did come out here.’
Michael looked genuinely confused. ‘No, honey, I fell asleep in the house.’
‘You came here,’ I insisted.
‘Sweetheart, you must have been dreaming. Was it a good dream?’
‘No. It was a bad dream. A nightmare, actually. You were just disgusting.’
‘I hate to tell you this, sweetheart, but I think you’re getting confused between sleep and real life,’ said Michael. ‘You know how you make up stories sometimes. I passed out all night. I came nowhere near this cottage. You know how your mind can be. You’re not always in the real world, are you? After your mother neglecting you like that. And then the cancer. The treatment played havoc with you, didn’t it?’
It’s true, I thought. I’m not stable. I’m losing my mind. It was some weird dream. He fell asleep in the house and I made up the rest.
‘Well, you still left me alone all night,’ I said.
‘Sweetheart, I’m so sorry. I passed out. Swear to God.’
‘It was scary out here. And cold.’
‘Let me make it up to you. I can hardly help falling unconscious through tiredness, can I? Forgive me. Let’s not hold on to this. Listen, Diane’s gone now. She left last night. Let’s get everything back on track and I’ll make sure you’re the girl who gets steak today, okay?’
‘Diane left last night?’
‘Yeah.’ Michael rubbed his nose and forehead. ‘She’s not good. Not good at all. Still talking about suicide and all sorts. It scared me, to be honest. Here I am living with another woman, and she’s telling me she’d break into a million pieces if I ever left her.’ He kissed my head. ‘But my little Lorna wants me to tell Diane the truth, and the truth it shall be.’
‘You know, maybe you should hold off telling her about me,’ I said. ‘Until Diane’s better. I don’t want to be the cause of anything bad happening. And if she’s so fragile …’
‘But, princess, you don’t like all the sneaking around. Right?’
‘I don’t. But … I don’t want Diane to hurt herself. It’s fine. Like you say, a bit of acting might be needed. We know what we have.’
Michael gave me his earnest eyes then. ‘You are pretty much the perfect woman, do you know that? The perfect, understanding, considerate woman. And I am madly in love with you.’
I grinned reluctantly then, sun coming out from behind a cloud.
‘So what do you want to do today?’ Michae
l asked. ‘I need to make this up to you. We have the whole day together. Do you want to go out on the quad bike?’
‘You’d let me ride your bike?’
‘On one condition,’ said Michael, kissing my neck. ‘You take your clothes off while you’re doing it.’
I laughed. ‘I’ll do anything to ride that bike around.’
Michael made it sound like a fun game, but naked bike riding was just another control thing. If I was naked, I couldn’t go far. Like always, Michael made sure he had an invisible leash around my neck.
Michael took me back into the house and made me steak for breakfast, just like he promised. Then he gave me a ruby ring for my little finger and made beautiful love to me in his bed. Michael wasn’t anything like the man I’d imagined the night before. That man, I decided, was definitely some warped dream born of my creepy surroundings. This was my Michael – gentle and caring. It felt like when we first met and it was perfect.
After that, Michael took me into the woods and let me drive his bike around in my underwear. He brought a shotgun with him and pretended to aim it at me as I drove, saying he was practising his hunting skills.
‘It’s not loaded, is it?’ I called out, laughing and ducking as I drove past him.
After finding Diane at the house and the awful disconnected sex I’d dreamed the night before, I clung to Michael’s loving and attentive mood. Yesterday, I’d felt like a total interloper. Diane had the greater claim. Childhood sweetheart. Married. But today I was his princess. The love of his life.
Still, my brain hurt.
It was getting harder and harder to make the pieces fit together. The things Michael was saying didn’t match the things he was doing.
I knew it but chose not to see it.
I hate myself for that now. I hate myself for so many things I can never change.
Liberty
Skywalker barks and barks at the doorway. Poor little dude, he doesn’t like it when there’s someone between us.
‘What am I looking at?’ I ask Michael, peering into the chugging chest freezer. It glimmers with sugary delights – cherry and chocolate ice cream, Black Forest gateaux, a box of macarons in pastel colours, all bathed in acid-yellow freezer light.
Michael pulls out a clear bag of sliced cake. ‘This.’
‘Cake?’
‘Not just any cake. It’s birthday cake. Can you guess whose?’
‘Whose?’
‘Yours, Liberty.’
‘This is my birthday cake? But it’s not my birthday.’
‘I know. There’s are sixteen pieces in there. I held a little birthday party every year for you. Every single year. Sang you happy birthday, lit some candles. Thought about what you looked like and prayed and prayed we’d find you. Then I cut you cake and stored it in the freezer. I was so certain that one day you’d walk back into my life.’ Tears fall down Michael’s craggy cheeks. ‘And on that day, I wanted to show you I’d never forgotten you. Give you something of the life you’d missed out on. It was my way of doing something positive, you know? I couldn’t freeze time and stop you growing up without me. But I could freeze the cake.’
‘Wow.’ My lips feel swollen. Hot tears sting around my eyelashes.
‘I love you to infinity. You’re my darling daughter. I turned the world upside down looking.’
‘I can’t believe this is the first time I’m meeting you,’ I say, words cracking in my throat. ‘That my mother kept me away. She hates you so much.’
‘Lorna doesn’t hate me, Liberty,’ says Michael. ‘She loves me. That’s what all of this is about. She can’t stand that I stayed with Diane. Taking you was her revenge.’ Michael’s phone bleeps and he frowns at it. ‘Oh, look at that. Talk about timing. The first of the guests are at the gates.’
‘I hope my mother has gone,’ I say. ‘It would be so embarrassing if she’s still out there. While your guests are arriving. God.’ I put my head in my hands. ‘SO embarrassing.’
‘Don’t you worry about any of that,’ says Michael. ‘Diane will have sorted it.’
‘My mother will be going out of her mind, knowing I’m here.’
‘Can’t say I blame Lorna for worrying,’ says Michael. ‘There’s a lot she’s kept hidden from you. If I were her, I’d be crawling over hot coals to keep it all quiet.’
‘What has she kept hidden?’
‘We’ll talk about this some other time, Liberty. The guests are arriving. You don’t want to get into this with people turning up.’
‘I do,’ I say, taking a kitchen stool. ‘Mum has always been secretive. Not just about you. About lots of things. Medical reports. My birth certificate. All sorts of things. I know there’s more to this than just you supposedly being a bad guy.’
‘Yeah, you’re a smart girl,’ says Michael, taking a stool. His phone bleeps again. ‘Okay. This is Danny, my driver. He’s just let the first round of guests through the gate. Which means your mother has gone.’
‘Then you’d better tell me quickly.’
Michael laughs. ‘Okay. Well, I can tell you one thing. A good friend of mine will be here soon. Have you heard of Cat Cannon?’
I nod slowly. ‘The singer.’
‘And I take it, by the look on your face, that your mother has told you about Cat Cannon? And her daughter?’
‘No, but … I read articles about them. Cat Cannon supported one of your tours. And her daughter went missing shortly afterwards.’ I pause. ‘Her name was Annalise, right? The daughter?’
Michael nods.
‘My middle name is Annalise.’
‘That’s your middle name? Really?’
I nod.
‘I suppose it makes sense. Your mother would have something of a guilty conscience.’
‘Meaning?’
‘Forget I said that. That’s unsubstantiated. Listen – this I can tell you for sure. Those newspaper stories. The ones that accuse me of God knows what. They were your mother trying to ruin me. But she didn’t ruin me. All she ended up doing was tearing Cat’s heart out. Annalise might still be alive, for all anyone knows. Lucky for me, Cat saw through it all in the end. But it was touch and go. She hated me for a long time.’
‘So you’re still friends with Cat Cannon?’
‘Oh, yeah. She’ll be here any minute.’
‘But … it wasn’t just my mother throwing around accusations. Cat accused you of kidnapping her daughter too. I read the articles.’
‘She wasn’t in her right mind,’ says Michael. ‘And forgiveness is the mark of a strong person. It was a long time ago. Water under the bridge. Lorna was in Cat’s ear at her lowest moment, telling her all kinds of crazy shit. God, your mother caused some pain, I can tell you. And I’ll tell you something else. If anyone knows what happened to Annalise, it’s Lorna. Your mother saw that young girl as a rival. She wanted to be rid of her like she wanted rid of Diane. It wouldn’t surprise me if … Oh, forget it. Let’s not go down that road.’
I swallow. ‘You think my mother knows what happened to Annalise?’
‘I don’t know.’ Michael rubs at his forehead and eyes. ‘But I do believe Lorna knows a lot more than she’s letting on. Now isn’t the right time for all of this. We’re getting this party together and it’s a celebration, you coming home. Hey – you’re into music, aren’t you? You said you were in a band. You know, there’ll be a lot of industry bigwigs here today—’
‘My mother does that,’ I say. ‘Changes the subject.’
‘Well, look, it’s some pretty dark and heavy stuff we’re getting into,’ says Michael, standing. ‘I’m just saying … let’s park it for now and enjoy this magical moment. Father and daughter reunited. The party’s starting and there are a lot of people I want you to meet.’
‘But I want to talk about it now,’ I say. ‘That’s what I’m here for.’
Michael’s eyes turn serious. ‘We will talk, Liberty. When the time is right. But you’ve only just got here. I tell you the truth now, and you’re likely
to think I’m as crazy as Lorna. You need to get to know me first, at least a little bit. Meet my friends. See who I really am. Now, listen. About this band of yours. What’s it called?’
‘Skywalker.’ The word is reluctantly said as I take a kitchen stool. ‘After my dog. We’re sort of punk, new age meets rock and roll. A bit of everything.’
‘Sounds brilliant. Now, as your old man who also happens to be a rock star, I would like to meet this band of yours and see what I can do for you. How about that? You know, I’ve got a music studio out there in the woods. There’s a little cottage out there – I converted the place. It used to be the old farm cottage. How about you bring your band here and we record some of your stuff?’
I swing my DMs under the counter. ‘I mean … that sounds great. But how do you know we’re worth recording?’
Michael laughs. ‘You’re my daughter. Of course you’re worth recording. You’ll be ace. It runs in the family.’
‘I don’t know if I’m good. I just know I love performing and writing music.’
‘The music industry is a tough business,’ says Michael. ‘But if you really want your band to go places, I’ll help you all the way. Listen, stay for the party today. There’ll be music guys here. My producer. A couple of agents. Some real heavy dudes in the industry. I’ll introduce you around and start the wheels turning. Sound good?’
‘That’s like every teenager’s dream. Really? You’d do that?’
‘Of course. Anything for my little girl. So what do you do? Sing? Play guitar? What?’
‘I’m the singer. Well, singer-songwriter. And yes, I play guitar. Any instrument I can get my hands on really.’
‘Of course you do.’ Michael ruffles my bleached hair. ‘You’ve got the old Reyji Ray lyrical blood in your veins. Well, I’ll introduce you around today and see if we can start making some connections.’
I’m nodding and nodding. ‘Yes. Wow, yes definitely. Cool.’
‘And you write your own songs, do you?’
‘Totally. It’s what keeps me sane. When I’m stuck in my bedroom, writing songs is like my freedom. It’s like the only thing that’s mine. Everything else Mum controls.’