The Girl Who Cried Wolf

by Bella James

  ‘I am so sorry,’ I cry. ‘I would never want to hurt Michael or upset him. I just saw the picture and he looks so much like you.’ I look over to his kind eyes and he tells me not to be upset.

  ‘Michael never got over the death of his little brother. They were very close and he rarely talks about him now, although we wish that he would. What happened was an accident, even I see that now.’

  ‘Did you once blame Michael?’

  ‘No,’ he says gently. ‘Although I did blame his mother for a while, and I shouldn’t have done that. Ben had autism, you see, he lived in a world of his own and we had to watch him very carefully. He was obsessed with water and there was a river flowing through our old ranch in Colorado. It was magnificent and very still on the surface, but strong currents ran underneath.’ He pauses for a second and Caroline places her hand over his. ‘Renée wasn’t watching him, he had run ahead on their walk, and by the time she reached him he had leaned over the bridge to far and fallen in. Renée couldn’t swim and the currents carried him down to the shallow pools before Michael could reach him.’

  I cry with them and wait only a few moments before I leave them and run to find Michael. He is standing by a railing to the first paddock, stroking a golden horse, his head rested against its neck. I am quite taken away by the horse’s beauty; her long mane and tail were shimmering under the moonlight.

  ‘Is this your Palomino?’ I ask, feeling the bond between them.

  He looks surprised to see me, as though he was lost somewhere in a dream and I had woken him up. ‘Yes, come and meet her. This is Blaze.’

  I gently hold out my hand and laugh as she breathes warm air over my freezing fingers. ‘Hello, Blaze. I used to have hair like yours.’ Michael and I both smile at the memory from our days in chemo and he puts his arm around me as I stroke her silky mane. ‘Do you think she’s warm enough?’ I ask him, although as I slip my fingers under the blanket around her I feel she is quite warm underneath. Michael just holds me tighter.

  ‘I was two when Benji was born. I can’t really remember much of him being a baby but when he started to walk, boy, did he follow me everywhere!’ Michael wipes a tear from his eye, and my heart breaks for him as I listen silently. ‘We knew he was different when he was really young, he didn’t like to be touched or cuddled too tightly and used to hate wearing clothes until one of my Aunties bought him Aquaman pyjamas for his fourth birthday. Then they were pretty much all he wanted to wear. I used to read him comic books about a superhero that lived underwater and could talk to sea creatures telepathically.’ He laughed, ‘When I say read, I mostly used to point at the pictures and make the stories up. Benji really loved them, but then he became obsessed with the river, believing he could dive and swim like Aquaman, so we had to faze him out.’

  ‘Faze him out?’

  ‘Yes, we had to gradually introduce new comics and characters but it took a long time to curb the obsession. I think Benji knew what we were doing so he went deeper inside himself; he never lost his fixation with deep water, although eventually he stopped making a fuss when we fenced off the river and never let him walk the ranch alone. He never talked much to begin with, but began to live in near silence as he grew older. The only things he couldn’t resist were trains and tractors, so we indulged him and communicated through the things he liked.’

  Michael is quiet for a few moments so I ask him tentatively, ‘Were you there when he fell into the water?’

  ‘I was riding on the ranch. It was three days before my tenth birthday so Benji would have been seven. My mom had taken a lame horse for a lead walk along the trail path to see if she was better and had taken Ben with her for some fresh air. I could see them from where I was riding a little further up the hill, and he stayed just a stone’s throw in front of her, looking up at the sky and then stopping to touch the ground. It was a funny habit of his. She only looked away for a couple of seconds. The mare was showing signs of discomfort and my mother bent down to check her front hoof. When she looked back up he was gone and she knew instinctively he had run to the little wooden bridge. I knew in a heartbeat as she screamed his name that he was already there, but I galloped towards them and dived into the river where the currents wane a little.’

  I know Michael is crying, and let him take comfort against Blaze’s solid neck as I have no idea how to console him.

  ‘He was already lying there, floating on the surface with his face down in the water. When he had jumped or fallen from the bridge the currents would have pulled him under. I knew these waters like no-one else, I knew where they looked calm and inviting but were ferocious underneath. I pulled him out and breathed in to his mouth the way my father had taught me, but his head was bleeding and I could tell he was gone. My mom just screamed and screamed, “Save him, Michael!” and I couldn’t.’

  ‘Michael, you were ten, no one could have expected you to save him.’ I pull him towards me despite his protests and stroke his back, now wracked with sobs. He tries to compose himself and tightens a loose buckle on the horse’s blanket.

  ‘My father found us like that, and went off at my mom for not watching him. I left them screaming at each other, thinking how Benji would have hated that. He liked quiet. She left the next day, and I haven’t seen her since.’

  ‘Michael. I am so sorry.’

  ‘It’s OK. This is why I don’t talk about it. It’s just too painful for me; he was too young to die and should still be here with us.’

  I truly hate myself for thinking that if his brother had not died, Michael would never have moved to England and I could have still been lost in a nightmare.

  ‘You saved me, though,’ is all I can tell him, and he presses his cold lips against mine for a moment.

  ***

  After only a few hours sleep, we wake up before dawn on New Year’s Day, sleepy-eyed and feeling that we are closer than ever. He looks at my scar with concern and suggests I go to see Mr Raj.

  ‘Are you crazy?’ I shout, louder than I intend and hastily soften my voice. ‘What I mean is, I don’t want to go back until I absolutely have to.’

  ‘Which is when?’

  ‘Two weeks’ time, I think. What are we doing today?’ I am anxious to change the subject.

  ‘I have a surprise for you. Get dressed. Something warm!’ He winks as he rushes downstairs and I know he is taking me riding. I am under strict instructions from my mother not to ride while I am here, and it is with a little guilt that I pull on my jeans and run to the bathroom to get ready.

  Michael is waiting by the stables, but instead of seeing two horses, he stands only with Blaze, who is unsaddled and wearing a simple bridle.

  I look at him disappointedly as he leads her to the mounting block and climbs up.

  ‘I’m not coming with you?’ I ask, and he smiles and shuffles backwards, tapping the little space in front of him. I laugh delightedly and am up in front of him in seconds, smiling as he places a firm arm around my waist and the other holds the reins. I feel a little unsteady without a comfortable saddle beneath me, and he tells me to hold on to her mane.

  We ride around the breath-taking grounds, magnificently highlighted by the orangey glow of the sunrise. We walk steadily along little trails, through silent woods and a shallow ford, and I cry out in delight to see a fox and a deer.

  ‘This is the best day of my life,’ I tell him and turn my head back to find his lips for a kiss. He pulls Blaze to a halt at the neck of the woods, which showcases the exploding sunrise and makes the white snow glisten like a fairy tale.

  ‘Did you like your Christmas present, Anna?’

  ‘Yes, of course.’ I stumble over the words and do not know why I’m nervous. ‘I’ve almost read all of it. I know the difference between Piebald and Skewbald; I know that an Appaloosa has unusual dappled markings over their hind-quarters …’

  My voice trails away as reaches around me and places a little box in my right hand.

  ‘What is this?’ I ask him unsteadily.

>   ‘That is your real Christmas present. Open it.’

  I slip off my gloves and open the little gold clasp to reveal a beautiful diamond ring, gleaming in the early morning sun light.

  ‘Marry me, Anna.’

  I pause for half a second before Blaze throws her head up and I shout out ‘Yes!’ and spin from my waist to throw my arms around him.

  Chapter Thirteen:

  Back to Black

  As we pull up outside Elm Tree a week later, I am thrilled to see Izzy, Freedom, and Mother shivering on the front step to greet us. They knew we were engaged, I had called as soon as we had stabled Blaze and run back to the ranch. It only disgruntled me a little to discover that Mother had already known as Michael had asked her permission when he could not make contact with my father. He was definitely suspicious that he had left again so suddenly, but seeing my expression had not pressed me for further information.

  ‘Congratulations to both of you!’ she cries and as we hurry towards them, we all hug and I hold on to my mother for a moment longer, as apart from eating more, one of my New Year’s Resolutions was to be a better daughter. There has been none of the expected exclamations that we were too young to be contemplating marriage and I loved her for that. My illness had taught me that time comes with no guarantee, and that I needed to live for now. She kisses the top of my head and ushers us into the house, which to my delight is decorated with banners and seemingly any other ‘Congratulations on your Engagement!’ paraphernalia they could find.

  I hug Izzy again and tell her she would have to help me plan the wedding, which we want to take place the following New Year. ‘I don’t want too many people, though,’ I say anxiously, shuddering at the thought of Jules and Eddie turning up drunk with all the rest of my old acquaintances. ‘But Izzy, you will be my bridesmaid, won’t you?’

  ‘Of course I will.’ She looks at me fondly then we both turn to look at our mother, sensing apprehension as we all consider how Father might fit into all this. Not at all, if I have my way.

  I take Michael’s hand and we sit by the fire. Mother brings cups of tea as we fuss over Freedom, who is looking decidedly different to the dog we rescued a few weeks ago. He has already gained a little weight, and has been lovingly groomed so his coat is shining. Even Lillian looks better; her air of sadness is gone and she has rosy cheeks from the long strolls they have taken together. I was thankful to hear her occasionally shorten his name to Fred or Freddie, and I latch on to this, feeling slightly relieved I may be saved from shouting ‘Freedom’ across the busy village common.

  ‘He is so well trained,’ Mother tells us proudly. ‘He runs straight back to me the second I call him, and he stops and sits next to busy roads.’ She rubs his ears affectionately. ‘You’re a little genius aren’t you, Fred?’

  I interrupt her loudly, feeling he had had enough attention for now, and tell them to look at my engagement ring.

  I am once again a little put out as Mother tells me Michael had already shown it to her when he asked for her blessing, but I do try to remember my three-day-old resolution and just smile sweetly as she goes on to tell me how stunning it is.

  ‘Where would like to get married?’ Izzy probably hopes it will be somewhere exotic.

  ‘In the village church, maybe.’ I look shyly at Michael. ‘Then perhaps a small gathering here or at the ranch, depending on where we are.’

  My mother has a worried look on her face so I try to reassure her. ‘Michael’s parents are going travelling in January next year. They’ve always wanted to, but needed to wait until Michael was completely recovered before they could leave him to manage Sunrise.’

  ‘I’ll be one hundred per cent this time next year,’ Michael continues as Mother looks progressively anxious, ‘so that will free them to live out their lifelong dream abroad without worrying about leaving me alone. They have asked Anna and I if we will take over the ranch after we’re married. Of course she’ll finish her A Levels first and I will show her the ropes, but she can travel between there and Elm Tree until it’s all settled. Lillian, it really is not that far – only forty-five minutes if the traffic’s good – and we shall expect to see you and Freedom every weekend!’

  I try to conceal my look of horror as Izzy giggles and Mother looks delighted.

  I climb up the stairs to my room, leaving them talking while I take a few moments to myself. As promised, I take off my wig and place it back on the stand Mother bought for me. Leaning forward in my dressing room mirror I see that the scar is still swollen and painful. I curse inwardly that it should have been enough to have a bloody brain tumour without this on top of everything. I remember Mr Raj prescribing me some healing cream, which I had not used as he told me it was only if the scar did not heal by itself. I rummage around in the drawers to find it as Izzy walks in.

  ‘What you lost?’ she asks me, plonking herself down on the bed.

  ‘My scar isn’t healing. Mr Raj gave me some cream and I can’t find it.’

  Izzy backs out the room and returns a few moments later with the little tube. ‘We may have borrowed it for Freedom,’ she tells me. ‘Mother was scared to take him to a vet about the cut above his eye in case someone had reported him missing. She called a vet instead and they said that cream was suitable as it is mildly antibacterial.’

  Should I have had to listen to her nervous ramblings a month ago about how our mother had stolen her daughter’s scar cream for a bloody dog, I could not have been held responsible for my actions. Now I sigh deeply and ask her, ‘Did it work?’

  ‘Oh yes!’ She sounds terribly relieved. ‘He healed up in no time, bless him.’ Her voice trails off as she sees my expression and she offers to help me.

  ‘You have to clean it with those sterile wipes first,’ she twitters on. ‘The vet told us to use those as well.’

  I frown crossly but say nothing as she puts on gloves and gently cleanses my scalp. I am reminded of Dr. Braby on the ward and suddenly feel incredibly tired. I absently listen to Izzy telling me off for wearing my wig and suddenly meet her eyes in the mirror.

  ‘I never thanked you.’

  ‘What for?’ she asks, looking confused.

  ‘The way you were when I was in hospital, it really got me through everything. Knowing that I had you … and Mother,’ I add, smiling.

  ‘We love you, Anna. It’s been hell for us too; worrying you might not get better. Honestly, if it hadn’t been for Michael, we would never have got through this. You have changed so much since you met him, you seem … happy.’

  ‘Despite everything?’ I say pointing to my bereft hair and ugly scar.

  ‘Despite everything,’ she says, and gives me a hug.

  ***

  Michael stays for as long as he can before heading home to help his parents. They had a party of twelve booked in for the fifteenth of January, so he had to return to contribute with the preparations.

  I mope around for a few days, but secretly I am exhausted trying to look good for him all the time. It is quite blissful not to bother with makeup for a little while and I am less self-conscious about not wearing my wig. Izzy is back to school so I spend my days mostly between Mother and long phone conversations with Michael.

  ‘How are you feeling today?’ he asks, as he always does.

  ‘I’m fine.’ I tell him, although for the last week or so this has not been entirely true. I’m still finding it difficult to eat despite having had my medicine doses reduced, and although I haven’t seen him since I was discharged, Mr Raj had told me my symptoms should gradually disappear. But I felt dizzy, my headaches have returned, and I am permanently tired. I had almost fallen last week when I had run up the stairs hearing my mobile ringing from my room, and had had to grab on to the bannister at the top, suddenly feeling I may pass out.

  This had happened a lot before my diagnosis, but I had been drinking and partying so much, I thought feeling dizzy was normal.

  ‘Anna, are you still there?’ Michael’s voice breaks through my r
everie.

  ‘Yes, I’m here. Are you still coming to my appointment next week?’

  ‘Of course I am, angel. January twenty-second, three-thirty.’ I smile at his American accent, which is prominent at more times than others, especially when he recites dates and times. I hear my mother calling for me so I roll my eyes and tell him I have to go.

  ‘What is the emergency?’ I ask her as I find them in the kitchen, Freedom her constant companion. I pat his head while she tells me dinner is ready, and I recoil as she lifts the pan lid and a wave of nausea hits me. I feel very hot at the back of my head and my mother tells me, ‘That is enough, Anna. You’ve looked wretched and wan for almost a week. I haven’t said anything thus far, but we need to bring your appointment with Mr Raj forward. I’m sorry, darling, but you should be feeling better and something isn’t right.’

  I sit at the breakfast bar and place my burning temples against the cool work surface. ‘It’s back, isn’t it?’ I ask without looking up. ‘They said it might come back and it’s back. Like the fucking Terminator.’

  ***

  Mr Raj agreed to see me earlier and booked a new appointment for the seventeenth. I sit nervously outside his room but this time I am not alone. Izzy and my mother are to the left of me, bickering about Izzy biting her nails. Michael is on my right, holding my hand, and Freedom is waiting in the car with a blanket. Mr Raj smiles as he sees us and pulls up a few extra chairs. I determinedly avoid the Alice in Wonderland chair he gestures me towards and he nods understandingly as I plonk myself on an uncomfortable plastic seat. It reminds me of the chairs from school and I suddenly think of an assistant whose chair we once pulled out from under her.

  ‘So, Anna.’ I try to read the consultant’s face but he stays neutral as always. ‘Thank you for undergoing more tests for me earlier. I trust they weren’t too unbearable?’ I hope to God he is not remembering my peek-a-boo bra.