Don't Turn Around

by Amanda Brooke

  ‘You don’t need to stay back tonight,’ he tells Ruth. ‘Jen’s told you before she can manage on her own.’

  My annoyance at Geoff immediately thaws. I haven’t lost hope that Ellie will ring tonight. She can’t want our last conversation to consist of the words Lewis put in her mouth and this will be our last opportunity to make peace with each other. I’m going to have to make every word count and I’d feel less pressured if Ruth wasn’t there.

  ‘I am not changing my plans, Geoff,’ Ruth tells him. ‘It’s our last week on the helpline.’

  ‘But isn’t that the point? You’ll only be passing the callers on to someone else, and I don’t know about you, but I didn’t like the sound of Oscar’s conversation. I’d rather you were with me.’

  ‘You managed to sell Oscar the idea long before you included me in your plans,’ she reminds him. ‘I’m sure you’re more than capable of closing the deal without me too.’

  ‘We could put it back to next week, I suppose.’

  ‘No, you were the one in such a hurry to get things moving and if Oscar has problems back at the ranch, you need to find out what they are pretty sharpish,’ Ruth snaps back at him. Catching me backing away again, she adds, ‘I am not going to miss your last shift, Jen.’

  I’m not the only one hoping for one last chance with Ellie.

  As five o’clock approaches, it’s time to move over to the helpline pods, but I make myself a coffee first. I’m hoping Ruth will stay in her office until Geoff leaves to meet Oscar but when I return from the kitchen, she’s already commandeered the first pod.

  ‘You’re eager.’

  ‘You don’t mind, do you?’ she asks as I slump into the chair opposite.

  I want to be mad at her but I can’t. ‘The helpline was your baby. It’s only fair that you take the last calls.’

  Ruth’s quiet for a moment. ‘I suppose it has been my baby, not that it was a replacement for Meg,’ she adds quickly as if countering an argument she would never hear from me. ‘But it did make me feel like she was still a part of our lives. I can’t believe I’m letting it go.’

  ‘Me neither.’

  The office chatter floats around us as we still our thoughts. The digital clock on my computer screen appears stuck on 16:59, and when it does change, my eyes dart to the phone. I don’t know why, because it’s Ruth’s phone that will ring first, and what then? What if the first call is from Ellie? What if she hangs up? Will that be it?

  ‘I think she’s going to ring tonight,’ Ruth says, her thoughts turning in the same circles as mine.

  ‘So do I.’

  ‘I thought Lewis would have showed his hand by now.’

  ‘I’m worried there’s a reason he hasn’t.’

  Ruth closes her eyes. ‘I keep thinking about the awful things he did to Meg. That’s going to haunt me forever, more so if the helpline closes and we never find out if Ellie does manage to catch that flight on Saturday. She has to phone.’

  ‘If she does, will you pass the call to me, Ruth? This is our last chance to get it right.’

  ‘I’m not sure I know what right looks like any more,’ Ruth replies. ‘After visiting Gemma last night, the only thing I can tell you is what wrong looks like. Her injuries are life-altering and time alone will tell how she deals with it all.’

  Unlike Ruth, I haven’t been asked along to visit Gemma since she regained consciousness, and I’m not sure I’d want to go. I’ll never know if she would have fared better if I hadn’t hung up on her that night, but my guilt isn’t the only reason I keep away. I don’t want to see what happens when you upset someone who knows how to hurt women.

  I cover my face with my hands. ‘Oh, God, I can’t bear this.’

  My head jerks up when the phone on Ruth’s desk rings. Our eyes lock as she puts the receiver to her ear and greets the caller with a trembling voice. In the pause that follows, we both hold our breath.

  ‘Oh, hello. How lovely to hear from you again,’ Ruth says.

  My relief lasts until my gaze settles on the silent phone on my desk. Lulled by the sound of Ruth’s chatter, I picture Ellie in her apartment staring at her mobile. As I will her to reach out and dial the helpline, someone whispers in my ear and I jump out of my skin.

  ‘I’m off to meet Oscar,’ Geoff says.

  I slow my breathing and offer a smile. ‘OK, have a nice time.’

  He puts a hand on my shoulder and squeezes. ‘I hope tonight goes well,’ he says, the smell of whiskey on his breath. ‘Could you tell Ruth to phone me after the shift?’

  ‘Will do.’

  When he leaves, Geoff doesn’t look like a man about to close a lucrative deal to bankroll a comfortable retirement. His trench coat hangs from his arm and the belt trails along the floor. Is he expecting the deal to fall through? Have Ruth and Geoff been too hasty putting their house on the market and closing down the helpline? Before I can consider the answers, the phone rings.

  It’s one of our regulars, a woman who has left her boyfriend several times before. I hope this time will be the last, but I realise I’m never going to find out. I spend most of the call giving her the numbers of alternative helplines and assuring her that she will find new people to support her. My words are choked when we say goodbye and as I replace the receiver, I notice Ruth watching me. She’s finished her call too.

  ‘I can’t believe how emotional I’m getting,’ I tell her. ‘And if Ellie doesn’t ring, I’m going to be in bits come eight o’clock.’

  Tears well in Ruth’s eyes. ‘I am doing the right thing, aren’t I?’

  I recall Geoff’s slumped shoulders as he left the office. ‘However things turn out, you’ll make the best of it,’ I tell her. ‘You always do.’

  ‘I’m not as strong as you think I am.’

  ‘No, but you’re as strong as you have to be.’

  ‘It would be nice not to be tested quite so often,’ she says with a rueful smile. She sighs loudly then stands up. ‘I’ve been thinking about what you said. This may very well be our last chance to talk to Ellie and as much as I would love it to be me she speaks to, it should be you. It can only be you.’

  Ruth takes longer than I to settle after we swap places. I watch as she leans to the side and there’s a hiss as she pulls the lever to raise her chair, giving herself a better view over the privacy screen. ‘You could put her on speakerphone if she does call,’ she suggests.

  ‘I won’t break her trust again, Ruth.’

  ‘I know.’

  Our wait for Ellie’s call resumes and it isn’t long before the familiar trill of the phone sets our hearts racing.

  ‘If it’s not Ellie, transfer the call to me, Jen.’

  I nod as I pick up the phone. ‘Hello, you’re through to the Lean On Me helpline.’

  ‘Hi.’

  I’m looking directly at Ruth when I say, ‘Hi, Ellie. How are you?’

  There’s a snuffling sound as she blows her nose. She takes a deep, jagged breath but can manage only one word. ‘Confused.’

  ‘And what exactly are you confused about?’ I say, repeating what Ellie has said for Ruth’s benefit.

  ‘I do not know what will happen next.’

  ‘Are you still planning to go home on Saturday?’

  ‘It is not up to me. I have not seen the tickets or confirmation of a flight.’

  ‘Was he listening in on our conversation last week?’

  She takes another breath that ends with a hiccup. ‘Yes.’

  I nod to let Ruth know that she’s confirmed my suspicions.

  ‘I had no choice,’ continues Ellie. ‘I promised it would be the last call but he does not believe me. He says he will come over later.’

  ‘You don’t have to let him in.’

  ‘I have to. He has my passport.’

  ‘He has your passport? Oh, Ellie, let me help you. It doesn’t matter that the helpline’s closing, you can take my mobile number and phone me whenever you want. I’ll help you find a place to stay and my bo
yfriend, Charlie, will give you a job if you don’t mind cleaning. We’ll make sure you can’t be found and, if you still want to go home, we can help you apply for a replacement passport. We can pay for your flights,’ I tell her, watching Ruth as she nods energetically.

  I reel off my mobile number, repeating it slowly because I don’t know for sure that Ellie’s writing it down. She hasn’t said anything. All I can hear are her stifled sobs.

  ‘Please, Ellie. Let me help.’

  ‘You are too kind to me. I was horrible to you. I should not have told you that you were a bad friend to Megan. It is what he believes so he can blame someone else, but it is not what I think.’

  ‘You didn’t say anything I haven’t thought myself.’

  ‘He forgets he told me once how Megan loved you. You could have helped her if he had let you. That was why I phoned the helpline. It was you I wanted to speak to, Jen.’

  The second phone rings, giving me time to process my feelings. Could I have saved Meg, or was Lewis right to say I was a bad friend? The answer is probably a mixture of the two. I could have saved Meg if I hadn’t been such a bad friend.

  Realising I can still hear a phone ringing, I give Ruth a curious look. She shakes her head. She isn’t going to answer.

  ‘I should go,’ Ellie says.

  ‘Please tell me that you’ve written down my number and you’re going to ring back.’

  ‘I was wrong to involve you, Jen. I worried about Mrs McCoy finding out what he did, but I should have thought about you too. I am sorry for bringing you my problems.’

  ‘Don’t be sorry. Ruth and I have spent ten years imagining what Meg went through,’ I tell her, holding Ruth’s gaze. ‘Nothing was worse than the not knowing. Help us make this right, Ellie. Help us by letting us help you.’

  The second caller rings off but that won’t be enough to keep Ellie on the line. Ruth scribbles a note and shows it to me.

  TELL HER I’M HERE

  ‘Ellie, please don’t disappear and leave us with more unknowns. If you care about my feelings, and Ruth’s, you have to keep talking to us. You don’t have to be afraid any more. You matter to us more than you could possibly know. We’ll make sure you’re safe.’

  ‘You keep saying we,’ Ellie says. There’s a pause. ‘Is she there?’

  ‘Yes, Ruth’s here.’

  Ruth springs to her feet and comes to stand next to me.

  ‘Will you speak with her, Ellie?’ I ask as Ruth reaches across me and switches the call to speakerphone.

  ‘Tell her I am sorry,’ Ellie replies. ‘Say goodbye to her, and Charlie too.’

  ‘Ellie, this is Ruth. Please don’t hang up, I’m begging you,’ she says, her voice rising in panic. ‘Jen has told me what he’s been doing to you, and I know he did the same to Meg. I won’t deny it’s been unbearable to hear but the truth has to come out, no matter how painful.’

  ‘I am not so sure.’

  Ruth freezes and I’m about to speak up when she finds her voice again. ‘Don’t let him get away with this. Please! I’ll be home alone this evening and we can talk for as long as you like.’

  There’s a gulp as Ellie takes a breath. ‘I am sorry, Mrs McCoy.’

  The line goes dead.

  Neither Ruth nor I move. The lifeless phone remains clutched in my hand.

  ‘Do you want a drink?’ Ruth asks, her voice disjointed, as if her mind is still processing what just happened.

  When she picks up my cup, cold liquid slops over the sides, leaving a trail of coffee stains as she walks around to her desk and grabs her mobile. I watch Ruth disappear into the kitchen and, a minute later, I hear her on the phone. Her voice is too low to pick up what she might be saying, not that I care. There are too many unanswerable questions buzzing around my head.

  When Ruth returns with our drinks, we don’t make eye contact. I wrap my hands around the steaming mug and breathe in the warm, coffee aroma. It coaxes me from my stupor.

  ‘Did you speak to Geoff?’ I ask.

  The surface of her mug tremors slightly. ‘I don’t know why I bothered,’ she says, fresh pain in her voice.

  ‘If you want to go home, Ruth, I don’t mind finishing the shift on my own.’

  ‘You don’t need me to stay?’

  I presume she’s asking if I’m ready to talk about what just happened – because it’s clear that she isn’t. Tears sting my eyes but I blink them away. ‘I can manage.’

  Ruth leaves her drink untouched and slips on her coat, tying the belt around her waist to avoid fumbling with the buttons. I stand and go to her. Her cheek is cold as she presses it to mine.

  ‘I’ll see you tomorrow, Ruth.’

  ‘Oh, but I was meant to give you a lift home …’ she says, suddenly remembering. ‘Maybe I should stay.’

  ‘It’s fine, I’ll be safe enough.’

  ‘I hope so,’ Ruth replies, turning away from me before the frown has fully formed on her brow. She holds her head higher than Geoff had earlier, but her steps are as unsure as her husband’s as she crosses the office and disappears through the double doors.

  Taking out my mobile, I stare at Charlie’s name. I can hear it being spoken in my head by someone with a distinct Romanian accent.

  ‘What’s up?’ he asks when he answers my call. There’s traffic noise in the background and the sound of wind scraping against the microphone.

  ‘Ruth’s gone home.’

  ‘Oh, right. Where are you?’

  I check the time. There’s another hour to kill. ‘I’m in the office.’

  ‘Does that mean you need me to pick you up?’ Charlie asks in a way that makes it clear it will be a huge inconvenience if I say yes.

  ‘No, I’ll get a taxi. Are you on your way somewhere?’

  ‘I’m in the New Mersey Retail Park. I’m just stocking up supplies for the new cleaner, and about – to – drop – everything,’ he says in panic. There’s rustling as he adjusts his grip on whatever he’s holding. ‘So what’s happened? Did Ellie ring?’

  ‘We can talk when I get home,’ I say. ‘You’d better go.’

  Charlie doesn’t respond immediately. It wouldn’t take a genius to work out from my lifeless tone that my last shift on the helpline has me beaten. ‘Are you sure, Jen?’

  ‘I’ll see you later. Bye.’

  After only a few moments, the helpline rings out. It’s another regular caller but I struggle to resurrect the emotion I’d felt with all the other farewell messages. The conversation is brief and when the call ends, I wait for the next. It doesn’t come and at 8 p.m. the helpline switches to the answering service. That’s it. It’s over.

  As I tidy up, I convince myself that slicing envelopes open for a living isn’t such a hard life. I’m not destined for the caring profession. I’ve knocked up too many failures and it’s time to put it all behind me. At least I know how Oscar likes his coffee.

  I don’t order a taxi and as I leave the building, I face the simple choice of turning left or right. Sneaking along the waterfront or parading down the Strand offer equal risks of coming face to face with Lewis again, so I opt for the city lights. No one follows me and I tell myself I’m safe when I reach my apartment block, but I feel no relief as I climb the stairs to the seventh floor.

  37

  Jen

  ‘Don’t turn around,’ he’d said and I’m doing as instructed, keeping one eye on our reflections in the window. We’re in a deserted stairwell and Lewis Rimmer sits on the stairs leading to the floor above. I can’t see his face but his feet are planted on the small section of landing that separates us. He’s been waiting for me, but not as long as I’ve been waiting for him.

  I feel exposed with my back turned but in spite of the fear that crawls down my spine on spidery legs, I have no desire to run. I imagine Lewis’s eyes boring into the back of my head but it’s the woman’s face staring back at me from the window that keeps me fixed to the spot. The apparition floating in limbo above the city looks a little like me, but
feels a lot like Meg and I’m ready to pit myself against the man who came between us.

  In the reflected glass, Lewis’s hands hang loosely over bent knees. He’s relaxed, having assumed I’m the timid creature he remembers, but he’s got that wrong, hasn’t he, Meg?

  ‘Ten years on and Meg’s still tormenting us,’ Lewis says. ‘You have to admit, she’d enjoy this.’

  ‘Only if you have a fucked-up view of what enjoyment is.’

  ‘That was our Meg.’

  My jaw twitches. ‘Couldn’t you see how unhappy you made her?’

  ‘Did anyone see how unhappy she made me?’ he asks. When I don’t respond, he adds, ‘I know you want to remember Meg as funny, energetic and just a little bit crazy, but she had a darker side too.’

  ‘If you’re here to rewrite Meg’s story and make this her fault, forget it. Do you seriously expect me to fall for something so crass?’

  ‘Of course not. Nothing ever gets past Jennifer Hunter.’

  ‘Except you apparently,’ I reply. ‘Why couldn’t you leave her alone?’

  ‘Because as hard as you find this to believe, I loved her. I thought I could fix her.’

  ‘Fix her? My God, Lewis, you were the one who broke her. She was desperate to escape and when she failed her exams and realised she’d be stuck in Liverpool with you, it was too much for her.’

  ‘Wrong. We’d both applied to go to Newcastle uni.’

  My brow furrows. ‘No, you were going to John Moores.’

  ‘That was nothing more than a story we made up to keep her parents off her back. Think about it, Jen. Did you seriously think I snapped my fingers and got a place in Newcastle overnight?’

  ‘So what if you did apply to go there?’ I answer with a shrug. ‘It doesn’t mean Meg knew. I can imagine you thought it would be a nice surprise turning up in Fresher’s Week. You were playing games then and you’re playing them now.’

  ‘Meg’s games, Meg’s lies,’ he says.

  ‘And were there more of Meg’s lies in the note you prised from her dead fingers?’ I reply. ‘What happened, Lewis? Had you grown bored of her? Was it a relief when she killed herself? Did you help her along the way?’