Time After Time

by Hannah McKinnon

  ‘Argh! What the hell?’

  Her hair was cut in a cropped bob, much shorter than it had been the night before.

  Why can’t I remember Ellen cutting it?

  She smoothed it down with her damp hands and swallowed. Of course it would grow back eventually, but Rick was in for a surprise. He loved her long hair.

  Will he think I did it to spite him? How many lies am I going to have to spin?

  Rick would assume she’d spent the night at Ellen and Mark’s. After all, she had said, ‘Don’t wait up.’

  Maybe he hasn’t phoned Ellen yet. Hang on, that’s it! Phone Ellen.

  Hayley rushed back to the kitchen, snatched up the phone and dialled Ellen’s number.

  ‘Hello?’ a male voice said.

  ‘Mark?’ Hayley whispered into the phone.

  ‘Hayley,’ Mark said. ‘Trust you to be the first to call for the gossip. How are you?’

  Hayley ignored Mark’s cheeriness. ‘Is Ellen there?’

  ‘Sorry, no. She went to pick up Morgan.’

  ‘Pick her up?’ Hayley frowned. ‘On a Saturday morning?’

  ‘Oh, she wanted to go last night.’ He chuckled.

  ‘What?’ Hayley said, then pressed on. ‘Fine. Will they be back soon?’

  ‘Any minute now. Shall I ask her to call you?’

  ‘Don’t bother. I’m coming over.’

  ‘Okay, see you. Say hi to Chris.’ Mark hung up.

  Hayley still had the phone to her ear.

  How did he …? Oh Christ, who else knows?

  Shaking, Hayley realised she had two choices: leave and rush around Ealing in a sweaty dressing gown or go back upstairs to hunt for her things. While the first option meant she wouldn’t have to confront Chris, she couldn’t bring herself to leave the house so scantily dressed. She crept back upstairs, bracing herself for the inevitable confrontation. She needn’t have worried; he was lying on his back, fast asleep and snoring with his arms stretched out. The room smelled of a fresh fart.

  She wrinkled her nose and looked around for her clothes. She spotted a pair of jeans, knickers, bra and a shirt lying on the floor next to ‘her’ side of the bed. They weren’t hers but she didn’t care – she would have donned a Ronald McDonald suit if it meant getting out of there.

  With the exception of the knickers – going commando would have to suffice – she pulled the clothes on. They fit perfectly. While she searched for her shoes, an old and faded bag next to the chest of drawers caught her eye, and she recognised it instantly. It had been her favourite bag in the late ‘80s – blue denim, crescent-shaped, bright yellow stitching, big buckle – very trendy at the time. In fact, she’d seen one like it in a magazine less than a week ago, and had moaned at how old it made her feel.

  It can’t be mine, surely?

  Feeling like an amateur burglar, she carefully opened the bag and peered inside. Hayley A. was marked on the liner in thick, black felt-tip pen. She’d written it the day she’d bought the bag.

  I thought I’d thrown it out. Did Chris keep it? That’s really creepy.

  She stuck a hand in the bag and then pulled it back as if she’d been bitten.

  Hang on … did he give it to his wife? Oh shit! He’s probably married with kids too.

  As she rummaged around the bag she found keys, a small purse and a mobile phone, lipstick and lip balm. Next, she opened the purse and pulled out a two ten pound notes. She was about to see what else was in it when Chris spoke.

  ‘Where are you going?’

  Hayley dropped the purse on the floor as she spun round. ‘I-I … I’m leaving.’

  ‘Don’t go,’ Chris said and winked at her. ‘I’ve got something for you …’ He started lifting the sheets away from his lower body.

  ‘Got to go,’ Hayley squealed as she sprinted out of the room and down the stairs, grabbing a blue jacket and slipping her feet into a pair of trainers by the front door.

  ‘Pick up some milk at the Spar, yeah?’ Chris yelled.

  ‘They’re closed for renovations,’ Hayley shouted back.

  What?

  She shook her head and slammed the door as Chris called out, ‘Don’t forget your keys this time.’

  Halfway down the garden path she realised she still held the blue denim bag and the money in her hands.

  Well he can sod off, I’m not going back in. Ever. And it’s not really stealing.

  In theory, at least, the bag belonged to her and she could have the contents and money couriered to Chris’ house along with the clothes and the trainers. She pulled the jacket on, thankful that the rain had finally stopped and the sun was out, and broke into a light jog. Birds were chirping, no doubt equally grateful for the more clement weather, but Hayley ignored them. She was in no mood for their overstated merriment.

  Unsure if she was imagining them or not, Hayley thought she felt the judgmental stares of the people she rushed past. Each time she caught sight of her dishevelled reflection in a shop window, she put her head down a bit further and ran a little faster, practically legging it for what should have been a twenty-five minute walk from Chris’ house to Ellen and Mark’s. The only time she slowed down was when she passed the Spar on the corner. The sign in the window read ‘We’re renovating to serve you better. Please excuse any inconvenience.’

  How the hell did I know that? It was a post office last time I was here.

  She kept on running.

  When Ellen opened the front door, Hayley rushed forward into her arms and stuck to her like a bug to a windscreen. ‘Oh my god I’m so glad you’re home.’

  Ellen laughed and hugged her back. ‘Yikes, easy tiger. I know I haven’t seen you for a week but this is ridiculous.’

  ‘What?’ Hayley said as she looked around. ‘Where’s Mark?’ She couldn’t face having a heart-to-heart with him there.

  ‘He popped out with Morgan. You okay?’

  ‘No. No I’m not, I …’ Big fat tears started rolling down Hayley’s cheeks.

  ‘Oh dear. Things not great with Chris then?’

  ‘What? You knew? How did this happen? I know we had a few drinks last night but I didn’t think I was that pissed. Oh god.’ Hayley pressed her hands over her eyes for a second, then looked at Ellen. ‘When did you get a spray tan? No, never mind. Do you know where I went after I left?’

  ‘Left where?’

  ‘Here,’ Hayley said, her voice louder than she’d intended.

  ‘You were here last night?’ Ellen asked. ‘When? Greece was fabulous by the way. You were right. We needed a holiday. The weather, the food, the sex.’ She winked at Hayley. ‘Heaven.’

  ‘What holiday?’

  ‘Ours. Bloody hell, you must have got really hammered last night.’

  ‘Yes. With you. After my argument with Rick, remember? I got a taxi home but I woke up with Chris.’

  ‘Who’s Rick? What are you …?’

  The front door opened and Mark came in, followed by a glossy-coated black Labrador with a chunky red collar covered in silver rivets. The dog bounded over to Hayley, barked and wagged its tail while its paws slipped across the floor, making a clip-clipping noise.

  Mark kissed Ellen and hugged Hayley. ‘I think she’s pissed off at us for sending her to the kennels. Aren’t you, you daft dog?’ The dog barked again. Mark bent over and the dog immediately fell to the floor, belly side up in a tickle-me-now gesture, moaning quietly.

  ‘Where’s Morgan?’ said Hayley, as she looked around. ‘And since when do you have a dog?’

  Ellen and Mark exchange glances. ‘That’s Morgan.’ Ellen pointed at the Labrador, who was busy gnawing on a spit covered slipper with the Star Wars logo.

  Mark frowned. ‘Hayley, are you feeling okay? You’re acting weird.’

  A shiver travelled down her spine and she took a step back.

  Something’s wrong. Really wrong.

  ‘Guys, come on,’ she said. ‘Did you get the dog today? Why would you call it the same name as your daughter? Tha
t’s weird.’

  Ellen moved towards her and gently took her hands. ‘You gave us a puppy for Christmas. Six years ago. We called her Morgan.’ Her slow and deliberate tone made Hayley feel like a child. ‘We don’t have a daughter. Are you okay? Why don’t you sit down?’

  Hayley snatched her hands away and took another couple of steps back, shaking her head and her right hand at them at the same time. Their expressions didn’t change – they were still looking at her with frowns and narrowed eyes.

  ‘What? Hilarious, ha ha ha. I never gave you a puppy and if you don’t have a daughter, then what do you call this?’

  She stomped over to Morgan’s bedroom and flung the door open, drawing her breath sharply as she looked inside. A desk with a computer screen, a pile of papers and a pen holder were where Morgan’s bed had been. A slightly chewed, brown wicker dog basket with a green plastic hedgehog lay to the left of the desk. The bookcases weren’t filled with Little Miss or Angelina Ballerina books. Instead there were novels and some quirky bird ornaments. Hayley noticed Mark’s guitar in the corner.

  How the hell?

  The empty floor had none of Morgan’s squishy cuddly toys. Soft grey paint, not girly pink, covered the walls. The pretty pastel curtains were now dark green and there weren’t any pictures of Ellen, Mark and Morgan. Instead a framed photograph of Stonehenge and another of the London Eye at night hung on the wall.

  No Morgan. Then what about Millie and Danny?

  It was incomprehensible, simply too much to take in. The room started spinning, faster and faster, like a psychedelic merry-go-round on speed. As her legs gave way beneath her, Hayley thought she saw Ellen and Mark rush towards her, arms outstretched, trying to catch her as she slid silently to the floor.

  CHAPTER 7

  1988

  Here Goes Nothing

  ‘It’s going to happen tonight,’ Hayley whispered into the phone. She lay on her bed and stared up at her Simon Le Bon posters.

  ‘I can’t believe you’re going to do it already.’ Ellen seemed to suck up each of Hayley’s words like a human Hoover. ‘Mark and me have been going out as long as you two but I’m not ready.’

  ‘I am. It’s been three months and we’ll be together forever. It’s so perfect.’ Hayley exhaled deeply, then added, ‘Except when he gets pawed and pouted at by his exes. I still hate that.’

  ‘I’m not surprised.’

  ‘It happened again but he didn’t flirt back and just introduced me as my girl Hayley.’

  ‘That’s cool. So do you still pinch yourself every day?’ Ellen asked. ‘I do.’

  Hayley laughed. ‘Yeah. I keep wondering why he’s going out with me. I hope he doesn’t start wondering too.’

  ‘He wouldn’t,’ Ellen said. ‘And you’re sure about this weekend?’

  ‘Deadly sure.’

  ‘What about his mum?’

  ‘Away for the weekend. And his dad hasn’t called him for months. But remember, my dad thinks I’m at your house. Mum says it’s best because he conveniently forgets they were younger than me when they, well, you know …’

  ‘Ewwwww, gross.’ Ellen made gagging noises and Hayley laughed. ‘And Chris isn’t pushing you into this? Really?’

  ‘No, he’s not, honest,’ Hayley said. ‘In fact he said he wasn’t in a rush and that I have to feel ready.’ Hayley saw it as another of his old-fashioned ways, like holding doors open and ordering for her at the chippy. ‘Did I tell you he gave me a gold necklace with a heart?’

  ‘Only five times.’ Ellen said. ‘You’re so lucky he’s working.’

  ‘I know. I didn’t think apprentice electricians made that much,’ Hayley said. ‘He got himself this really cool jacket the other day, a Boss one. Said it was a nineteenth birthday pressie to himself.’

  ‘Nice.’

  ‘I know. And he got me flowers. Roses. Half a dozen of them.’

  ‘Lucky you,’ Ellen said. ‘I don’t think I’ve seen you so happy and confident, like, ever.’

  Hayley laughed. ‘Mum said it’s doing wonders for my ego.’

  ‘Speaking of,’ Ellen said, ‘I still can’t believe she helped you get the Pill and a box of condoms. If I told mine I was even thinking of sleeping with Mark she’d put a crocodile down my knickers to bite his thingy off.’

  ‘Stop calling it a thingy. It’s only because your mum’s more uptight than mine,’ Hayley said. ‘You know what? I asked her the other day why they got married so young. Guess what she said.’

  Ellen gasped and Hayley pictured her lying on her bed, eyes wide. ‘Was it because of a baby? Do you and Jackie have a secret sibling?’

  Hayley giggled. ‘Nah. She said they got fed up of using the back seat of dad’s car.’

  ‘Argh, that’s disgustingly minging.’

  ‘I know.’

  ‘She’s so cool. So is your dad.’

  ‘Aww … still no news from yours then?’

  Ellen sighed. ‘Nah. You know what he’s like. Once a year, if I’m lucky. If only your parents were mine. Then we’d be sisters.’

  ‘That would be so cool.’

  ‘Yeah, but you know what they were like until they split up. Even now they can’t talk to each other normally.’

  ‘You know, I’ve only seen Mum and Dad argue once. Jackie and me can’t ever divide and conquer. It’s so annoying.’

  Ellen laughed. ‘That’s my fantasy.’

  ‘What? Conquering?’

  ‘No, silly. Being one hundred percent compatible and living happily ever after. I don’t care about a career. I want to find the love of my life, have kids and be happy. You know?’

  ‘But …’ Hayley stopped herself from adding ‘It’s not sodding 1953! No career? Are you mad?’ Instead she said, ‘Well, I still want to be a solicitor. I want to support myself and not have to rely on a guy. Unless it’s Patrick Swayze, of course. I’ll make an exception for him.’

  ‘Tell you what,’ Ellen giggled, ‘we’ll share. I’ll have him every other day.’

  ‘Hah! Listen, I’d better go and get ready. I want tonight to be brilliant.’

  ‘Wait, Hayley …’

  ‘Yeah? S’up?’

  Ellen’s voice was quiet, hesitant, not the girl brimming with confidence that Hayley was used to. ‘You … You’re not going to be like those girls who’ve had sex? You won’t stop being friends with me just because I’m still a … a virgin, and –’

  ‘What are you like?’ Hayley said as she wrapped the telephone cord around her fingers. ‘Don’t be daft. We’re best friends. No guy will ever come between us. Promise.’

  ‘Okay, phew. Have fun … Shaggy …’

  Hayley stretched and yawned after she hung up. She’d have the longest shower ever, use her new body lotion and Impulse spray, shave her legs, tackle her bikini line and make the evening absolutely perfect. She looked at the outfit she’d put on her bed. Blue leggings, long, black, off-the-shoulder shirt, yellow leather pumps and bright orange bangles.

  Wicked. Life is good.

  But standing on Chris’ doorstep six hours later, Hayley’s confidence had swirled down the drain. The rain had made her hair instantly mutate into frizzy sheep mode. She hadn’t realised how much she’d stuffed into her overnight bag. Carrying it for the ten-minute walk from Ealing Common tube station to Chris’ house had made her feel like a Sweaty Betty, and it wasn’t even that warm outside. And to top it all off she’d just scuffed her new shoes on the kerb. She wished she had a thick, woolly hat. Preferably pulled down right over her face.

  Bollocks. Big, fat, hairy bollocks, bollocks, bollocks.

  This wasn’t how she’d imagined it. If only she’d taken a taxi and arrived at Chris’ looking sexy, or as sexy as she could muster. In turn, he’d open the door, sweep her up in his arms, carry her to his bedroom and … and … well, that’s where she only technically knew what would happen, but in her imagination it was all good.

  As she alternately fiddled with her hair and wiped her hands on her leggings,
Chris opened the door. He looked like a model in his stone-washed, purposely knee-ripped jeans and an army style T-shirt that showed off his muscular arms. He’d let his quiff grow a little longer and it made him look like Nick Kamen. Only sexier. Hayley gulped.

  Chris smiled, took a step forward and kissed her gently on the lips. ‘Hello, gorgeous.’

  ‘Hi.’ It was a miracle she even got that much out.

  He opened the door further. ‘Coming in?’

  It was a small house, two up, two down, with a bathroom upstairs and a separate loo on the main floor. Hayley had imagined it would be cosy, but it felt as welcoming as Broadmoor. Sparsely furnished, there were no family pictures or personal trinkets. His mum took about as much interest in interior design as she did in her son.

  ‘Is your mum in?’ Hayley said.

  ‘No, she left this morning,’ Chris said. ‘Won’t be back until tomorrow night.’

  Hayley breathed an inward sigh of relief.

  Thank goodness she’s not here to ruin everything.

  One of Hayley’s uncles was an alcoholic, so she’d spotted the tell-tale signs the first time she met Mrs. Jenkins. Her perfume of choice, Eau de Vodka, surrounded her like a cloud. She often slurred her speech and Hayley had not once seen her eat a proper meal. She’d felt sorry for her, at first, until she’d realised that Mrs. Jenkins’s only worry was her next drink.

  ‘Cup of tea?’ asked Chris, taking her bag and setting it down in the hall. ‘Or something else? I could make you a sandwich. Are you hungry?’

  ‘No, I’m okay.’ Hayley looked around and fidgeted with her new necklace, sliding the heart pendant up and down the chain.

  This is so awkward. We both know what’s going to happen tonight …

  ‘Do you fancy going out to that new pizza place or to the cinema?’ Chris said. ‘There are a couple of good films on. Uh, or we could stay in … It’s up to you. So … so what do you think?’ He waved a hand. ‘No … no rush to decide though.’

  Hang on, he’s so jumpy. Hah … He’s more nervous than me!

  She stopped fidgeting. ‘Take me upstairs.’

  Where the heck did that come from? Who do I think I am? Samantha Fox?