Time After Time

by Hannah McKinnon

  He turned away and filled a glass with water from the tap.

  I said yes straight away. Oh fuck. What an idiot!

  ‘I said yes. You didn’t break my door,’ she muttered to herself.

  ‘Eh?’ he said and took a sip of water. ‘What door?’

  ‘Nothing.’ Trying very hard to make a statement rather than ask a question she added, ‘And then I left university.’

  Chris’ brow furrowed. ‘Why are you bringing this up? It was your idea. You said you wanted to help with the mortgage when Mum died.’

  She died? That’s why I quit university?

  His face softened again as he broke into a grin, then he chuckled. ‘Remember the look on your mum and dad’s faces when we told them, eh?’

  She could very well imagine it – probably horror rather than delight at seeing her drop out of law school so she could help pay her fiancé’s mortgage.

  ‘I wonder what would have happened if I’d finished my law degree?’

  ‘What’s with you today?’ He shook his head. ‘I would have had to sell my house.’

  ‘Yes, but –’

  ‘Jesus, Hayley, ever since Ronald died you moan non-stop.’

  ‘Well –’

  ‘Seriously, every day I have to listen to you complain about Charles.’ He laughed. ‘But he is a flashy fucker. All Rolex watches, Armani suits and hot chicks. Lucky bastard. Bet you that’s the life.’ He reached over to give her a slap on the bum but Hayley deftly slid out of reach.

  Suddenly she wondered if she’d ever had kids with this man and tried to stop herself from screaming. ‘So …’ She cleared her throat in an attempt to buy time and calm her nerves. ‘I spoke with Jackie the other day.’

  ‘Yeah?’

  ‘Yes. She and Ray had a bit of a pregnancy scare.’

  ‘Jesus, she isn’t, is she?’

  She watched him closely. ‘No,’ she shook her head. ‘She isn’t.’

  ‘God, can you imagine?’ he said and snorted. ‘Kids. Ugh.’

  ‘Well … you used to say you wanted some.’

  ‘Pfff, yeah when I was a teenager.’ He looked at her sharply. ‘Shit! Are you trying to tell me you’re in the fat club?’

  ‘Fat club? What? No!’

  ‘Thank fuck for that.’ Chris stuffed the rest of the bread into his mouth, dropping crumbs everywhere. ‘We’re getting too old for that kind of shit.’

  She needed to get him out of the house before she burst into tears. Or strangled him. Or both. ‘You’re working tonight?’

  ‘Yeah, at Crowbar. Spikey reckons I should have more gigs soon. I’ll be out all night.’

  ‘That’s good.’

  Good that you’ll be out.

  ‘When are you leaving?’ she said as she tucked her hair behind her ear, not yet used to how short it felt.

  ‘Now. You clear up or I’ll be late for the lads. The washing needs doing too. I don’t have any boxers left. And the dishwasher finished ages ago.’

  ‘I’ll do it. No problem,’ she said automatically, then opened her mouth to protest and tell him he should clear up his own mess. But she needed to have a good snoop around. ‘Okay. So you’ll be back late?’ She crossed all of her fingers behind her back.

  Please say yes.

  ‘Not until early morning.’

  Oh thank god.

  He winked at her. ‘Maybe I’ll slip you a length. It’s been a while.’

  Hayley tried not to shudder. She couldn’t imagine anything worse. ‘I’m on my period.’

  ‘Again?’

  She shrugged. ‘Must be the hormones. Like you said, we’re getting old.’ She heard him mutter, ‘Yuk,’ under his breath as he stepped out of the kitchen.

  When he left the house she felt like she’d been holding her breath for hours. Trying to keep a lid on her emotions, she explored the living room. It looked cosy enough, with a caramel-coloured sofa and matching armchair and a small pine dining table set by the window. There was a picture of her parents, and one of her and Chris on the mantel piece. Two large framed black and white posters, one of the Eiffel Tower and another of the Empire State Building, decorated the walls. Trembling, she sank down on the sofa, buried her head in a cushion and finally let the tears go.

  Sobbing, Hayley pulled out the mobile phone and punched in Rick’s number, but once again the automated voice repeated it was out of service.

  He’s real. I know he is. But I don’t even have a picture of him, or of the kids.

  She let the phone slip out of her fingers and its thud on the floor startled her.

  Don’t sit here and wallow. You’re wasting time. Find a solution. Find a way home.

  She needed to search the house for clues and then leave. How could she stay knowing that Chris would be coming home with triple X-rated intentions?

  I wished myself here, maybe I can wish myself back home.

  She took a deep breath, closed her eyes and tilted her face upwards. ‘I wish I were at home. I wish I were at home. I wish I were at home.’

  She waited five seconds and opened one eye, then closed it and tried again. No luck. The third time she clicked her heels together and repeated the words again. But the Wizard of Oz and her Fairy Godmother must have been on a tea break – or down the pub.

  Hayley climbed the carpeted stairs to what used to be Chris’ mother’s bedroom and looked around. There was a Pac-Man arcade game in one corner and a pin-ball machine in another, along with a flat-screen TV, a Wii and an X-Box, and two bookcases stuffed with DVDs and video games. At the back of the room she spotted a desk with a couple of binders. Eagerly she snatched up the one marked ‘Monthly Finances’.

  Alright, Chris, let’s find out what our life is really like.

  Flicking through the neatly filed contents – obviously her organisational handiwork – Hayley realised they were in trouble. Their income wasn’t anywhere near enough to cover the bills. She searched for something, anything indicating savings or a small nest egg. Instead she found a credit card statement in her name with hardly any expenditure and four in Chris’ name that were all maxed out. It was a miracle they still had the house.

  As she turned the pages she came across a letter addressed to Chris from Turnbull Electric. He’d been fired over a year ago for stealing company property, and, as far as Hayley could tell, he hadn’t had a job since.

  It seemed she worked as much as she could while he did a gig here and there as a DJ, hardly bringing in any money but happily spending hers – and then some. She swallowed. They were broke. There was no way they could have helped her parents out. Hayley felt sick. Deciding she’d seen enough, she went to the bedroom where she’d woken up and started going through the wardrobe. Chris’ clothes took up almost three quarters of the space and a lot of them were designer labels. In contrast, hers were from H&M and George. The wardrobe didn’t yield anything more so she moved on to the chest of drawers.

  As she rifled through the third drawer she found a crisp, white envelope with the familiar Simpson & Partners logo, tucked away between two pairs of tights. Hayley opened it and unfolded the papers she found inside. A hand-written note was stapled to the first page. Dated two months ago, it read:

  Dear Hayley,

  Here are the divorce application papers we discussed. Please let me know when you’re ready and I will assign a person from the team to carry this work out pro-bono. You have more than sufficient grounds to file for divorce citing unreasonable behaviour. Count on us to help you get through this.

  Best, Tony

  Hayley clutched the envelope to her chest.

  What if I’d said yes when Chris proposed?

  She held the answer in her hands. Letting out a deep, primal scream, she jumped up and banged her fists against the wall before pulling over the chest of drawers, sending it crashing to the floor along with the photo frames and a leather jewellery box.

  ‘This can’t be happening,’ she shouted as she stamped her feet. ‘This can’t be fucking happening.
I want to go home. Let me go home, do you hear me?’

  When she finally stopped crying the sky had turned soft shades of pink, like sun-kissed peaches and swirls of candy floss. Hayley lay on the bed and stared out of the window, her eyes puffy and aching, and her brain telling her to sleep.

  She folded the duvet over herself like a cocoon. Safe, warm, protected. At least for now.

  Just a little rest. It’ll clear my head.

  There had to be a way back to her real life. There had to be some way out of this … Hayley searched for the right word … glimpse. Rick, Millie and Danny were all real, weren’t they? She tried to picture their faces, but the harder she fought, the more she felt them fade and slip away, becoming all but faint ghosts of her imagination.

  As she gave in to exhaustion and closed her eyes, she started to plan. In a few hours she’d go to her parents. Tell her mum she needed to move back home for a while.

  Then she’d find Rick Cooper, her husband. Exactly what she’d say to him when she found him, she really wasn’t sure. After all, he’d probably never even heard of her.

  CHAPTER 13

  1993

  A New Chapter

  ‘Yes, I received the documents and we’re all ready for you on Monday, Hayley. We’re looking forward to you starting with us.’ Ronald Simpson’s voice had an unmistakably genuine smile in it, and Hayley struggled not to jump up and down.

  ‘Thank you, Mr. Simpson, thank you so much.’ She grinned like a maniac as she stood in the hallway of her parent’s house, ear pressed to the phone, cord wrapped tightly around her fingers. She could hardly wait to start her a training contract at their Westminster offices.

  ‘So, how will you spend your last weekend of freedom?’ he said.

  ‘I’m moving in with my best friend.’ Hayley grinned again. ‘She’s coming over to give me a hand with the boxes.’

  It wasn’t just the beginning of a new chapter in her life, it was an entire new book. The thought of living with Ellen in her quaint two-bedroom basement flat on Avenue Road in Ealing was deliciously exciting. It had a small kitchen, a decent size living room that had a dining area with enough space to fit a table for four, and a bathroom that even had a proper shower. Ellen’s flatmate had left a few weeks ago to move in with her boyfriend, which Hayley had called ‘perfect bloody timing’.

  ‘What about Mark?’ Hayley had asked Ellen. ‘Doesn’t he want to move in with you?’

  ‘I’m not ready,’ Ellen had answered. ‘He’s the love of my life but I don’t want to play house yet.’

  Hayley hadn’t argued, she herself felt far too busy for a steady boyfriend. She’d had a few encounters since she’d split up with Chris, but nothing really meaningful. And that suited her just fine.

  ‘Well,’ Ronald said, ‘in that case, happy moving.’

  Right on cue, the doorbell proudly played its over-the-top Big Ben chime, and Hayley heard Ellen shouting, ‘Hello? Anybody in?’ through the letterbox. Hayley quickly said goodbye to Ronald while her father opened the door.

  ‘Here to steal my daughter away, are you?’ he said, hugging Ellen. ‘Do I have to pay you to take her?’

  ‘Yes and yes please.’ Ellen said, keeping her face straight. ‘Nah, not really. But never fear, I’ll keep her in check, Girl Guide’s honour. No alcohol, no men. We’ll live like nuns, honest Mr. A. Won’t we, Hayley?’

  Stan put his head back and laughed. ‘I’ll believe it when I see it. I’ll get my shoes and help you with the boxes.’ He looked at Hayley with his hands on his hips. ‘Well, the day has finally come.’

  Hayley smiled at him. When Ellen first moved into her flat and Hayley had turned into a green-eyed monster, desperate for her own independence, Stan had sat her down.

  ‘Sit tight for twelve months. Enjoy being at home, having your clothes washed and your food cooked, and save your money. Trust me,’ he said, and Hayley had begrudgingly agreed.

  Now her time had finally come to live like an adult, pay rent, buy food and complain about the price of utilities.

  ‘Can’t get rid of me quick enough, can you, Dad?’ Hayley said, shaking her head at her father.

  ‘That’s right,’ Stan said. He gave her a squeeze before rolling up the sleeves of his blue cotton shirt. ‘I have to be sure you’ve really gone and then we’ll turn your bedroom into a gym or something.’

  ‘Hey.’ Hayley gave Stan a playful punch on the arm. ‘You’ll miss me you know.’

  ‘I know, poppet, I know. It’s going to be awfully quiet without you and Jackie. Make sure you come back for your mum’s Sunday dinner when you’re not too hung-over, eh?’

  ‘Come on,’ Ellen said as she bounded over to the stairs, her long ponytail swishing behind her. ‘I’ve only got Mark’s car for the next few hours. Let’s get cracking.’

  Ellen, Hayley and her parents emptied her room box by box. She didn’t have much to take, mainly clothes, shoes and make-up, her LP collection, some CDs and books. A box of cuddly toys she’d kept over the years along with a few board games.

  ‘Are you sure you don’t want to take your bed and dresser?’ Karen asked, helping her put the remaining bits and pieces into a box, while Ellen and Stan carried the packed ones downstairs.

  ‘No, thanks Mum. Ellen’s lending me a mattress until I get something new.’

  ‘Well then,’ Karen fished around in her apron pocket, ‘you’d better have this to help you get started.’ She handed Hayley an envelope.

  ‘What’s this?’

  ‘Open it and see.’

  Hayley pulled out a gift voucher for a hundred and fifty pounds for a big furniture shop. ‘Oh my goodness, this is fantastic. Thank you, thank you, thank you.’ She put her arms around her mum and held on tight, suddenly wondering if leaving was such a good idea after all. She swallowed. Time to grow up. ‘Thanks again, Mum. I’ll be able to get everything I wanted and still have some left.’

  Karen smiled and smoothed a hand over Hayley’s hair. ‘You’re more than welcome. Now, let’s finish up or we’ll never get you unpacked and settled in at the other end.’

  Hayley looked around her bedroom. She saw herself snuggled up in bed, listening to her Human League and Adam and the Ants LPs or swooning over her Duran Duran and Patrick Swayze posters with Jackie and Ellen. She’d spent hours in her room, swotting for her ‘O’ and ‘A’ Levels and, more recently, her law exams. She’d cried over boys and written in tear-stained diaries. She’d grown from child to teenager to young woman. But the time had come to start afresh. A delightful shiver of excitement spread through her body.

  Something’s going to happen. Something big. I can feel it.

  CHAPTER 14

  Anywhere But … Where?

  Hayley woke up with a jump, surrounded by darkness, then she started to shiver. Her legs felt numb and she winced as she straightened her back. She fumbled for her bedside light but couldn’t find it. Then she remembered. Chris’ house. And he’d be returning soon.

  As her brain became less jumbled and her senses returned, she realised her eyes were covered with something. She slid it away and groaned as the light coming in through a crack in the curtains hit her eyes, then closed them tight for a second. She opened them again, slowly this time, and looked at the object she’d pulled off her face; a black, silk sleep mask with a crimson strap.

  ‘Where the hell?’ she said out loud as she pushed herself up onto her elbows, sending the bottle that had been lying next to her spinning across the floor.

  Hell it was most certainly not. And it wasn’t Chris’ bedroom either. She was lying on a thick white mat on the floor of the biggest bathroom she’d ever seen.

  Hayley rubbed her eyes. Twin sinks that were at least five feet apart and a cabinet above them, equally wide, caught Hayley’s eye first. Then she noticed the spacious glass shower and a cast-iron, claw-foot bath, under which the bottle had disappeared. Soft, plush-looking towels with HG embroidered on them were stacked neatly on built-in shelves. Natural light streamed
in through the large, frosted windows.

  Where the hell am I? Buckingham Palace?

  Hayley winced again as she tried to get up, deciding to stretch out her legs instead. Her toes touched the warm, charcoal-coloured tiles that covered the floor. She looked at her feet, registered the perfect French manicure but couldn’t fathom when she’d had them done.

  Her eyes moved to the dressing table with its neatly arranged make-up brushes and pots of high-end creams.

  As she got up, she instinctively put her hands to her body and looked down at the ivory nightdress that stopped an inch above her knees.

  ‘What on earth …?’ Hayley made her way towards the open door leading out of the bathroom, not daring to look left or right. She found herself in a room with a king size bed that had dark-green satin sheets and pillows that resembled giant, springy marshmallows. It all reminded her of The Princess and the Pea fairy tale she’d read to Millie dozens of times.

  A pristine, beige suede ottoman, which looked like it had never been used, was at the foot of the bed. Across from that, at least fifteen feet away, was a large, solid, wooden desk with two drawers and silver, lion head handles, and a crystal bauble table lamp with a teal lampshade. The abstract, multi-coloured painting hanging above the desk reminded Hayley of the swirly lollipops she and Ellen used to buy for ten pence from Mrs. King’s World of Sweets.

  In front of a prominent bay window to the right was a stylish, beige chaise-longue with emerald green cushions complete with a sparkling sequinned peacock design. Green, raw silk, half-open curtains graced the windows and the walls were painted an elegant cream that matched the chaise-longue. Hayley felt her feet disappear up to her ankles in the off-white carpet.

  How did I get here? Where is here? And what time is it?

  Hayley spotted a little gold clock on one of the bedside table. Five minutes to nine. She grabbed a small plastic water bottle next to the clock and took a big swig.

  ‘Argh!’ She coughed and spluttered. It tasted like gin.

  Apart from the bathroom door she’d just come through, there were two others that led out of the room. Hayley rubbed her eyes again, then crept back over to the bathroom, gently opened the closed door next to it, felt around for the light switch and flicked it on.