Ice Burns

by Lucy Alice

“But you’ve not spoken to her since?” She shakes her head.

  “Maybe she went to her mum in Spain,” she bites her lip and I’m quiet, considering.

  “What happened, Sarah?” She sighs and covers her face in her hands.

  “It’s hard to explain.”

  “Try.”

  There’s a bite in my voice and she can hear it.

  “Amber doesn’t have a good track record. People use her. I didn’t believe people can fall in love so quickly and… I might have used her past as evidence, of sorts,” she looks uncomfortable. “Aiden, looking at you now, and … stuff that’s happening in my own life… I may have been wrong.”

  “You think?” I’m getting angry again.

  “I’m sorry Aiden. I… I can’t explain it, not quickly in a tiny kitchen with the receptionist listening in. But I know Amber. It’ll take her a couple of days, but she’ll know her own feelings, despite her insecurities. She is strong. Give her a few days and then talk to her. I’ll make sure she talks to you, too.”

  “You’d do that?”

  She swallows hard. “If she ever speaks to me again.”

  I leave then, and as I pass by reception I give a business card to the secretary.

  “What’s your name?”

  “Sally, sir”

  “Sally, when Miss Evans walks through that door,” I point to the elevator, “you call me. Understood? I’m an important client here, and if I don’t speak to her, I’m taking it up with Mr Anville. Do you understand me?”

  She looks up at me with big eyes, nodding.

  “See the mobile number?” Nod, nod.

  “Use it. The moment she steps through the door.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  I go back to the office, but give it up after a couple of hours. I take a black cab to London Bridge and go past Amber’s flat again, but there doesn’t seem to be anyone there. I go home and lock myself up with a new bottle of Jack and the DVD remote, watching all the Hunger Games movies. It’s as close as I can feel to Amber right now.

  I fall asleep on the sofa and when I wake up on Sunday morning, I feel terrible. My phone’s in my room and I missed my Park Run alarm. From the balcony, I can see the runners in the park, but it’s almost over - the cafe is full. All I want to do is sink down on my bed and sleep, because I can’t think what else to do with myself for the rest of the day.

  ~ 16 ~

  *AMBER*

  It’s a gloomy morning when I step outside. My new boots - I stopped at one of the discount shoe shops yesterday on my way home - are pinching in the awkward and painful way new boots do, and I wish I’d brought something to wear for the walk in to work. I could take the underground and be there in 10 minutes, but London is quiet this morning, or at least as quiet as London gets, and I want to walk over the river. It sometimes helps clear my head and it’s a ratsnest up there at the moment. Or cobweb-fest. Or some other disgusting animal’s home. Whatever. The point is, my slovenly weekend of ice cream and self-indulgence has left me feeling crappy and I need to pull myself together before I get to the office.

  Somewhere in the night, somewhere between awake and asleep, I decided it was time for a change. I went to college, and I completed my business course because it was a good thing to do. I took this job because it came along. I stayed in it because I can live off the wage and it’s conveniently close to where I live. But it’s been a really long time since I felt excited or passionate about anything - other than Aiden, who I’m not thinking about today.

  I reach the crest of the bridge over the Thames and rest against the wall, both hands supporting me as I lean into it. The water below is dirty and looks freezing as bits of ice cling to the edges of the water where it laps onto the concrete. I take a deep breath, letting the cold air fill my lungs. Yes, I think. It’s time for a change. I don’t know to what, yet, but maybe I can go to Spain, spend some time with Mum and Geoff and figure out what I want to be. My heart physically aches at the thought of putting that much distance between Aiden and myself, and I press the heel of my hand into my chest, trying to ease it.

  I notice an elderly lady in a thick winter coat and one of those Russian looking fur hats standing a little distance away, watching me intently, and I flash a weak smile in her direction.

  “Everything okay, dear?” she asks me in a posh voice, pronouncing her vowels like she has a mouth full of marbles.

  “Yes, thank you. Are you okay ma’am?”

  “Yes, yes, just keeping an eye on you. You are not thinking of climbing on the ledge are you, dear?”

  My eyes go wide and I glance at the icy water below, then back to her. “Heavens no. That’s too cold a grave for me.” I flash her a very bright smile, trying to reassure her.

  “Are you walking into the City?”

  “I am, yes. Just to the other side the bridge.”

  “Good, then you can keep me company.”

  I’m a little dumbfounded. It’s possible, in this city with it’s 8 million people, to go a whole day without really speaking to anyone - I managed three days just this weekend. But I was raised right, so I take her by the arm and begin walking with her down the other side of bridge. I’m not even sure what to say to her so we walk quietly for a few minutes, when she breaks the silence first.

  “So, then. What is his name?”

  I look at her in surprise, but she laughs a deep, croaky sort of laugh.

  “Come now, dear. When does a young woman ever clutch at her heart? Unless you saw something shocking in the water,” she glances at me and I shake my head, feeling my cheeks redden a little, “then it must be love causing the pain.”

  What do I have to lose in this incredibly weird interpose? I snort a very unbecoming little laugh, and her eyebrows hitch, but she says nothing.

  “Aiden. His name is Aiden.”

  “And do you love this... Aiden?”

  I open my mouth to say something, but stop. Then start again. I’m doing a really good impersonation of a goldfish, if I do say so myself. “What if it doesn’t matter? What if I did something so horrible he can never forgive me?”

  “Did you have a reason for what you did?”

  “I thought I did, at the time.”

  She stops then, looking at me. “Did someone die?”

  The words come out quickly, on a sigh, “Uhm. Yes, but a long time ago, not to do with me. It’s just. I walked out on him. He lost everyone, and found me, and I walked out on him. I don’t know if he’ll ever forgive me. I won’t be surprised if he’ll never speak to me again.”

  “Never is a long time when there is hate, dear. Never is an even longer time when there is still love.” She sounds almost wistful.

  We’ve stopped at the end of the bridge, and I’m staring at the elderly lady spouting her Jedi wisdom at me. My mouth is slightly agape, and a million things are falling into place in my thoughts. I don’t even notice when she raises her hand, so I start backward when a double decker bus pulls up behind me so close, the protruding mirror actually hits my ponytail. The driver opens the door and the little old lady starts climbing the stairs, then stops and leans back, cupping my cheek in her hand.

  “The years pass quickly, dear. Do not waste a moment on not knowing. Ask him. If he can not forgive you and understand your reasons, you should not be staring into the abyss on his account and if he can forgive you, you should not be staring into the abyss at all”.

  I want to say something to her, thank her, ask her more questions, but the driver is impatient and hits the button to close the door so that she has to pull her hand away quickly. I yell out, “Who are you?” but she just stands in the door smiling at me as the bus pulls away and disappears around the corner, leaving me staring after it.

  I stand for a few long minutes, till someone tuts behind me, presumably annoyed that I’m just standing still in the middle of the pavement. It shakes me out of my stupor and I walk the final few minutes to work.

  When the elevator doors open, Sally looks with a professio
nal smile plastered on to her face, then starts a little. “Amber! We weren’t expecting you in till next week, were we?”

  “No, I know, but … too much holiday” I smile, trying to make light of it. “I thought I’d come in and catch up on some stuff.”

  “Okay, well, I hope you have a good day, Amber.”

  “Thanks, you too.” What’s going on with everyone today? I don’t think Sally’s ever done more than nod in my direction. I wonder if I was supposed to give her a Christmas present. With Mr Marks’ sudden departure we didn’t participate in this year’s Secret Santa, but we were down for it. I turn to ask her about it, but she’s on the phone, so I leave it and keep walking to my office.

  I switch the lights on and let out a long sigh. It feels like a house before you move out. You know you’ve spent years there, but you look at your furniture and can visualise them in their new surroundings. Except in this scenario, I’m the furniture and I have no idea what the surrounds are going to be.

  I make a coffee, for one this time, while I listen to the voice messages. There are a few from clients, but at least one a day from Elizabeth. The message left on Christmas day actually makes me feel bad for her.

  “Hi, this is Elizabeth again. Message for Jackson. I am sorry baby, I didn’t mean to make you this angry. I miss you. Please call me. I have to talk to you about something. Please, don’t ignore me anymore. Please.”

  There are a few messages like that, then one on Friday night. “Jackson, it’s Elizabeth. You’re a jerk and a prick and I hate you. Please, please call me. I don’t know what to do.”

  And more messages like it over the weekend. I write down all the names and numbers and start returning client calls, saving Elizabeth for last. I’ve made two calls, giving the clients the name of the new associate who would be taking over their cases, when the phone rings from reception. Sally says there’s a woman in reception who’d like to see Mr Jackson and she’s pretty irate. Elizabeth, I’m sure. It may not be my place, but I think it’s time this woman was given some home truths, so I tell Sally I’m coming.

  As I enter reception I see the woman from the photo on Mr Jackson’s laptop. Elizabeth is everything I thought she was. Small, petite actually, blonde hair, shrill voice. She’s wearing a tight fitting long sleeved shirt that shows off a slightly rounded stomach that’s at odds with the rest of her very delicate, almost gaunt features. Her cheeks and eyes are a little sunken and I the thought “she could do with a solid meal” crosses my mind. Except for that belly. Is Elizabeth pregnant? All her messages and cryptic clues fall into place, and if I felt sorry for her before, I am quite heartbroken for her right now. Who did she wrong in a previous life to fall pregnant to a jerk like Jackson Marks?

  After introductions I spend the next ten minutes telling Elizabeth everything I know about what happened to Mr Marks - leaving out the reasons for his dismissal, and I tell her that I haven’t seen him since the Friday before Christmas, ten days ago, which is seven days after she last saw him.

  Elizabeth tells me that after having to cancel going to the Ice Ball as she felt so crummy and tired, she made an appointment with her doctor the following Monday. She was really surprised to find out she was already 13 weeks pregnant. She’s been so worried about Mr Marks disappearing act that she’s not been able to sleep or eat properly and has lost a ton of weight.

  I am at a total loss on how to help her, and about to suggest that we walk across to HR and see if there are any contact details for next of kin that she might not be aware of, when the elevator doors open. I look up to see a determined, desperate looking man with rain in his hair and heat in his eyes and the world melts away as my face locks on to his.

  Elizabeth and I both stand at the same time, take a step towards him at the same time, and utter the same word, like a screwed up pair of twinsies:

  “Aiden”

  ~ 17 ~

  *AIDEN*

  Well, fuck me.

  Sally called as I sat down at my desk, letting me know that Miss Evans had come in, though she didn’t know how long she was likely to stay for. I didn’t need any more details. I grabbed my coat and took the stairwell three steps at a time, jumping the last five to the next platform of each floor. Outside I hailed the first available cabbie I could find and offered the guy a £20 tip if he could get me to Cannon Street in under 15 minutes. It may be a normal work day, but London is pretty quiet with two days to the new year, this early in the morning, so he gets me there in 12 minutes. I give him two £20’s even though my fare was only £8 but I don’t stick around for the change, instead heading into the lobby of Amber’s building. I jam my finger in the lift button quick and hard and the door opens almost immediately, so I press the number of her floor and I’m pretty much bouncing on my toes, ready to launch myself out of the lift when the doors open.

  And they do open.

  And something in my brain frizzles.

  Two women are sitting talking on the chair. I know both these women. They see me, stand up, step towards me, say my name. I open my mouth to answer Amber as all my energy is currently focused on her, but it’s the other woman’s name that comes out of my mouth:

  “Lizzy?”

  Amber stops in her tracks, but Lizzy keeps coming. I’m frozen to the spot, but Lizzy throws her arms around me, kissing me loudly on each cheek, asking me what I’m doing here.

  “Elizabeth?” Amber asks in a quiet voice. Lizzy turns to her, taking my hand and pulls me towards her.

  “Oh, Amber, this is my husband, Aiden.” She actually beams at me, takes a deep breath and says, “Oh, Aiden, I have wonderful news. I’m pregnant, baby!” She takes my hands and puts them on her slightly protruding belly. Then she sidles closer to me, putting her arms around my neck again, rubbing her breasts against my chest. Amber goes a similar shade of grey to the walls behind her and Sally, who has been peering over the reception desk at the spectacle, gasps loudly.

  Lizzy lowers her voice, and moves her fingers through the hair at the back of my head, saying, “I know there’s stuff to talk about, baby, but we can finally have everything we wanted. This could just as easily be our baby, couldn’t it?” I am not really listening to her; my brain is trying to place together why Amber and Lizzy know each other, and I nod and grunt something incoherent, but I realise my mistake when Amber’s eyes go wide and she takes a couple of steps backwards before sinking heavily into the chair again.

  “Amber?” I try to step towards Amber, which is when I realise that someone - Oh, right, Lizzy - is hanging on me. I take both her hands in mine and drop them to her side, before physically lifting her up, despite her squeal, and putting her behind me. She’s still trying to grab at my shirt when I lunge forward and end up on the floor, kneeling in front of Amber, who finally looks back up at me, surprise written on her face.

  “Mr Marks’ Elizabeth is your Lizzy?” She’s figuring out what I did about 10 seconds before extracting myself from Elizabeth’s grasp.

  I shake my head. “No, Amber. She’s not my Lizzy. She was, once, but I haven’t seen her in months.”

  “Months?” She looks like she’s going to throw up. “So it could be your baby?”

  I laugh and even I’m surprised by the derision in my voice. “Are you kidding? I haven’t touched her since before her supposed miscarriage, more than 3 years ago! I saw her in court a few months ago, to finalise the divorce!” Amber is visibly relieved and lets out a groan as she clutches at her chest. The groan is a familiar sound and unbelievably, it makes my dick twitch. Just then there’s a yell behind us and I whirl around to see Lizzy, her face scrunched up as she shrieks at me.

  “What the fuck is going on here, Aiden? Are you screwing this home wrecker?” Lizzy stomps her foot and the whole thing is so ridiculous, I do something I’ve only ever done once before - the day she told me it had all been a lie - I get right up in her face and yell back at her.

  “It was you, wasn’t it? I get it now. I wondered how I hadn’t noticed that all the sale
paperwork for the farm had the wrong sale price on it. But it didn’t did it? When I filed it, it was the original, but you switched it out, later. After you decided to help Jackson Marks steal £5,000,000 from me. With money coming in from the sale, and mum and dad’s life insurances and going out with your shopping sprees and funerals and income tax and buying the house for you and stuff that was so way over my head, you figured I’d never know, didn’t you?

  “I.. what are you.. I don’t… “

  “DIDN’T YOU, LIZZY?”

  “You weren’t interested in me without the stupid baby… I had to protect myself!”

  “When did you start fucking my lawyer, Lizzy?”

  She stammers and shoots a look at Amber. “I… we.. only met recently. I didn’t know he was your lawyer.”