“Ready…” Peter called out.
“Set…” Nikky added, and Alan bent low. I tensed with him and as Nikky blew the whistle and Peter shouted ‘Go!’ I cheered with the others as Alan hurtled towards me. He was right, James was a little rocket and soon the distance between them grew but he clapped my hand and I ran faster than I had moved in months to the line at the end, turning and then running back to the start. Peter stood next to Alan, a hand on his shoulder as he jumped up and down screaming my name. I was neck and neck with Daisy’s mum and, digging my nails in my palms, I pushed with all I had. My back protested and a dull pain ripped along my hips and stomach. I pulled from deep inside and threw the last of my energy out and collapsed over the line. Relief and surprise rolled together and I laughed. I still had it. I wasn’t totally out of shape.
“Kate, Kate. We did it. We won!” Alan pulled at my arm until I stood up and then he threw his arms around me – head-butting my stomach in excitement and making me grimace.
“Well done, sweetie,” I stroked his hair as we walked back to my baby.
“I was fast, wasn’t I?”
“Yup.”
Alan continued to chatter, then without warning he shot off towards Nikky and Peter and animatedly re-enacted the race to them both. Nikky grinned at me while Peter just glanced over and then took Alan’s hand. Together they picked a prize from the table. Peter crouched face to face with Alan and whispered something in his ear. Alan looked over at me and giggled.
When the races ended and the children were taken home I sat on the grass with Nikky while she cuddled my little man, who stared up at her with his serious dark eyes. The heat of the sun had burnt away, and a cool breeze ruffled the air. The sweat trickling down my back itched, and absently I rubbed the brand through my tee shirt. It was raised and hard. The Henleys and Hayley sat in the nearest gazebo drinking wine and laughing, while Glen and the Enforcers still huddled over the maps with Peter pointing out locations and scribbling notes. Rich had left at the request of one of his congregation – something about discussing another wedding. Other townsfolk paired off or sat in groups, chatting and drinking. I sipped at my squash and closed my eyes in bliss as another gust of wind passed.
“He’s so cute. I think he just smiled at me,” she exclaimed making strange ‘bub’ noises and tickling him. He just stared back, his fingers wrapped around hers.
“I think he’s thinking ‘who’s this strange woman and what the hell is she doing?’”
She pulled a face at me and continued with the strange guttural sounds until a smell caught us both and she promptly handed him back to me for a change. “Not cute anymore. You know, today has been perfect. Peter’s done really well.”
“Wasn’t just him, you did most of the organising.”
“Yeah but it was all his idea. He likes you, you know. He asked me to put a good word in but you know me. I’m not that subtle.”
“You’re as subtle as a brick in the face. I thought you might like him.” I remained as calm as I could.
“Well, yeah,” she paused. “But plenty more fish in the sea. He’s probably too nice for me. You need someone nice.”
“I don’t need anyone, Nikky.” My baby looked up at me and wriggled restlessly as I did up the buttoned outfit. “And I don’t want anyone either. I just like being alone.”
“Yeah but, he’s really nice, and there’s Rich.”
“You’re like a bloody broken record. Rich and Peter, Peter and Rich.”
“I just want you to be happy.”
“I am.”
“Are you really?”
I didn’t reply. When the truth is replaced by silence, the silence is a lie.
Later that night, I sat in the living room and read with just the side lamp on, the small glow illuminating me and the moses basket. My little one had started screaming and crying earlier that evening and nothing soothed him. With apologies and embarrassment I left the evening party and returned home. For two hours he had sobbed until his shuddering little body gave way to exhaustion. His pain was my pain and I cried with him, desperate to soothe him, let him know I was here and I loved him so completely. I stood by the basket long after he fell asleep, too scared to move in case it woke him. When finally satisfied I grabbed the nearest book and lost myself.
It was nearly midnight when the door opened. I jumped up to greet them, desperate for some conversation, but instead ran straight into him and felt his hands grab the tops of my arms. I screamed and the baby woke, joining in with wails of his own. Peter stank of beer. Every cry from my little hope ripped me apart and pulled deep within. He grabbed my hair and silenced my scream with his hand. He’d been smoking; I could smell and taste the nicotine on his fingers: he pushed me roughly against the door frame. The wood slammed into my spine but the physical pain was nothing compared to the ear piercing screams from the basket. I started crying.
“Don’t cry, Anna. I’m going to take my hand away, don’t scream.” He rubbed my face and leaned his cheek against mine. “Please, don’t scream.” He let go and strode over to my baby, grabbing him and holding him close again. He was impossibly gentle as he kissed the tiny face, the cries subsiding to snuffles and murmurs. So tiny, seeing him in his arms showed to me the glaring vulnerability of new life and the cold cruelties to which he could be subjected.
“He’s my baby as well, Anna. You mustn’t keep him from me.” Laying him back down with a kiss, he turned to me. “We can stay here, settle down. I can give you what you want, but I need to be with him, with you.”
Rushing to the basket I picked up my child and backed away again; he already smelt of spiciness, smoke and beer. I wanted my baby smell back, my baby. Not his, never his. I tried to leave then, but he blocked the doorway with his huge frame. “Talk to me, stop ignoring me.” Marching us to the sofa he pushed me down and sat with his hand on my knee. I was forced to sit and hear his pain at missing me, of his loneliness: all he ever wanted was a family, my love. Was I meant to care? I stared at the clock. Eventually he grabbed my chin and forced me to look at him.
“Talk to me. Tell me about your family, your life. Why did you lie about the name of your job and your husband? What else have you lied to me about?” The hard, cold face was back, and his words carried the threat. I was mute. I wanted to scream ‘everything’ in his face, but the warmth of baby between us acted as both a barrier and a connection, and no longer did the fear for myself engulf me – it had been replaced by the fear for my child. I glanced over to the clock again.
“They’re not coming back tonight, Glen’s taken Hayley away, camping on the beach, some shit about being romantic. Why do you think I’m here? This is the first opportunity I’ve had to truly be alone with you. I miss you, Anna, so so much. I think about what we had all the time.”
I jerked my head free and his body stiffened. He grabbed my left hand, squeezing my wrist in his vice-like grip. His calluses were like grit on my skin.
Turning my hand over, he thumbed the ring he had forced on me. “You still wear it. When I saw you with it–”
“I can’t get it off.” I cut him off, unable to hide the way my lip curled.
He squeezed my hand, the pressure building and building until I gasped.
“I couldn’t just take you back, God I wanted to. Not from here and the fucking pious rules they enforce. You’ve been clever, haven’t you? Made friends with the councilman’s husband, with Glen and Hayley, even the fucking vicar – have you fucked him? Tell me you haven’t. I don’t know what I’d do if you had.” Alcohol made his tongue loose, and I wondered if it made his reactions slow, if there was time for me to run.
Shaking my head I didn’t cry out, I was under that spell again, but this time I knew it for what it was, knew the games he played. He hadn’t changed.
“Good. I knew you wouldn’t. Not really. Don’t you care how worried I was about you? I thought you’d been taken from me, or that you were dead. Do you know how hard it was for me to see your picture?
When I realised that you left me and hadn’t been taken? Did you know you were pregnant? Of course you did. You stole my son and left me.” I wouldn’t look at him and instead screwed my eyes shut. “Look at me, Anna.”
I immediately opened my eyes and he narrowed his at me; glazed black eyes. “You ran. You told me you loved me, that you wanted a life with me. I trusted you and you broke my heart. If you wanted to come here, I would have brought you. A family, we could have been a family… but we still can. I can provide for you both.”
“A family?” I echoed, my lip involuntarily curling again. “With you?” No. Stop. Think of the baby, don’t. I quietened and smoothed my face to an expressionless mask worn by so many here.
“Just give me a chance. Enough with these games. We need to be together. Nikky loves me, the whole town loves me, I’ve proven that. They don’t need to know about the past; this can be both our new starts.” He was earnest, but I couldn’t even entertain the idea.
The radio: they’d have theirs with them, if only I could get to it. The purple set stared at me from the other side of the room. I didn’t get the chance.
He led me upstairs, and the scab on the memory of my cell and my debasement rubbed away and I festered. Without so much as a complaint from me he had taken my baby and now held him with one arm and my hand with the other. In my bedroom he watched as I changed and fed him. I tried to cover myself, but he removed the blanket and instead focused his attentions on the two of us. He’d sobered up.
He shrugged off his lightweight jacket and pulled me close. I stared at the blank wall with his lips against my ear. Gripping my wrist he pulled my arm against my chest and his other hand rested on my brand, the ruined skin moulding to the shape of his palm, like it belonged.
“Go to sleep, Anna.” It wasn’t a request.
Closing my eyes before the tears escaped I stiffened as he breathed in my scent and planted a kiss on my shoulder.
“God, I’ve missed this. We’re never going to be apart again, I promise.”
We had to be free.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
I didn’t sleep, and neither did Peter. Each time the baby woke to be fed I found him staring at me. Even in the darkness I could see and feel his eyes following me. He didn’t try to talk to me, which unnerved me further.
It was five am when he left. Drawing me into an embrace, he tried to kiss me the way he kissed Anna. Not now. I forcefully jerked away. I didn’t allow my surprise to show when he finally let go and left without a word or even a glance at the baby. It was light outside and I worried that someone would see him leave. Rubbing my now-bruised arms I watched him through the window. He held his head low and took a sharp left into the town and away from his house.
I knew what I needed to do.
Washing and dressing us both, I waited in the living room until Hayley and Glen returned home. All the while I could still smell him all over me. Touching me and possessing me. I’d scrubbed and scrubbed until my skin was a deep and angry red. The burning was an exquisite reminder that I felt, that I was still alive. When Hayley and Glen returned I had bread baking and coffee percolating. She laughed, asking Glen to give her a few minutes and ran upstairs. Glen leaned against the worktop, staring at me.
“What’s happened?”
I continued to wipe the same spot over and over and shook my head. “Nothing, just a rough night is all.”
He didn’t say anything more but removed his gun holster and left the weapon on the kitchen table and went up to Hayley.
Leaving it a few minutes I crept upstairs and into their bedroom, there were giggles and shrieks from the shower in their en-suite and I quickly searched through the top drawer of the bedside cabinet, grabbing the two clips, and crept back down again. I was light-headed, my blood was pounding in my ears, leaving me dizzy. My resolve started to trickle away but, looking across to the basket, my very reason for living reassured me with a light snore and a hiccup that I had to do this. We had to be free.
Lifting him into the pushchair, I left. I walked through the town, winding through the streets and stopping outside the vicarage. I almost stumbled as I hesitated. Rich was standing in the inner porch of the church wearing those designer jeans again, and he was deep in a heated conversation. I heard the voices rise and as he side-stepped a glimpse of Simon and Peter filled my vision. They were all armed – including Rich. Seeing the three of them so close spurred me on. I moved more quickly now, hiding my bag further under the blankets, tickling his covered feet as I did.
It was eight thirty a.m., and the library was open. Strolling in I glanced around and finally saw Nikky organising the worksheets for the day. Looking up, she grinned and rushed over for a hug, almost knocking me off my feet. When she leaned down to the pushchair I almost panicked but she just kissed his sleeping cheek and stood back up.
“So pleased you came back in. There’s a load of new books for you.” Glancing at my desk I estimated there was at least another hundred and nodded. “I’m taking the kids to the beach with Gloria this morning. We’re meeting up with the fishermen and they’re going to give a lecture on safety.”
Alone, in here, with him.
“We should be back around ten. I’m meeting the kids down on the beach with their parents, so I’ll see you shortly.” Kissing my cheek and leaving her burning touch I went to speak, but she was already leaving. Sitting down, I pulled open my drawers and took out the book I had come for: Middlemarch. It needed to be finished.
“Anna.”
My head snapped up. He was standing in the doorway, his dark silhouette accentuated by the sun streaming into the building from behind him. I’d recognise his profile anywhere, how could I not? As he strode over I straightened, but he stopped at the pushchair and glanced down. I forced myself not to panic.
“He looks so much like you now.”
But he has your eyes, I thought.
“I’d like to talk again, like we did last night.”
I nodded: anything to keep him away from the pushchair. He embraced me and I pushed back against him and tried to break free, but his touch was more a restraint than a caress. It brought the memories from before, when he was Will and I was Anna. Lifting up my top he touched the brand and laid his hand flat against the scar. I stilled.
“Let me go.”
And, to my surprise, he did, he stepped back, a ghost of a smile on his face as he pulled up a chair and gestured for me to sit. I did, but the decision was mine and mine alone.
He told me then what happened. He was clearer today, the fog of alcohol burnt away.
“When I came to and you were gone. I thought someone had taken you. The pain was unbearable. I returned to the town and went to Olly, trading for searchers to look for you, for my mark. My every thought was for you, Anna. Only you.”
He touched my knee and I scraped my chair back a little, shaking my head. He removed his hand, leaning forward and taking both of my hands in his instead.
“I drove myself crazy thinking about you and where you might be. Who might have you. Olly sent messages across the network to the Enforcers ensuring you weren’t in any of the town whorehouses. Fuck, the thought of you in there…” he trailed off, shaking his head. “It kills me even now to think of anyone touching you.”
I swallowed down my vitriolic reply. Not now. The silhouette of the pushchair in the corner of my eye was the visual reminder and grounding I needed.
“Simon, he helped me look for you, with the Enforcer network down here and his contacts up north. Months of looking everywhere for a woman named Anna who matched your description. I should have realised, shouldn’t I?” He searched my eyes, still shaking his head as he glanced over at my baby. “Your mark. He saw it and knew then. I came immediately.”
“My mark…” I repeated.
“You have no idea how hard it was seeing you after thinking you were dead, or worse, with someone else.”
All the while he held my hands in his, his placatory stroking gesture infu
riating me. I didn’t resist, though I wanted to. I wanted to hear two words, that was all, but if he said them I knew I would still take this path and be forever damned. Damned, was that right? Haunted perhaps, the way the boy from the field haunted me.
His voice was still soft and his gaze intense. My tooth throbbed and shoulder ached. “Say something, Anna.”
I was doing this for me, for my baby, and for every person who had ever had their liberty stolen away by another human being who believed it their right.
“Morning Katie.” Tom strolled up, his thin figure moving stiffly. He saw the swift movement as Peter withdrew his hands and sat back. “Am I interrupting?”
“No.”
“Yes.”
We spoke at the same time, my voice firm as I shook my head and Peter’s level and cold. He looked over at the older man. Tom dithered at the side of my desk. As I readjusted my top, I caught him staring at the bruises on the tops of my arms.
“Katie, can I have a word?” He jerked his head to the door. I stood by the side of the pushchair and he moved in close. “Yer ok?”
“Fine.”
“Yer sure?”
“I’m good. I’ll come and see you later. It’s probably best if you leave.” I searched his eyes with mine but before he could reply, Peter clamped a hand on his shoulder and spun him around.
“Tom, isn’t it? Good to meet you, but we’re busy here. I’m an old friend of Kate’s, we’re just catching up.”
“Old friends?” Tom coughed repeatedly, bending over and gasping for breath, eventually recovering and standing upright. “Katie’s not mentioned you before.”
Just go Tom, please, just go, you’ll ruin everything.
“Tom, just go.” I escorted him to the door and smiled brightly. “I’m fine.”
He turned to speak to me once more, but I sensed Peter standing behind me.
“I’m Anna,” I murmured, almost too quietly to hear. But I hoped Tom did hear; I wanted him to know, wanted someone to know, just in case.
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