by Julia Blake
‘Leave the poor girl alone, Scott, just because you get piles from sitting on the fence, it doesn’t mean to say everyone else has to as well.’
‘I do not sit on the fence,’ Scott retorted, yet a smile tugged at his mouth. ‘Just because I’m cautious, like to weigh up all my options before making a decision and don’t jump straight in with both feet, unlike some I could mention.’ Several eyes swivelled towards Ferdie, who held up his hands and laughed.
‘Guilty as charged, I’m afraid I’m one of those people, Eve, who simply love to rush in where angels fear to tread.’
‘A strategy which has got you in deep doo doo on more than one occasion,’ remarked Annaliese dryly, and Ferdie shrugged carelessly.
‘It’s more fun that way,’ he retorted flippantly, then bounded over to put on another DVD.
Finally, the evening began to draw to a close. I could hardly keep my eyes open, looking around, saw a sleepy Mimi being helped to her feet by Andrew. ‘Goodnight, Eve,’ she murmured from the safe harbour of her husband’s arms. ‘I hope we see you again soon.’
‘Goodnight,’ I replied, and watched as Annaliese tenderly kissed Mimi on the cheek.
‘Sleep well, darling, I’ll see you in the morning.’ Mimi nodded and they left the room, I realised they must be staying the night. Miles and Ferdie pressed friendly kisses to my cheek, wished me goodnight, before heading in the direction of the stairs. Coldness gripped me, in the euphoria of the evening it had totally slipped my mind to wonder how on earth I was getting home.
‘Come on, Eve,’ Scott reappeared with our now dry coats. ‘I’ll give you a lift back.’
‘Oh, thank you,’ I cried with relief. ‘I’d better go and change back into my clothes.’
Shedding Eve along with Annaliese’s beautiful clothes, I felt like a snake sloughing its skin, or maybe a chameleon, changing its appearance to blend in with its surroundings. Reluctantly, I put Melissa back on, trailing despondently downstairs to find Annaliese and Scott waiting for me.
‘Darling, Eve,’ exclaimed Annaliese, enfolding me into a warm, friendly hug. ‘Don’t wait for an invitation next time, please feel free to drop in whenever you want. If you can’t get here, just call me,’ she pressed a piece of paper with various phone numbers scribbled on into my hand. ‘There’ll always be someone around to come and collect you.’
‘Thank you,’ I replied, hugging her back with enthusiasm. ‘Thank you for a wonderful evening and for the food, it was all lovely, sorry I haven’t returned your shoes yet.’
‘Bring them with you next time,’ dismissing them, she turned to hug Scott. ‘Now, you drive carefully,’ she admonished.
Outside, it’d finally stopped raining and the wind had blown away the clouds, leaving the stars burning in an endless, inky black sky. I tipped my head heavenwards, felt the night air on my flushed cheeks, tried to remember the last time I’d felt so good. In the car, the blanket of contentment still surrounded me and I beamed at Scott as he started the engine and pulled on his seatbelt. ‘Had fun?’ he asked, and I nodded in enthusiastic assent.
‘Oh, yes, it was marvellous. You’re wonderful, all of you,’ I declared. ‘I love everyone, Miles, Mimi and Andrew, and Ferdie and Robert and of course Annaliese, I just love them all.’
‘And me?’ he asked, amusement in his voice.
‘Of course you as well.’ I exclaimed, realising how very drunk I was, also realising I didn’t care. ‘Tonight was like a dream come true, like something out of a fairytale.’
‘Well, come on then Cinderella,’ he answered, putting the car in gear and pulling away into the darkness. ‘It’s time your pumpkin coach got you back to reality.’
‘Oh, but I don’t want to go home,’ I pouted in the darkness; felt, rather than saw, his long considering look.
‘You’ll be back,’ he finally said, and for a moment I thought I heard something buried deep beneath his normal calmness. ‘You’re part of the group now, so you’ll definitely be back.’
‘Part of the group,’ I echoed his words. ‘I want to be, but...’
‘But what?’
‘I’m not sure I’m good enough. You, Annaliese, all of you, you’re all so beautiful, glamorous and sophisticated and so... well, so grown up.’
There was a long silence and then he sighed. ‘How old are you, Eve?’
‘Nineteen,’ I replied, sulky at the condescension I fancied I heard in his voice.
‘Nineteen,’ he repeated and laughed. ‘You’re so young and have a lot of growing up to do, Eve. If you use Annaliese as your role model you won’t go far wrong.’ I was silenced by the love I heard in his voice when he spoke of her, felt a hot jolt of jealousy, the tiniest twinge of resentment towards Annaliese. I huddled on my side of the car and tried to understand the conflicting emotions which warred inside.
The bright lights of town all too quickly bathed the car in a yellow glow and Scott glanced at me, his profile chiselled and perfect in the unnatural light. ‘Where do you live?’
Quietly, I gave directions, until we finally pulled up outside the dingy run down Victorian house that had been converted into six flats, one of them ours. I flinched, seeing it through his eyes, comparing it with the perfect gorgeous home we’d just left and jumped out quickly, wanting it over with now, wanting him to go as fast as possible. I felt the last vestiges of Eve slip away as his window glided down and he called to me. ‘Eve.’
At the doorway I turned, his face was in the shadow of the building, the permanently broken streetlight plunging this part of the road in darkness. ‘Yes?’
‘Come back to us. Don’t be put off by your insecurities. I... we all liked you, and I know Annaliese is already very fond of you, please, don’t hurt her by disappearing again.’ I hesitated, nodded, then realised he probably couldn’t see me, so replied quietly.
‘Ok... goodnight.’
‘Goodnight, Eve, take care of yourself.’
I let myself into the building, heard the low purr of the car’s engine as it pulled away. My hands shook as I unlocked the flimsy door to the flat, in the darkness walking straight into a pile of boxes, muttered curses as I rapped my shin on a sharp corner and fumbled for the lamp. Light flooded the squalid room and I realised the pile had grown quite considerably since morning.
Getting ready for bed, I looked at the girl in the mirror, at the light dancing in her eyes, her flushed cheeks, her mouth parted on a breathy sigh. Who was she? Eve or Melissa? Who was I?
It occurred to me in order to get what I wanted, in order to become part of Annaliese’s world; Melissa had to die, I had to reinvent myself as Eve. A woman who took things in her stride, could hold her own with Annaliese’s friends, no, I corrected myself, with my friends. A woman who wasn’t afraid to face up to facts, not bury her head in the hope bad things would go away.
I wandered back into the lounge, bare feet silent on the matted and threadbare carpet. I curled up on the sofa, no longer tired, instead thinking, staring at the whorls and shapes in the faded carpet until my eyes swam.
The sink in the little kitchenette was piled high with frying pans and crockery, Mike had obviously had a fry up at some point and left it all to soak, a thin scummy crust of fat staining the already disreputable washing up bowl. I decided to clean up first. Coward, taunted Eve. No I’m not, Melissa retorted, I just want the place to be tidy.
Pulling on rubber gloves, I swallowed down my distaste and gingerly pulled the slippery plates from the cold slimy liquid, scrubbing them in hot soapy water until they gleamed. I dried them carefully, put them away in the single cupboard, made myself a cup of tea and sat down on the sofa, my bare feet cold beneath me, sipping slowly at its hotness, delaying the inevitable until I’d finished, rinsed and dried the cup up, and had no further excuses.
I chose the sharpest knife I could find, stood for a momen
t, listening. Do it, ticked the clock on the wall; do it, hissed the silence. I stepped forward, suddenly galvanised into action, chose the box in the furthest corner, hesitated, returned to the kitchen and pulled back on the gloves. Carefully, I slit along the taped edge, eased open a gap big enough for me to see through. The gleaming silver front of a bubble wrapped PC stared back at me and what I’d half suspected and feared was confirmed.
Carefully, still wearing the gloves, I took a roll of tape from the drawer and re-sealed the box, smoothing it down so there was no sign it had ever been tampered with, returned the knife and gloves to the kitchen, then I went to bed.
Just before dawn, Mike crawled into bed beside me. I could smell he’d been drinking, shrank away from him, hoping he’d had so much he’d just fall asleep, but felt with a sinking heart rough hands pushing up my nightgown. I mumbled and rolled over, pretended I was still asleep, ignored his whispered declarations of love, praying he’d give up and leave me alone, but the hands became more insistent. Eventually, I surrendered, parted my legs and gave him Melissa, allowed him to do what he wanted to her, separated myself from it, listened with detached amusement to his grunts and groans, whilst Eve went far away and made plans, wonderful glorious plans for her future.
Finally, he finished, rolled off Melissa, dropped into sleep like a stone. I slid from bed and into the bathroom, washed every trace of him from my body, got dressed for work. Slowly, I pulled on my best trousers and top, half clipped my hair up at the sides, paid careful attention to my make-up, applied lip liner and mascara, frowned at the bluntness of my black eyeliner, rummaged at the bottom of my make-up bag for a sharpener, wondered how come, no matter how carefully you sharpened them, eye liners were never as good again as they were when first new.
I crept back into the bedroom. Undercover of Mike’s earth shaking snores, I eased Annaliese’s shoes from the wardrobe, placed them carefully into the bottom of my largest handbag into which I also tipped my few pieces of jewellery. I left the flat, silently closing the door behind me, leaving Mike still sleeping.
It was so early. I wandered easily into town, stopping at the café for a cup of tepid coffee and a bacon sandwich, opening up the local paper which I found lying on the table. ‘Thieves get away with thousands’ screamed the headline. I smiled, a thin smile of amusement, before I paid for my breakfast and slowly made my way to the nearest phone box.
Afterward, I went to the park and sat amongst the flowers, heard the silence, felt the birdsong, knew I was late for work, but didn’t care. The heavy rain of the night before had swept away the bad weather and the sun was hopeful in the sky. It warmed my chilly blood.
Eventually I got up, dropped the newspaper into the nearest bin and ambled through town to work because I could think of nowhere else to go. At the entrance I stopped, the mid-morning sun now hot on my cheek, my hand actually on the door, when something inside suddenly snapped. Life is too short to waste time doing something you don’t like, Annaliese’s words echoed in my head and my hand fell slowly back to my side.
Then, abandoning Melissa and all she stood for at the door, I turned and walked away. Now brisk and purposeful, my footsteps rang out with focused determination on the pavement.
It was done. It was time for Eve to go home.
Chapter Four
Esther
Gradually, my pace slowed and I looked around, enjoying the sensation of not being at work. Usually, at this time in the morning I am entrenched in a large open plan office which never sees the light of day, in which you have no privacy, nowhere to escape to, not even for a few minutes.
I raised my head, gazed with interest at a very different town from the one I was used to, quieter, less frenzied than lunchtime, when everyone charged in and out of shops and sandwich bars with set ‘don’t bother me I’m in too much of a hurry’ faces. Now it appeared the domain of mothers, pushing small children in mud splattered buggies with rain hoods and covers folded back, in case this sudden burst of fine weather turned out to be a temporary state of affairs.
I walked on, leaving the town centre behind, crossing confidently at the lights, knowing where I’m heading, not caring it’s quite a walk, seeing it almost as a symbolic journey from my old life to my new. I walked through the suburbs, looked with interest at the ranks of neat identical houses, seeing the various ways in which their occupants had attempted to personalise them. I smiled with pleasure at a garden ablaze with summer perennials, shiny and fresh faced from all the recent rain, stooped to stroke a friendly black cat, which left its lookout point on a wall and jumped down to weave between my legs.
Eventually, I left the town behind and walked along country lanes, made dangerous by the absence of pavements and the speed at which the regular flow of traffic roared down them. I knew somewhere there was a bridle path leading over the fields and through the woods and looked out for it, finally spotting with relief the wooden signpost pointing the way, pleased to be off the roads and into the calm, quiet greenness of the countryside.
The morning passed. Still I walked. Not knowing what time it was, not caring, enjoying the rarest sensation of freedom, a gladness of spirit which I’d never felt before. Rabbits leapt and I stopped for a moment, leant on a fence, watched as they played in the midday sun. I entered the woods, its cool shadiness a welcome relief after the heat of the day. I marvelled how changeable weather could be; torrential downpour one day; balmy summer weather the next.
A piece of gravel had worked its way into my shoe and I rested for a moment on a fallen tree to remove it, amazed I felt no weariness, remembering the bone numbing tiredness I would probably be experiencing right now were I at work. I wondered if anyone had missed me or even asked where I was. It surprised me I felt no fear at the thought no one knew where I was, instead the sensation of having stepped outside of normal time and space liberated me.
I travelled on, leaving the woods and skirting the edge of a cornfield, before turning back onto the road and passing through the large ornate gates which stood welcomingly wide open. The Hall slumbered before me, its windows glinting blindly in the sun and I felt my heart leap at the thought of seeing Annaliese again. For the first time I wondered if I’d done the right thing, turning up unannounced, but it was too late now, I’d journeyed too far to turn back and pulled resolutely on the brass bell, heard the loud jangling echo through the Hall, waited. Long minutes later, I pulled the bell again, heard its strident demanding tones as it informed them of my arrival. Still no one came, it dawned on me the Hall was empty, no one home.
I sank down on the step, felt the cold marble clutch at my skin through the thin material of my trousers. Not once in the whole journey had it occurred to me I would arrive to find the Hall closed and empty. Perhaps in my mind, I so associated Annaliese with her home the thought of her leaving it was incomprehensible. I wondered what to do next, felt tears of disappointment prick at the back of my eyes, then decided, for want of a better plan, to wait for a while.
Time passed and I squirmed uncomfortably on the step, my bottom numb from the hardness of my seat, intensely aware I would soon have to go to the toilet. I wondered what to do and stood up, once more trying the bell in the vain hope this time someone would come, but there was nothing. I decided to walk around the Hall and try the kitchen door.
It was a long walk. By the time I reached the stout oak door which led to the kitchen quarters, my need to pee had become more pressing. I looked around the parkland, deciding a shady tree might be my only option. Because I was there, not from any real optimism, I tried the kitchen door. To my surprise, it was unlocked, slowly, I creaked it open, called out.
‘Hello, anybody home? Annaliese, it’s Eve, hello?’ There was silence. I had the absurd idea the Hall was holding its breath, waiting, watching. I entered, closed the door behind me, decided to use the facilities, knowing Annaliese wouldn’t mind, would probably find it funny.
; Gratefully, I used the cloakroom off the kitchen, washed my hands with expensive rose hand soap, rubbed matching hand cream into my dry skin. My nose tickled from the almost overpowering scent and I smiled at myself when I had to wrap a piece of tissue round the door handle in order to turn it, because my hands were slippery from too much lotion.
I wandered down the hallway, unsure what to do and perched on the bottom stair. Next moment stiffened as a sound, far away and almost imperceptible, touched the very edges of my hearing. I listened hard, straining to hear. There was nothing beyond the pulsing silence and my own suddenly pounding heartbeat.
No, there it was again. I climbed a few steps, listened, turned my head, tried to pinpoint its exact location – definitely a sound, a yell maybe, coming from upstairs. I hesitated, not wanting to pry, yet something in that cry snagged at me, dragged me up more stairs. The cry came again, muffled, as if behind closed doors, unquestionably human, coming from somewhere upstairs.
Quickly, I climbed to the top of the stairs, hesitated, casting about for the right direction, before setting off purposefully down the landing as the yell sounded again. Going through another door at the far end, I made my way cautiously up a shallow flight of stairs, paused outside a door, listened as the scream echoed through the wood, gripping my emotions and drenching me in cold sweaty panic, my heart jack-hammering with fear at the inhuman gasping, sobbing wails.
‘Hello, is there anyone in there?’ Tentatively, I knocked at the door, heard an answering groan and a faintly whispered plea for help. Quickly, I threw the door open and entered the room, a bedroom, subtly sophisticated in silvery blues and creams. It was at the back of the house, so the bright midday sun which so bathed the front of the Hall in glory had yet to penetrate through the still drawn, thick curtains draped over the full length windows.