by J. M. Hewitt
I listened to him prattling on. It was the most he’d ever spoken to me since the Heaven’s Gate conversation. Like now, that too had been one-sided. Outwardly, I nodded, but inwardly, I seethed. My mother’s dead body was two feet away, and still it was all about him. As if sensing what I was thinking, he stopped talking and rested his arm on a pillow.
It was strange to touch that mottled, patterned limb. Up close, the scar tissue was clear to see and feel.
Deftly and with such efficiency you would have thought I was a user myself, I wrapped my old belt around the top of his arm. I lifted the end close to his wet mouth.
‘Hold it,’ I instructed.
He did as I asked, biting down on it.
I waited until the veins stood up. I pushed the needle in at an angle.
He watched me, half smiling, his inflated ego apparent on his face. He thought he had me. An easy replacement for my mother. The arrogance. The self-entitled nature of this beast.
As the liquid flowed into him, I saw the moment of change. His eyes widened to large black pools, and for the first time, the only time, the last time ever, I saw fear in them. He knew what I had done; he knew I’d massively overused the fentanyl.
His lower lip trembled, and with all the strength left in him, he ripped his arm from my grasp. His face was a world of shock, of horror and disbelief.
I had hurt his feelings. I uttered a laugh, but it was shaky, bordering on hysterical.
‘Why?’ he bleated, and his words trickled away to a whisper.
I glanced at my mother, at the mess he had made of her over the years. That was why.
He drew a breath, shallow and thin. We watched each other for a while. He blinked rapidly, and a tear trickled out of his left eye.
His next exhalation would be his last, and we both knew it. As it puffed out of him, he spoke my name. It was the first time I could ever remember him saying it. And it would be the last.
‘Paula,’ he breathed.
Chapter 26
Anna kept her eyes closed the whole time Paula was speaking. She didn’t struggle, didn’t attempt to shout.
‘Did you hear me?’ Paula asked when the silence had stretched on for too long. ‘Did you hear what I’m capable of, what I’ve done in the past?’
Anna opened her eyes suddenly, and Paula drew in a sharp breath. Her left pupil was blown; so large that the black covered the blue iris entirely.
She gurgled, and Paula glanced away. It was hard to look at her.
She wondered if Anna would say her name, like Carl had. Suddenly she felt desperately sad.
Why me?
And with that thought, the fury came, just a small wave upon a shore, fluttering inside her in little flashes. Outside, the sky mimicked her emotions and the colours came out again.
‘Look,’ she said. ‘The Northern Lights are back.’
She hefted Anna up and around so the woman was facing the sea, then went down on her knees beside her.
‘They’re really something, aren’t they?’ she said.
Beside her, Anna twitched.
* * *
On the frozen balcony of Anna’s suite, Paula waited. Next to her, Anna sat docile, quiet, still. After a while, the Northern Lights flashed for one last time and dimmed. Beside her, Paula felt Anna stiffen.
She knew it was over.
There was no need to prolong it.
Paula wasn’t a psychopath, after all. This was just like Carl; someone who had done wrong and had to be dealt with. Not a punishment; it wasn’t teaching her a lesson. It was simply the knowledge that the person on the floor in front of her was very, very dangerous and needed to not be here any longer.
Just like Carl.
She braced herself and put out her hand. For a moment it rested lightly on Anna’s wrist before she gripped tightly and rose at the same time.
The smaller woman made no sound as Paula hauled her across the floor in the dim light that glowed from the lamp inside. As she did so, there was a cracking noise, and the strange feeling of Anna’s arm extending further than it should have in Paula’s grip. Paula paused, looked down at her.
Anna’s eye, the one that didn’t have the blown pupil, shimmered in the moonlight.
Paula went down on her knees and pushed at the tiny form in front of her until Anna was balanced on the edge.
I’m sorry. She bit at her lip to stop herself saying the words out loud. The woman didn’t deserve an apology, but the social norms were so deeply ingrained in her that it was habit.
The absurdity of the situation hit her, and now she was biting at her lip to stop herself from laughing.
Don’t get hysterical, she warned herself.
One last push, and Anna’s lower half was dangling overboard.
The broken woman came to life then. With her damaged arm she caught at Paula’s wrist. The pain hissed out from between her teeth. Her body juddered and she slipped further over the edge.
Paula flicked her hand back and forth, trying to shake the woman from her grip. She gritted her teeth and tried to yank her arm free, but Anna held on stubbornly.
No words were spoken; a silent struggle. Paula lay flat on the ground, the cold of the balcony sinking into the front of her body.
Their eyes met, and the stillness of the night was heightened.
Something pushed at the inside of Paula’s mind. The memories of her youth, freed from their self-imposed prison by telling the story of Carl’s death, sprang at her, as bright and vivid as the Northern Lights had been.
‘Oh my God…’ she stuttered. ‘I-I know you.’
Anna’s one good eye, previously sullen, widened in fear.
Paula looked at her properly, amazed that she hadn’t seen it from the start. The woman she’d thought about so much over the years of her childhood, the girl whose life she had coveted. The girl whose life she had stolen with a lie.
Look at her now.
‘Rebecca.’
She said her name, and even though she knew she was right, the expression on Anna’s face verified it.
‘You’re Rebecca,’ she said again, almost shouting now, strangely furious, absurdly let down. ‘I envied you!’
Anna opened her mouth. Her front tooth was chipped, and vaguely Paula wondered when that had happened.
She hauled her up, clenching her jaw with the exertion. Anna flapped across the ground, a fish out of water, her head at an angle, her one good eye staring balefully, accusingly at Paula.
And now I’m the broken one, thought Paula.
Anna shuffled to a sitting position. She cradled her bad arm, inspecting it for outward signs of damage.
‘What happened to you?’ Paula whispered. She remembered the night she’d gone out on the streets to buy heroin for her mother, seeing Rebecca wearing that dress, those heels, looking utterly beautiful, but still oh-so-sad.
Anna lowered her head, her chin to her chest. A childlike gesture, and with that one movement, she told Paula everything she wanted to know.
‘You were still being abused.’ It wasn’t a question, and Paula inhaled sharply at the realisation.
Slowly, Anna pulled herself to a standing position. Paula cringed back against the cold white wall of the balcony. The exertion it must have taken, the strength… Beneath her coat, she felt her heart thumping. Now it was the end, because this woman’s strength was superhuman, ongoing. Nothing could destroy it, not a broken arm, not being blinded in one eye, not half starving herself to the point of collapse.
The tables had turned, suddenly, without warning. And Paula was weary now, so she closed her eyes and waited.
A clang of metal on metal. She opened her eyes. Anna was holding onto the railing to her left, her bracelet making contact with the frame. She stood in the gap, and she smiled now, and Paula saw what she was going to do.
She understood. Anna – Rebecca – couldn’t stand to have someone know that the front she had put up was just that. Pretence, a fake life.
Paula shrieke
d, some part of her still obsessed with the young girl she’d never actually known. Because she understood, she’d been there too.
She darted forward, hands out, fingers grasping at air, staring in horror at Anna’s pale bone-china face, her eyes closed, her expression no longer hard, no longer falsely friendly, no longer calculating or plotting or deceiving.
She was serene.
The splash was minuscule and the pale face remained, tilted upwards, just for a second or two, before it was swallowed by the black water.
* * *
Later, freshly showered and dry and warm, wearing her own coat now, Paula stood in the doorway where hours earlier, she had prepared to alight the ship for a day in Iceland.
How things can change in a few hours, she thought as she watched the staff and the police milling around.
Beyond them, torchlight bobbed on the edge of the forest. She heard her own name called, far in the distance, and smiled to herself.
This is it.
She pushed herself off the door frame and strode out onto the deck.
He was on his own. Clusters of people stood near him but kept a good distance away. Dermot was there, one hand on the rail, speaking into his mobile phone, casting anxious glances across the landscape, where the police and the public searched diligently.
Tommy looked lost, and she slowed her step. It was interesting, watching him like this. He must have been freezing cold, but he didn’t move like the others. They switched from one foot to the other, cuffs pulled over hands, arms wrapped around themselves. He didn’t move a muscle. He stood immobile, staring out, his face dragging seemingly with sadness.
She moved up behind him and put her hand on his arm.
‘What’s the hold-up?’ she asked, striving for impatience in her tone. ‘Shouldn’t we have set sail by now?’
He stared at her for long moments. His eyes widened, his hand went haltingly to his mouth, where it hesitated, suspended in mid-air, before darting out and gripping her shoulder.
‘Where have you been?’ he hissed.
He grabbed her other shoulder with his left hand, and his fingers dug in painfully. She felt her sadness go up a notch. Anyone else’s husband would have wrapped them in a bear hug, but his reaction seemed to be one of anger.
‘Jesus, Paula!’ Dermot stepped up and laid a hand on the back of her neck.
A different touch to that of her husband, she realised. She wriggled out of the grip of both men. The contrasting contacts were a reminder of what she had and what she was missing.
‘What’s going on?’ she asked.
Tommy’s mouth worked, but words seemed to escape him.
Dermot cleared his throat. ‘We thought you’d got lost. Everyone’s out looking for you.’
She frowned and tilted her head to one side. ‘How could I get lost,’ she asked, ‘when I never even left the ship?’ It was a risky statement; after all, there had been the group of walkers she had originally set out with. They hadn’t paid much attention to her, though, and she could always say she’d changed her mind and come straight back.
‘You didn’t leave the ship?’ Tommy spoke between gritted teeth.
She shook her head and glanced at her watch. ‘No, too cold.’ She smiled brightly at him. ‘Did you have a good time? Did you go to the thermal lake? Hey, did you see the Northern Lights? They were fantastic!’
He took her arm and squeezed it. ‘I don’t think you realise the trouble you’ve caused,’ he said, his words sharp and clipped. ‘The police have been called.’
She barked out a laugh and looked around at the people who had gathered beside them, all wanting to catch a glimpse of the woman who had walked into the wilderness and come back seemingly unscathed.
‘Who on earth called the police?’ she asked, feigning amazement.
‘I did.’ His jaw was clenched, and his face, only moments ago sagging with sadness, was now stony.
‘You reported me missing to the police and held up everyone’s journey home?’ she asked, incredulous. ‘And all that time I’ve been on board!’
His nostrils flared. She pressed on, the desire to see him look small and stupid growing by the second. The sudden power she held was intoxicating. ‘You must feel so silly!’
It was the very first time in their relationship that she thought he might hit her. She locked eyes with him. Did he see her now? Did he see the person she had suppressed for all of her adult life?
The captain appeared, and Dermot hurried over to him. She watched him duck his head as he spoke to him. The police came on board not long afterwards. She listened as Tommy explained to them haltingly that she had been located safe and sound.
‘I haven’t actually been off the ship,’ she chipped in. ‘I came out here earlier, but it was too cold for me.’
Their gazes lingered not on her, but on Tommy, expressions of quiet fury on their faces at the time he had caused them to waste. Tommy’s face blazed bright red.
Satisfied, she wandered back through the doors. He fell into step beside her. At the elevator, she pressed the down button.
‘What’re you doing?’ he asked.
‘I’m going to get some dinner,’ she replied. ‘It’s been a long time since lunch.’
His lips flapped uselessly as he fought for words. ‘Don’t you think you should tell me what happened? Where you’ve been?’ he asked roughly, his voice granite and steel, cold and black.
She sighed. ‘You made an error, Tommy. I’m sorry if you feel stupid, but that’s not my fault.’
He blinked at her, speechless.
The lift doors swished open. She went inside and pressed the button for the restaurant, leaving him outside in the hallway, something else on his face now as he gazed in disbelief at the stranger in front of him.
* * *
She piled her plate high from the buffet and took a seat in the corner of the restaurant. It was late, and there were not many other people in there. Those who were finishing their meals cast glances at her, but nobody approached her table.
The tannoy crackled and sparked into life. Paula paused and lifted her head to listen.
‘Good evening, fellow passengers, we are truly sorry for the delay in setting sail this evening, and we thank you for your patience. The Ruby Spirit is now ready to leave…’ A pause, as though the captain expected a cheer or a rapturous round of applause. ‘We will be easing out of Skarfabakki harbour and travelling at a rate of around eighteen to twenty knots.
‘Our next sky-bound adventure will be seen in the early hours of tomorrow morning, when Jupiter and Venus will be visible in conjunction. This usually takes place roughly once a year, but tomorrow will be your second chance this year to witness this special event.
‘These two planets are actually millions of miles apart from each other, but to the naked eye, they will appear to be as close as you can get.’
Paula let out an ironic laugh. The captain could have been describing her and Tommy. To the outside world, they were in perfect sync. Reality was another matter.
Stabbing her fork into her plate of food, she ate ravenously, unable to remember the last time she had let herself enjoy a meal with such abandon. What a waste, she thought, to deprive herself of something so wonderful for so long. And what had it been for?
No, not what, but who?
She thought of Anna, how rarely she had eaten, and how small and brittle her body had been. Who had she been dieting for?
That wasn’t a diet, though, what Anna had been doing. It was a whole other ball game.
A memory, a recent one, flickered in Paula. Heaving Anna across the balcony, feeling the snap of her arm. The tears had sprung to Anna’s one good eye then, and Paula had watched, mesmerised, knowing that the broken woman on the ground in front of her probably hadn’t cried real tears in an awfully long time.
Her stomach turned over. The last of the lasagne refused to be swallowed. She chugged back a glass of water and put her fork down.
She tried to
push the thought away, dismiss the recollection that quite suddenly threatened to overwhelm her. But that was what she had done with Carl, and it had been an error.
She swivelled in her chair and looked out to the dark black sea. She lowered her head and let the awareness in.
Chapter 27
Before
I never told anyone what really happened the night I found my mother dead in our house. Of course, some of it was known. Once Carl was dead, I dialled 999, stuttering over whether I needed the police or an ambulance.
‘I found them like that,’ I told the policemen as they surveyed the two dead people in my mother’s bedroom.
Most of it was true. I hadn’t moved my mother, and Carl remained where he had died. The only anomaly was the needle, now resting in his cold, stiff fingers instead of where it had been.
In mine.
‘What time did you arrive?’ they asked me.
‘Just before I called you,’ I replied.
I thought of the neighbours, but didn’t worry that they had seen me. Nobody saw me. Nobody ever had.
I watched them take my mother and Carl out. They loaded them into a private ambulance. I felt an absurd need to wave. At the last moment, I saw Kevin smoking in his front garden.
He locked eyes with me, just for a moment. I nodded to him. He tilted his cigarette in return.
‘Sorry,’ he mouthed.
I nodded again, slipped inside and closed the door behind me.
* * *
Later, after the funeral, I returned to Edinburgh.
He was there, the boy I had been dating. We spent the night in his room, in an apartment off-campus.
He didn’t ask where I had been. I felt no need to tell him. Later, when things were serious, I would say my mother had died, and I’d never known my father. Later, I would tell many people this fact. It covered my history nicely, and it was rare that anybody probed further.