by Jade Winters
‘Chill out. I’m just making conversation.’
‘I know and I’m sorry for biting your head off,’ Carissa said. ‘I think Lara’s stroppiness is starting to rub off on me.’
‘Give the woman a break. Lara’s a free spirit,’ Trudi observed. ‘She’s never going to be happy doing a mundane nine to five. I’m surprised she’s held out this long. You should just tell her to quit. Give her your blessing.’
Carissa rolled her eyes. ‘It’s the job she said she always wanted, and it pays well. Her salary is the only thing keeping us afloat at the moment. I can’t afford to give her my blessing.’
‘Maybe that’s what’s causing the friction between you both.’
‘I didn’t say there was any friction between us, it’s just … oh I don’t know … things will sort themselves out.’
‘Have you thought of moving back to your mum’s until you get on your feet?’ Trudi’s voice faltered a little. ‘Give you both some space.’
‘We don’t need space, Trudi.’ Her tone was curter than she had intended. Carissa swallowed down her annoyance and softened her voice. ‘If Lara’s really unhappy with her job, then, of course, I’ll support her if she wants to quit. I just think she should give it a real chance before she does something impulsive.’
‘Are you two still having sex?’ Trudi asked out of the blue.
‘For God’s sake!’
‘What?’ Trudi asked innocently. ‘We’re both adults. Surely we can talk about—’
‘Not while I’m on the bus we can’t. Look, I have to go now. It’s my stop.’
‘Really, Carissa, you can be so prickly about these things.’
‘I’ll speak to you later, okay?’
‘Fine. Give Lara my love.’
‘Will do.’
Ten minutes later the bus came to a stop outside Highbury and Islington Station and Carissa quickly disembarked. She zigzagged her way through the crowded street, only stopping when she got to Tesco. Rushing through the aisles, Carissa decided on what she would cook for lunch on the fly. She was good at putting together pasta dishes so she decided to stick to her strengths and go for a simple pasta dish. She bought prawns, a packet of spaghetti, onions, garlic, a tin of tomatoes, and a bottle of white wine. The wine pushed her ten pounds over her spending limit, but Carissa reasoned that you couldn’t put a price on a romantic afternoon.
Once Carissa had paid for her shopping, she headed straight for home, grateful that it was only a ten-minute walk. Her building was a cramped little block of flats that had been squeezed in between a launderette with yellow washing machines and a Marvel figurine collection shop that had a life-size figure of Superman on display in the front window. What wasn’t advertised was the fact the owner sold pirate adult DVDs from under the counter.
Carissa entered her building and pressed the button for the lift. The button failed to illuminate to indicate it was on its way down.
‘Come on!’ she cursed as she pressed the button again.
‘I wouldn’t bother. It’s out of order.’ Dean, her six-feet tall neighbour startled her.
‘Again?’
‘’Fraid so. Mike from maintenance came this morning,’ Dean continued. ‘He said he’d have it fixed in three days.’
‘Knowing him, it’ll probably be six,’ Carissa said, rolling her eyes.
Dean shrugged nonchalantly. Carissa nodded goodbye and started on the three flights of stairs it took to reach her flat. The moment she reached her floor, she knew that Lara was out of bed as meditation music sounded through the door. Carissa inserted her key in the lock and attempted to turn it right. The key remained static. Great, just what I need.
‘Lara,’ Carissa shouted. ‘Can you open the door, please? My key’s jammed again.’
It took a few more calls for Lara to answer the door, and when she did her face was drawn and her eyes looked everywhere but at Carissa. Assuming Lara was still annoyed because she had left that morning, Carissa let out a frustrated breath as she wiggled the key in the lock then pulled it out.
‘I didn’t expect you back so soon,’ Lara said, taking a bag of shopping from Carissa.
‘Neither did I. My interview was cancelled and no one bothered to tell me. Anyway, we’ve got food and wine.’
Carissa stepped over the threshold and stopped short when she realised there were two small suitcases sitting in the middle of the minuscule space between the kitchen and the sofa. She pulled off her coat, tossed it on the chair and turned to Lara.
‘Why are the suitcases out?’ she asked in confusion.
‘I’m leaving.’
‘Leaving?’ Carissa repeated. ‘On a business meeting? Oh no. I hope we’ve got time—’
‘It’s not ….’ Lara looked distinctly uncomfortable and Carissa was starting to get the feeling that she was missing something.
‘It’s not what, Lara?’ Carissa pushed. Adrenaline pricked her skin. She sensed whatever Lara said next would pull the rug from beneath her world.
Lara set the shopping bag down on the dining table and turned to Carissa. ‘It’s not a business meeting,’ she said. ‘I’m going to India.’
Her words landed like a punch in the gut. ‘Excuse me … you’re going where?’
‘India. To live in a communal retreat. The truth is, I haven’t been happy for a long time,’ she continued, in a voice that cried out for understanding. ‘I feel stifled and claustrophobic here. I need to get out of London. I need to find myself.’
‘What the hell are you on about?’ Carissa demanded, feeling as though she had stepped into the twilight zone. ‘What about your job?’ And me?
‘I quit.’
‘You quit?’
‘It wasn’t working out for me.’ Lara rubbed the back of her neck. ‘I wasn’t happy there, you know that.’
‘No, what I do know is that you barely gave it a shot.’
‘Are you kidding? I wasted five months of my life working for those wankers,’ Lara went on. ‘Well, not anymore. I’m done with this nine-to-five rat race.’
Carissa swallowed painfully when she realised that the apartment had been emptied of Lara’s belongings. Her walking boots were no longer by the door next to Carissa’s. Her Eckhart Tolle books were absent from the coffee table and all her clothes that were usually strewn carelessly about the apartment had been magically cleared away.
Carissa looked at the suitcases that stood between them. Lara had packed up her life without a thought as to how it would affect Carissa. She hadn’t even bothered to give her time to process her devastating decision. Lara had sprung it on her as though she were merely an afterthought.
‘You’re really leaving?’ Carissa asked in a strained voice as she envisaged a life without Lara.
‘Yes.’
Bile and fear rose in Carissa’s throat and she quickly swallowed it down. She felt dizzy. Disorientated. Like she had stood up too quickly. ‘And you’re going to India?’
‘Yes.’
‘Were you even going to tell me?’ Carissa asked, fighting back the tears welling in her eyes. The reality of the situation was finally beginning to sink in. ‘Or were you planning on leaving me with the memory of having my nipple frozen by an ice cube?’
‘I … of course I was going to tell you. I wasn’t going to just sneak out,’ Lara said, her voice faltering a little as she picked at a stray thread hanging from her shirt. ‘I do love you, Carissa, but it’s not enough. I want more.’
Anger threatened to choke her. ‘More?’
‘Yes, more. Look at people our age. They’re living the dream. Working in jobs they love—’
‘Jesus, Lara, the way you’re talking you’d think we didn’t have a lifetime ahead of us to do all those things.’
‘I don’t want to take things for granted. Look what happened to my mum. Always making plans about what she was going to do “one day”. But that day never came for her, did it? She died before she could do anything. Well, that’s not going to happen to me.’
Carissa roughly wiped away a single tear drop that rolled down her cheek. In her mind, she was screaming, but the only sound emitted from her mouth was a pitiful whine. It was as if she was out of her body, floating above herself, watching the interaction happen between two other people—another couple, in someone else’s flat. But the packed case told her that she wasn’t a spectator. The interaction was between Lara and herself. About their relationship. ‘I can’t believe you’re doing this.’
‘Come on, Carissa. I don’t want to hurt you. I thought you’d understand my need to do what’s right for me.’ Lara took a step towards her, arms outstretched as if she believed that Carissa would run straight into them. Carissa stepped back. The only thing she wanted to do was to hurl herself on the sofa and sob uncontrollably until Lara came to her senses.
‘Please don’t take it personally. It’s me, not you—’
‘How the hell can it not be about me?’ Carissa exhaled deeply. ‘But I get it. You need to go and find yourself in some fantasy world, where unicorns exist and pigs fly on fluffy white clouds. So go. The door’s there. Use it.’
‘Carissa ….’
While confusion and turmoil stirred in Carissa, Lara radiated a calmness that spoke volumes. It was obvious that this wasn’t a sudden decision on her part, rather one that had been planned for some time. But how long? That was one thing Carissa wouldn’t dare ask. If she did, it would beg the question: How long had they been living a lie? A month? Six months? A year even?
The words spoken could not be undone. Not now. The genie was out of the bottle and it was out for good.
She mentally pulled back and swallowed down her emotions. ‘Why don’t you do what’s best for us both and just go.’
For a moment they stared at each other in silence. The crack between them widening by the second. If Lara didn’t leave soon, Carissa thought she might crumble. She bit back the urge to say anymore. What was the point? Words were empty. Devoid of any hope or promise. All she would be doing was saying the same thing over and over again. The sentences might sound different but, in essence, they boiled down to the same thing. How can you leave if you love me? Why would you hurt me like this? No, airing any more grievances wouldn’t change anything, nor would it take back the fact that their three-year relationship had dissipated in a matter of minutes.
Lara took her cases by their handles and wheeled them to the door without saying a word. She took one last glance over her shoulder, then disappeared out of sight, leaving Carissa to an unmade meal and a flat she could no longer afford to keep.
Chapter Two
Teal focused her attention on the colour of Alana’s eyes, trying to capture the essence of what had drawn her to Alana in the first place. The eyes that stared back at her held something secretive about them. Like they were always one step ahead of the game. But that was Alana all over, she had the uncanny ability to read Teal like an open book. It was frustrating at times but, more often than not, it was a comfort. Teal drew frantically, trying to freeze Alana in the moment but it was too late. The vision in her mind’s eye had disappeared.
Teal looked down at the sketch she had drawn. For a split second, she had actually believed she’d managed to recapture her friend’s spirit. But staring at the careless lines and the unfocused contouring of her eyes, Teal realised that she had missed the mark yet again. Frustrated, she tore the piece of paper from her sketchpad and scrunched it up in her fist. She had wanted to see Alana’s gaze just one more time … the last time.
To her right, she heard the train before it came into view. How ironic, the 9.30 train was actually going to be on time today. Teal put her pad into her bag then pushed herself to her feet. To an onlooker, she appeared to be any other early morning commuter; tired, miserable and with her shoulders hunched. From the outside, no one would be able to see her inner turmoil.
The molecules in the air thickened as she began to move forward. One numb foot in front of another. Teal knew exactly how many steps it would take to reach the platform’s edge. Ten. Ten tiny steps to freedom. To living a life free of pain and heartache.
One. This wasn’t the first time she had made the decision to rid herself of earthly worries. Three. She had changed her mind so many times, always thinking the next day would be better, but it wasn’t. For too long she’d endured the agony of grief. Five. Each day without Alana was like living without the sun. The once orderly cycle of her life thrown into an abyss.
Six. For the past five months, Teal had been surviving on a massive overdose of disorientation and helplessness. Normal ceased to exist. Alana, her best friend, the woman she had shared her secrets, hopes and dreams with … was gone. Since her tragic death caused by a car accident, Alana’s bedroom which was adjacent to Teal’s, remained exactly as it had been the day she had innocently popped out to buy a bottle of wine.
How could Teal have known that would be the last time she’d see her alive?
Ten. Teal teetered over the edge of the platform. She zoned in on an elderly lady she caught staring intently at her. At first glance, the woman’s thin body seemed frail, but on closer inspection, the look in her translucent eyes was one of steely determination.
‘Are you all right dear?’
‘I ... I ....’ Teal replied in an almost inaudible voice. I don’t want to talk to anyone. I want to be left alone. I want to see … Alana.
The woman shuffled closer and rested her bony hand on Teal’s forearm. Teal didn’t know if this was out of kindness or whether the woman was using her as an anchor to stay upright. When the woman spoke again, Teal knew it was compassion.
‘I know we don’t have much time, so I’ll get straight to the point. No matter what pain we’re in there’s something inside us much stronger than the pain itself.’ Her voice was thick with a tone Teal couldn’t discern. ‘Just when we think we’ve reached the end of the line and there’s nowhere else to turn, miracles can happen.’
‘I’m sorry I don’t know—’
‘Yes, you do. I recognise the look in your eyes. It’s the same look that once stared back at me in the mirror. Believe me, I know life is messy.’ The woman looked thoughtful for a moment then pushed up the sleeve of her jacket. Teal let out a soft gasp as she took in the sight of a thick jagged scar on the woman’s wrist. ‘But life can also be wonderful. Everything you think is wrong now will pass eventually. It has to. Nothing is static. Your life can turn around in a matter of—’
The woman’s words were drowned out by the screeching brakes of a train on the opposite track. A trickle of sweat ran down Teal’s temple.
Everything will pass.
Could she truly believe that? That the constant pain her heart felt would eventually heal?
Teal looked into the woman’s eyes and for a moment she actually believed her. The stranger was a survivor, from what adversity Teal didn’t know, but the fact that she was still here was a testament to that.
The 9.30 train rounded the bend and headed for the platform at high speed. The rhythmic rumblings on the track exploded in her ears. It will pass. Her feet moved. No, it won’t, it can’t. Nothing will ever be the same again.
Teal gave a cursory glance at the old woman and saw the horrified expression on her face. The kind of look that told Teal the woman was aware that she wasn’t physically strong enough to stop her. That she was helpless. This knowledge only served to make Teal feel even more ashamed of what the poor woman was about to witness.
Teal was close enough to see the tears roll down her cragged cheeks. As if she couldn’t bear the thought of the inevitable, the woman squeezed her eyes shut.
Remember, everything will pass.
With the impending arrival of the train, people gathered around her and she soon lost sight of the woman in the bustle.
Teal looked down, her gaze steady, totally focused on the shiny silver track. Just one more step.
The train was fast approaching.
Teal waited for the inevitable. Soon ….
That’s when she felt it. The same bony hand that had rested on her arm only seconds earlier. Strong icy fingers wrapped themselves around her wrist and yanked her back to safety.
The train dragged its carriages to a standstill in front of her. Heart in mouth, Teal let herself be nudged and shoved as people pushed past her and boarded the train. In a daze, she glanced around for the elderly lady but couldn’t see her anywhere. The doors slid shut and the train slowly moved on—the driver totally oblivious to the near disaster that had been averted because of the kindness of a stranger.
The train now gone, Teal retraced her steps to the bench. She slumped down on the seat and stared up at the sky. That was too close. Way too close.
A little girl of around five pleading with her mother for a lolly, brought her back to the moment. Teal lowered her head down and picked up her bag. The zip was slightly open and she noticed that the picture she had scrunched into a ball had somehow unfolded. Looking back at her were Alana’s eyes.
Before she could begin to contemplate what this meant, her phone rang. It was eerie to think how different this setting could have been. That instead of Teal answering her phone, it could have been a police officer informing the caller of Teal’s demise. She shuddered as she fished inside her bag to retrieve it.
‘Hello … hello?’
‘Channing, I can hear you.’ Teal forced her voice to be strong.
‘What was that voicemail about?’ Channing asked, cutting straight to the point. ‘What’s with the urgency to pick up my stuff?’
‘Are you kidding me?’ Teal paused to get her temper under control. ‘You’re lucky I didn’t throw your stuff out on the street and call the police.