Her Last Breath

by Tracy Buchanan

  ‘Does he often get angry like that?’ Estelle asked gently.

  ‘More so lately. He’s been under a lot of stress.’

  ‘What sort of stress?’

  Autumn peered out towards the sea. ‘Money doesn’t come as easy as it used to.’

  ‘I had a feeling that might be an issue,’ Estelle said with a sigh.

  Autumn forced a smile onto her face. ‘But that isn’t something you need to worry your pretty little head about. Look what I found,’ she said, gesturing to a box on the side. Inside were photos, the top one of Estelle’s first Christmas with the Garlands. She was sitting under a huge tree with Aiden and Alice, a slightly overwhelmed look on her face. It had only been a couple of weeks since she’d arrived in Lillysands, after all. A lot for a kid used to bad memories at Christmas to take in. The festive season just brought excuses for more alcohol and drugs for her birth parents, more time cooped up indoors, more fists clashing and words flashing, her mum’s panda eyes bubbling with tears, a smear of red lipstick across her face, the Christmas tree toppled against the TV. Estelle had learnt at a young age to retreat to her room as soon as she could after Christmas dinner and allow the carnage to unfold without her. Sometimes it spilled into her room, the alcohol-fuelled anger directed at her.

  ‘Look at you,’ her mum would hiss. ‘Dirty little girl, hair a mess, filthy clothes. You ought to take more care of yourself.’

  She’d just been a kid. That tangled hair, the filthy clothes – how could she have possibly done anything about it? She’d tried her best, even figuring out how to turn on the taps of the bath to try to clean herself when her parents lay on the sofa in drunken stupors. But the bath had been filthy, the ceramic black from dirt. It was always impossible to feel clean in that house.

  As Estelle looked at that first Christmas photo with the Garlands, she remembered feeling truly clean for the first time in a long time that day, dressed in the new clothes they’d bought her, cleaned raw by the hot power shower they owned. If only that feeling had lasted … now she felt filthy again.

  The sooner she got away from Lillysands, the better. She needed a detox when she got home, a proper forty-eight-hour detox to strip all the ugliness from inside her. Her mind started whirring over the ingredients she’d use, each one going through her mind like a calming mantra: Grapefruit. Beetroot and dandelions. Mint …

  ‘Look you two,’ Autumn said with a sigh as she glanced over at Aiden. ‘Regarding what Max said about the two of you …’

  ‘We don’t need to go over it,’ Estelle said, shrugging her bag over her shoulder and backing away. ‘I’m going home now.’

  Autumn gave her a wounded look. ‘No!’

  ‘I have to.’

  ‘Oh darling,’ Autumn said, flinging her arms around Estelle’s shoulders. ‘I’ll miss you. You will keep in touch, won’t you?’

  ‘Of course.’ But as Estelle said that, she knew she wouldn’t. It just felt too suffocating, the past and the memories she wanted to forget were too close.

  ‘Let me give you a lift to the station,’ Aiden said, grabbing his keys.

  ‘That’d be good, thanks.’

  ‘One more hug?’ Autumn said, beckoning Estelle over again.

  Estelle smiled and hugged her again. She felt a sense of uneasiness as she hugged Autumn this time, the arguments earlier still tingling.

  ‘Look after yourself, darling,’ Autumn whispered into her ear, her voice catching. As Estelle looked into her eyes, she could see Autumn knew this might be the last time she saw Estelle. Her heart clenched. She’d miss Autumn, just as she had all those years ago; leaving her behind had been as big a wrench as leaving Aiden behind.

  She extracted herself from Autumn’s arms and walked out with Aiden. She took a backwards glance at the house, remembering the last time she’d left. Would she ever come back again? Probably not, she thought.

  No, definitely not.

  As she thought that, she realised it was the same thought process she’d gone through when she’d left after giving birth to Poppy. Hesitation followed by determination.

  Aiden drove in silence to the train station, his eyes darting over to her every now and again. When they pulled up outside the station, they said nothing for a few moments.

  ‘I—’

  ‘We’ll—’

  ‘You go first,’ Estelle said, smiling.

  ‘We’ll keep in touch,’ Aiden said.

  Estelle nodded. ‘Yes, we will. Thanks for the lift.’ She quickly leaned over, giving him a kiss on the cheek. ‘Take care,’ she said, looking into his eyes.

  His face flooded with emotion and he nodded. ‘You take care too, Stel.’

  It was hard, saying goodbye to him. At least last time, she hadn’t had to see the pain on his face.

  She let herself out of the car, feeling his eyes on her as she walked away, trying to contain the tears in her eyes.

  As she walked into the station, she noticed people milling about. Then she realised why: all trains were delayed by at least two hours because of the weather.

  ‘Great,’ she hissed to herself. She walked to a café and found a seat, buying a bottle of water.

  ‘Hello you.’

  She looked up to see Darren peering down at her.

  ‘The Jag in for a service?’ she asked.

  He took the seat across from her. ‘Have a client due in, said I’d meet them, but looks like they won’t be getting in any time soon.’

  Estelle sighed. ‘No.’

  ‘So, you and Aiden.’

  Estelle didn’t say anything; she didn’t have the energy.

  ‘Hey, it’s cool,’ Darren said, shrugging. ‘Rather kinky too, if you ask me.’

  ‘Oh please.’

  Darren’s face darkened. ‘And you had a kid too, hey? What happened to it?’

  Estelle tensed. ‘Adopted.’

  ‘Thought that might be the case.’ He leaned back, stretching his arms behind his head. ‘Max lost it a bit back there, didn’t he? Said some nasty things?’

  Estelle’s eyes lifted to meet Darren’s. ‘It wasn’t pleasant.’

  ‘No. But then Max isn’t exactly the most pleasant of men. Poor Alice got the brunt of it before, didn’t she?’

  Estelle heart started thumping. ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘I saw them arguing once, on the beach. Was just a week before she died actually.’

  A week before … about the time Estelle thought that Polaroid had been taken of Alice.

  ‘What – what were they arguing about?’ she asked.

  ‘I don’t know the details; all I know is Max was very angry.’

  Estelle thought of the diagram she’d found. Was that when Alice had confronted Max about her findings? Had she made him angry … angry enough to retaliate?

  Angry enough to hurt her?

  The thought made Estelle feel weak. ‘What do you mean?’ she asked Darren.

  ‘He shoved her.’ Darren frowned. ‘I wanted to tell him to leave it out but I was a kid, not as strong as I am now. She looked pretty scared of him.’

  ‘Jesus,’ Estelle said under her breath, remembering what the policewoman had said to her about Alice being hurt before she died.

  Darren stood up. ‘See, I’m not stupid like Aiden says. I notice things,’ he added, tapping his temple. ‘And I’ve noticed for a while Max isn’t as chilled as he likes to make out.’ He looked her in the eye. ‘Good luck, yeah? It’s good you’re getting out of Lillysands. Just wish I could do the same.’

  Estelle raised an eyebrow. ‘I thought you loved it here.’

  ‘Why would you think that?’

  ‘You’ve make a life for yourself here. You had a good childhood.’

  ‘Did I? Just because my parents are well off doesn’t mean I didn’t have a tough childhood like you.’ His brow knitted. ‘It’s hard being pushed every minute of every day to succeed, you know.’

  Then he walked away.

  Estelle watched him, not quite sure what
to think. Part of her thought it was laughable he was comparing his childhood to hers. But then maybe he was right? Just because she’d come from a deprived background didn’t mean her childhood was any worse than those kids who came from a privileged home. With parents like Peter and Veronica, the pressure on Darren must have been intense.

  Still, it wasn’t quite in the same league really.

  Estelle spent the next couple of hours staring out at the increasing rain, thoughts of Poppy and Alice whirring around her mind. Could Max have hurt Alice? Could he have pushed her from the cliff? He had a motive. Alice had learnt about the corners he’d cut building the clifftop houses, what a risk it all posed to the town. Imagine if that had got out?

  But if Max had killed Alice, could that mean he’d sent Estelle the Polaroids too? And if so, that meant he’d seen or had contact with Poppy at some point after she ran away.

  Estelle sat up straighter in her chair. What if Poppy had somehow found out where she was born and ran right here, to Lillysands? She thought of the girl she’d seen in the road, on the cliff. The one she thought was Alice. Could it have been Poppy? Her heart started thumping. Could Poppy have been in Lillysands all this time?

  As she thought that, a loudspeaker declared all trains were now cancelled. It felt like fate.

  She headed towards the B&B that she remembered. But the sign outside said No Vacancies. She tried the plush new hotel, but that was full too, the frosty receptionist telling her the flooding meant roads were closed and trains weren’t running so people couldn’t get into the town for the festival.

  She looked down at her phone and found herself dialling the number of the one person she wanted to see more than anyone. The one person left in Lillysands who she felt she could trust.

  Aiden.

  Estelle jumped into the passenger seat of Aiden’s car, flinging her bag in the back.

  ‘Thanks, I really appreciate this,’ she said, watching his reaction. He’d been surprised when she called to tell him all the trains were cancelled and all the hotels were booked up. She hadn’t wanted to invite herself to his, especially after the kiss she’d imposed on him the night before. Luckily, he offered, but it had been hard to tell how he really felt from his voice.

  Now, as she watched him, he seemed fine. Even smiled.

  ‘No problem,’ he replied. ‘Don’t want you sleeping on the streets. Or worse, at my parents’ again.’

  She laughed awkwardly.

  He looked at his watch. ‘How about I cook you a nice lunch?’

  Estelle raised an eyebrow.

  ‘Ye of little faith,’ he said with a laugh. ‘I actually went shopping earlier and have a whole fridge full of fresh fruit and vegetables.’

  ‘If you insist.’

  He started the engine and they headed away from the sea towards a set of bohemian-looking terraced houses gathered around a small square. She and Alice would walk past them on the way to school and often talked about renting a flat there together when they were older.

  She thought then of what Darren had told her earlier about Max and Alice arguing. But she didn’t want to spring it on Aiden. He already found her theories outlandish. She’d see how he was later.

  Five minutes later, he pulled up in front of a house and they both got out of the car. ‘Don’t judge me,’ Aiden said as he gestured to the overgrown lawn and chipped blue door. ‘It’s been pretty manic at work and all the rain makes the grass grow wild.’

  ‘I’m not judging,’ Estelle replied. ‘I always liked these houses.’

  They walked down the path. ‘I bet your front lawn is immaculate,’ Aiden said.

  ‘I don’t have one. Front lawns are at a premium in London. I have a roof garden though.’ Or, did have one, she thought. Maybe she wouldn’t if things were really over with Seb. She still hadn’t heard from him. And if she did, would she really want to still be with him? Something inside told her no, she wouldn’t.

  She looked at Aiden. Maybe seeing him again had played a part in that.

  Aiden raised an eyebrow. ‘Oh, a roof garden, how divine.’

  She laughed. He really did seem in a better mood.

  They stepped inside, Aiden kicking a pile of newspapers to the side as he led her down the hall. The floor was tiled in black and white, and slightly dusty. Along the white walls of the narrow hallway were drawings of Lillysands’ famous cliff and pretty marina.

  ‘Right,’ he said, clapping his hands. ‘Welcome to my humble abode.’

  ‘How long have you lived here?’

  ‘Since I got married. I bought my ex out. Had to live on baked beans and cereal dinners for a few months. I’d like more time to look after it,’ he said. ‘But the job doesn’t allow for that at this time of year. Tea? I haven’t got any green tea before you ask.’

  ‘That’s okay. I have some teabags with me.’

  He laughed. ‘I’ll pop the kettle on.’

  She followed him into a long galley kitchen with a small round table at the back looking out over a narrow garden that seemed to go on forever. She took a moment to take it all in. It felt strange to be here, in Aiden’s ‘grown-up’ home. All she knew was him in his parent’s house.

  ‘Was meant to be the perfect family home,’ he said, gesturing for her to sit at the table.

  She looked at the table and imagined sitting around it with Aiden and Poppy. She sighed. ‘I’m sorry that didn’t work out for you.’

  He shot her a brave smile now. ‘It’s fine. It’s what’s meant to be, right?’ He poured some boiling water into a chipped mug for her and brought it over. She got her green teabag out, dipping it in.

  ‘Right,’ Aiden said, turning his back to her to hunt in the fridge. ‘I better get on with your lunch.’

  ‘Are you sure you don’t want me to cook?’

  ‘I think you’ve done enough cooking. And don’t look so worried! I promise you the sea bass will be the best you’ve ever tasted. Fred the Fisherman told me it’s top notch.’

  ‘Fred the Fisherman?’ Estelle asked with a raised eyebrow.

  ‘You’re doing me a favour anyway,’ he said. ‘I need to cook more. I tend to survive on microwave meals lately.’

  Estelle couldn’t help but wrinkle her nose.

  ‘I know you’re wrinkling your nose,’ Aiden said without turning. ‘I can sense it.’

  She laughed. ‘Microwave meals are the devil’s work.’

  ‘They’re angels when I’ve been climbing cliffs for twelve hours.’ He pulled some items from the fridge.

  ‘I can show you some easy thirty-minute recipes,’ Estelle offered.

  ‘Oh come on. You know those recipes take an hour really, they never include the chopping and preparing.’

  ‘Mine really do take less than an hour, usually half an hour from start to finish.’

  He looked at her. ‘You’re going to be a saint to cliff climbers all over the country.’

  ‘That is exactly why I became a nutritionist.’

  He pulled out a frying pan, splashing some olive oil into it. ‘I think your reasons were far more noble. You had a friend with diabetes, right?’

  ‘You know about that?’

  ‘I’ve been reading your book, Stel. It’s really good.’

  She felt her cheeks flush. She hadn’t realised he’d start reading it so quickly. ‘Thank you.’

  Estelle stood up and went to get a knife to chop some onions but Aiden brushed her hand away.

  ‘Go sit back down. And you know what? Forget about the tea, have some wine. It’s organic wine,’ he added.

  ‘No,’ Estelle said firmly. ‘Not after last night’s mess.’

  ‘Best cure. Hair of the dog and all that.’

  ‘You sound like your parents.’

  He shook his head. ‘I’m talking a couple of glasses, Stel. My parents’ hair of a dog is a bottle of Bucks Fizz.’

  They both laughed.

  ‘No, really, it’s fine. But you have one,’ Estelle said.

  ‘Mus
t be good to know you help so many people with their health?’ Aiden asked, pouring himself a glass.

  ‘I guess,’ Estelle said. ‘I get lots of emails from people and messages on social media saying so.’

  He was quiet for a few moments, just watching her.

  ‘What’s up?’ she asked.

  ‘Nothing. I just …’ He sighed, looking down into his drink. Then he peered up at her, his face serious. ‘You’ve turned things around. You’ve done really well for yourself.’

  ‘So have you.’

  ‘I’m not on Inster and Twitgram though, am I?’

  Estelle burst out laughing. ‘It’s Instagram and Twitter. Where’s your phone? Let’s set you up. I think a hot rock climber is just what the social media world needs.’

  ‘Hot?’ Aiden said, raising his eyebrow. ‘I don’t think I’ve been described as that since I was fourteen.’

  Estelle’s face flushed.

  ‘So, what do I do then?’ he said, digging his phone out.

  Over the next half an hour, as the sea bass cooked in the oven, Estelle helped set Aiden up on Instagram.

  When the food was ready, Estelle organised it on a plate for him. ‘Needs to look pretty.’ And they took a photo, uploading it to their respective accounts.

  ‘This is delicious,’ she said as she had her first taste. ‘I was genuinely worried when you said you were going to cook; I remember the raw egg milkshakes you’d make me back in the day.’

  Aiden smiled to himself. ‘I never had a chance to learn! You know what my mum’s like – I’m not allowed to lift a finger. I couldn’t even make pasta when I moved out. My ex couldn’t believe it when we got a place together. If only Mum had given me a little more independence.’ He shrugged.

  ‘You’re blaming your mum for your divorce?’

  He smiled wryly. ‘You know what I mean.’

  ‘I do.’ She thought of her own childhood, picking at the leftovers of a stale takeaway as her parents slept off another party.

  ‘Estelle will get fat if all she has is takeaways,’ she remembered her social worker warning her mother during visits. Maybe Aiden was right, parents – and social workers with comments like that – were the root of everything.

  ‘Sorry,’ Aiden said now. ‘I shouldn’t moan.’