by Dani Atkins
‘You bitch,’ he muttered, his voice guttural. He shoved me with such force that I fell to the ground. In a panic I struggled to get back to my feet, knowing I had to run. Now. But I was too slow. He was standing over me, and what he intended to do next was written all over his face.
I scrambled backwards on my bottom, my feet pin-wheeling for purchase on the slippery path. He dropped to his knees, smiling. Unbelievably, he still thought this was funny. I closed my eyes, dreading what was coming. I only opened them when I heard the sound of something heavy falling to the ground accompanied by a grunt. The blond man was getting to his feet, but David swung a kick which connected with the back of his legs, felling him again. David turned away from the man on the ground and hurried towards me.
‘Charlie, are you okay?’ he asked, reaching his hand out to me. I placed mine within it as he began to pull me to my feet. ‘Did he hurt you?’ he asked, his voice almost unrecognisable.
I opened my mouth to reply, but my words changed into a cry of warning as a dark shape swept down upon us. I didn’t see the swing of the blond man’s punch, but I heard the sickening sound as the bones of his knuckles connected with David’s face. David’s hand released me, and I tumbled back onto the ground once again as the two men faced each other like feuding animals.
‘I should kill you,’ David said, his voice so low the words were virtually a growl.
‘I’d like to see you try,’ taunted his opponent. He brushed the long greasy blond hair from his forehead, and I was happy to see a bloody gash on it.
‘You should run. Right now,’ warned David.
‘And you should keep that little bitch on a tighter leash,’ the man countered. ‘She was all over me like a rash.’
David made a sound I really don’t think I’ve ever heard a human make before, and then launched himself at my attacker. Arms were flailing, and feet were flying in blind kicks as they grappled together. Physically they were equally matched, and the fight could have gone either way. But David was powered by something beyond rage, and I could see he was gaining the upper hand. His fist connected with the man’s face, with enough force to send him reeling backwards, but not enough to stop him. But perhaps he was winded, because he bent low over his boots, as though recovering from a stitch.
I don’t know what might have happened next if the clouds obscuring the moon hadn’t shifted slightly, allowing just enough light to shine down for me to spot the knife he had pulled from within his boot.
‘David, look out!’ I cried, as the man leaped up, brandishing the blade in small sweeping arcs through the air. His pathetic attempts to emulate a samurai would have been laughable, if it hadn’t all been so very terrifying. David took his eyes away from the crazed man just long enough to look my way.
‘Charlotte, run!’ he ordered. I scrabbled back to my feet, but didn’t do as he’d commanded. ‘Get out of here,’ David barked, stepping to one side, effectively luring the man with the knife further away from me. I could hear a whooshing sound each time the knife cleaved threateningly through the air, each swipe taking him closer and closer to David.
‘For Christ’s sake, Charlotte, go!’ yelled David. But I didn’t leave, and it’s not just that I’ve never been very good at following orders. Even if there’d been an entire gang of knife-wielding hooligans, I would still have held my ground. Nothing on earth would have persuaded me to abandon him.
Without thinking, I picked up my bag from where it had fallen, gripped the handles with all my strength, and like a hammer thrower at the Olympics, swung the bag with my laptop and text books in it directly at the face of the man with a knife. I heard a sickening breaking sound, as bag connected with assailant. I think the sound was plastic casing rather than bone. Even so, my aim had been good, and the weight of the bag hurtling towards him had done the rest. The knife fell from his hand with a noisy clatter and David kicked it into the undergrowth flanking the path. The blond stared malevolently at us both, his hand cradling one side of his face. For a second I didn’t realise it was almost over. But he did. Even the dumbest of animals knows when it’s time to retreat. With one last hate-filled look, he turned and ran.
I fell into David’s arms and the tears, that would know no stopping for several hours to come, began to fall.
Ally – Eight Years Earlier
‘Oh my God, David, what were you thinking?’ David leaned across and rapidly shut the door of the kitchen, the room he’d led us both towards after finally managing to extricate himself from Charlotte’s hold.
‘Sshh,’ he urged, pulling me into his arms. But I was still trembling in reaction to the news, and far too overwrought to fall into them.
‘Seriously, how could you have been so reckless? He had a knife,’ I emphasised, my tone putting the word into emboldened capital letters. ‘You could have been stabbed.’ My voice dropped lower, still in shock. ‘You could have died.’
He tugged me towards him, and this time I went. ‘Didn’t you even stop to consider the danger, before you leapt into the middle of it?’
His breath fanned the top of my head as he cradled me against him. ‘To be perfectly honest, no. I didn’t stop to think. But, even if I had, I’d have done exactly the same thing. The guy was off his head, on drink or drugs, I don’t know which. But I do know he was out to hurt someone tonight.’
‘Precisely,’ I said, into the fabric of his shirt. ‘And it so easily could have been you.’
‘But if I hadn’t got involved, then it would definitely have been Charlotte,’ he reasoned. I sighed, knowing I should be proud of his heroism, but all I could think of was how very differently this night could have ended. ‘You tell me, Ally, what else was I supposed to do when she phoned?’
Slowly, very slowly, his words penetrated through a maelstrom of mixed emotions. I arched back in his arms, the better to see his face. ‘I’m sorry, I don’t understand. Phoned? Where from? I thought she’d been attacked outside the house, and that you’d rushed out to help her?’
For the first time David looked uncomfortable, and I felt him physically bristle at my words. ‘No. Charlotte was down by the railway bridge. She called when she realised she was being followed.’
I took a long pause before replying, as I processed and assimilated this new information, rearranging things in my mind as the picture I thought I was seeing changed into something entirely different.
‘I would have thought,’ I began carefully, ‘that most people, when being chased by a person with a knife, would call the police . . . not someone they share a house with.’
David looked uneasy. ‘Well, to be fair, Charlotte didn’t know he had a knife at that time. In fact, she wasn’t even sure—’
‘That is not the bloody point,’ I snapped. ‘You’re not her bodyguard. You’re not a vigilante. She could have got you killed. Have you even seen your face?’
He shook his head, and I could tell that only one of us seemed to be concerned about his safety, and it didn’t appear to be him.
‘I’m sorry that you’re upset about this.’ Upset wasn’t even in the ballpark. ‘But I’m glad I didn’t stop and think it through. You do realise what that bastard was probably about to do, don’t you?’
Of course I did, and I wouldn’t have wished that on anyone – not even my worst enemy – and Charlotte was still a very long way from claiming that particular title. But something about David, and the latent fury in his voice as he spoke, worried me more than anything else. His rage and protectiveness were coming from depths I had never known existed within him.
‘I guess this explains why you weren’t there tonight,’ I said with a resigned sigh.
David’s brow furrowed, and I felt a stab of pain, sharper than any knife, as I realised he had no idea what I was talking about. I saw the moment when the memory of where he was supposed to have been that evening returned. I followed his facial expression as it went from confused to contrite.
‘Oh God, Ally. I’m so sorry. The concert. It was tonigh
t, wasn’t it? It went right out of my head.’
His words ground even more salt into the wound he had unknowingly inflicted. I tried to keep it from my voice, but I think we both heard it. ‘So it would seem. I phoned and texted you – quite a few times – when you didn’t show up.’ I hated what I could hear in my voice, but it was coming from somewhere deep within me, and I just couldn’t hold it back.
‘My phone must have got damaged during the fight. I’m so sorry. By the time we’d called the police, and then the paramedics had insisted on looking us both over . . . well, everything else just went. I completely forgot about you.’ Of all the things you hope never to hear your boyfriend say, that had to be right up there in the top ten. ‘How did it go?’ he asked.
I shook my head, refusing to allow the conversation to veer back towards normality. I was still too hurt and angry. ‘I’ll tell you about it tomorrow. Look, can we just go back to my place now? It’s late and we’re both exhausted. Have the police finished with you?’
His arms slid from my body and his hands reached for mine. I should have known from the awkward expression on his face that I wasn’t going to like what he was about to say.
‘Well, I kind of promised Charlotte I’d stay here tonight. She’s still pretty shaken up.’
The words were on my tongue before I could stop them. ‘Yeah, well, you kind of promised me you’d be at the concert tonight and walk me back home, but . . .’ I shrugged and left the rest of my sentence hanging in the air between us.
David looked genuinely surprised at the bitterness in my voice. ‘Look, we can still be together tonight, we’ll just stay here instead. Charlotte’s worried this guy might turn up again. He knows where we live, and he looks like the type to bear a grudge.’
‘All the more reason for you not to be here,’ I countered. ‘Also, in case no one has noticed, there are three perfectly capable men who also live here. God, Mike would probably sleep on the floor outside Charlotte’s door, given half the chance. She doesn’t need you here too.’
‘Well, I promised I would be,’ David said, sounding irritated for the first time.
‘So you’re choosing her over me. Is that it?’
The hand holding mine fell away. ‘Of course not. Don’t make it about that, because it’s not. Don’t go there, Ally.’
But I couldn’t stop. To be perfectly truthful, I’m not sure if I even wanted to. This had been coming for a long time. ‘We’re already there, David, in case you hadn’t noticed. I’m going to ask you this only one more time. Will you please come home with me, your girlfriend,’ I added, just in case he needed reminding who exactly held that title, ‘or is there something else going on here, besides your need to play action hero through the night?’
‘That isn’t fair, Ally.’
‘Nothing about tonight has been fair,’ I lobbed back. ‘But what happened earlier can’t be changed. It’s what you do now that’s important. Are you coming with me, or staying with her?’
‘It’s not that simple.’
‘It’s exactly that simple.’
Thirty-three seconds passed before he answered me. I know, because I was counting how long it took for everything to fall apart.
‘I have to stay,’ he said firmly and I suddenly realised we’d arrived at the place we’d been travelling inexorably towards for quite a long time. I felt the loss of him like a real and physical ache, even though he was standing right there in front of me.
‘Ally don’t do this. You’re being unreasonable.’
He was right. I was. But now we’d driven to the edge of the cliff, I could see no way of reversing back from the precipice. We stared at each other miserably, both too headstrong and determined to give way. It was a blueprint of many of our arguments. Only we’d never clashed over something this serious before. Our relationship had become a runaway train, hurtling towards imminent derailment. And although we both knew we were about to be declared its casualties, there wasn’t a damn thing we could do to stop it.
The police car was gone, but I was grateful to see that, for some reason, the taxi driver had chosen to remain, parked in front of the house. It was almost as though he’d known I was going to be in need of a lift home. Funny, because up until a few moments earlier, I certainly hadn’t.
‘I’ll call you tomorrow,’ David said as he followed me down the path.
‘I think perhaps we need some time apart,’ I said, my voice beginning to crack. Was I really going through with this?
‘This is ridiculous,’ David muttered. ‘I’ll call you in the morning, when you’ve calmed down.’
He did. Many times. I didn’t pick up. Perhaps he even went round to my house. I’d like to think he hadn’t let me go quite so easily. But I wasn’t there. After a long and sleepless night I had made my decision. My lectures were finished, and the work I had to do for the remainder of the term could be accomplished just as easily from home.
Like a wounded animal in need of sanctuary, I packed up my belongings and caught the first train of the day back to my home town. I kept hoping that David would follow me. That somehow, whatever there was between us was strong enough to survive this. If we’d been in a film, he’d have been there at the station, running along the platform as the train pulled out. Or he’d be parked on the drive of my family home, leaping out tired and dishevelled from sleeping in his car, when my taxi pulled up.
But he did none of those things. I walked away from him, from us. And he just let me go.
Chapter 8
Ally – Eight Years Earlier
‘Okay, try them now,’ Max said, stepping off the set of steps he had climbed to hook up the fairy lights on our tree. I flicked the switch and several hundred twinkling LED lights dazzled us both. I tried to summon up the feeling of pure joy this moment usually elicited, but I came up empty. Max moved to my side, put an arm around my shoulder and gave it a friendly squeeze.
‘It’s gonna get better, you know.’
‘You’ve been saying that for the last ten days. You’re a lousy psychic. You also said he’d call, or turn up. You said he wouldn’t let this be the end.’ There was a reproachful accusation in my voice, as though I genuinely blamed my old friend for making me false promises.
‘I really thought he would,’ Maxi admitted, putting both his arms around me and hugging me tightly. ‘I thought you two were the real deal. And for what it’s worth, I still don’t think anything was going on with him and Charlotte.’
I gave a shrug, able to acknowledge with better perspective now, that I might have been wrong about that one. ‘There were still things that weren’t right between us, even if you lift Charlotte right out of the equation; things we were never going to be able to change.’
‘Such as?’ Max prompted.
‘Such as the fact we argue like cat and dog; we want totally different things from life; we come from polar opposite backgrounds; his mother thinks I’m a gold-digger . . . and he can’t sing.’
‘Hmm. Yep, that one’s always the kiss of death to any relationship,’ Max declared, nodding wisely.
I shoved him gently with the flat of my hand. ‘Don’t make me laugh. None of this is funny,’ I ended sadly.
‘I know,’ Max said, gently kissing my forehead. ‘But it’s all going to work out. You’ll see. Everything happens for a reason.’
‘That’s another prediction I’m not sure I believe. It’s going to take nothing short of a miracle for David and me to get back together.’
‘A Christmas miracle!’ Max exclaimed, clapping his hands in over-exaggerated glee and then looking at me from beneath his long floppy fringe to make sure I knew he was joking. I managed to conjure up a smile for my old friend. The last couple of weeks would have been unbearable without him around, I didn’t even want to think about how much I was going to miss him when he took up the internship he’d been offered in New York the following summer.
‘Just see how you feel when the holidays are over. Use the time you’re apart to th
ink it all through, and in the New Year, perhaps everything will be completely different.’
As it turned out, Max had a far greater knack for making predictions than either of us realised.
I was late, but the softly falling snow meant that I didn’t dare drive any faster, so there was nothing I could do about it. I squinted and hunched further forward in the driver’s seat of my mum’s car, trying to concentrate on the road ahead and not the mesmerising onslaught of snow, which was as dazzling and disorientating as driving straight into the tail end of a comet.
I should have set out hours earlier, or taken the train, but my decision to attend the Snowflake Ball had been so last-minute, my only option had been to drive. I was probably going to have missed the meal, but that wasn’t a problem, because even the thought of food made my stomach churn in protest. A feeling of anxiety kept cresting inside me like a breaking wave, because I had absolutely no idea how David was going to react when I walked into the marquee that night. After a year of feeling I knew exactly what he was thinking at any given moment, it was unsettling to find myself lost in the unfamiliar terrain of somewhere we’d never been before in our relationship, with no compass or map to guide my way.
This evening was always destined to be memorable for us, for it marked the anniversary of when we’d first met. But when David had surprised me with tickets for the ball two months earlier, neither of us could have predicted just how unforgettable this night would be. For a start, who would have known we’d be arriving separately; that we wouldn’t have spoken to each other in over three weeks, or – in the words of a well-known TV series – that we’d be ‘on a break’.