by Amy Cross
I'm hopelessly out of breath, and I feel as if I might collapse at any moment.
Suddenly hearing my phone start ringing, I take it out and find that Elliot is trying to get through.
“How's it going?” he asks as soon as I answer. “Did you find a cab?”
“I'm taking the train!” I stammer, looking both ways and watching the crowded platform for any hint that Laura is still after me. “I saw her, Elliot. I swear to God, I saw Laura.”
“Just calm down. You should take a cab, it'll be quicker.”
“She was there!” I hiss. “She was right by the taxis! I couldn't! I'm taking a train!”
“Okay, I get it.” He hesitates. “Are you sure it's her, Lynn? Don't take this the wrong way, but could your chemo drugs have -”
“I'm not imagining it!” I shout, before realizing that I'm being too loud. Several people are watching me now, and I'm sure they think I'm a complete lunatic. “I'm not imagining anything,” I continue, keeping my voice much lower this time. “Elliot, it's her! I swear to you!”
“And you haven't...”
I wait for him to continue.
“I haven't what?” I ask frantically, still looking around in case she shows up.
“You haven't been on any other substances, have you? Lynn, I remember how -”
“Of course not!” I hiss, furious that he'd even suggest such a thing. “I don't do any of that stuff anymore.”
“Okay, just -”
“You don't believe me, do you?”
“Of course I believe you,” he replies, although I can hear a hint of doubt in his voice. “It's just... This is a difficult thing to believe, Lynn.”
“I don't care how difficult it is for you to believe me!” I stammer. “I'm telling you what I've seen!”
Spotting a hint of movement beyond the tracks, in an alley that runs along the other side of a chain-link fence, I'm momentarily worried that I'm about to see Laura again. Instead, I realize that there's a girl sitting on the ground, wearing a hooded shirt and leaning against a lamp-post. She's fiddling with something in her hands, and when I squint I realize that she's holding a syringe. Her shirt looks familiar, like one I used to wear back when I was at uni.
“Are you still there?” Elliot asks. “Lynn?”
“I'm here,” I whisper, watching with a mounting sense of horror as the girl rolls up one of her sleeves and starts checking for a good patch of skin.
“I'm going to meet you at the station,” Elliot continues. “I'll go down there right now. I'll be waiting on the platform when you get off the train, okay?”
I can't quite see the girl's face.
“Lynn?” Elliot adds. “Did you hear what I just said?”
“Sure,” I reply, barely even paying attention. “I'll see you soon. I'll...”
Once I've cut the call, I sit in stunned silence and watch as the girl finishes filling her syringe. I know the routine all too well. She's getting ready to inject herself. I know exactly how she must be feeling, because I remember doing the exact same thing when I was younger.
Still holding my bag of shopping, I shuffle forward while keeping my eyes fixed on the girl. She's finished filling the syringe, and now she's leaning back with her head still covered by the hood. Deep down, I'm starting to feel worried that the hood will come off at any moment, and that I'll see Laura again. At the same time, I can't stop looking, not even as I hear the rumble of a train approaching the station.
And then, slowly, the girl reaches up and lowers her hood, and I see her face.
It's not Laura.
It's me.
Younger, and looking so ill, and clearly in pain.
I'm seeing myself.
“Don't do it,” I whisper, watching as she starts to slide the needle into her arm. I take another step forward. “You're going to make yourself sick!” I want to go over there, I want to stop her, I want to scream at her so that she doesn't make the same mistakes I made. “You're going to hurt yourself!” I yell. “You're going to die!”
“Watch the edge, lady,” a voice says nearby.
“Stop!” I scream, taking another step forward as the lights of the approaching train fall across the girl.
She looks down at her needle for a moment, before suddenly turning to look straight at me.
“Don't do it!” I shout.
“Lynn.”
Startled, I spin around and find Laura standing right behind me. I take a step back, and in the process I lose my footing and fall, landing hard against the rails below and letting out a gasp of pain. Christmas music is still playing nearby as I try getting to my feet, and when I look up I see horrified passengers standing on the platform, staring down at me.
Suddenly the train sounds its horn, and I realize the rails are vibrating beneath my hands.
“No!” I gasp, still trying to get up. Turning, I see the train racing straight toward me. The brakes are squealing, but it's still coming too fast and I hold my hands over my face as I fall back.
The front of the train slams into my shoulder and sends me thudding down against the rail, and then I feel a heavy, crushing weight run straight up the right side of my chest and through my shoulder. Letting out a gurgle of pain, I feel blood rushing into my mouth, and I look along the track as the train passes over me and finally grinds to a screeching, clanking halt.
Up on the platform, people are screaming.
Christmas music is still playing somewhere.
A moment later, an alarm bell starts ringing.
“Help!” I gasp, as a rush of blood erupts from my mouth. “Help me...”
I try to turn and crawl out from under the train, but something seems to be pinning me down. I look over my shoulder, and in the darkness I'm just about able to see that my legs and my right arm are twisted and torn, mangled under the train's wheels. My right hand is poking out at an angle, pressed against the track, and I stare at in horror for a moment before realizing that I've been ignoring the pain.
So much pain is rushing through me, as I hear voices yelling in the distance and the sound of approaching sirens.
I try to scream, but all that comes from my mouth is another rush of blood.
Then another.
And another.
Each rush is a little weaker than the last, but I swear it's almost as if my heart is pumping blood out through my mouth.
Turning, I reach forward with my left hand and try to grab onto something. I'm covered in some kind of greasy, oily black dirt, and there's a stench of engine grease filling my nostrils.
And I can see Laura up ahead, standing on the tracks, watching me.
I try to call out to her, but another torrent of blood runs down my chin and spatters onto the tracks.
After that, I feel another, very weak spurt of blood in the back of my throat.
And then no more.
Laura is just standing there, about ten feet in front of the train, watching me with calm, dark eyes. Despite all the screams and shouts nearby, and the sounds of sirens and voices telling other people to get back, Laura simply seems fascinated by the sight of me. And as I reach out toward her with my remaining hand, I realize I can feel those long threads in my chest again, pulling on me and starting to drag me down into the darkness. This time I don't have the power to resist, not for long, so I slowly lower my head against the cold tracks, while keeping my eyes fixed on Laura. No more blood is coming up from the back of my throat. I try to turn, but I can't move my arms and legs. I try to lift my head, but I can't move my neck either.
All I can do is stare at Laura, and after a moment I realize I can't even close my eyes.
Part Eight
JONATHAN
Chapter Forty-One
Today
“You can't be serious!” I hiss, following Victoria out of the bedroom. “You didn't even consult me, and now suddenly you're telling her she can extend her stay indefinitely?”
“She has nowhere else to go, darling,” she replies serenely. “T
oby still won't talk to her, and it's not as if she has enough saved up to rent a new apartment all by herself in the city. What am I supposed to do, toss one of my best and oldest friends out onto the street?”
I reach out to grab her arm, before thinking better of it.
“Sophie can look after herself,” I point out as we reach the kitchen. “She has other friends, you know. Why can't she go and sleep on Elliot's sofa for a while? We both know she wouldn't end up on the sofa for long, anyway.”
“She and Elliot have had a falling out.”
“Those two? Never.”
Reaching the kitchen, Victoria turns to me.
“Jonathan, darling,” she says with that rather patronizing tone she always uses when I refuse to give in to her wishes, “please don't be difficult. Sophie's your friend too. In fact, she was your friend long before I even knew her. She's going through a very hard time, and don't forget that she lost the baby too. Nick's death shook her, it shook us all, and I think we should be charitable. Especially given the time of year.”
“And what if she gets suspicious about you?” I ask.
“About me? Why should she be suspicious about me?”
“You know why!”
I wait for her to agree, but she simply stares at me. God damn this woman, sometimes she can be utterly infuriating.
“Sophie's not an idiot!” I continue finally. “You've managed to hide the truth from her so far, about what happened to you and... The point is, she's going to notice eventually! She must have realized something's up by now! I mean, you never leave the apartment!”
“I simply don't know what you're driving at,” she replies calmly.
“You -”
Stopping suddenly, I realize that perhaps she's telling the truth. Perhaps, in the middle of all this madness and insanity, Victoria still doesn't remember everything that happened to her over the past few months.
“Victoria,” I stammer, “please, tell me that you're not -”
Before I can finish, I hear a key in the front door, and I see a faint smile flicker across Victoria's face as Sophie comes into the apartment with several bags of shopping.
“Tell me you remember,” I whisper. “This is important, Victoria. The night with the leg of lamb. The night when I was about to leave you, and you were carrying that defrosting leg of lamb and -”
“Ssshh!” she says suddenly, putting a finger against her lips. “We have company, darling. Please, let's not start airing our dirty laundry in public. You know I always get a terrible headache whenever private matters are brought up.”
“I got shopping!” Sophie gasps, struggling through with several overflowing bags.
“Let me help you,” I say, hurrying over and taking several of the bags, before carrying them to the kitchen counter. I open my mouth to add that she shouldn't be straining herself so much when she's pregnant, but I remember just in time that she lost the baby.
“You didn't need to buy all this,” Victoria purrs, watching from the doorway as I help Sophie unpack. “My dear, we have our shopping delivered by a lovely online company.”
“I can't keep eating your food,” she replies. “It wouldn't be fair. Besides, I want to pay my way.”
“That's absolutely unnecessary,” I tell her, aware that Victoria is watching us keenly. “You're our friend, of course we're happy to help in any way possible.”
“I've been looking at rooms to rent,” she explains as she takes a box of eggs to the fridge. “I think I should be able to find somewhere really soon, it's just that Christmas is going to slow things down. But if I'm getting in the way, I can go to a hotel or a B&B or something.”
“Nonsense,” I reply. “We love having you here. Without you, it'd just be Victoria and I pottering about in the place. Sometimes that can get a little...”
My voice trails off, and I can't help noticing a faint smile on Victoria's lips.
“Well, it's a nice change having someone else here,” I add, feeling distinctly uncomfortable.
“It certainly is,” Victoria says rather brightly. “Why, Jonathan and I were just discussing how much better the apartment feels with you around. The past few months have been rather trying, Sophie. In fact, Jonathan and I have been getting on one another's nerves a great deal. Just a while back, he actually packed a little suitcase and -”
“I don't think Sophie wants to hear about that,” I tell her.
“But it's funny, darling!”
“We should think about dinner,” I add, hoping to change the subject.
“Jonathan packed a little suitcase,” she continues, as Sophie continues to put the shopping away, “and he announced that he was going to leave me.”
“Seriously?” Sophie asks, turning to her and then to me. “I thought you guys were always solid as a rock!”
“Sometimes appearances can be deceptive,” Victoria tells her, clearly enjoying the fact that I'm feeling uncomfortable. “I still remember the night when Jonathan stood in the front room with his suitcase, and I'd just begun to defrost a leg of lamb, and my dear, silly husband told me that he was off. Can you believe such a thing? Just like that, he wanted to walk out and leave me all alone.”
“I'm glad you two worked things out,” Sophie says with an awkward smile.
“I was holding the leg of lamb,” Victoria continues, “and all that cold water was starting to dribble between my fingers, and I told Jonathan that he simply couldn't leave. Now, what happened next? Oh yes, I remember. We discussed things for a while, and then I went into the bathroom and...”
Her voice trails off, and I can see the sudden veil of confusion in her eyes.
“And then what happened?” she whispers, clearly struggling to remember. “I was...”
“That's enough!” I say firmly.
“And then I -”
“That's enough!” I shout.
Sophie turns to me, clearly shocked.
“I'm sure Sophie doesn't want to hear all of this,” I continue, as Victoria turns to me with a shocked, slightly vacant expression. “You've made your point, darling.”
“I have?” she asks. “I'm not sure I remember anymore.”
“At least you've sorted things now,” Sophie mutters, putting the last of the items away. “Where do you keep your used bags?”
“Maybe we should all go out for dinner tonight,” I suggest, keeping my eyes fixed on Victoria. “Out of the apartment. To a restaurant.”
“I'm not sure I feel up to that right now,” Victoria replies.
“But it'd be fun,” I tell her. “The three of us. On me, of course. It's been so long, darling, since I was able to get you out of the house.”
“I'd rather eat here,” she says, and now there's a hint of irritation in her voice.
I watch her for a moment, and I'm certain that when push comes to shove, she doesn't want Sophie to start getting suspicious. She might not remember everything, but she has an instinct about certain matters.
“I'll go to my room,” Sophie says, clearly sensing that something's wrong. “I'll leave you two alone for a while.”
“There's no need,” Victoria replies with a smile, heading over and putting an arm around her shoulders. “We should cook and eat together. It'll be almost like the old days, when we were all students. After all, those were the happiest days of our lives, weren't they? When we were all friends together!”
Feeling my phone buzzing, I slip it from my pocket and see that Elliot is trying to get in touch.
“What does he want?” I mutter, tempted to dismiss the call. Finally, sighing, I decide to answer. “How are things going?” I ask. “What news do you have from the other side of this fair city? Has anything exciting happened?”
“Did you hear?” he replies, his voice sounding frail and shattered. “Jonathan, did you hear what happened to Lynn?”
Chapter Forty-Two
Six months ago
“Leave her?” I whisper, as I run a finger across Caroline's collarbone and down onto her
breast, where I take a moment to trace a line around her nipple. “No, I can't leave her. That would be impossible.”
“You always say that, Jonathan, but you never really explain why. Is it money?”
I can't help a faint chuckle.
“I thought you were the rich and successful one in the marriage,” she continues. “Doesn't Victoria just sit around the apartment all day, pretending that she's setting up some kind of online art store?”
“More or less,” I mutter, turning to see the faint smile on Caroline's lips. “She's genuinely giving it a shot, you know. She just wants to have everything perfect before she launches.”
“And how long has she been planning for that?”
“A couple of years,” I reply, feeling a rush of dread in my chest. “I know it's never going to happen, but it keeps her out of trouble. She's happy. It's complicated.”
“And what about you?” she asks. “Are you happy?”
“I just secured a rather important contract with -”
“I'm not talking about work,” she continues, interrupting me. “I'm talking about your life. Are you happy being married to that ice princess? I'm assuming you can't be, because otherwise you wouldn't be jumping into bed with me at every opportunity.” She pauses, watching me with a hint of concern in her eyes. “Why have you and Victoria never had children?”
“My wife is not exactly the mothering type.”
“So you don't want any?”
“Victoria thinks the world is too full as it is.”
“But what do you think?”
Sighing, I roll onto my back and stare up at the ceiling.
“I'll give you children,” Caroline says after a moment.
I turn back to look over at her.
Pulling the sheets up to cover her chest, she shifts onto her side and stares at me for a moment.
“What about three?” she asks. “Maybe even four at a push. Bound to be a boy among them, right? You're a rich, successful, handsome man, Jonathan. You should have a family. You should be adding to the gene pool, not letting your name and legacy fade to nothing.”