by E. S. Carter
I take a big lick of my ice cream only for the entire head to slide off my cone into the sand at my feet.
I bite my lip to stop myself from crying.
‘It’s OK Emmy, I’ve had enough you can have mine’ James smiles over at me offering the remnants of his treat. I smile adoringly back before taking the sticky mess from his hand and nibbling on the cone.
‘Thanks’ I reply quietly.
‘It’s OK Emmy, it’s what brothers do, Dad said I will always have to look after you as I’m the oldest.’
With that he picks up my discarded spade and starts digging away at our hole.
About fifteen minutes pass and I’ve finished my ice cream, my sticky hands are caked in sand and I really want to go in the sea to rinse them, its then I realise the hole is almost as deep as we are tall and the pile of discarded sand looms precariously above us.
‘James?’
‘Hmmm?’ he keeps digging not looking at me.
‘How are we gonna get out of this hole to go back to the caravan for lunch?’
‘Don’t worry Emmy, it’s easy, we’ll get out.’ He stops digging for a second, bending to pick up something in the sand.
‘Look Emmy, I’ve found something’ he says excitedly before spinning around and pushing his find in my face ‘It’s Pirate bones’ he laughs loudly, throwing the item at me, causing me to scream and start flailing my hands around in panic. I am now desperate to get out of this hole and away from those bones, in my frenzy I do not realise I am making the sand above us shift.
‘Emmy, stop you’re making the sand move, it’s filling the hole back in’.
I ignore him, desperate to get away from the bones, my panic has caused me to start crying loudly, angry sobs escape from my mouth as I try harder than before to get out of the sand hole.
‘Emma! . . . . Emma STOP!’ I turn my head, tears streaming down my face, just as the whole side of the hole nearest James came crashing down, bringing the discarded sand and what seems like some of the dune with it, almost covering him completely.
I shake my head, trying to force the memories back into the dark part of my brain that they have escaped from.
My mother is right to withhold her forgiveness. I wouldn’t forgive me either if I was her, still I hope if I was in her shoes I might know that my daughter needed me. Needed my love and support in the years that followed, needed me now, at a point where the darkness is threatening to consume me again.
I abruptly get up off the sofa and check my phone for any missed calls or texts. On seeing the screen blank of messages, I walk over to the stereo and pull open my Dad’s box of old vinyl records.
Flicking through his collection, my fingers pause on the one I used to nag him to play over and over as a child. James would laugh at me and tell me to stop being such a girl but I loved this song. It told the story of endless love, even after death.
Carefully lifting up the cover on the turntable, I place the record over the centre pin and drop the arm gently on the outer edge.
Silence, then those spine tingling crackles that you only get from old vinyl records, begin to escape from the speakers. My memories take me straight back to Sunday afternoons from long ago, memories of wiping the dinner dishes that my Dad had just washed, listening to him sing-along to what I thought was the most beautiful song in the world.
‘Laura and Tommy were lovers, he wanted to give her everything. . . . ‘ Ray Petersons voices echoes around the living room and a single tear slips from my eye.
Even as a child I knew this song spoke of an eternal love; a love that can make someone immortal, for as long as you hold their heart in yours.
I hold James’ heart in mine, I can feel it beat beneath my chest and I know I always will.
My phone starts ringing, disturbing me from my thoughts.
Pulling it from my pocket, my breath catches a little when I see that it’s Marie, the police liaison officer assigned to my case. I’ve only met her half a dozen times but she specialises in cases like mine, she’s probably seen women get over far worse than I had to endure and she somehow manages to share their quiet strength with you.
Please let this be over, please let this be over. I repeat in my head before I take a deep breath and swipe the screen to answer.
‘Hello Emma it’s Marie, are you ok to talk or would you prefer if I came to see you at home?’
I swallow thickly before replying ‘I’m OK Marie, thanks for calling me, is there any news yet?’
She hesitates for a second before speaking again. ‘He’s been found guilty and sentenced to eight years to serve a minimum of five before being eligible for release. How do you feel about this Emma? I know you want this to all be over so you can move on. This means you get to do just that Emma. It’s over.’
I sit down heavily on the sofa before I answer in a breathless, raspy voice. ‘It’s over. Thank God it’s over.’
The tears I cry are cathartic, I can feel them cleansing me, I can feel the salty liquid purging the darkness from my soul. It’s over.
It’s over. I got through it. I survived.
Watching that piece of shit get put down for eight years was, in equal parts, a relief and immensely satisfying. I only wished he got more.
Listening to Emma’s injuries being listed for the court made my stomach twist in sheer agony.
I could have stopped that, she should never have gone through that ordeal, it is my selfish lack of concern about others, especially women, that put her in that position in the first place and she paid a high price for her fleeting involvement with me.
Have I changed my ways since Emma? Not at all but I am more careful in choosing my conquests. Even a whiff of naivety or innocence and I walk away. I only play with women like me, women who know all I’m offering is a few hours to escape into a haze of sex and lust, nothing more.
The Emma’s of this world are not made for a man like me and now this nightmare is finally over for her, she can move on and so can I.
The fact that she gave her evidence via video link was another relief. I’d be lying if I said that my initial reaction wasn’t one of disappointment, at times I yearn to see her in the flesh again but hearing his twisted version of events would have harmed her even more.
His claims that Emma only got hurt because she got caught up in the violence when I attacked him were utterly ridiculous! Did he really think anyone would believe her list of injuries could have been made that way, let alone the irrefutable CCTV film evidence?
He also claimed Emma had thrown herself at him in an effort to make me jealous, that she had practically had sex with him on the dance floor and that any man would think her actions a brazen request to take things further.
Watching as Mr Campbell listened to the malevolence that poured out of his mouth, with a quiet dignity and resolve, made me force down my own anger at the bullshit spouted about his daughter. Anger that I could feel building in my chest, desperate to break free and tear that asshole limb from limb.
Justice was served though, his evil words ignored and in passing sentence the Judge remarked that it was his utter lack of remorse that forced him to give Jason Rapist Brown the longest sentence he could.
I hope he will rot in a cell, I hope some thug decides to make him his bitch and I hope the horrors he inflicted on Emma he gets back tenfold.
‘Jake, I can’t thank you enough for everything. What you did that night, what you did today and what you’ve continued to do since all this happened, is more than I can repay.’ Mr Campbell has one hand on my shoulder in a comforting stance and the other held out for me to shake.
‘Nate and Liv are travelling home with me, would you like to come with us? I’m sure Emma would really like to say Thank You in person now this is all over.’ I take his hand into both of mine and shake firmly.
‘I’m sorry Mr Campbell, I’m leaving for Toronto in the morning and I’ve still got much to arrange before I go. Please send my best to Emma and tell her if she ever needs
anything, to get in touch. Nate has all my contact details while I’m away.’
‘Ah that’s right you’re off to be a big star in some Vampire film, Liv has excitedly been telling me all about it ever since Nate told her you got the job. You knock ‘em dead son, or should I be saying break a leg?’ He smiles genuinely at me and slaps my back.
‘Thanks Mr Campbell, take care of yourself and of Emma of course.’ I shake his hand one last time before giving Nate a nod and leaving the courthouse alone.
I was so tempted to see Emma before I leave but even I can see my need to do so is pure selfishness. I still think about her far more than I should. I still have ludicrous day dreams about bumping into her again.
This bizarre infatuation on my part has to stop.
Flicking open my phone I hit the speed dial number for the local florist’s, the same florist I’ve used every single week since Emma was hurt.
Only this time I know will be the last. It is time for me to say goodbye and let Emma get on with her life.
What better time to do so than while I’m out of the country for the next six months. Maybe the distance will quell this need I have to remain connected to her. Maybe by the time I return I will have gotten all this out of my system.
The call connects ‘The Flower Emporium, how can I help?’ a friendly feminine voice comes over the line.
‘Hi, I’d like to make an order to be delivered to Emma Campbell please, I believe you have all the details on file.’
‘Hello Mr Fox, yes I have the details here, what would you like to send this week?’ the smile in the florist’s voice is evident.
‘I’d like something with Daffodils please, you can choose what else to go with them but I’d like the main theme to be Daffodils, is that possible? I mean are they in season?’ Damn, when I’d googled what flowers symbolised a new beginning I didn’t think whether or not they’d be available.
‘Yes the early season Daffodils have just started coming in and that is the perfect choice for the fast approaching spring, I’m sure she will love them.’
‘Thank You, can they be delivered as soon as possible?’
‘Not Saturday as normal Mr Fox?’ I can hear the confusion in the florist’s voice.
‘No Thanks, I’m going away for a while so these are just to say Good Bye.’ I choke a little on the last words and clear my throat before continuing ‘I’ll email through the message for the card in the next hour, please use the debit card on file to take payment and Thank You again for all your help these last few months’.
‘It’s been a pleasure Mr Fox, I know how pleased your girl has been to get her delivery every Saturday, I’m sure she will love the Daffodils’.
My Girl? . . My Girl? The call ends before I can correct her of her mistake. Those two words echoing in my brain on a never ending loop.
Fuck! I need to get laid before I leave in the morning and I know just who to contact.
I’ve lost myself in her quite a few times over the last few weeks, she’s sexy as hell, so goddamn dirty in bed that even I have trouble keeping up and she knows the score. We just fuck, nothing more nothing less.
Walking into the foyer of Nate’s apartment block, the concierge nods in my direction and wiggles his eyebrows knowingly at me. Good she’s here already.
I give him a sly smile and a small salute and press the button to call the elevator.
The doors open on Nate’s floor and standing outside, leaning seductively against the door frame, wearing only black Louboutins and a red leather, belted coat is Mrs Vanessa FML Havers.
She eyes me ravenously; it’s funny how with her I’m always the one who feels like prey.
After raking her eyes from my head to my toes and back up again, lingering on the bulge in my jeans, she slowly begins to untie the belt of the coat, letting it slip casually from her shoulders before it pools carelessly around her feet.
Now she’s only wearing the sky high Louboutins and not a damn thing else. If I thought Nate wasn’t coming home anytime soon, I’d fuck her right here in the entryway.
Fuck me, I am going to sleep well tonight.
Six months later…
Life is good, different but amazingly good.
A month after the court case Nate, knowing I needed to get away, offered me a job working for him at his new club on the island of Ibiza. I start tomorrow and I feel genuinely excited by the challenge.
For the last two months I’ve been pursuing my dream to travel, bumming around Europe, with no set agenda, just following the wind wherever it takes me and discovering myself and who I want to be with this new found freedom, along the way.
My journey began in France, catching a ferry from Dover to Le Havre and from there on to Paris where I bathed in the sights for a whole week, staying in cheap back packer’s hostels and eating the most delicious foods in small cafes, while watching the world go by. After gorging on all things Parisian I made my way through central France, stopping for a few days here and there in beautiful places like Orleans, Bourges and Limoges before finally heading to Montpellier to bask in the sun.
After France I spent a few weeks travelling throughout Italy, never staying anywhere for too long and getting to experience life, whilst soaking up the charms of each place I stayed.
I could feel each new town or city seeping into my bones, the adventure of encountering so many new places and people, rejuvenating my previously weary muscles. This trip was literally nourishing my body and soul, my life was opening up before me and I was excited by the changes ahead.
It was in the city of Perugia, while taking pictures of the Church of Sant’Angelo that I literally bumped into Liam.
The beautiful, circular Church of Sant’Angelo stood before me and a sense of calm washed all over my body. I had seen many truly stunning buildings and monuments on my travels but for some reason, this religious sanctuary had me completely enchanted. The air felt cleaner the nearer I stood to this historical masterpiece, like I was taking my first breath after being under water for a very long time.
I wanted to capture some of the peace and tranquillity I felt emanating from all around, so taking my phone out of my pocket, I open up the camera app to get some pictures.
Looking at the screen I could see I only had a fraction of the building in view. One step back turned into two, then three, all the while my gaze was attached to the structure in front of me, totally oblivious to the rest of my surroundings or any other people who were in the vicinity.
My fourth step backwards caused me to stumble, the back of my calves connecting with a solid mass, my knees buckled and I ended up arse over tip, sprawled on my back.
Before I can move or even register any embarrassment at my ungraceful tumble, a hand appears out of nowhere and reaches down in an offer of help.
The arm the hand is attached to belongs to an athletically built body, wearing loose cargo shorts and a tight khaki tee, the owner of the arm smiles down at me, his grin is lop sided, mocking me a little.
‘Well at least we know that gravity is still working’ his smile is almost smug, before his hand wraps around my arm and hauls me off the floor like I weigh 10lbs.
‘What the hell are you doing?’ my shock is wearing off and is quickly morphing into humiliation laced with anger. He lets go of me abruptly and holds both hands up in a gesture of mock surrender before beginning to laugh.
‘Woah there Calamity Jane, you nearly caused me bodily harm with that acrobatic trick, I was minding my own business, bent over tying my shoelace when you decided to swan dive over the top of me. Don’t blame me for not looking where you are going.’
I huff some wayward strands of hair from my face, knowing my cheeks are burning with heat and I begin to search my pockets for my phone, all the while he stands there, still staring at me like I’m behind bars at the zoo.
‘Nice try asshole, now give me back my phone before I yell for the Police.’ I stretch out my hand, palm facing up, in front of his broad chest.
&n
bsp; ‘Listen lady, you go to the Police, I don’t have your phone. Do you really think I tripped you up in order to mug you? You are all kinds of crazy.’ His smile never falters for a second.
‘No you listen buster, give me back my fucking phone before I scream blue bloody murder in front of this place of God, in fact if you don’t give it back I’m going to go in there and pray for him to strike down upon thee with great vengeance and furious anger those who attempt to steal my phone. And you will know he is the Lord when he lays his vengeance upon you.’ Where the hell did that come from?
Loud laughter interrupts my verbal tirade.
‘Did you just quote Pulp Fiction at me?’ he throws his head back and laughs even louder ‘Shit, that’s it we have to be friends now, even if you are a little cuckoo.’ He uses his fingers, twirling them in circular movements around his temples to emphasise the point.
‘I am not and never will be your friend, give me back my bloody phone. NOW.’ I attempt to stare him out, giving him the most evil look I can muster seeing as he’s still looking at me with a great, big, shit eating grin on his face.
He shakes his head slightly before casting his gaze around us, within seconds he’s bending down, retrieving my phone from where it has lain hidden in the grass.
‘I’m Liam by the way and you owe me some gelato for casting aspersions on my character.’ He dangles the phone a few inches away from my open palm, tilting his head to the side in query.
Damn, I really should have thought before I opened my stupid mouth. I felt like an utter fool.
Snatching the phone from his fingers, I look up at him about to apologise but he still has that bloody grin on his face and it causes something in me to crack. Fits of giggles burst from my mouth and it isn’t long before my eyes fill with tears from the strain of my laughter.
He picks up his discarded back pack before mumbling what sounds like ‘You are all kinds of crazy’ and then he slings his arm around my shoulders adding ‘C’mon Jules, gelato awaits.’