by Jacqui Rose
As Franny went to walk through the door, Bree began to stretch out her hand to stop her but decided it might not be a great idea and just said, ‘I didn’t know about you. Not really. I thought you and Alfie were over, I swear. I’m so sorry.’
Franny, a good few inches taller than Bree, turned her gaze to her, steady and even. A firmness in her voice. ‘Why are you sorry?’
‘I … I …’
‘Look, Bree, my problem isn’t with you. I know what Alfie is like, but you can appreciate this is hard for me, so I’m going to stay out of your way for now and maybe it’d be best for you to stay out of mine. But it’s not personal.’
Bree scrambled for words. ‘Franny, there’s nothing between Alfie and I. We’re just friends, that’s all.’
With a cold stare, Franny leant in to Bree’s face. She spoke quietly but powerfully, a warning tone in her voice. ‘Did Alfie tell you to say that?’
Thrown and hoping she hadn’t just made anything worse, Bree stammered, ‘What … I … I …’
‘Listen to me, Bree, one thing you need to know about me is that I don’t need to be wrapped up in cotton wool. I like the truth. The other thing you need to know about me is I don’t like games. I don’t like lies, so if you want to stay on the right side of me, a word of advice, don’t mess with me, and then, Bree, you and me will be just fine.’
25
‘Oh, so you’re still saying it’s my fault, are you? That’s rich coming from you. Who was the one who mugged me off, pocketed me money? It was you, Fran, you! So don’t start giving it the holy treatment, like butter wouldn’t melt.’
‘The point is it hardly took you long to fall into bed with someone. How do you think that makes me feel, Alf? God knows how long it would’ve taken you to sleep with someone if I’d died. Knowing you, you probably would’ve picked up someone at my wake and had them in your bed before the priest could say dust to dust.’
‘Turn it in, Fran, now you’re being stupid, and for your information, it wasn’t about the sex.’
‘Oh, so if it wasn’t about the sex, it was to do with how you feel. Finally, you’re admitting that you have feelings for her.’
‘Stop putting words into my mouth. You can be a hard bitch to deal with sometimes and anyway, I thought we were going to try to put this aside for the time being, at least until we sort this mess out that you’ve got us in …’
In the darkness of her bedroom, Alice listened to Alfie and Franny have yet another argument, the sound of their voices coming through the walls. She sighed as she knelt down, hoping her prayers might be answered and somehow she would then feel and think the way she used to. Because right now, right here, everything seemed so confusing, and she hadn’t felt this lost since her mother had died.
Thinking of her mother made the tightness in her chest feel worse. She squeezed her eyes together, but her thoughts, as usual, were clouded, hazy, and all she could see was the face of Sister Margaret covered in blood and the sounds of her classmates being gunned down.
Scared and feeling no peace, Alice pulled her phone from her pocket and began to dial a familiar number.
Nico Russo stood alone in his cell. The moonlight shining through the small window. He closed his eyes, feeling the light, warm breeze coming through the bars. He breathed in deeply, taking the air through his nostrils, imagining Alice, sweet Alice Rose. His body stirred as he thought of her, thinking of what he would do if they were alone. Just her and him. Thinking of the way she would scream.
Nico’s eyes glanced to the phone on his locker lighting up as it buzzed. He smiled as he picked it up.
‘Alice. I was just thinking of you.’
‘Were you?’
Nico spoke softly as he took off his clothes, feeling the cool of the night on his naked body.
‘Yes, I was thinking how nice it would be to be able to share what I’ve learnt with you.’
‘That sounds nice.’
Gently, Nico said, ‘Oh yes, Alice, and I’m sure once I’d finished, you’d pray like you’d never prayed before, like your life depended on it.’
Alice tucked her knees up underneath her as she sat on the thick cream carpet in the darkness. Innocently, she said, ‘Would I?’
‘Trust me, that’s all you’d be doing.’
Closing her eyes and not wanting anyone in the house to hear her, Alice whispered, ‘That would be lovely, Nico, because right now I can’t focus on anything, it’s like …’
‘Go on, Alice.’
‘No, I can’t say it.’
Caressing his chest, Nico crooned warmly to her. ‘We’re friends, Alice, you can tell me anything.’
‘I’m afraid you might think less of me.’
‘Whatever it is, I wouldn’t judge you, that’s not my place, and remember what we said about how keeping secrets was a sin.’
Alice took a deep breath and held back her tears as her words rushed out. ‘It’s just, I feel like I can’t connect anymore. That my belief has left me. All I can see when I close my eyes is blood. Blood everywhere, and sometimes I’m sure I can even smell it.’
Smiling to himself, Nico purred, ‘Poor, poor Alice. Have you told anyone else about this?’
In the darkness, Alice shook her head. ‘No, I don’t want to upset Dad anymore and he wouldn’t understand anyway, no one would.’
‘Except me, Alice.’
‘Yes, except you.’
Lying down on his prison bed, imagining what she would smell like, Nico stifled his groans, then, getting himself under control, he asked, ‘Alice, would you like me to pray for you? I could do that and maybe that would help you in your time of need.’
Alice, overwhelmed by relief, let out a long sigh. ‘Would you really?’
‘Of course, but the one thing I think may help is to actually see you. When I pray for someone I like to have a photo of who I am praying for. When my daughter died, I knelt in front of the photo and it brought me peace. It still brings me peace, I’m looking at her now.’
Nico turned to the blank wall devoid of any pictures or photographs. ‘I’ll put your photograph next to hers, then I won’t just have to imagine what you look like, I’ll be able to see you.’
Full of innocence and warmth, Alice smiled, feeling slightly happier than before. ‘That’s so kind, Nico. I can send you a photo from my phone straightaway. And Nico, when are you coming?’
‘Soon, very soon. Now goodnight, Alice Rose, sleep well.’
A few minutes later, Nico’s phone buzzed again. He opened the photo message and smiled as he studied the picture. ‘There you are, Alice, there you are. Daddy’s looking forward to hearing you scream.’
26
Having successfully avoided both Franny and Bree for the past couple of days, Alfie walked into the kitchen and right away wanted to run. Standing by the far side of the room preparing freshly squeezed orange juice was Franny, and on the other side, trying to seem busy but looking as awkward as he felt, was Bree.
Realising he wouldn’t be able to do an about-turn and sneak away without being seen, Alfie once again said the first words that came to mind. ‘Nice to see you two girls getting on.’
‘Excuse me?’ It was Franny who spoke and glared.
Shit. What was it about Franny that when she decided to put him under the spotlight it made him feel like some kid being reprimanded, like he was on some kind of hook? She’d always been like that. Too damn tough for her own good, too much her own woman. Independent and strong. Compassionate but feisty. Not a recipe for an easy life. But wasn’t that why he loved her? Wasn’t that why they had got together in the first place? Christ, he couldn’t think straight. Everything was a mess. Life had been so much easier when all he had to deal with was staying on top of his game, being a number-one face, no women to worry about, no emotions to have to deal with. Shit. Okay, so he knew that he should be trying to sort it out with Franny and Bree, but all he could really think of was the Russos. He could see Franny was worried too, not that she’d
admit it, not that she’d admit anything for that matter. Not how she felt and certainly not what she was up to.
Irritated by this thought, Alfie turned his attention back to answering Franny.
‘I’m just saying, it’s nice to see you two—’
Franny cut in. ‘Don’t bother repeating it, Alf. We’re grown women, what did you think we were going to do, scratch each other’s eyes out over you?’
Alfie smarted. ‘No, I …’
‘I don’t think he meant anything by it, Fran.’
Franny turned to stare at Bree, slowly and deliberately. ‘First, my name’s Franny, and secondly, I think I’ve known Alfie long enough to know exactly what he meant. I’m not a teenage girl about to start some kind of catfight because her ex had his end away the minute she turned her back. But thank you, Bree, for your concern. Noted.’
Sensing this might not end well, Alfie tried to break the tension. ‘Look, girls—’
Franny, stressed and still very confused, raged, ‘Girls? What is wrong with you, Alf? Bree and I aren’t your bits of play fluff. We’re women, and what we don’t like is to be lied to and put in a compromising position because you decided not to tell the truth.’
Fuming, Alfie barked at Franny, ‘When you’ve quite finished, Emily Pankhurst, let me remind you that it was you who put me in a compromising position in the first place, when you ran off with my money. If it wasn’t for you, I wouldn’t have ended up having a thing with her … Shit, Bree, I didn’t mean that. Wait, don’t go.’
Bree Dwyer shook her head at Alfie as she headed for the door. ‘Yes, you did, we both know that. Look, maybe it’s best if I moved out. I never wanted to cause any trouble.’
Alfie glared at Franny as he pointed at her. ‘See what you’ve done now, Fran?’
‘Me? Are you having a laugh? You must be, because for one minute there I thought you were blaming me for this mess.’
Lighting a cigarette at the corner of his mouth, Alfie said, ‘I am. One hundred fucking per cent of it, because whether you want to believe it or not, I didn’t think you were coming back. I didn’t think you loved me anymore and Lola was right, I was gutted. It felt like someone had put a spike through me chest.’
Just as Franny was about to open her mouth to reply, the kitchen door closed gently as Bree walked out. Franny went to follow her.
‘Leave her, Fran, she’s right, it’s probably for the best.’
Giving Alfie a disdainful stare, Franny took the last sip of her orange juice. ‘For who?’
‘For us.’
‘Grow up, Alfie. There is no us. Bree leaving isn’t suddenly going to put things right. It’s obvious no matter what you say that you’ve got feelings for her and that hurts, it cuts me so deeply, but I’m not going to get back together with someone who doesn’t know where their heart lies.’
Struggling to find the right words, Alfie stuttered and mumbled, ‘It … it lies with you, Fran. It always has. I love you. I mean I might be angry with you for what you and Cabhan did, but … but, Jesus, I can’t imagine not being with you.’
‘Look, I don’t want to do this. In case you’ve forgotten, we’ve got the Russos to think about and what exactly it is we’re going to do about them.’
‘Don’t you think I know that? But I also know you, Fran, you’ll do anything rather than talk about us.’
With Alfie’s words hitting a nerve, Franny bit back. ‘Fine, you want to talk about us, then why don’t we talk about Bree? Come on, tell me how you really feel about her.’
‘Jesus, Fran, why are you doing this? The thing is …’ Alfie stopped, unable to admit to Franny how he felt about Bree, because however much he wanted to write Bree off in his heart, he couldn’t quite manage it. So, if Bree did leave the house, that made it simpler; it was her leaving him. ‘Look, do you want me to choose, is that it, Franny? Do you want me to show you how much I care and say you’re the one, because—’
‘I’m not asking that, but you couldn’t anyway. Admit it, Alfie, just admit that you care for her as well.’
‘Fran …’ Alfie trailed off again, truly stuck for words.
How the hell he’d got himself in this mess he didn’t know. Jesus, he hadn’t been faithful to anyone his entire life, not until Fran, and he’d been happy to do the whole one man, one woman bit because she really had been his everything, until overnight she’d just cut him off. And it’d hurt, hurt so badly he’d been open to anything that had made him feel better, and that anything had been Bree. Though, in truth, he’d really thought it would be a couple of mates getting reacquainted again, going down memory lane. Then bang, the next thing he knew he and Bree had become much more than friends, and as a result his head and heart were all messed up. Shit.
Angrily, picking up his thread, Alfie said, ‘This mess is all down to you, Franny. You burnt out my heart when you said you weren’t coming back … Wait! Where are you going?’
With sadness now filling her rather than anger, Franny shrugged, uncomfortable at showing Alfie any vulnerability. ‘I thought you’d changed, that the old Alfie who went around hurting people and playing games had gone, but hello, here he is, standing in front of me in all his glory. You make me sick, and if you won’t go and see if Bree’s all right, I will.’
‘Fran! Come on, sweetheart, please.’
At the door, Franny turned around to look at Alfie in pity. ‘There’s one thing I hate more than liars and that’s cowards, and you, Alfie Jennings, are a coward.’
‘Bree, what are you doing?’ Franny stood at the bedroom door watching Bree, tears rolling down her cheeks as she threw her clothes into a large cream canvas zip bag.
As she continued to watch, she felt a pang of sympathy for Bree, knowing what it was like to be caught up in a situation that you had no control over. The other thing she felt was envy. It was strange, but she was envious that Bree could stand there and cry, letting out her feelings, connecting to her pain, being honest about how she felt. That was something Franny so wished she could do, because then she could tell Alfie that the thought of him being intimate with another woman sliced at her heart like a razor blade. That she’d missed him more than she thought was possible …
Still, she knew it wasn’t Bree’s fault, none of it, which just made it worse, because how much simpler would it be to blame her? It also didn’t help that despite everything, she couldn’t quite bring herself to dislike Bree. No, the only person at the moment she disliked was herself for causing all this. For hurting Alfie, which in turn had hurt Bree, so the least she could do, no matter how much she’d like it all to disappear, was to sort it out.
Without looking up, Bree eventually answered. ‘What does it look like?’
‘It looks like you’re running away.’
Whirling round to look at Franny, Bree’s expression held confusion. ‘Just leave me alone. What do you want from me, Franny? I don’t belong here. The sooner I’m gone, the better.’
‘And what about your daughter?’
‘She won’t be in your way, if that’s what you mean. I’ll come and collect her when she’s back from holiday.’
‘Bree, you know that’s not what I meant.’
Bree stared at Franny, unsure quite what her intentions were. ‘Just let me get on, okay?’
‘No, not until we have it out.’
Confused and upset, Bree stood with her hands on her hips. ‘What is there to say? You’ve come back and that’s the end of it.’
Franny grabbed hold of Bree’s arm. ‘There’s a lot to say! I want to know what Alfie said to you, how you feel about him, how you feel about me turning up.’
‘That’s a joke from you. You haven’t shown any emotion since you found out about me. I don’t know you, Franny, but I do know you’re going around making out that you don’t care, that you don’t feel anything, but that’s not true, is it? But I guess if you do that and act that way it’ll keep everyone at a distance.’
Pulling back, Franny coolly said, ‘Don’t yo
u worry about me, Bree, I’m fine. I’m not the enemy here; this is messed up and I’m just trying to find a way through this, for all of us.’
Bree pushed her long hair behind her ears. ‘Like I said, I’m not wanting any trouble, I’ve had enough of that in my time. I just want a peaceful life.’
‘Is there such a thing, Bree?’
Zipping and picking up the bag, Bree walked into the hallway, making her way down the oak-panelled staircase with Franny a few steps behind.
‘I don’t know, but I’m not going to find it here, am I?’
‘Bree, please don’t go … I … I feel bad. I feel responsible.’
‘I’m not looking for you to feel guilty, I’m just looking to get out of this before it becomes too painful.’
Talking quickly, Franny said, ‘So where are you going to go?’
‘I don’t know, Franny. I’ll find somewhere, though. Look, I’m grateful for your concern, but you don’t have to worry. I might not come across as tough as you, but I’m a survivor, I always have been.’
Following Bree out into the sunshine and along the white gravelled driveway to the large, imposing gates, Franny broke into a jog to run in front of her. Irritation rising in her.
‘Why does everyone assume I’m tough?’
Bree looked at Franny kindly. ‘Come on, Franny, why do you think?’
‘What? Because I work in the business I do? Because I’m my father’s daughter? Or because I don’t cry in movies when the guy loses the girl?’
‘Yes, for all those reasons, but it isn’t a bad thing, it’s just who you are.’
Franny’s chestnut hair blew across her face in the warm wind and, surprised at the sudden wave of emotions welling up inside her, she said, ‘You’re wrong, it’s what I’ve had to become, but I still have a heart. I still hurt like you do, but I just don’t show it in the same way … Look, Bree, just think a minute. There’s no need to rush off like this, you don’t have to go. And as hard as this might be for me to admit, I get it. I get why Alfie got together with you in the first place. I know Alfie. What I did would’ve hurt him really badly and I never wanted that, ever. It’s just that I had to think of Cabhan and Alice, I had to try to do something, and Alfie was a sacrifice I had to make and that’s a tough one to accept. So … and I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I’m pleased he had you. I’m pleased that being with you stopped him hurting too much.’