by Jane Corry
‘You’re too young, princess.’
‘It’s not fair.’
‘Why don’t you stay at home and finish off your craft badge for Guides? You’ve still got some catching up to do, haven’t you, Kitty?’
My sister pouted. ‘I’ve gone off knitting.’
‘I’ve got an invitation.’ The words come out of my mouth before I can take them back.
‘You!’ They all turned to look at me.
I went beetroot. ‘Yes.’
Kitty put her hands on her hips. ‘How come?’ ‘Crispin asked me.’
It was true. He’d invited a smattering of
sixth-formers – including me, to my surprise. I hadn’t been intending to go. Parties weren’t my thing. But the jealous look on my sister’s face was worth the last-minute change of mind.
If I’d known what was to come, I’d have ripped up the invitation into tiny pieces.
‘Heard you were going to the party too,’ said Robin casually.
We were walking back home from the bus stop. Kitty and Vanessa, as usual, were dragging along behind, sniggering and making silly comments. My stepsister seemed to have got it into her head that there was something between Robin and me. In fact, nothing could be further from the truth. It was actually because I didn’t fancy him that I was able to talk so naturally. And I was sure he felt the same.
Parties certainly weren’t high up on our agenda. So I was a bit surprised by the ‘too’ part of his question.
I looked at him in surprise. ‘Are you going, then?’ ‘Thought I might as well.’ He spoke with what seemed like studied carelessness. Perhaps he was taking someone with him.
‘Watch out!’
For a minute, I thought Robin was talking to me. Then I realized his warning was directed at Kitty and Vanessa. They’d crept up beside us and were now about to dash across the road – despite the fact that a lorry was steaming round the corner.
I lunged forward and caught my sister’s sleeve just in time. ‘You know you’re not meant to cross without me,’ I said. Fear made my voice shake with anger. Mum and David would never forgive me if something happened to my sister. Hold her hand, they always said. Usually, I managed to do so. But Kitty had a mind of her own.
‘We were fine,’ said Vanessa sulkily. ‘We’re not babies, you know.’
‘It’s a nasty road.’ Robin’s voice was calm as always. ‘Why don’t you keep your nose out of other people’s businesses.’
How rude! But Vanessa was like that. She could also be very charming when she wanted. I’d seen her in action.
‘Are you going to take my sister to the party?’ said Kitty loudly as we stood in line, me hanging on to her hand, waiting for the traffic to clear.
‘Of course he’s not,’ I said, flushing madly.
Robin was silent. Once we’d got to the other side and the girls had gone running off towards Vanessa’s house, he cleared his throat. ‘Actually, I was wondering if you wanted me to pick you up on the way.’
‘Really? Why? I mean, I know how to get there.’
I didn’t mean to be so abrupt but, to be honest, I’d been taken aback by his unexpected offer.
Robin was going red now. ‘I just thought it might be nice to arrive with someone. It’s not as though we’re part of the crowd, is it?’
‘I know. In fact, I don’t know why he asked me.’
‘Or me.’
Suddenly the thought of turning up at a house full of Crispin and his friends laughing and drinking and smoking made me feel nervous. If I hadn’t announced to Kitty that I was going, I’d have changed my mind and stayed at home. But she would only tease me. ‘Boring Ali.’ I could hear the taunts now. ‘Gets invited to the party of the year and then pulls out.’
I wasn’t going to give her that pleasure. Besides, Robin was right. It would be nice to have someone to arrive with.
For the first time in as long as I could remember, I actually felt good about myself.
6 June 2001
Horrible day. Ali was all bossy on the bus just because I wouldn’t share my Creme Egg that Mum had put in my packed lunch.
Ali pretended she didn’t care. She told me – get this – that chocolate gave you spots.
It makes me hate her more than ever.
On the bus I heard Crispin whisper something to one of his friends. I heard him say her name.
It was like he fancied her. Ali? Honestly? She’s so boring and geeky.
And now she’s invited to his summer party. With any luck, she’ll make a fool of herself. Dance badly. Or just sit in a corner and not say anything. Then Crispin will realize he likes me, not her.
30
March 2017
Alison
I’m so spooked out by the phone call from the prison that I put Lead Man out of my head for a while. Instead, I try to keep my wits about me when I’m inside. Someone here is after me.
The only thing that helps is to concentrate on my students – especially Martin and Stefan, who really do have definite potential. ‘Your classes are the best thing here, miss,’ he tells me. I can’t help but glow with the compliment.
Then, one Saturday, when I’m browsing at a stall on the Embankment, someone taps me on the shoulder.
It’s him. Clive. Lead Man. In shorts and a T-shirt, soaked with sweat. I suddenly remember how he’d told me he enjoyed running alongside the river too.
‘What a coincidence,’ he says. ‘I’ve been thinking of you. What are you doing tonight?’ Then he gives me a disarming smile. ‘And before you think of an excuse, I won’t take no for an answer.’
We go to an Italian in Crouch End. I’ve never been there before. The waitress clearly knows him. I tell myself that this is a man who must have wined and dined several women over the years. With looks like that, it’s not surprising. I also tell myself that he can’t possibly be interested in me. Too-tall, clumsy Alison. He’s probably filling in time until his next trip.
‘I wanted to explain why I couldn’t come to your class.’ He’s speaking fast, as if nervous. ‘I got called out to Portugal for a series of unexpected meetings. Otherwise I’d have loved to come.’
‘I’ve been to Portugal too.’ It pops out before I can stop myself.
‘Oh really? It’s a beautiful place. They love their colours, don’t they?’
I think back to our last holiday before the accident. We’d gone – Mum, David, Kitty and I – to a villa near Vale do Lobo. Mum and Kitty had taken their sketch pads. Mum had also bought loads of pottery in bright colours. Yellows. Blues. Pinks. Maybe that’s why I love my different coloured scarves so much. They make me think of her. Time for another visit soon, I tell myself.
‘Whoops!’ I’ve knocked over my glass. The waiter races over to mop up the table. ‘I’m so sorry.’
‘If you don’t mind me saying,’ says Lead Man, leaning towards me. ‘You seem rather distracted. Is everything OK?’
‘My sister got married.’ The words burst out of my mouth before I can take them back. I’ve barely talked to anyone for the last few days. I’m out of practice. Now I have to brace myself for the questions. Normal, polite ones. How can I possibly answer them truthfully?
‘How lovely. Was it a big wedding?’
I think back to the community lounge with its forty or so residents and the excited sixth-former who played the piano.
‘Medium sized.’ My eyes can’t help filling with tears.
Immediately, I feel a hand taking mine. ‘Weddings can make us all feel emotional.’ The grip tightens.
I can’t hold back now. This time a handkerchief is being pressed into my hands. A large, cotton one. Not dissimilar to the ones I use to wrap my glass offcuts.
‘Alison, what is it?’
So I tell him. Not everything. But enough. I explain that my sister had a ‘terrible road accident’ years ago which left her brain damaged. And that, despite the odds, she had now fallen in love with someone in her care home and – incredibly – got pregnant.<
br />
His eyes widen as I talk. ‘How will they manage with a baby?’
‘That’s what we’ve all been asking. But Johnny – that’s her husband – really adores her. Luckily, his mother seems very supportive.’
‘And your parents?’
I’d already mentioned Mum briefly in passing but not David. That would be too much. ‘My mother’s concerned. As I am.’
‘You’ve a lot on your plate.’ His eyes are deep with sympathy. ‘And what about your prison work. How’s that going?’
As he speaks, my mobile rings. ‘Sorry,’ I say, reaching into my bag. I thought I’d put it on silent. It’s the same number as before. D hut.
‘What’s wrong?’ he asks, reading my face.
‘Someone’s calling me from one of the prison huts,’ I whisper. ‘I don’t know who. I haven’t picked up again after the last time.’
‘Give me the phone.’
I hand it over.
‘Who’s that?’ His voice is hard. Commanding. ‘I don’t know who you are,’ I hear him say. ‘But we know where you’re ringing from. You will be found.’
Then he turns it off and hands it back to me. ‘All I heard was breathing.’
‘How will we find him?’ I say. ‘It could be any of the men there.’
‘Doesn’t matter. It will have worried whoever it was. Hopefully he won’t do it again. You’ll have to change your number.’ Then he frowns. ‘If he’s rung before, why haven’t you done that already?’
It’s a question I’ve been asking myself. ‘It sounds silly,’ I falter, ‘but I’m beginning to feel there’s no escape. This man … he’s determined to find me.’
My voice chokes and tears blur my vision. I’m on the verge of saying something stupid. Like I deserve to be caught. But I stop myself just in time.
‘Not if I’m here,’ he says firmly. ‘And right now you’re having dinner with me.’
He’s taking my hand again. Somehow I feel my heartbeat slowing down just a bit.
‘There’s something else too,’ I add. Suddenly I want to unburden myself to this man who makes me feel safe.
I tell him about the threatening notes, the Christmas card. I don’t mean to but I’ve got to the point that if I don’t share it with someone, I’m going to go crazy. I can’t confide in Mum because it would scare her too much. Besides, Lead Man has proved his worth with that phone call just now.
He listens solemnly. ‘Have you any idea who’s trying to intimidate you?’
I think back to the sunny morning all those years ago. Vanessa’s crushed body. Kitty’s new shoe on the ground.
I know your secret.
‘No,’ I say, with a choke in my voice. ‘I’ve no idea at all. That’s what makes it so terrifying.’
He leans across the table. I breathe in his smell. There’s the faint hint of a lemon cologne. ‘Listen to me, Alison,’ he says, releasing me briefly before cupping my chin and looking straight into my eyes. ‘I won’t let anyone hurt you. You have my word.’
31
June 2001
Ali
I deliberately didn’t bother about my appearance. If I had, it would have made me too nervous. ‘You’re going to Crispin Wright’s party like that?’ said Kitty, eyeing my pale blue jeans and simple white T-shirt. She rolled her eyes as though she were the older sister giving advice to a younger one. ‘Aren’t you even going to put on proper make-up?’
‘I’m wearing mascara,’ I said defensively.
‘Panda eyes, more like. I give up.’ Sulkily she went back to the sofa, where she was watching one of her mindless programmes. ‘Honestly, that party is wasted on you.’
‘Your time will come,’ said David. I hadn’t noticed him entering. ‘Anyway, aren’t you meant to be having a sleepover at Vanessa’s, princess?’
Kitty pouted. ‘It’s not the same.’
‘Your neck looks a bit bare,’ said Mum, eyeing me up and down. She was at the kitchen table, preparing some tree sketches for her local authority class to do on Monday. ‘Don’t you have a necklace, darling? Or something you could borrow?’ She looked meaningfully at my sister’s locket.
‘It’s mine. There’s no way you’re having this for the party,’ snapped my sister. ‘Or any other time either.’
The doorbell went. I didn’t want her stupid locket anyway.
‘Bye,’ I said, hastily heading for the door. But Kitty got there first.
‘Hi, Robin.’ Then she turned and yelled, even though I was just behind her. ‘Ali! Your date is here.’
Date? How embarrassing!
‘Sorry about that,’ I murmured, slamming the door behind me.
‘Sorry about what?’
‘My sister.’
He shrugged. ‘Everyone’s different.’ Then he gently put his hand in the small of my back as we crossed the road. That was strange. It was hardly like it was dangerous.
The music grew louder as we walked towards the Wrights’ house. The outside was studded with loads of little fairy lights and there were huge smart cars blocking the driveway. I began to feel sick. Too late, I wished I’d bothered to put on more make-up, or wear a nicer top. ‘We don’t have to stay long if we don’t want,’ said Robin as if he knew just what I was thinking.
Inside, there were waitresses with glasses on trays. Wow!
‘Champagne?’
‘No thanks,’ I said bashfully. ‘I don’t drink.’ I knew it made me uncool, but whenever I’d tried alcohol, it made me feel sick.
‘There’s some non-alcoholic drinks in the back, miss. Near the conservatory.’
Miss! Judging from Robin’s twitching lips, he thought that was funny too.
Together, Robin and I tried to wade through the mass of bodies. So many people. All ages too. There were quite a few from the sixth form but also loads of adults I’d never seen before. At one point I thought I recognized Crispin’s mother, whom I’d seen a couple of times on the street.
Robin said something to me but the music was so loud that I couldn’t hear. He moved closer. I could feel his mouth touching my ear. It felt weird. ‘Wait there. I’ll get some squash.’
‘Can’t I come too?’ I said, but he’d gone. Now I really wished I hadn’t come. I felt so stupid, standing there on my own. I tried to look casual but the more I did so, the more awkward I felt. Robin was taking ages. Hurry up, I said silently. My palms were sweating. I felt like an idiot.
For a second the music stopped. ‘Ali,’ said a voice. I jumped. Crispin was standing next to me. ‘Someone said you were here!’
I was so flummoxed I could barely reply. He spoke as though we knew each other well, even though we’d hardly exchanged a word either on the school bus or in class. That’s why I’d been so amazed to get an invitation. ‘You look great!’
Was he joking?
‘Come and dance!’
Cool Crispin Wright was actually asking me to dance? Kitty would go mad with jealousy if she knew!
‘I can’t. I’m waiting for Robin.’
‘Robin Hood?’
He grinned. To my shame, I gave a little laugh too, out of nervousness. Instantly, I felt ashamed at making fun of my friend.
‘He’s in the summer house at the bottom of the garden,’ shouted Crispin over the music. ‘Asked me to tell you he was there. Got something for you, apparently.’
Only Robin would retreat into a summer house – nursing my drink, no doubt – while a party was going on. I knew why, of course. He wanted some quiet time. In fact, he was probably already regretting joining a crowd he had always despised. I still didn’t really know why he’d come along.
Crispin’s hand brushed my own. Then I became aware of his fingers interlacing between mine. It felt warm. Exciting.
He was pulling me. Laughing as if we were both in on a joke. ‘This way!’
32
March 2017
Alison
I wake in the small hours of the morning, my head whirling. Clive’s hug had turned into a seri
es of lovely long kisses that had made my entire body want to blend into his. The kind I’d dreamed of as a teenager until the party …
Then all of a sudden he’d stopped. ‘Alison, there’s nothing I’d like more than to ask if I can come back to your place. But some things are too precious to rush. Don’t you think?’
No, I’d wanted to say. Stay with me. Hadn’t he promised that he wouldn’t let anyone hurt me?
‘Ring me,’ he’d said. ‘Any time you feel worried about anything. See you soon.’
Then he’d kissed me one more time and escorted me back to my car.
When I get home, there’s a text.
Miss you already. I’ve got some work commitments but I’ll call as soon as I know when I’m free.
All of that day – and the next – I find myself occasionally smiling to myself. Somehow, knowing Lead Man is there for me makes me feel better. Perhaps everything will be OK after all. Maybe my fortunes are changing along with my sister’s. But right now I need to concentrate on my next class.
At the end, Stefan – my older student with the east European accent – stays behind.
‘I help you tidy?’ he asks, limping up.
Kindness can be the first step in grooming, Angela always said. Not that I should be following her advice any more.
‘Thank you but I’ll manage.’
He looks affronted. I glance down at the walking stick. What if he uses it on me? Why is it allowed in here when you can’t even bring an umbrella inside?
‘I want to ask you something.’ He puts his head to one side quizzically. ‘Why you do work in place like this?’
It’s not the first time I’ve been asked this. My answer is ready and pat. A little curt, too. ‘Because I love art and want to help others enjoy it.’
He purses his lips questioningly. ‘I see.’ Then his eyes harden. ‘Be careful. This place, she is not good. You watch yourself.’
His words send shivers through my blood. Does he know something? Is he trying to warn me?
I stare as he limps away. There’s just time in between workshops for me to nip out to the car and check my new phone. No missed calls.