Waiting for Grace

by Oakes, Hayley

“My brother, he’s out. I got this letter at work today.” She took a sip of her amber liquid and winced as she did, handing me a letter.

  I looked at the letter and it simply read, I’m out, Joe.

  “Maria, don’t panic. It’s fine. He must be a new man if he’s out, a changed man.”

  “Oh God,” she groaned. “He won’t change. He’s fooled them. He’s just evil, Grace, and he wants me. He wants me and he’ll come. He knows where I work for God’s sake. I don’t care what they say, how they think he’s changed, he murdered a man and now he’s free. It’s not even been ten years!” she wailed. “I need to get the hell away from here, me and Max, I can’t stay here, not in London ‘cause he’ll come for me.”

  “No, no,” I soothed. “It’s not worth his while, he won’t. That was the drugs, there’s no need to run.”

  “Grace …” she turned to me, her eyes making direct contact with mine, more serious than I had ever seen them. “I have never known anyone more dangerous, and I swear to God if he finds me then he will stop at nothing. He wants to control me, and in some sick way he thinks that’s his job. He’s a nut job and me and Max, we aren’t safe.” I hugged her again and then glanced back to Robert who was looking on worriedly, scratching the back of his head at a loss as to what to say.

  “Maria, maybe I can help,” Robert sighed. “We can get an injunction, make him stay away.”

  Maria looked at him with complete contempt. “Pieces of paper don’t stop psychos!” she spat. “Only prisons and guns do.”

  I smiled to Robert and he nodded. “You go Robert,” I said. “It’s late.”

  “You’re telling me to go when we’ve just heard that a psycho is beating a path to your door, I don’t think so.”

  “We’re fine,” I said getting up and walking towards him. I pushed him into the hallway and shut the door so Maria couldn’t hear.

  “I think she’s overreacting,” I sighed.

  “Have you met this guy? ‘Cause she seems to know him better than you and is scared shitless.”

  “Well, no I don’t know him, but if he’s been released they’ll have done psychiatric tests and stuff. he should be a new man. A repentant man.”

  “Grace, I’ve seen some shit at work and some men that leave prison are more twisted than when they went in.”

  “Robert, please, for tonight just go, and me and Maria will figure this out.”

  “Let me help.” He put his hands on my shoulders. “Let me get you all out of here until we figure out where he is.”

  “No,” I shook my head. “No, we can cope, okay?” His persistence started to annoy me, and the warm feeling from before was replaced by irritation. Robert had showed me a nice picture today. He had shown me a lovely dream life that may have been mine years ago if I had stayed in Poulton. If I hadn’t changed. However, I had changed and I had forged a team with Maria. We were indestructible. We were a family and tonight she needed me. She needed me alone and not me and my ex-boyfriend. Robert noticed my defiance.

  “Don’t push me away Grace,” he whispered, as he pulled me into an embrace. His words echoed from years ago when he first saw my Mum passed out on the floor. I let him hold me.

  “I just need space okay? I’m used to solving my own problems and I admit that we have something, and I love spending time with you as does Devon, but this,” I pulled back from his arms and motioned my hands around me, “this place is me and Maria, we are a team, we are each other’s family and please, tonight just don’t try and save us. Just let us deal with this and if I need you, please trust that I will call.”

  “Okay.” He nodded. “Okay, but I want you to text me in the morning. I won’t sleep a wink.” He sighed. “You might not need me Grace, but I sure as hell need you. You and Devon are my life now, and I can’t believe that I lived all these years in the dark. I’ll give you your space, Grace, but please don’t use this as an excuse to push me away.”

  I smiled tightly and nodded, tears in my eyes. “I won’t, but this is nothing to do with you.”

  He kissed my forehead. “I’ll speak to you tomorrow,” he said, not acknowledging my comment. He knew what I was trying to say. He knew that we were here and functioned well enough before he came along. I was assuming survival mode and that didn’t include daydreaming about a future with my ex, or sparing his feelings. However, despite the years apart, Robert did know me all too well and he knew I was pushing him away. My guard was firmly back up; he just wouldn’t be accepting that.

  Nineteen

  Seven Years Earlier

  The summer was drawing to a close. I had the letter that Diane had sent safely tucked into my purse, and as August was ending, my anticipation to start chasing my sister was heightened. Robert was planning our return already. The car was having some difficulties, and he had called his dad for some advice who advised us to return immediately, but we weren’t ready. I wondered if Robert was worried, if he sensed that deep down I really didn’t want to return. The problem was that no matter how much my life repulsed me back with my mum, a life without Robert was fast becoming unbearable, so I was going to have to return. Somewhere along this journey, somewhere in this hedonistic summer, I had decided that Robert was my life and the fantasies I had about Diane were just make-believe. I wanted to be strong enough and brave enough to stay away, become my own person, but I couldn’t do that without him.

  It was the final week of August and Jonah had texted to say that his friend still hadn’t sold his Reading tickets and so if we wanted them, they’d be half price. We didn’t have much money left, but I had some in my emergency savings that I was keeping for when I left home.

  “We can use that Robert, honestly, I’ll make it back next year.”

  “I’ll pay you back,” he said, kissing me.

  “No need,” I sighed into his mouth as he pulled me close. “You’re parents are expecting us back this weekend, though, and we still have London, yet.”

  “I know,” he groaned. “But we’ll be back the weekend after, and I’ll miss a few days of sixth form. It’ll be fine.”

  “She’ll freak.” I laughed.

  ***

  After a difficult call to Barbara where she shouted at him for being irresponsible, juvenile, uncaring, untrustworthy, and many more things, she burst into tears and insisted on speaking to me. I found her tone of voice hard work. It was very uncomfortable, and I knew that when we got home, there would be no way I was ever allowed to stay at their house again.

  We cruised into Reading at midday on that last Friday of August, met up with Jonah and Al and their entourage, queuing together to get in and get camped near each other. Once we all erected our tents, we grabbed our beers, cigarettes, and waterproofs, and headed off to the stages. Robert had his arm casually thrown over my shoulder, and we laughed easily with our new found friends. “I hate civilisation,” Robert whispered to me. “This is so much more fun.”

  I smiled back at him and because we knew it would be our last weekend of freedom, we embraced it as if it were our last weekend on Earth. We made it count. On the Friday night we rocked to The Killers, Queens of the Stone Age, and Kasabian. It was amazing and the atmosphere was electric. There were also awesome food kiosks that were serving noodles that were out of this world. We made it back to the tent, muddy and filthy, laughing.

  As Robert kissed me that night and peeled my clothes away so he could kiss my naked body he whispered, “Grace, there is no one else I would want to share this with.” He kissed me slowly along my stomach and made his way to my breasts. I moaned. “Tell me you’ll never leave me,” he hissed, biting me.

  I yelped. “I’ll never leave you,” I sighed. “Couldn’t, even if I wanted to.”

  “You better never want to,” he said, slapping my bum as he grabbed it roughly.

  The following day and night was much of the same, more beer, bands, food, and good times. There weren’t any decent showers, and so we just got progressively smellier, and so did the portable toilets tha
t we had to use. By Sunday we were absolutely knackered but stayed for the final night with Jonah and Al to enjoy My Chemical Romance and Marilyn Manson. We all jumped together to the music and beer spilled everywhere. It was like a scene from a coming of age teen movie about freedom, love, friends for life, and new found independence.

  “I love you guys,” Jonah, said, bouncing with us to the music, his arms draped over both of us. “We have to stay in touch. Friends for life!” he shouted, and we agreed.

  On the Monday morning it was the calm after the storm as hundreds of severely hung over people were trying to exit the large plot of land all at the same time. The car was protesting, the journey was boggy and long, but we eventually made it onto the motorway after four hours of queuing. We looked at each other and the smiles were tight. This was it, the road to London, the road to that address, and finally the answer to my family history. Would I find my sister, would she explain why she left, and did she now know that her father had died?

  We drove along the M4 to London and the old Fiesta was shuddering at high speeds, so Robert had to slow down. He was also suffering from a severe hang over, as was I, and we absolutely stunk.

  “What would you say if I suggested that when we arrive in London, we find a cheap hotel, check-in, get showered, and have an early night. Tackling this address tomorrow?”

  “I would say that sounds like a bloody good plan.” I smiled. “So long as there is a telly that is showing mind-numbing television, and we can get a pizza.”

  “Deal.” He grinned. “My head hurts.”

  “My body hurts,” I sighed.

  We chugged into the city at twilight. It was amazing. I had seen London on films, television, and in school books since I was a child, but I had never been. I wasn’t prepared for the overwhelming feeling of belonging that I suddenly felt as we drove past landmarks I instantly recognised. This was the city for the lost to be found, a place for the masses to mould together as one, and a place where everyone could pave their own way and live out their dreams. We drove behind steady traffic and I saw Big Ben, the houses of Parliament, the London Eye, and as we passed over the River Thames, I hung out the window. I was awestruck. I couldn’t keep the smile off my face.

  We were looking out for any Tourist Information Centres that were open, or anywhere offering a cheap night’s accommodation. We didn’t have much money left, and so we were only planning to stay for a couple of nights at the most and so the cheaper the better. So long as there was running water, clean sheets, and a television I would be happy. We drove onwards and approached the ring road that passed Buckingham Palace.

  “Oh my God, it’s just amazing close up.” I sighed, unable to hide my excitement.

  “As if you didn’t know what it looked like,” Robert sighed, rolling his eyes. “Keep your eyes peeled for cheap B&Bs, Grace.”

  “Someone’s grumpy.” I laughed.

  “Just tired,” he said, squeezing my hand. “For the first time in this whole holiday, I’d kill to be at home, Mum’s hot fluffy towels, full fridge, and Dad’s wide screen.” He looked to me and grinned, but all I could do was frown. The talk of going home brought my mood to an all time low and I started to wonder if I could actually go. I loved Robert and he was my home, but there was nothing about my home that I relished going back to. This city made me feel alive. Robert, on the other hand, seemed ready to return. As we attempted to drive on, suddenly the car shuddered uncontrollably and reached a complete stop. As it did, I looked to Robert agape and he to me. We were in the middle lane of a three-lane roundabout and cars were whizzing by, beeping.

  “God, Robert, move the car,”

  He tried to turn the engine over, “I can’t!” he barked. “Shit, shit, shit.” He bashed his hands on the steering wheel. “It’s dead.”

  “Dead?” I asked, eyes wide. “It can’t be.”

  “It is!” he shouted and I looked out of the window again as more cars screeched past. Terror took over. “What are we going to do?” I wailed.

  “Shit,” Robert said, “smoke.” As I looked up I saw that the engine was smoking. “We need to get out.”

  “But the cars,” I wailed.

  “Come on,” he said. “Unbuckle your belt and climb out this side.”

  I unbuckled and Robert tentatively opened his door, easing himself onto the road. The smoke started to get thicker and I began to cough. I unbuckled and climbed over to Robert’s chair where he reached in for me and eased me out. “Wait, my bag.” I reached back and coughing, grabbed my handbag.

  “Come on!” Robert shouted. “You need to get out, now.” I did and he pulled me up to stand next to him, gripping me to him tightly. “Jesus Grace, you could have choked in there.”

  “I’m fine.” I smiled to him. “Sorry, we need a phone.”

  He gripped my hand and we began to cross the road to the pavement. When we reached the other side we could already hear sirens as someone had called the fire brigade. We both fell onto the pavement, coughing, and watched in horror as the smoke began to escape the car thicker and faster. People continued to walk past, cars continued to drive, but we just couldn’t tear our eyes away from the car full of thick, black smoke that we had sat in moments ago.

  The fire engine reached the car and the firemen jumped out, dousing the rising smoke before a fire erupted. We just held hands, watching in stunned silence, and eventually an ambulance arrived with paramedics.

  “Is that your car?” a male paramedic asked as we continued to stare.

  “Yes,” Robert stuttered. “We, um …”

  “Not from round here, eh?” he asked and we both looked to him, stunned.

  “No.” I shook my head.

  “You got mobiles? You’ll need a tow truck. Take a seat, I need to check your breathing. You think you need to get checked out at A&E?” he asked.

  “Erm …” Robert looked to me. “Erm … I’m okay, Grace?”

  “I feel okay,” I said, followed by a swift cough.

  “Let me listen to your chest,” the paramedic said, “come on to the back of the ambulance and we’ll give you some oxygen.”

  “I’m okay.” I shook my head.

  “No, come on, Grace.” Robert threw his arm around me. “Come on let’s do as he says, better safe than sorry. You get some air and I’ll call my dad.”

  “Okay.” I sighed and followed the paramedic.

  I sat in the back of the ambulance for ten minutes breathing oxygen and answering questions whilst the paramedic listened to my chest. He determined I was fine, and when I emerged from the back of the ambulance, all our bags were on the pavement. Robert was shouting into his phone with tears in his eyes and when he looked up to me I had never seen him look so scared.

  “Oh Robert,” I said, putting my arms around him as he shouted down the phone.

  “God knows Dad, it just started smoking … I don’t know, they don’t know, it’s a bloody wreck … oh God, don’t start, this could have happened anywhere, here or home … London, okay we’re in London … oh God, don’t freak … Jesus, Mum, please stop shouting!”

  I walked to our stuff and let him have his argument. I knew Barbara would be less than happy that we had lied and come to London as part of our trip, rather than heading home. She had no idea we were hitting big cities and would not be happy with us staying the night here, considering it too dangerous for us. I could hear her shouting from my seat on the pavement. Whilst Robert spoke, some police officers arrived and approached me.

  “Hello there,” the first one said. He was a middle-aged man with tanned skin and dark features. “I take it you are the owners of the car.

  “Yes.” I nodded with a tight smile.

  “I am PC Owen and this is PC Patel,” he said, motioning to his pretty, young Asian partner, a girl who couldn’t have been more that twenty-five. “So we need to get a tow truck out here as soon as possible. Can’t be holding up the traffic like this.”

  “Right,” I said. “Well, I think that’s what m
y boyfriend is doing.” I motioned to where Robert stood, nodding my head. He was pacing the pavement, continuing his difficult conversation.

  “Right,” PC Owen said, “sir!” he shouted to Robert as he approached. “Can you please end the call, we need to sort this car out.”

  After that the officers helped us order a tow truck and then the firm called Robert’s parents to arrange a fee. We were left with bags that smelled of smoke and ourselves stinking of days old festival. We were a mess. The twilight was starting to fade and the night drew in, it must have been nine o’ clock and we were starving.

  “Where are you staying?” PC Owen asked us, as he was about to leave us forlorn on the pavement.

  “We need to find somewhere,” Robert said, pulling me to him. We both looked lost, me with tears of despair in my eyes.

  “I know a place,” he said. “Sunita, that hostel, they do private rooms don’t they?”

  “Yep, sure do Gaz, it’s my Uncle’s place, shall I call ahead?”

  “Well?” PC Owen asked, “£20 a night, clean enough, but just full of bloody tourists.” We both smiled and nodded enthusiastically.

  “Yes please,” I nodded.

  “Great, please check, and we’ll get a cab.”

  “Ah … forget it, get in the back of our car. I’ve got a lad your age, would hate to see him stranded here at night with nowhere to go.”

  “Thank you,” I said, grinning to Robert through tears that were threatening to fall. “God, we are so grateful.”

  “No problem, come on get those bags and let’s get going. We’ll find you somewhere.”

  “You’re in,” PC Patel said as she put her mobile back in her pocket. “He’s got a few rooms spare, end of summer and all that, so there’s one tonight.”

  “Great, thanks,” Robert said shaking his head. “Our car blowing up sort of ruined our plans.”

  “Hey, we see it all around here,” PC Patel sighed. “Now come on, our shift’s nearly over and I’m done in.”

  The police officers gave us a lift to the Hostel, which was almost twenty minutes drive. We hauled our bags inside, were given a private room that didn’t have an en suite bathroom, but it was private enough, and there was a common room on the floor with a television in it. It was almost ten by the time we arrived and dropped our bags onto the floor in the room.