‘Yeah, they are.’
‘Two little lovebirds.’
‘I guess.’
‘Ashley told me earlier that she thinks you need some fun.’
Sally tried turning to him, but his massaging hands forced her rooted to the spot. ’Some fun?’ she asked.
‘She mentioned you didn’t have a boyfriend.’
Sally paused. ‘Did she now?’
‘You’re on holiday, I’m sure you’re looking for fun.’
‘I don’t know if I am.’
‘You should try to have fun. Relax.’ His thumbs rotated into her back. The pressure was starting to hurt. Sally tried not to react knowing he’d take pleasure from that. ‘You’re only young once. You don’t want to look back and regret not doing anything while you were free on holiday.’
His massaging really started to hurt. She had to say something. ‘Can you please stop that.’
‘Stop what?’
‘Your massaging. It’s painful.’
Jim let go of her back and raised his arms. She exhaled in relief. ‘You need to loosen up, Sally. Enjoy yourself. I’m sure I can help you find something,’ he said.
‘Okay.’
‘You better drink up,’ he said, pointing at her drink. ‘You better get that in you.’
There was nothing she could say to that.
From the pool table, Ashley erupted in a cheer.
‘What happened?’ Jim asked in her direction.
A dejected Sam shuffled over. ‘She beat me,’ he said, laying his pool cue on the table.
‘That was so much fun.’ Ashley jumped in excitement, her wide grin flashing white. Sally wanted to go now. Go home.
‘Another drink everyone?’ Jim suggested. ‘Or, we could move on to another bar?’
Ashley wrapped her arms around Sam’s neck. ‘How about a small suggestion?’
‘What is it?’ Jim asked.
‘We can go back to our hostel room? We have some drinks there.’
No, no, no. The image of the boys in the hostel room made her panic. That was the last thing she wanted. She glanced at Ashley, begging with her eyes to stop this.
‘That sounds like a plan. What do you think, Sam?’ asked Jim.
‘Please, Sam,’ Ashley asked, tugging at his arm. She took no notice of Sally’s silent refusal.
‘It’s a great idea,’ he replied, winking at Ashley, and she cheered again.
‘Of course,’ Jim continued. ‘Only if it’s alright with you, Sally.’
From Sam’s shoulder, Ashley tilted her head at her friend, pleading. It was a sharp reminder of their conversation earlier. Don’t ruin my night, her eyes shouted at her. Sally backed down.
‘Yeah, fine by me,’ she replied, trying to avoid her friend’s eye contact.
‘Perfect. Let’s go,’ Jim said. ‘Let’s make it through this crowd alive.’
On the pavement outside the student bar, Ashley stumbled, tripped and fell into Sam’s arms. He caught her with a laugh and Ashley sniggered in reply. Sally had seen Ashley deploy this trick before, a sign her flirting was escalating.
Jim led the way again, ushering them across the traffic crossing. His smug face betrayed how much he relished being in control. Even after she’d recovered from the trip, Ashley held tight on to Sam’s arm. Sally watched from the back of the group as they whispered excitedly to each other. As Sam spoke, Ashley giggled. They crossed the road.
Jim waited for Sally to catch up. ‘We’d better leave them to it,’ he said to Sally. ‘Let’s give them some space.’
‘Sure.’
‘Maybe you and I can do something, grab a drink somewhere quiet,’ Jim suggested.
‘No, thank you,’ Sally replied. ‘I’m pretty tired, I think I’ll head straight to bed.’
Jim didn’t speak for the rest of the short walk to the hostel. It only took a few minutes from the bar, as they were only a few streets away from the hostel. The foyer was empty when they arrived. It was getting late. Jim let everyone in the lift before him, a parody of an old-fashioned gentleman. Inside the lift, Ashley and Sam squeezed together in the corner, and Jim winked at Sally, acknowledging the couple. He pressed the button to their floor.
The walk down the hostel hallway took so long. What’d happen once they’d reached the room? She wanted to sleep, but witnessing Ashley and Sam together Sally didn’t think an early night was going to happen.
She was angry. Ashley had made a deal with her about tonight, about bringing someone home. Go to their house, not the hostel. But what Ashley wanted, Ashley got, no care for Sally. But she didn’t want to say anything, especially not in front of Jim and Sam. Her friend was having a good night, but Sally wanted to sleep. Maybe she should say something.
They reached the door to their room, and Ashley turned around to face Sally and Jim, her cheeks flushed red. Sam snickered beside her. They were holding hands. ‘Do you mind waiting a minute out here?’ Ashley asked Jim and Sally. ‘I need to show Sam something first in the room.’
Jim nodded as if Ashley needed his approval. Sally should say something, remind Ashley of the deal they’d made earlier about inviting someone back to their room. She was starting to get pissed off about it now. But before she could open her mouth, Ashley had already pulled Sam into the room and shut the door, leaving Sally and Jim outside in the hostel corridor. Alone together.
From inside the room, Ashley’s laugh echoed into the hallway.
Sally faced Jim.
She saw he was smirking.
Smirking at her.
18
Sally.
Sally.
Sally.
His voice echoed in her mind. Her name repeated over and over. His voice. Jim’s voice.
Sally ran. She ran out of the hostel and on to the street. She followed the concrete path past the beach and up the hill. She ran to the top of the cliff. Her breath was raspy. Her lungs reached for more air. The night’s chill spiked the inside of her throat.
The pavement petered off from the steep incline to flat ground, and she stopped. She’d made it. She was at the top of the cliff.
From the edge, overlooking the beach, Sally took in a long breath. It filled her lungs as she savoured the night air, the sharp coolness of it, the freshness of the winds lapping in from over the sea. She could smell the salt of the ocean. She could breathe again. She had wanted to hide, to get away from Jim, and now she’d made it. He couldn’t find her up here.
The ocean, crashing on the rocks below her, roared like an angry beast. In rhythmic bursts, water splashed high and sprayed the cliff. Out on the beach, the endless waves roll into the sand.
She was alone out here, alone on the edge.
Sally bent over, her hands supported by her knees, her body reaching to throw up. She tasted sick in her mouth. She’d been an idiot. She shouldn’t have run away from Jim like that, she should’ve fought back.
She remembered the taste. His taste. The taste of his mouth on hers. The sudden way he lunged in for the kiss, the way he grabbed her face, and the way she had panicked. How she turned from him, running from him. And, the way she looked back as the lift doors closed on the hallway between them, when she saw the expression on his face. His smirk.
He was savouring the moment. He’d won.
She hadn’t stopped running until she’d reached the top of the cliff. She’d taken her shoes off and threw them behind her, where the path met the road. She’d wanted to feel the soil under her bare feet.
He might’ve followed her. He could still be following her.
She shook her head at herself, angry at how she’d been a coward, how she should’ve told him no. She should’ve been assertive. Instead, she’d run away.
A stinging began to throb away at her forehead, and Sally stood, rubbing her face. A headache. Great.
Maybe she was drunk. She did have a few drinks at the bar, but this wasn’t the haze of alcohol. This was panic.
The fresh air, mixed with the salt from the
ocean, calmed her nerves. She closed her eyes and began to count her breathing.
It was calm up here. Peaceful.
She slid her feet over the edge of the cliff. Her toes dangled in the air, free.
She took in a deep breath.
Standing there, on the edge of the cliff, she remembered the last words her Dad had spoken to her. His last words. The way he spoke them as he lay in his hospital bed. The way he'd struggled to speak. Sally remembered the white hospital room and the nurses and doctors dressed in blue. She remembered what it was like. The claustrophobia brought on by that hospital room and the noise of the place. And her Dad lying in that bed, whispering to her.
The cancer. How quick it was. A matter of weeks from the diagnosis. How weak he’d been. He told her his life was only truly starting when it was being taken away from him. His life was only truly starting when he saw her as an adult, and now he wouldn’t be there for her. He wouldn’t walk her down the aisle. He wouldn’t be there for his grandchildren. He wouldn’t grow old.
Sally took in another deep breath. Forget about the past. Forget about all the pain.
Standing there, on top of the cliff, she thought she was alone.
And that was when she met the Busker.
When he spoke from behind her, offering a cigarette, she was so startled she fell.
Her arms fumbled in the empty air. Searching for anything to stop her fall. Anything to stop her spinning off the side of the cliff. She imagined her body flailing all the way down, splitting on the rocks below. She forced herself back, away from the edge.
She swore when she hit the earth. She was winded, but not seriously hurt. Stones on the ground cut into her back.
The voice behind her asked if she was okay. A male voice.
She thought it was Jim. She thought he’d found her, that he’d followed her up here.
She turned, ready to face Jim, ready to run again.
‘Do you want one?’ he asked.
It was strange she recognised the Busker’s lips first. Maybe his lips were what drew her focus by the harbour that afternoon when he had the guitar slung over his shoulder and his sunglasses reflected the midday glare.
Seeing him made her pause. She recoiled, she’d been ready to run, but not any more.
Him? The Busker?
‘You?’ She asked, shocked.
A few meters separated them. He took a step back and raised his hands, showing his palms.
‘Me?’ he asked, confused.
Sally’s mind went blank. She didn’t know what to say, but it was definitely him. Definitely the Busker. ‘What are you doing here?’
She didn't rattle him, instead he remained composed. ‘It’s a free country, I can be up here if I want to,’ he said with a joking tone.
Sally ignored his sarcasm and pointed at him threateningly. ‘Don’t get close to me,’ she warned.
‘I wasn’t planning to,’ he replied.
‘Good.’
‘I’m going to stand here and have my cigarette,’ the Busker said.
‘Stay back.’
‘Okay,’ he replied. ‘All I was doing was offering you a cigarette. There’s no need to get aggressive.’
‘Just stay away,’ Sally warned.
He appeared exactly as he had that afternoon by the harbour. The same black jacket hung around his shoulders. His face hadn’t seen a razor in weeks. The only things missing were his guitar and microphone case.
‘Hey,’ the Busker said. ‘I didn’t mean to scare you.’
‘You did.’
‘There’s no need to try to intimidate me, all I was doing was offering you a cigarette. You looked pretty upset,’ he said, pointing at her shoes on the ground. ‘And you were about to throw up.’
He’d adopted a light-hearted tone, but Sally still did not trust him. ‘Stay away,’ she warned again.
It was the Busker, but why was he here? Coincidence? He didn’t seem to recognise her.
Should she mention their earlier meeting?
‘Look,’ the Busker said defensively, still showing his open hands. ‘I’m not doing anything. I didn’t want to frighten you, I just wanted to see if you’re alright. You seem shaken up.’
Sally took some time to brush off soil from her arms, still cautiously watching him. It was so odd that he was here. She tried thinking of what to do. She could run back, but that’d mean running back to Jim. ‘Just stay back, okay?’ she commanded, her head ringing, dazed from the shock of the fall. She scratched her head at the spot on her scalp where the fall had hurt her the most.
‘I will stay back, but you did take a bit of a tumble there. Are you alright?’
‘I’m warning you.’
‘I consider myself warned,’ the Busker replied. ‘Though I’m not going anywhere until I am sure you’re fine.’
Seeing how he was staying back, maintaining the distance between them, Sally relaxed. But only a little. She unclenched her fists and loosened her shoulders. ‘I am fine,’ she said. ‘Maybe I might have some little cuts, I don’t know. I think I’m okay.’ Her hands were useless and awkward hanging by her sides. She put them in her pockets, but still ready to run.
She glanced down the path. Jim was nowhere in sight. Good. He was probably at the hostel. She couldn’t go back there. She’ll have to stay away from the hostel and her room. She’ll have to stay up here until she knew it was safe to go back.
She’ll have to stay up here with this stranger. The Busker.
19
She couldn’t believe it was him. Sally couldn’t believe she’d seen the Busker again.
‘I scared you a little,’ the Busker said, laughing. ‘Are you absolutely sure you’re okay?’
‘Yeah, I am,’ Sally said. She brushed the last grains of dirt from her hands and looked down by her feet. She was a step away from the edge of the cliff. The Busker was between her and the road.
He was tall, but not as tall as Jim or Sam, and he didn’t look like he spent every waking moment in the gym like those two. Everything he wore was black, his t-shirt, his jeans, even his boots. His black curly hair obscured his forehead in the darkness.
‘You want one?’ He asked her, again offering his roll-up.
‘I don’t want a cigarette.’
‘You don’t smoke?’
‘No, I don’t,’ Sally replied curtly. The Busker didn’t change his expression despite her tone.
‘Would it be alright if I smoke one? Seeing as you’re so keen on telling others what to do and what not to do,’ he said, gesturing at the distance between them, mocking her.
‘Go ahead,’ she replied, not giving in to his light manner. ‘But stay where you are.’
He shrugged. The Busker had the same casual vibe as he did that afternoon at the harbour, the same energy that reminded her of Ashley. It was that cool confidence, the determination that he knew what he wanted. ‘You’re a bit angsty. I’m not going anywhere, especially not as close to the cliff as you are,’ he said, putting his hands down. ‘Maybe you should step away from the edge. Be careful.’
He had a point. She was standing very close. Carefully watching him, Sally moved a few feet forward, away from the rocks below.
‘You don’t want to fall and die,’ he said as he pulled out a pre-rolled cigarette lodged behind his ear. He placed it loosely in his mouth and lit it. He blew the smoke away from her, toward the cliff walk path and the narrow road beyond it. The smoke dissolved in the clear night sky. ‘I’ve still got another cigarette if you want.’
‘Thanks, but no.’
Was he the one who’d bumped into her? She thought of Ashley’s broken phone.
‘Are you really sure you’re alright? You look pretty shaken up,’ he remarked, staring at her.
Sally nodded in response. She watched him smoke, his movements were careful and considered, he had a slow inner tempo. His accent was faint and his voice mellow. A flash of potential scenarios littered Sally’s mind. They were alone on top of the cliffs, and ther
e were no witnesses about, no one to hear her cry out. He could mug her. But then again, he was calm standing there, smoking. He didn’t show any sign he was about to attack her.
But Sally couldn’t get that thought out of her head. Why had he pushed her that afternoon?
‘I’m fine,’ she said.
‘You didn’t look it just then,’ he replied.
‘You were the one who surprised me.’
‘I’m not leaving until I’m sure you’re okay. You could have a concussion.’
Sally shook her head. ’I don’t think so.’
The Busker scratched his chin. ‘What are you doing up here, anyway?’ he asked, still pressing on despite her terse bluntness.
‘I was going for a walk.’
‘It’s pretty late for a walk, and dangerous, especially around here.’
‘I could say the same about you,’ Sally replied. Their back and forth rhythm, it was like flirting. She liked his calm demeanour, and his cheeky smile. Her guard was lowering. Was that what she was doing with him? Flirting? ‘I don’t want to go back to where I’m staying.’
The Busker exhaled some smoke out the corner of his lips. ’Why not?’
‘It’s something stupid,’ she said. ‘What are you doing up here?’
He smiled again, his sly smile. ’Are you always this aggressive?’
‘Only to strangers,’ Sally replied. ‘What led you up here, then?’
‘A walk,’ the Busker said, sucking on his cigarette. The ash accumulating at the end of it lit up like a firework. He blew the smoke out over his shoulder. ‘You sure you don’t want one? I’d want one if I’ve fallen over like that.’ He waved his cigarette.
‘You know they kill you, right?’
The Busker looked at his cigarette, mouth agape. ‘What, this? Kill me? I haven’t heard that. Here I was thinking they were good for me.’
He was funny, but she didn’t want to show him her amusement. Sally turned her head and looked out at the beach. The waves spit white foam as they tumbled into the shore. She couldn’t go back to the hostel now. She’d wait out here for a bit until she was sure Sam, and especially Jim, had left. She never wanted to see Jim again. Staying up here for a while longer would make sure they were gone by the time she was back at the hostel.
The Busker: A gripping psychological thriller Page 10