Yours to Keep

by Diana Fraser

  She swallowed hard, trying to push down the lump. But it was as if it were a cork which held tight her emotions, prevented them from emerging, and it stayed put. Just as well, she thought. There was enough rain now falling from the sky, tracking down her head and face without the addition of tears.

  A car swam into her vision. Some top of the line gas guzzler, she thought reprovingly. It pulled up in front of her and a darkened window noiselessly lowered. A head dipped down and she saw those eyes. She knew they were green, but everything had become one color of gray in the gloom.

  “Amber, get in.”

  She bridled at his tone. As if she were some stupid child who had to be told to get in the car. She wouldn’t dignify his command with an answer. She looked away.

  He sighed. “Please, Amber, get in.”

  If he thought using the word ‘please’ before a command would be persuasive, he had another think coming.

  “For God’s sake,” he said, as the rain intensified on the roof of his car, and turned to hail. “You’ll freeze out there.”

  At that moment a bus came along. “I’d rather freeze than sit with a rude man who I thought was my friend.” She rose. “Anyway, here’s a bus. Go back to your rich people to laugh about me and leave me alone.”

  He glanced in his rear vision mirror. “That bus is only going as far as Little River. You’ll be stranded there.”

  “I don’t care. I’d rather be stranded in the middle of nowhere than sit with you in that, that obscene thing you call a car.”

  His face creased. “Obscene? And I don’t call it a car. I call it a Jaguar.”

  “You can call it a spacecraft for all I care.” She held out her hand and indicated that the bus should stop. It stopped in a splash of water. She picked up her paints and ascended the steps. The bus was full and, shivering, she had to go to the rear of the bus and sit amongst kids, among whom was her niece, Etta. They quizzed her about the paint pots. She’d always liked kids, especially teenagers, and tried to focus on them, blocking David and his betrayal from her mind. She knew the pain would slam back with full force, but she had to get home first. Home to safety.

  Etta glanced behind as they stopped at a bus stop. “Never been followed by a top of the line Jaguar before. Look at that!”

  The others turned in their seats as the bus idled outside a lamp post which illuminated the car. She could plainly see David looking up at the bus. She looked forward again abruptly.

  By the time they’d passed a few more stops, the teenagers were intrigued and making up stories as to why they were being followed. The passengers had thinned out by this time, leaving only them in the back seat.

  “I think he may be following me,” she said.

  “Jeez! Is he some kind of creep?” asked Etta.

  “I think he may be,” Amber said, trying to keep cool and dignified, twisting her fingers in the rope of her bag.

  “And he’s waiting for you to get off so he can pounce on you!” Etta and the others were incensed. “He hadn’t counted on us. We’ll sort him out for you, Amber.”

  “That would be nice,” she said, trying to stop her lips from trembling. She fixed her gaze on the dark window, but only saw herself reflected back.

  They wound their way slowly over the hills towards Little River where they would have to wait for the last bus to take them to Akaroa. She didn’t look again out the back window. She didn’t need to. She saw the movement of the car’s headlights illuminating the dark around her as they snaked their way to their destination. And she listened to the cat-calling and running commentary from the teenagers.

  At last they stopped, and the bus rumbled as they jumped out. She went and sat in the bus stop—at least it had an overhead shelter to keep out the rain—while the teenagers went directly over to the Jaguar which had stopped behind the bus, and stayed there as the bus turned back for Christchurch.

  Apparently oblivious to the threat of half-a-dozen teenagers shouting at him, David got out of the car and slammed it shut. He took one look at the teenagers, clicked it locked and went over to the bus shelter, closely followed by Etta and her friends.

  “Amber. You are surely not going to sit here for two hours until the next bus, rather than take a lift with me.”

  She shot him a look she hoped could be described as filthy.

  “Hey, perv!” shouted one of the teenagers, as they got bored with checking out his car and came up to him.

  “Are those children talking to me?” David asked Amber.

  She nodded. “Yes.”

  He sighed and turned around. “What?” he asked them.

  “You, mate! You with your flash car. Just cos you’re loaded doesn’t mean you can stalk people, you know.”

  “I am not stalking anyone.” He turned back to Amber. “What the hell are they talking about?”

  “I suggest you ask them, not me.” She looked determinedly away, studying a patch of graffiti scratched into the window of the bus shelter where there was a heart in which two names were inscribed. She hoped Shane and Jess, whoever they were, were prepared to be heartbroken.

  “She’s not talking to you. So why don’t you just f-off and leave her alone?”

  He turned to the teenagers again. “Because it’s raining, she’s missed the last bus—as have you all—and she’s my friend.”

  They all looked back at Amber. How come it all sounded so rational coming from his lips?

  “Is that right, Amber? Is this guy your friend?”

  “Hang on a minute,” said Etta. “I thought you looked familiar, you’re that serious guy who came to Belendroit. Amber’s friend.”

  He gave Etta a cursory nod before turning back to Amber.

  “Was. Was my friend. Not anymore. Not since he was a bastard to me.”

  “Jeez, man,” said another teenager. “How could you be mean to Amber?”

  “You know Amber?” asked David.

  David looked from the kids to Amber, then back to the kids.

  “Yeah, of course. We watch out for each other round here. And you’re not from round here, are you?” said one of the larger kids, stepping closer to David.

  “No, no, I’m not. And you know? I’m glad you’re looking out for her. But then so am I. Look, how about I give you all a lift back to Akaroa? I’ll drop Amber off first, then the rest of you. How about that?”

  There were nods of approval from a few of them, and within seconds three of them had returned to the car, and were peering in the windows, exclaiming as to its luxury.

  “Amber,” said David. “Please, come on. I just want to see you home safe.”

  She licked her lips and shivers racked her body. “Well, I guess if they come with me it’ll be all right. Because I have no intention of talking to you.”

  “You’re talking to me now.”

  “Only a little.”

  He held out his hand, which she didn’t take. She rose and walked over to the children. She could hear his leather-clad shoes clipping cleanly through the puddles, while her soft shoes were already soaked, and her feet freezing.

  He unclicked the door and before he could say anything Amber had jumped in the rear seat with Etta and another girl, while the boy happily took the front seat, and immediately began touching the controls.

  “Don’t touch that,” David said firmly. The boy agreed without comment as he stretched out in the car, one arm hooked over the back of the seat as he angled himself to the rear, while still running his fingers over the controls in the door.

  “So, David,” he said cheekily, “what do you want with Amber?”

  Amber saw the muscle in David’s cheek flicker, reflecting a struggle which she knew would be between telling the teenager exactly where he could go, and fitting in with them for her sake.

  “To apologize,” he said, his foot suddenly flat against the boards as he overtook a car. The kids whooped at the sudden speed and made gestures at the car they overtook, which Amber tried to stop. She didn’t succeed.
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br />   “Go on, then,” said Etta, from next to Amber.

  Again, the flicker. “I’m sorry, Amber.”

  Amber continued to look stonily out the window, down which the rain wept as she wanted to.

  Etta nudged Amber. Amber shot her a dirty look, which made Etta’s eyes widen. “Aren’t you going to accept?”

  “You don’t just accept apologies if they’re given. It’s not something you have to do automatically.” She shot a black look to David’s reflection in the rear-view mirror. His frown deepened.

  “What did you do to upset Amber, David?” Etta glanced at Amber. “She seems pretty pissed with you.”

  “Yes, she is, and I understand why, and I’m sorry.”

  “But, David,” said Etta, leaning forward so her head was closer to his in the front seat. Amber saw him try not to react. “The first question is”—she glanced at Amber with a secret grin—“what did you do?”

  There was a pause in which none of the teens spoke. That, in itself, seemed a miracle.

  “I wanted to destroy something Amber loved.”

  There were shocked mutterings. Amber’s gaze remained fixed on the back of the seat in front of her as she tried not to cry.

  “I reckon you two are pretty much stuffed then. You both want different things.”

  “No!” said David too quickly. “No,” he repeated more softly. “It can’t be like that.”

  “Why not?”

  Amber waited for David’s answer with curiosity, too. But it didn’t come. His hands flexed around the steering wheel, but he didn’t speak.

  “Okay, so why, David, would you want to destroy something Amber loves?” asked Etta, showing the same kind of gutsy courage she displayed on the rugby field.

  It seemed David was on more comfortable ground here. “Because it’s a hazard. Because it would cost more to try to patch it up to earthquake standards than it would to build a new state-of-the-art earthquake-proof building.”

  “What’s wrong with that, Aunty Amber?” asked Etta.

  “Because those buildings are more than just bricks and mortars, they’re our history and have the energies of the people who lived in them before. They’re precious and should be preserved, not destroyed.”

  The boy in the front seat sniggered at the word “energies”, but Amber ignored him. She was used to people not believing what she did. But, still, it didn’t mean that her beliefs, and the buildings she believed in, should be destroyed.

  “Well, David,” said Etta, in the kind of ‘let’s sort this out’ voice Amber could imagine her uncle and now step-father, Zane, using. “Even if you don’t believe in the whole ‘energies’ thing, I guess it is our history.”

  Amber waited for David to refute it. “Yes, you’re right. And Amber’s right. I’d arranged to meet the others there today to tell them of my new plans.” Everyone had their eyes glued to David.

  “So why did you do this in the first place?”

  “Because…” There was a long pause. “They’re unsafe.”

  “And ‘cos you’re going to make a bomb, I bet!” said the boy.

  “And because you want to keep people safe, eh, David?” prompted Etta, obviously trying to put the best spin on the situation as possible.

  “Yes.”

  Nobody spoke as everyone waited for something more from David, but nothing came. The silence continued as they entered Akaroa.

  “Well,” said Etta, eventually. “I guess keeping people safe and making a heap of money is good. Isn’t it, Amber?”

  “There are other ways of keeping people safe,” said Amber. “Ways which cost money, rather than make it.”

  David’s expression was grim as he pulled up outside her cottage.

  “Thanks for the ride, mate. See you later, Amber!”

  “Don’t you want a lift home?” Amber shouted out in desperation.

  “No. There’s a party tonight just up the road from here,” said Etta.

  Amber got out of the car and, turning on the rain-slicked brick path, looked at David. He’d also got out of the car. She looked away.

  “Amber, please don’t go inside without letting me speak.”

  She paused, still with her back to him.

  “You’re right,” he said. “I know you’re right, now. You made me realize that I’ve gone too far. There’s a place for both sorts of buildings.”

  A wave of relief washed over her. “Really?” She turned around to face him.

  “Yes, really.”

  “So... what were you doing coming up to me today with those people?”

  “I still have some business to wrap up. I was there to discuss with them the future of the project.”

  “And what is the future of the project?”

  “To restore it.”

  She swallowed. “Are you just saying what I want you to say?”

  He smiled. “And when have I ever done that?”

  “True.”

  “I’m sorry, Amber. I’m so sorry that I misled you at the beginning. It’s true, I thought I could get to know you and...”

  He was at a loss for words, but Amber knew what he meant.

  “And use me to get to my friends to stop what we were doing. People shouldn’t use people.”

  “I know. I was wrong. Can you ever forgive me?”

  “Honestly? I don’t know. Can you be one person who destroys buildings and uses people one minute, and then change, becoming someone entirely different the next minute? I’m not sure that that’s possible.”

  “I understand. But I don’t think that person was the real me. This is the real me.”

  “So many yous. But how can I know which is the real one?”

  “By letting me hang around, getting to know me better? Would that be okay?”

  But, in that moment, Amber didn’t trust her gut instinct anymore. And she really didn’t know who the real David was. She shook her head.

  “No. I don’t think it would be okay.”

  David looked shocked, and she realized that he also didn’t know her at all. She gave a sad smile. “I may look like a hippy pushover and I am to some extent, but I’m pretty tough, too. I know what I want, and I know what I don’t want. Unlike you. I think you’re the lost one.”

  The wind chimes around her front door clattered in the breeze.

  “I made a mistake, and I’m sorry. But surely you’re not going to throw away what we have because of that one mistake?”

  “It was a big mistake, David, and it was mine. It was me who made the mistake.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “I told you once that I trusted a boy, I even told you what happened because of that trust.”

  His mouth tightened into a grim line.

  “And,” she continued, “you promised me that you’d never let anything like that happen to me again. You may not have raped me, David, but you deceived me, and took me for a fool. I’m no fool, and you’re not the man I thought you were. You’re not good enough for me, David.” She nodded towards the car. “Now, please go.”

  He thrust his hands in his pockets and nodded. “I’m so sorry, Amber, for what I did to you. But I never meant to hurt you, and I definitely don’t think you’re a fool.”

  “I don’t believe you.”

  “It’s true. And I want you to know that I’m leaving now because of one thing.”

  Despite herself, she wanted to know. “And what’s that?”

  “Because I love you. I love you with all my heart and mind and soul, and I’m going to do everything in my power to make you love me, to earn that trust that you so willingly put in me at the very beginning. I’m going to show you, Amber, that we should be together and you will come to me again. I promise it.”

  She shook her head, which was reeling from his words. She opened her mouth to speak, but he raised his hand. “I’m going. And I won’t return until you want me to. But I will do everything in my power to make you want me. Everything,” he said, as he returned to his car.r />
  Without watching him leave, she entered her house and closed the door. She leaned against it and closed her eyes. But it didn’t stop the tears from tracking down her hot cheeks. She waited until she heard David get in the car and drive off before she brushed away the tears, turned on the light and filled the kettle.

  This was her life, and it was a genuine one, one she understood. And she refused to stray from it to a world where she didn’t even know which version of a person was the real one. That way lay madness and vulnerability, and she refused to do that ever again. Even if it meant a broken heart.

  * * *

  David walked to his car without a backward glance. He couldn’t bear it—couldn’t bear to think of what he’d done to Amber as anywhere near equating to what had happened to her in the past. And couldn’t bear to think that she put him in the same category—someone who wanted her, only to use her. But hadn’t that been the truth?

  He’d prove to her that he loved her and could be trusted with her heart, that he’d do anything for her. But, as he roared off down the road towards his apartment in Christchurch, he wondered just how the hell he was going to do that.

  9

  David poured two coffees and joined his sister by the window which overlooked the waterfront and the tricolore—the French national flag—and stalls and kiddie rides that were set upon the usually empty reserve. He could see the sign for Amber’s café and the occasional bob of a flame-haired woman who was constantly in his mind, whether he saw her or not. It was good to feel she was near.

  Zoe turned to David and took a sip of her coffee. “Aren’t you going to join in?”

  “What?” David asked, knowing full well what his sister meant.

  “The French Festival.” She nodded to the scene outside the window. “Looks like fun.”

  Fun wasn’t the word that sprung to his mind. It looked like heartache. “Have you been?”

  Amber had disappeared, and he scanned the flapping canvas and bobbing heads before finding her again and relaxing.

  “Yes,” said Zoe. “I was there this morning. They even had a temporary path laid on the grass which I could navigate.”

  “That’s good.”