Her Greatest Mistake

Your eyes were transfixed on the road.

The first trickle of sweat escaped through my hairline as an evocative atmosphere pinched the air. Pure terror. Your fingers began to tap, tap on the steering wheel. Over and over.

You held out your left hand. ‘Show me. The text, Eve.’

I inhaled sharply as my body became weightless.

‘Eve. Your mobile.’ Your finger jabbed at my ribs. ‘Now.’

As of old, I did as I was told. Panicked hands fumbling for my back pocket.

I knew it had been too easy. I placed the mobile into your resolute hand.

Your eyes wandered over the screen. You shook your head; the beginnings of a leer caught your lips.

Was this our end?

You thrusted down a gear, accelerating deeper into the darkness. Trees looming, closer and closer. Seconds spiteful in the pretext as hours. The stench of burning rubber. The acrid bouquet of hot engine. The screeching of tyres. The shrieking of my child. The din of crimpling metal. The clatter of shattering glass. The cry of my child.

All became black.

Nothing but black.





Chapter Thirty-Six


Cornwall 2016


My heartbeat disturbs me. I open my eyes; blackness is everywhere. I hold my hands up in front of me. I see nothing. I pinch my thumb and index fingers together; I have feeling though. I lie still and listen to my heart beating in my ears. Droplets of sweat, between me and the sheets.

I feel you just the other side of the glass. We can feel each other, though you can no longer see me. You are wondering if you should now leave. Just one last sniff of the air, you decide, the air we share, nothing but glass between us. Both of us together, counting each breath. Did you think I was dead, that night? You didn’t know, did you? You just wished I were dead, we were dead. You lost control.

I feel for my legs, slightly numb, almost bruised to the touch. A psychosomatic delusion. I drag them one by one, cautiously placing disoriented feet on the floor. One at a time. I stand, and move towards the glass. On the last step forward, I see the stars. Tiny spotlights looking down on us in judgment. A moment of confusion on the outskirts of sleep hounds me; my feet search for familiar grounding as I touch the pane of my bedroom window. I’m not in the car; I’m in the safety of my bedroom. Just another flashback. I peer out at the starlit darkness. Still, I see you. A dark vanquished shadow retreating. You would have come back that night, wouldn’t you, if you’d known we didn’t die? Have you come back this time for the flash-drive, or, as I now suspect, for me?

Because I am still breathing. Scarred, but breathing.

I’m not so afraid any more. Even the dreams cannot harm me, however real they first seem. I didn’t wake for the dream; I woke, sensing you, outside my window. Calm, resolute, betrayed. Have you shrunk in size? Your shoulders less broad, your back less upright? Though your subdued shadow does not fool me.

Evil doesn’t die, if it still lives.

I creep in darkness to Jack’s room; old habits take a long time to perish. He’s deep in sleep. I hope his dreams are somewhere safe, normal. His mobile sits goading me across the room, winking at me, daring me to take a peek. No, I will not give in to paranoia. I shiver as a chill darts across my shoulders. We are nearly there, Jack, nearly there.

Returning to my bed, I pray for sleep.

*

‘Mum,’ whispers the familiar voice. ‘Mum?’ I feel the bed give way near my legs. ‘It’s time to get up. We’ll be late again.’ I prise reluctant eyes open to see Jack grinning down at me. ‘You really should get yourself to bed earlier. No wonder you can’t get up in the mornings. Don’t you realise how important sleep is?’ he mimics me.

‘Cheeky little monkey.’ I prod him.

‘Hey, not so much of the little – have you checked these biceps out?’ He flexes his muscles. ‘And, you may have noticed—’ he straightens his back, getting broader by the week ‘—I’m quite a bit taller than you, now.’

‘Hmm. Now, get yourself down those stairs, and make me some coffee? Please?’

He stands up and wanders out, seemingly without a care in the world. ‘What’s it worth?’ he says.

‘Being fed and watered,’ I call after him.

I must only have dropped back off to sleep an hour or so ago. I feel like death warmed up. Each and every muscle aches, beneath the surface, bruised and battered. Moments later, Jack barges back through the door, spilling the coffee from the overflowing mug, wiping it away with his foot. ‘Oops, think I’ve overfilled it.’

‘Thanks, Jack.’ I reach for the mug, and slurp. ‘You’re definitely my favourite. I can drop you in this morning – I’ve early clinic – or would you rather go on the bus?’

‘Cool. No, I’ll come with you. The bus takes forever.’ He turns away.

‘Are you home on time tonight?’ I need to know how much time I have later.

‘Yeah, think so. Should be. Why?’

‘Just wondered,’ I say. ‘Quick with the shower, please. I’ll jump in after you.’

I flick my mobile into action, scanning down the contact numbers. It’s still there. I was paranoid I’d accidentally delete it. I study it. I still can’t decide if you slipped up with one of your silent calls. Or, if you intended for me to have it? I called it anonymously, before sending that first text, just to make sure; you didn’t answer. But you were studying the screen, searching for a non-existent caller ID, weren’t you? You knew it was me.

Do you also know I’ve decided today will be the day? The end of the end.

Jack will be home on time, I’ll return as normal, then, once I know he’s safe, go back out, not for long. It won’t take long. I release my breath. Do I really know what I’m doing? Do I know who I can trust? Have I considered all the possible outcomes? I flick back through my mobile to the last message from Billy. It arrived late last night.


Sorry so late. Listen. Keep your head down. On the move 2mor night. In touch soon. This number will cease. TU.



I read it a couple of times, to make sense of it. I texted back, asking him to explain; he just answered, TTYS. I looked it up, with no idea of its meaning; he would talk to me soon. It didn’t take much to decipher the code, what his intentions were. I can’t let him do it. He’s suffered enough, his life already cursed from such a young age. He’d be taking my place in my metaphorical cell; we both deserve freedom. I need to act quicker than him.

Forty-five minutes later, Jack and I leave the house, ready for another not so normal, but usual day. Just as we’re about to drive off, I notice Gloria pottering in her front gated area.

‘One minute, Jack, wait here.’ I leap from my seat.

‘What? Mum, come on, you’re going to make us late. I play footy before registration.’

‘Wait there, I’ll be one minute.’

I leave him huffing and puffing, to scamper back up the pathway.

‘Gloria?’ She doesn’t hear me, and makes her way to her front porch. ‘Hi, Gloria?’

She turns, her wizened face lights up. ‘Oh, Eve, love, how are you? I’ve not had chance to see you for a little while.’

Kind eyes study me; I instantly know she hasn’t done anything wrong. How could I have thought otherwise? ‘I know, I’m sorry, I’ve been so busy. We’ll catch up soon, promise.’ She smiles warmly at me, reaching for my hand. ‘I haven’t got much time to stop, Gloria, need to get Jack to school, me to clinic, but can I ask you something?’

‘Yes, love, of course. Anything. What is it?’

‘You may not remember, but the other day you asked me if I’d enjoyed the surprise? Or something to that effect.’

‘Yes, love, I did, I remember. I was very excited for you.’

‘But you were not referring to the cake you made, were you? It’s just, that’s what I thought you meant at first.’

‘Oh, no, love, no. I was talking about your friend, from overseas. Such a lovely girl, isn’t she?’ Gloria covers her mouth with her hand. ‘Oh, have I just ruined the surprise? I thought you knew, thought you’d found her letter.’

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