I see her as she takes off after me, probably sent by Ruth to bring me back, make me explain what happened up there. I don’t need to explain anything. To anybody. Ever. Least of all to Ruth. And definitely not to Merriel.
The brick wall of the alleyway is cold and damp against my back, the cragginess of the bricks rough against the palms of my hands as I stand here, giving myself some time to think, to work out what just took place in there. I wait a little longer until Merriel is a speck in the distance and then step out into the daylight again. Who exactly is it she’s following? Somebody she thinks is me? Or is she herself running away from something? We all have things we would rather keep hidden, secrets we salt away from the rest of the world. We are none of us perfect. Even Merriel. Especially Merriel. She told me of her background, her secrets and who she thought I was. Her damaged childhood. I’m not the only one around here who is cracked and splintered, my outward veneer a thin coating that disguises a shattered individual beneath. I tell myself daily that I’m strong, that I can withstand anything. I say it because the more you convince yourself of something, the more of a possibility it becomes. But it’s not who I really am. I’m weak. Jealous and mean and weak. That’s the real me. I wish it wasn’t so but it is and there isn’t anything I can do to change that fact. Everything is too deeply embedded in me to ever shed it and start again.
Only when I think she has disappeared do I start to walk into town. My car can stay where it is. The place will be flooded with blue lights. Too risky to think about going back. I’ll find another way home, another way out of this godforsaken mess of a place and back to where I need to be. Back to a place where nobody will think of looking for me. A place where there are people who do actually truly care about me.
I wonder where Merriel is thinking of going to search for me? Perhaps a stroll through town or maybe over to the office. And then I remember that she knows where I live. Perspiration breaks out on my forehead. I’m not going there anyway. She can stand outside and hammer on the door all she likes; she won’t get an answer. I’m not so stupid as to sit and wait for her to call. I have other places I can go to, even if it’s just for a short time while the furore dies down.
The queue at the cashpoint feels excruciatingly long as I stand in line, my legs itching to run, to escape the confines of this town. An old lady ahead of me forgets her PIN and we have to wait while she stands, face tipped up to the sky, finger poised on her chin as she racks her brains to remember. Another attempt and then another until the machine keeps her card and she eventually turns to me with a gasp, all glassy eyed, and stares at me, hoping for some sort of assistance.
I walk away. There are plenty of other machines dotted around town and plenty of other people in the queue behind me who can give her the help she needs. I’ll go elsewhere, get a wad of cash and take a taxi back home. The longer I hang around here, the greater the chances are that Ruth will do something stupid and unforgivable like send a team of police officers out to search for me. I mean, would they really do that? Use up their scarce resources to go searching for somebody as helpless and innocuous as me? Probably not but I’m not prepared to take that chance.
I head up Morton Road, my mind focused on the ATM that I know is definitely there. I’ve used it before. Opposite is a taxi rank. I can grab the money, hop in the back of the cab and be where I want to be in fifteen minutes. I make it sound so easy, so effortless and all the while my heart is pounding, a crushing feeling hanging over me that everything is about to implode, my tiny little world spinning off its axis and rotating into oblivion.
The machine is free and I take out as much cash as I can, up to my daily limit, and stuff it in my pocket, then turn and hail down a cab that is about to park up.
I climb in, rest my head against the headrest and give him my address, hoping I make it home before Merriel does. I’ll pick up a few things and disappear. Just a few minutes is all I need to prepare before she comes poking around, trying to find me.
The drive takes an age, other vehicles, pedestrians, red lights all working against us. The story of my life, a repeating pattern – people and inanimate objects causing me distress, impeding my progress. Everything is a blur in my peripheral vision as we pick up speed and take a right turn a little too quickly, the tyres screeching, drawing attention to us.
‘Sorry, love. Clipped the kerb there trying to make up some lost time ’cause of the traffic.’ The taxi driver’s voice is an affable sound, soft and inoffensive. Not the usual coarse, inane banter that some of them spew out, telling me about how well their kids are doing in school or how rubbish the government is or how their missus spends more than they can earn. I don’t care about any of it. But not this one. He sounds okay. A normal guy. It doesn’t make me feel any better though. I have other things on my mind.
‘Right, here we are,’ he says as we pull up outside my house. ‘That’ll be £14.50.’
My opinion of him plummets. I want to scream at him that his prices need readjusting, that rather than help my plight, he has added to it with his erratic driving and scandalous prices, but I don’t. I slap a twenty-pound note in his hand and tell him to keep the change. I don’t have time for more chat and to wait while he roots around for the right coins.
Without waiting to see his reaction, I climb out and head up the path, my fingers fumbling for my keys. I shove them in and shut the door, leaning back on it for a few seconds to recalibrate myself before racing around the house, gathering up the things that I need.
I’m just about to leave when I see her running up the road, Merriel, her face lined with anxiety, eyes darting about. She looks furtive. Shifty. Did she follow me in the taxi, staying a couple of cars behind? I shake that notion away. No, she can’t have. I watched her vanish into the distance, heading in the opposite direction.
Shit!
She is moving at a lick, her pace steady and authoritative. I need to get out of here as quickly as possible. I won’t lower myself to speaking to her. She is nobody to me and certainly not a person I hold in high esteem. Who does she even think she is, following me here? I doubt she has done this to help me out, knowing her character, what sort of a person she is. She’ll be here to stir up trouble, to cause a fracas and point the finger at me. She thinks I’m guilty. They all do. Adrian has made his accusation and now there is no unsaying it. They will all gladly see me cornered like a snared animal. Well not today. Not any day. They’ll have a long wait if they think I’m about to capitulate and bend to their allegations, hanging my head in shame and admitting to something I didn’t do.
I shove my arms through my backpack and hoist it up over my shoulders, then lock the front door before slipping out the back way, sliding the key in my pocket and zipping it up for safekeeping.
The back gate closes with a clang. I wince, eager to get away unnoticed, my retreating figure invisible to Merriel and her prying eyes. She won’t know where I’m going, will have no idea of my secret retreat.
My feet slip on the old cobbles, recent rain making them slick and difficult to navigate. It doesn’t matter. I can creep to the corner of the alleyway, poke my head out, see if the coast is clear and make a dash for the fields beyond, my running territory, the place I know and trust.
‘Everything okay, lovey?’
Her voice makes me jump, my concentration honed in on Merriel and my imminent escape.
I turn to see Agnes, the little old lady from three doors down, leaning over her back gate, watching me intently. Her small, bony fingers are hooked over the black wrought-iron pattern, an intricate design that makes me think of a spider’s web. Her eyes look dark, as if she is able to see inside my head.
‘Everything’s fine, thank you, Agnes.’ I nod at her, turning away to indicate that I don’t want to get drawn into a dialogue with her, that this conversation is over before it’s even begun.
‘Off for another run, are we? Mind yer step. We had a right downpour earlier, we did. Those cobbles are lethal when wet.’ She continues to stare at me, holding my gaze, her eyes narrow and inquisitive.
I have no idea what it is she wants me to say, whether or not I’m supposed to thank her for her advice and turn away or whether a nod will suffice without causing some deep unexplainable offence to an old lady who simply wants to make conversation because her days are drab and grey, the only splash of colour being the talk she makes with passers-by and neighbours.
‘Thanks for the advice, Agnes. I’ll watch how I go.’ I hope this is enough. I need to move, to get away from here. Away from Merriel and whatever it is she has come here to say.
‘And mind the police cordon at the end of the street, as well. They set it up a couple of minutes ago. Watched them from the upstairs window, I did. Blue lights flashing all over the place. Surprised you didn’t hear them when they pulled up with a screech. Never go about their business quietly, do they, these policemen? No wonder the burglars and murderers always get away, one step ahead and as quiet as the grave while t’police arrive all guns blazing.’
I freeze, Agnes’ loud cackle an eerie echo in my head.
‘Anyways, don’t tek any notice of me and mind how you go, lovey. Them cobbles are wet and you’ll come a cropper if you don’t watch your step on ’em.’
I spin around and start to run, Agnes still calling after me, her words, the pitch of her voice, turning my blood to ice.
‘Oh, and I saw yer friend a few minutes ago as well, the one that sometimes runs t’same way as you do, the one that’s hung around outside yer house on occasion.’
My limbs turn to stone, my thoughts suddenly sludgy and out of focus. ‘My friend?’ I try to keep the panic out of my voice, keep my tone neutral. I’m making a polite enquiry, that’s all it is. A polite enquiry asking Agnes to clarify her statement. I’m not panicked or knocked off balance. Even though I am. Very much so. Merriel has been following me?
‘Aye. The tall one. Looks a bit like you, an athletic type. She set off at a right lick she did, off towards the big fields over yonder.’
I nod, try to keep the smile on my face even though my jaw is twitching involuntarily, blood rushing through my ears, my head, making everything before me soft and unsteady.
‘That’s okay,’ I say, my voice suddenly hoarse and croaky. ‘Thanks, Agnes, I’ll see if I can catch her up.’
I manage another tight smile, take a quick glance around me, pull on my gloves for warmth, and begin to run.