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PAIGE COULDN’T HELP but feel on edge after reading about Ella Gold’s death. She couldn’t shake the feeling that her attack and Ella’s were connected, but when she emailed the police officer who had recorded her statement, she simply replied that whilst they occurred in the same location, they couldn’t find a provable link between the two events.
That didn’t stop Paige from worrying. What if he had meant to kill her that night but hadn’t gotten the chance? Was she still in danger?
To her surprise, Tom and her mum were quite calm about the situation, “Lightning doesn’t strike twice, P,” Tom said, “This was a freak event, you were in the wrong place at the wrong time.”
“Tom’s right, love,” her mum comforted, “You were just unlucky.”
Their nonchalance didn’t make Paige feel any safer, but she decided to keep taking the bus to and from the Ecklands’ and continue with her life as best she could.
That Friday, Paige walked from the Ecklands’ to The Punter to meet Leo. Tom had agreed to pick her up from the pub after she was finished. It was a quaint little English pub with a fireplace, regulars sat at the bar laughing and sharing stories, and a beer garden in the back. Paige headed to the bar and found Leo already waiting for her with a whiskey in hand.
“What’s your poison?” He asked, getting his wallet out of his back pocket.
“That’s ok, I can get it,” Paige said, and then to the barman, “A pint of bitter, please.”
“I insist, you can get the next round,” Leo said, pushing a £5 note across the bar before Paige could argue.
“Ok, thank you,” she said, a small smile breaking across her lips.
The barman handed Paige her pint and handed Leo his change. “Beer garden?” Leo asked.
“That sounds nice.” Paige said.
The weather was beautiful again and the beer garden had a view of the river which was teeming with houseboats. One large blue houseboat with “Winifred” painted on the outside glided gently by as they sat down. The residents – an elderly couple in sun huts and mid-length shorts – were sat out on the deck, drinking white wine and admiring the view. Another elderly man was driving the boat at the front, waving at other drivers as they passed them. The water was still, except for when a boat passed through, and the sound of the ripples gently splashing against the sides of the boats and the riverbanks set the peaceful backdrop to the beer garden.
“I can understand your hesitance to come out with me,” Leo said, “My parents are a little unorthodox.”
“It honestly wasn’t that at all,” Paige said, “I just moved here from Cardiff to live with my mum. I was living with my boyfriend...” She felt oddly ashamed to talk about the break-up, as if it was somehow her fault that she had ended up living with her mum again.
“Boyfriend? Or ex-boyfriend?” Leo said, with the cheeky smile that he so often sported.
“Ex,” Paige said firmly, “He cheated on me. Twice, actually.”
“Oh, wow,” Leo said, “I apologise for presuming it had anything to do with my family – it sounds like a dose of weird is the least of your worries. Were you with him long?”
“Less than a year, but I moved in with him just before Christmas. And then he kissed a girl at my friend’s New Year’s Eve party.”
“What a dick,” Leo sipped his whiskey.
“I’m not sure why I stayed with him after that. I suppose I thought it was a lapse in judgment, that he wouldn’t ever do it again.” Despite her glowing red cheeks – an involuntary side effect of thinking about Rufus again – Paige felt Leo easy to talk to. He listened to her intently, but with the sort of sympathetic expression that a friend or family member would have. Paige realised she hadn’t really spoken to anyone about Rufus since the day Marie had called her – her mum and Tom hadn’t forced her to share any details and so she hadn’t told them much at all, except for the essentials.
“Once that line is crossed it is easy to cross it again,” Leo said.
“A lesson I had to learn the hard way,” Paige nodded, “But, I’m free of him now.”
“And you’re enjoying your time in Oxford?” Leo asked.
“Yes, I am,” Paige said, “Although this town holds some bittersweet memories for me. My grandmother lived here, and I spent most summer and Christmas holidays with her here. Almost everything reminds me of her.” Paige noticed she had been fiddling with her keys since they sat down, rubbing her thumb over the same spot on a small wooden keyring. She was pulled back 15 years to a Christmas spent in Oxford. Her mum, dad and grandmother were sat on the floor of her grandmother’s living room, eagerly watching her open her presents. Despite the toys and chocolate that she’d opened earlier in the day, the final present, a tiny, neatly wrapped parcel left on the tree, was the most exciting. It was from her dad, and that thought made it all the more special – he had a tradition of saving one present until the end, one just from him. Paige knew as she ripped into it that he had selected it himself, with no hint or clue from her or her mum. It was a wooden keyring, varnished so that it was shiny, and with the letter “P” carved in the middle; her dad’s nickname for her, and now Tom’s. It may have seemed a simple gift, but to nine-year-old Paige, it was her most prizes possession. Now, with over a decade passed and both her dad and grandmother dead, she had taken to holding it in her hand and fiddling with it, so much so that part of the lacquer was wearing away in a thumb-sized patch.
“I presume she is no longer with us?” Leo said with a sad smile.
“She passed away four years ago, not long after my dad died,” Paige said, her breath catching in her throat the same way it did every time she thought of her dad.
“I’m so sorry,” Leo said, “To lose both of them so close together must have been very difficult.”
“It was,” Paige said, “I thought I would never recover from the pain.”
“It isn’t quite the same to lose a sibling as to lose a parent, but I can empathise. When I lost my sister, I was so young, I felt like the world had ended.”
“Of course, I’m sorry, you know exactly how it feels. How old were you?” Paige said gently.
“I was 6 years old. She was 13, barely a teenager when we lost her. We were very close, despite the age gap,” Leo said, eyes drifting unfocussed in the mid distance.
“I’m so sorry,” Paige said, “She was so young.”
“She was. There is nothing as surreal as a child’s funeral,” he said, lost in memories, but the open tone of their conversation was encouraging him to speak, “It poured for her funeral day. My parents planned a huge wake in the garden after the church service, and we had to cancel it. I didn’t think that day could be any more difficult, but somehow knowing that the rain had spoiled her wake made it so much harder. Her coffin was so tiny... it was as if she wasn’t in there at all. As if it was for someone else.” He broke off as if worried her drifted too far into the past. Paige gave a sympathetic smile to reassure him that she understood. Leo gave a half-smile back.
“How awful, your parents must have been devastated,” Paige said.
“Yes... especially as my father blames himself,” Leo said gravely, “He was there when she died.”
“Oh my god... that’s awful. But why does he blame himself?”
“Well, because it was his from..” Leo was cut off as Paige’s phone began to ring, “Do you need to get that?” Paige examined the screen and saw Rufus’ name appear.
“No, I’ll ignore it,” Paige said, pressing the call decline button. Her phone immediately started to ring again, “I’m really sorry,” she said, muting her phone. She noticed she had two texts from her mum.
Mum
19.30pm
Rufus rang me. He’s coming to Oxford this weekend and wants to see you.
19.32pm
What do I do?
