The Visitors(73)

Her eye make-up was dark and sultry and her lips pouted in a shimmery pale apricot gloss. In contrast, Holly felt like a little kid dressed as a woman.

‘You look really beautiful, Geraldine,’ she’d said dutifully.

‘Thank you, darling.’ She’d gracefully accepted the glass of champagne that Brendan handed her. He’d picked up another glass and offered it to Holly.

‘Thanks, but I was just going to have juice tonight,’ she’d said.

‘Ahem… nobody will be drinking orange juice on my watch.’ Brendan had grinned, holding his own glass aloft. ‘Cheers!’

They’d toasted and Holly took a sip of the fizz. She had to admit it did taste delicious.

After the food, which Holly had noticed they both barely touched, Brendan put on a George Michael album and the three of them retired to the big soft leather couches.

‘I’ll have another drink with you and then I’ll take myself up to bed,’ Holly had said. ‘It’s been a really lovely evening.’

‘Nonsense,’ Geraldine had replied. ‘We hardly ever get the chance to chat together, the three of us. I don’t want you to go up yet, Holly.’

Holly had forced a smile and wondered how many more of Brendan’s business stories she could endure without falling asleep. They all ran along the same lines: an amazing business opportunity presented itself, somebody mucked the deal up, everyone thought all was lost, and then clever, resourceful Brendan saved the day. Yawn.

The worst part had been that he addressed everything he said directly to Holly, forcing her to pay attention and make all the right noises in all the right places.

Geraldine’s initial brighter mood had seemed to desert her after dinner, and she’d sat staring into space as Brendan rattled through his stories, obviously bored out of her brains from hearing them all before.

Holly had thought the end of the evening was drawing near, that soon she’d be tucked up in bed savouring a little time alone before sleep. Precious moments when she could be herself again.

She couldn’t have known that within the hour, she would lose ‘Holly’ altogether. That even years later, she would still be fighting to find herself.





Chapter Fifty-Seven





David





My eyes snap wide open.

For a second or two I don’t know where I am, until I turn my head and see the reassuring square of the floral curtains filtering the early light at the window.

My heartbeat slows a touch but I still do the talking bit to soothe myself.

I’m at home, in my bed. I’m safe. Everything is fine.

It’s the same voice that reassured the young lad in the playground when he had nobody to play with at break time and lunch. It’s the same voice that calmed him down on the daunting walk home, wondering if Johnny Camps and his mates would be waiting for him round the next corner yet again.

It’s all in the past now. I’m looking ahead to the future.

I do the breathing, in and out. Long, slow breaths that carry away the tightness in my face. I wiggle my jaw and get the satisfying crack that will release yet more tension.

In a rush, I remember that I forgot to take my tablets again yesterday. I’ll need to remove them from the foil packets, flush them down the loo before Mother sees.

I kick off the covers, exposing my hot limbs to the cool air.

The dream… It was so real.

I was back there, on that very street. Della was screaming so loudly, but I couldn’t stop myself… I couldn’t stop punching and kicking, even when my knuckles were skinned. And then, when she collapsed on the floor, I still couldn’t stop.

I did the only thing I could do in the dream… I ran. And when the police sirens came, I ran faster still.

That day, when they picked me up, I was still running.

Later, all the police wanted to know was why I’d tried to escape, and of course, I had no answer for that. I could hardly say I was so far gone in the red mist of rage that if I hadn’t managed to get myself away, they’d be investigating a murder now.

I was sorry, I said. I was so sorry for Della and sorry, now, for what I’d done.

I shake my head to dispel the thoughts. This line of thinking is not remotely helpful.

Things are different now.

I have a good job and I have Holly’s friendship.

I’m not a dangerous man. Despite everything that happened, things getting out of hand.

Everybody loses it at some point in their life; it’s just that it had disastrous consequences for Della.

One day, I might even tell Holly about it, but not now. Probably not for a very long time.

The last thing I want to do is scare her off.





Chapter Fifty-Eight





Holly





Holly sat up in bed and swung her legs out from under the covers until her feet touched the scratchy threadbare carpet.

She stared at the window, the spot where she’d stood in the early hours.

As predicted, she’d lain awake for ages after hearing the noises outside and then spotting the staring figure at the end of the garden.

Finally forcing herself back to bed, she’d had to fight the urge to keep getting up to peer out of the window, terrified that the figure had returned. A paralysing fear had kept her motionless and cowering under the duvet.