Chapter 39 Amelia
Amelia
Nine Months Later
“Ginny Glover. Amelia Haynes. Petra Papac.”
Putting my book down, I sit up and climb off my cot.
“I thought you said your dad wasn’t coming till next week.”
“He’s not.”
“Glover. Haynes. Papac. Don’t make me call a third time.”
Rushing over to the door, C.O. Collins is stood in the middle of the block clutching a clipboard. Ginny and Petra walk toward him and whatever he says has them breaking out into huge grins.
Rushing down the stairs, I head over and clear my throat to announce myself.
“I’m glad you could join us.”
“What’s going on?”
Ginny and Petra have rushed back to their cells.
“You’re up for early release. You have ten minutes to pack up. Here.”
He passes me a clear sack and numbly, I reach out and take it.
“What?”
“I’ve already had to repeat myself, you heard clear enough. Nine minutes.”
Backing up, I climb the stairs two at a time. My breath coming short and sharp. I barrel into the cell and Lori raises her brows.
“What did he want?”
“I’m getting out.”
I can’t quite believe I’m saying the words I’ve waited so long to say.
“I’m going home.”
Taking a shuddery breath, I make a start pulling down my photos, careful not to tear any. I scoop up the pile of Darius’s letters and then I stop. The food and drinks, the shower products, everything else I’ve accumulated is stuff I won’t need once I get home.
“You can have it all,” I tell Lori.
“You serious?”
“You need it more than me.”
Picking up the sack, I surprise myself by taking one last look around. It doesn’t take me long, the cell isn’t that big, and I laugh to myself.
“So this is goodbye?” Lori says.
“I guess so, yeah.”
“What you waiting for then? You’ve got a little girl to go see.”
She pulls me in and wraps her arms around me so tight, my eyes fill with water, and I hug her back.
“Whoever they replace you with better step up. I’m gonna miss you.”
Swallowing thickly, I step away and she shoves me till I’m out on the landing.
“Go on now, before they change their minds.”
“Good luck with everything, Lori. I hope your day comes faster than the days that have passed.”
“Me too.”
I don’t look back. I keep walking and join Ginny and Petra with C.O. Collins. Going through the motions of being released becomes a dream like state and it’s not until I’m outside, breathing in clean air, that the world around me sharpens into focus and speeds up.
I have to check in with a parole officer tomorrow and unlike Ginny, I get to go home. She has to stay at a hostel as she has no address.
I was given a little cash and as I stand at the bus stop I was dropped off at, it’s not home I get the bus to.
While I ride the bus, I take out my photos and letters and stuff them in my pockets.
Even though the guy in front of me smells like cigarettes and liquor, I inhale it all. So many scents you forget while away.
I wiggle my feet and smile when I see my boots instead of lace-less tennis shoes.
It feels weird wearing the clothes I was arrested in but it’s not enough to freak me out. I’ll happily wear anything as long as it’s not a jumpsuit.
I pull the cord when I recognise where I am. The bus comes to a stop, and I step off and bask in the warm sunshine.
Darius’s house is two streets over and as much as I can’t wait to hold my little girl, nerves are setting in and paranoia plagues me.
There’s a high possibility she’s not going to know who I am. Maybe I should’ve gone straight to my dad’s first.
Pushing through the small voice trying to get to me, I push on and turn onto Darius’s street.
Walking by Tariq’s place, no one’s sat outside, no music is playing from inside. No curtains are open. It’s almost like it’s been abandoned.
I will my hand to stop shaking as I raise my fist to knock on Darius’s door. Closing my eyes, I hear Marie’s soap drama playing on the other side of the door and I smile.
My eyes fly open when the door opens and I step back when a girl around my age answers, holding Elsa-Marie in her arms.
“Oh God,” I whisper. “Look how much you’ve grown, beautiful girl.”
Reaching out, I go to stroke her hair when the girl jolts back out of my reach.
Frowning, I don’t get the chance to speak.
“Who the fuck are you?”
“I’m her mother.”
“Her momma is behind bars, she’s not out for months. Leave now or I’ll call her daddy.”
“Give me your phone and I’ll call him myself.”
“Fuck off.”
She slams the door in my face, and I stumble back. Storming down the front path, I go to head back to the bus stop when Jermaine’s car rolls up.
My heart races and I take a step away. He climbs out from behind the wheel and Tariq climbs out of the passenger side. No Darius.
“Dar didn’t say you were getting out today,” Jermaine says.
“He doesn’t know. Where is he?”
He taps away on his phone and presses it to his ear. I don’t catch what he says but he’s soon enough ending the call and then he says, “He’s on his way. He wants you to wait.”
I drop down onto the curb and pull my knees up to my chest. I ignore Tariq’s stares. He’s nothing to me. Nothing but a reminder of what I’ve been through. It was him who kept leaving Clare in the worst parts of the city. So many people have played a part in where my life led me to.
After a few minutes, Jermaine leans against his car and lights a cigarette. Tariq heads down the street to his house.
A part of me wants to burn it down with him inside but that’s not who I am. And now I’m free, I need to put the darkness behind me and leave it in the past.
Tires screech as they come to a fast stop, and I shield my hand over my eyes from the sun. Darius is out of his car and running across the street, pulling me up to my feet and collecting me in his arms before I can see him clearly.
I force myself to hold him back but I’m not fast enough. He pulls away and cups the sides of my face. I’m about to ask who the hell the girl is looking after my daughter when he slams his lips onto mine.
I should kiss him back, stick to my plan, but I can’t move. It doesn’t last long and then he’s beaming that killer smile of his at me.
“How are you out?”
“Early release.”
“I had it all planned out, I was going to pick you up and…”
“And what?”
He frowns. Staring between me and the house over my shoulder.
“Why aren’t you inside with Elsa?”
“Whoever you have looking after our daughter slammed the door in my face.”
He moves around me so fast I spin on my toes. He jogs up to his house and I freeze, having no choice but to stay where I am.
He doesn’t make me wait long before he’s walking out holding Elsa. One step, then another, I move without feeling a thing. All I can see is her. I meet them at the gate, and she becomes blurry through the tears wanting to spill over.
Swiping at them angrily, I collect myself and finally get to stroke her hair. He passes her over and I brace myself for her to cry. But it doesn’t come. She’s excited to see me. In all my dreams this always happened but in my nightmares she always screamed and cried.
“She remembers me,” I sigh with so much relief I feel faint.
Holding her close, I plant so many kisses on her cheeks, her hair, I lose count.
She smells like home.
She feels like home.
“Elsa, who’s this?” Darius asks her, pointing to me.
“Mama,” she chirps.
Every crack my heart has suffered, they’re all mended with one word from her.
“I show her your photos a hundred times a day, every single day. Your dad plays old recordings of you so she can hear your voice.”
I can’t bring myself to let her go, not even for a second. “Take me home,” I say quietly.
His car is still running in the middle of the street, and I open the back door and strap her into her seat. I choose to sit in the back with her, not wanting to be any closer to Darius than I have to be and not wanting to take my eyes off of my daughter.
He tries talking to me as he drives but I ignore him, and he gets the message I’m not going to talk. Dad’s car isn’t on the drive, but he’ll be at work and doesn’t know I was released.
Darius unlocks the front door as I hold onto Elsa, and I frown. Why does he have a key?
Everything looks the same when I step inside. Nothing is different. I head for the stairs, and I don’t stop until I’m in my bedroom. Everything is the same up here too.
I need to shower, to wash off that hell hole. I want to burn the clothes I’m wearing, never reminded of how I looked the night my life was ripped apart.
Darius hovers in the doorway, silently watching my every move.
“I need a shower… don’t leave this room.”
“We’re not going anywhere, Amelia.”
For some reason I believe him, but it doesn’t stop the ache beginning to grow being apart from her as he takes her from me.
I take the quickest shower, annoyingly reminding me of taking showers inside.
Wrapping a towel around myself, I smile at the softness of the fabric and wrap another around my hair.
Stepping into the bedroom, Darius is walking into the room with Elsa on his hip and a bottle in his hand.
“You said you wouldn’t leave.”
“She’s due a nap, Amelia, I just went to get her some milk.”
Drying off, I pull open the drawers and run my fingers over the denim jeans. Moving on, I dress in my favourite pair and a cashmere sweater. This time yesterday I was marking off another day wasted in my life and now, I’m home.
Darius lays Elsa on my bed and hands her the bottle. I’m not ready to be away from her just yet. The last time I was with her I had to feed her, now she’s holding the bottle herself.
“We should talk.”
I don’t look at him, I don’t reply. I climb onto the bed and lie beside the one reason I had to keep going.
Stroking her cheek as she guzzles on the milk, I don’t take my eyes off of her as hers begin to flutter closed.
I can’t see him from where I lay but I hear him sit at the dresser. I feel his eyes on me, never straying.
“Amelia?”
I jerk at the sound of my dad’s voice yelling up the stairs.
“Amelia!”
Jumping off the bed, I rush to the door as my dad comes to the top of the stairs.