26
The car park is abandoned save for my car and what I recognise as Vicky’s silver BMW. The grey clouds are gathering above my head when I park the car as far away as possible from Vicky’s and head towards the main path slithering among the trees. I spot Vicky from a distance, not far from a gazebo we used to drink in as teenagers. Dressed in a tailored black dress, swanky cream coat and red heels, she stands out among the ancient oaks like a sore thumb.
When I’m close enough to hear her heels grinding against the gravel and decomposing leaves, I inhale.
‘Is it true?’ I shout because I’m ready to be loud.
Her back stiffens at the volume of my voice. It takes her a few beats to spin to face me. When she does, she’s a rabbit caught in the headlights.
It starts to rain, and water and wind start lashing against my body. I damn the decision to leave my coat in the car. I’ve never felt like the weather has mirrored my mood like now. I’m soaked within seconds.
‘Is it true?’ I repeat over the booming whoosh of the water, taking resolute steps towards her.
She doesn’t speak and just stands there helplessly. She looks like a stranger. White-hot rage blinds me, and before I compose myself, my fist connects with her jaw. Sharp pain lances through my knuckles, and I shake my hand to chase it away.
Vicky stumbles back with the force of the blow and grabs her jaw which immediately starts swelling. I have never punched another person, and I don’t think I’ve done it right because my knuckles hurt like hell.
My lip wobbles, but I brace myself. ‘How could you? You were my friend.’
‘I’m not proud of myself. For what it’s worth, I’d take it back if I could.’ There’s no redemption for her. Not now, not ever.
‘Do you know what you’ve done? You’ve ruined us. You’ve ruined our lives.’ I’m not sure who this us is that I’m referring to, but I realise it’s all of us. Alex, me, and even Vicky. None of us has been spared the consequences of her actions.
‘I was in love with him, you know. Long before you even noticed him,’ she confesses miserably, her words a bare whisper over the storm. ‘He never noticed me even though I made it clear I liked him. And then he only had eyes for you. Do you know how that feels?’ She wraps the coat around her body protectively, but the wind laces through the layers of her clothing like a knife through half-melted butter. She looks suddenly smaller, less glamorous.
‘What? One person out of the whole universe rejecting you? Boohoo. That must have been tough.’ My words are harsh, but I’m done being cowered by her personality. I like myself the way I am and that’s enough.
‘You never knew what it was like for me at home. My dad was emotionally abusive, and Mum always expected me to be perfect because, in my dad’s eyes, she could never be. One misstep and it was marked against me forever. I always paid for it.’ A sick feeling builds up in my body at her confession. ‘They’ve always doted on you. You were perfect. I was too loud and not studious enough. But Holly was perfection. Holly did this and that. That’s all I had to listen to when I was a teenager. And then the only boy I ever liked wanted you.’ She sounds so miserable and so unlike herself I hug my arms around my freezing body for comfort.
She always made me feel she had a perfect life. She’s always been pretty and bright and funny. Everyone always loved her. Or did they?
‘Even now my parents are like, “Look at Holly. She’s a fucking teacher . ” I’m so sick of being second. Why do you think I had to get out as soon as I could?’ Her voice breaks, water sluicing down her coat and to her bare legs that are covered in mud splatters. She resembles a drowned rat, her blonde hair plastered to her long, graceful neck. ‘Back then, I didn’t think. I wanted him, and I would have done anything to get him. I chased him even when you got together. I messaged him some awful things to make him feel the way he made me feel, but I still made the messages sound like he was the one following me. I knew he was trapped; he couldn’t tell you or show you. I made sure of that. I was beyond reason because I was hurting.’ Her voice is all over the place like a badly tuned instrument.
‘Then you launched yourself at him at Meg’s party? What did he do? The truth this time.’
‘I kissed him, and he said no. But I convinced myself that he was playing hard to get so I pushed him into an armchair and threw myself at him. He froze and stupidly I took it as a yes. When he eventually pushed me away, he sent me to hell. I threatened that I would tell you that he forced me if he told you about it.’ She looks everywhere but at me. When she does, mascara is running down her face in rivulets, and I’m not sure whether it’s her tears or rain. ‘I was embarrassed and desperate, and I didn’t want to lose you. I knew I made a mistake, and I didn’t want you to find out. You were all I had left.’
‘I’m truly sorry that you suffered as a child, but it doesn’t justify the decisions you’ve made. You’re a shark, Vicky. You carve your way through people, leaving only debris behind. Nobody can make you feel better but yourself. We’re done.’
‘I went to apologise to him,’ she whispers weakly. ‘I found him on Facebook weeks ago when you told me he worked at your school. I finally contacted him today to apologise. I told him what I’d done. I told him you were innocent in all of that.’
‘You can’t fix something that broke ten years ago.’
She nods like she expected me to say exactly that.
‘You should have told me that things were tough at home. I would have listened; I would have been there.’ My tone is desperate because my heart is breaking all over again, but this time over a friend I’ve just lost. I wonder at my heart’s capacity to break over and over again, and yet, be able to pump blood around my body and keep me alive.
‘You looked up to me so much. I didn’t want you to pity me.’
‘How has that worked out for you?’ I don’t expect an answer. ‘And please don’t question my intelligence by pretending you did things out of not wanting my pity. You liked that I worshipped you, but I’m done feeling belittled by you. Goodbye, Vicky.’ I turn my back to her and head back to the car park. When I get in the car, she’s still standing there in the rain. I’ve never seen a lonelier sight. I pull myself together and put the car in gear.
When I finally get to Alex’s flat, it’s twenty past three. I’m soaked to the bone, and my hand is on fire, my knuckles starting to bruise. I park a street away and walk towards his flat. The area seems nice. Tall pine trees shield the view of the busy road, and everywhere I look, there are red-brick houses converted to flats. Alex’s flat is in one of the older buildings with big bay windows and perfectly manicured hedges around the communal garden. He deserves to live somewhere as peaceful as here.
A couple pushes through the main entrance, and I squeeze in after them, shaking water onto the thick carpet like a dog. Lydia’s jumper is soaked through, and the jeans haven’t fared much better. There goes looking respectable.
Fuelled on adrenalin, I run up the stairs in one go. I come to a halt in front of a door with an eighteen on it. I can’t catch my breath, but it has nothing to do with me running and everything to do with the fact that I have no idea what I’m going to say to him. At this point, I’d be happy with some ice for my hand and a cup of coffee.
I brace myself and press the bell anyway.