Reasons Why - 18

Chapter 18

                “Nothing, just my father...he wants to scatter Owen’s ashes...suddenly it’s urgent!” Chloe lied. It was all she could do to protect herself.

Chris looked puzzled, “so he wants you home?” He wasn’t convinced by her explanation. She’d looked terrified during the call, hardly warranted from a plea to come home.

She was trying to gulp at air without being too obvious, wanting to regain control of her rolling brain, and the shifting room she seemed to be in, “they need to let go, move on, but I’ve put it off, for as long as I can.”

                “Shit! Chloe, I didn’t even think...”

She smiled, leading him back to the sofa and the film they were watching, sinking onto the seat gratefully. “It’s inevitable, not something I want to dwell on now, whilst I’m here. But I know I have to face the music when I go home.”

It was a sobering thought, not just her leaving, but going home to that...he really wanted to say the right thing, do the right thing. But she was distracted and flighty since the call and he couldn’t help but note the anxiety and apprehension rising in him like a toxic illness.

He left that night and it was the first night in over a week that they’d slept apart, but she’d asked him to go, to give her some space. And whilst he didn’t want to, wanted to stay with her desperately, he had to respect her wishes, and give her a little space.

Chloe woke in a cold sweat; her dream was so vivid, sat in the court opposite that animal, facing accusations and questions that she couldn’t answer. Her parents sat shaking their heads, embarrassed, people judging her.

There was no chance of anymore sleep, so she got up and headed downstairs, thinking that just maybe a glass of milk, tea...anything might help her sleep. Sat on the sofa, she curled her legs up underneath her and flicked on the TV. At this time of night she had the choice of dubious made for TV movies, or European news, she opted for the latter, watching floods hit Cornwall in the UK, and a heat wave in the Mediterranean. Then there was the start of the football season. She was trying to sleep, but every time she got tired, she saw the ugly distorted face of her brother’s killer, and the nausea and fear returned.

                “Hey? You ok?” Chloe looked up to see Phil in the doorway. “Can’t sleep?”

She shook her head, “no. I’m in a bad place tonight Phil, hoping the news of worse tragedies will brighten me up!”

                “What happened? Why are you so down?”

She sighed, “Dad phoned earlier. The trial date is set...” When he groaned and reached out to squeeze her shoulder, she added, “and I’ve been called as a witness for the defence!”

As she dissolved into a silent sob, he swore, louder than she’d ever heard him swear.

                “How the fuck did that happen?”

Shrugging she allowed him to pull her close and hug her. And they sat in silence for a moment, long moments.

Eventually Phil spoke again and they discussed the issue at length. Could she refuse? No. Could she be ambiguous in her answers, maybe? But she assured him that if she lied that it would disrespect and dishonour her brother’s memory. She just hoped that her testimony didn’t skew the jurors’ decision.

                “So is that why you sent Chris away?”

She nodded, “I can’t sully what we have with this Phil. He doesn’t need my shit.”

Phil shook his head, “the man is crazy about you. Relationships are all about the bad as well as the good times. He’ll understand, and maybe what you need is to be a little more honest, open...trust him!”

She turned to Phil, feeling her whole world caving in, “how will he understand? How can I tell him all that I did, all that I am? This last month has been a lie, I’ve played a game where there aren’t dark clouds in my mind, I don’t have a bleak past. But both here, and in real life I don’t have a future Phil. I’m tainted aren’t I? Who the hell would want me?”

Phil tried to comfort her, but instead of upset, she became angry, pushing him away. Storming out of the room she changed into her running gear and left the house, the ground passing under her pounding feet until she’d distanced herself from everything she knew. Sat on a rock overlooking the swirling early morning sea on a coast line miles from home, she glanced at her watch; it was still only five am. There were a couple of hours until she was expected to have the kids, so she had time to sit, catch her breath, and wonder how she told Chris that she was leaving, going home.

By the time she got back to the house, she was exhausted, physically and emotionally. She’d run miles along the street, then there was the barrage of emotions she’d had to deal with. Owen, his death, her role in it all. Guilt was such a destructive emotion.

Phil rushed into the hall when she opened the front door. But she kept her head low and barged past him, upstairs to the shower. She wished the jets were knives as the pain of them would take away the pain that bombarded her every thought. As she was drying herself, and sliding into her pyjamas, the door opened and a bleary eyed Carter stood there.

                “Bad dream!” he mumbled.

Putting aside a retort of ‘tell me about it’, she squatted down to his level, “oh no! Give me a hug!” He wrapped his arms around her and as she carried him downstairs, she listened to his stories of monsters in cupboards. SO glad to lose herself in something so normal, so glad that it defeated her nightmares. These two boys were the greatest tonic for her. By the time they reached the kitchen he was smiling and brave and had defeated dragons and goblins in his exaggerated tale, and she could deposit him in front of his parents and avoid any confrontation.

Sipping black coffee, she avoided the eyes of her brother who flashed looks of concerns over the head of his son, she didn’t need that now. They left for work and finally she relaxed. She didn’t want Phil telling her she was crazy, didn’t want that analysis and judgement from him. Didi was always easier, she let her talk, didn’t push issues, but Phil wanted to confront everything directly, head on, and that just wasn’t her way. With the amusement of the boys, she didn’t have time to wallow in self pity.

She’d arranged to take them to a pool that day, and they loved it. It was an hour out of town, with slides, play pools, and most importantly slides. Carter was a confident swimmer, but Chloe was still a little nervous at the thought of him leaving her side, so it was a little chaotic to allow him to ride slides but still be there to catch him, Mikey on her hip. But she managed.  When she loaded them into Didi’s car after a few hours of play and lunch, they both immediately fell asleep, exhausted.

Chloe drove in silence, shaking her head she had to snap out of this low, she’d fought so hard to come back from the edge, she couldn’t let this send her back. She’d had so many text messages and calls from Chris through the day and she’d not replied to one of them. He’d helped her heal more than he’d ever know. But she’d lied to him so much, she’d been someone else in his arms, as the centre of his devotion, friendship and oh so much more. But she only had one more week here, then she was supposed to be travelling for ten days. Then home to face the music. Chloe knew she could enjoy the time with him, but Phil was right, he did care for her, and she was hurting him more with every moment she spent with him.

The last four weeks had been heaven. A million memories created for the rest of her life, she’d never had such an attentive lover. He had more creativity, more imagination and more desire to please her than any man she’d ever met. And then there was her response to him. She blushed as she remembered the way she’d teased him, the way he’d rescued her when they first met, so romantic, and how she’d ridden him, tasted him, been explored, all with a wild abandon that was a zillion miles from the prim lawyer in London. He’d brought out the hidden siren in her and she loved him for it...she jolted, pulling the car to the side of the road.

She didn’t love him, she couldn’t. This was a temporary thing, a fling, a romance, someone, and something to make her feel human. Chloe knew she wasn’t ready to love. Her broken heart was a long way from healed.

And for the first time in a while she let her mind wander back to Owen. It was where she’d seemed to drift so much in the beginning, but for a long time she’d been able to keep away from it, no since she’d met Chris she’d been able to control her recessions into the past. But here she was there again. Stood looking down at her brother’s cold grey body. The image was more vivid than any photograph could be, from the purple bruise that marred his cheek, to the glassy appearance of those grey eyes. Guilt that it was him and not her, guilt that her parents weren’t coping, and devastation that she’d lost him forever and all because he was coming to her to apologise.

Her fault, her grief and her guilt. As it had been all her taking those pills, needing to end those feelings in the only way she could imagine.