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Nowhere to go, no idea where I’m sleeping tonight. But at least I’ll still be alive. And Brad, the men, the girls, and the children will all be safe from the repercussions of unknowingly harboring me for months.
I pray.
I walk to the end of the building and drop my bag again, lighting up and leaning against the wall, sliding down the concrete until I’m crouched. The heat kicking off the stone behind me is intense. So intense, I’m forced to stand again and move away.
I pull my phone from my shorts pocket, contemplating texting him. Apologizing for deceiving him. For lying. But what’s the point? I can’t be with Brad and no apologies or words will change that. It was a dream. Story of my fucking life.
I slip my phone back into my pocket but freeze when something occurs to me. “Idiot,” I whisper to myself, pulling it back out and staring at the illuminated screen. “Stupid, stupid idiot.” I scan the area in front of me, spotting a Chevy waiting by the pick-up area, the rear window open. I approach and dip, smiling at the driver, a friendly looking lady with long, blonde curly hair and green-framed glasses. “Hi. Do you know how far it is to MIA?”
“Oh, maybe a half hour on the bus. A bit faster on the train.” She smiles past me. “Elise!”
“Mom!”
I turn around, seeing a young girl running toward the car. Dragging a backpack. I put my hand behind me, tactically keeping my back to the car while the lady jumps out of the driver’s side and runs around the front, embracing the girl. Mother and daughter.
“Oh, how I’ve missed you,” she sobs into her daughter’s neck. I can feel the strength of her hug from simply observing. And feel my heartache at the same time. I never had the chance to grieve the loss of my mother. I was too terrified, too focused on staying alive. Avoiding pain as best I could.
Then Brad Black found me, and for the first time since she died, I felt safe. Cherished. The mother and daughter before me blur as my eyes well. But I can see they’re still cuddling.
* * *
I turn the doorknob, pushing my way into the bathroom, the sound of running water now deafening. I step in, looking down at my bare feet on a frown. Water. The whole floor is an inch deep in water. “Mum?” I say quietly, an odd uneasy feeling swirling in my tummy. I find the roll-top, claw-foot tub in the bay window. Water is pouring over the edge, the tap still running. I step through the water, lifting my nightdress up from my ankles, slowly getting closer to the tub. But something inside holds me back from taking that final step to see over the edge. My heart pounds, so much I’m sure I might cough it up.
I inhale some bravery, moving forward. Inside the tub slowly comes into view.
Her face isn’t one I will ever forget. Eyes open. Staring up at the ceiling. Completely submerged.
“Mum,” I whisper. She’s naked.
And in her hand beneath the water, is her necklace.
* * *
I blink, holding up my unfinished cigarette, then I look over my shoulder. The lady and her daughter are still hugging. I drop my phone into the back of the car and go to a nearby bench, lowering. Finishing my cigarette.
* * *
“You want to have a bath?” I ask, instantly troubled. “I’m not sure I can.”
“Pearl, you can do anything in the world that you want to,” Brad says gently, sitting me by the sink. I look at the bath with narrowed eyes, hearing the sound of water pouring over the edge. “I’ve got you.”
* * *
He’s got me.
I had a bath for the first time in eight years. I listened to water running from a tap and made myself sustain it. Because he was there.
I hardly have the strength past my sob to take one last drag of my cigarette. But I try. Tasting Brad Black, Scotch, and his skin. I flick the butt away, my shoulders jumping from the effort to suppress my sobs, My eyes sting. Every single face I’ve come to know and love flashes through my mind, one after the other. Even the bloody dogs.
I sniff back my sadness, my reel of reminders finishing on the clearest face of all.
My love.
49
BRAD
* * *
