Seventeen

Ana

I watch as Freja climbs into her car, Dag’s already gone out. He’s been out most of the morning, at the club, but it’s taken ages for Freja to leave the house. And she wanted me to go with her, of course she did, but I feigned a sickness bug. Made myself vomit just to feed the lie, and I hate deceiving Dag and Freja because they’ve been nothing but patient and kind and understanding, but I’m tired of feeling like a prisoner. Which I’m not, or that’s what they keep telling me, anyway, but I might as well be. So I lied. And eventually, after making a phone call, to the club I’m guessing, Freja relented: told me to stay in bed, rest up, and that she’d be back as soon as possible.

I’m not stupid. I know that the phone call she made is going to mean someone from the club is already on their way to stand guard outside: make sure I don’t leave the house, and that’s why I know I have to be quick: why I’m out of there in a heartbeat the second Freja drives away. She’d locked the doors, front and back, but she’d forgotten all about the windows, so it wasn’t hard to escape, but I still need to keep a low profile, stay away from the main roads, because the second the alarm is raised: when they finally realize I’m not home they’ll more than likely send out a search party. I just have to hope that whoever they’re sending over to the house right now – I have to hope they don’t actually go inside. That would give me more time.

I pull my beanie hat down over my head and check my pocket to make sure the money I took from Freja’s purse early this morning, before she was up, is still there. It is. And I feel guilty for doing that: stealing from Freja, but what choice did I have? They won’t give me any money because they have every reason to believe I’m going to do exactly what I’m doing now. Run. And they’d be right…

I walk quickly to the nearest bus stop. One is due in five minutes, so I sit down, lean forward, keep my head bowed. And my stomach’s in knots, but this is something I have to do. And keeping me from doing it, all that’s done is make me all the more determined because nobody is giving me the answers I need. So I’m just going to have to get them myself. Or try to, anyway.

I breathe a sigh of relief as the bus approaches, and I jump on, pay my fare, and find a seat at the back, where it’s quieter. I stare out of the window and watch the world speed by, familiar places, getting more familiar as the journey continues, and my stomach begins another round of nervous flips. And then I realize I have no need to be nervous. They were keeping me there against my will, I have every right to leave: come back home. Except, I don’t have a home anymore, do I?

The bus finally pulls up at my stop, and I jump off, shove my hands in my pockets and start walking the short distance to the pretty little street where Lars and Lea live. And it feels like an eternity since I was last here, even though it was just a matter of months. Their small but gorgeous little house was like a second home to me. In fact, before all of this we were talking about me moving in with them. It would’ve made the rent cheaper, splitting it three ways, and I feel a pain in my chest at the thought of the life I could’ve had. Should’ve had. Maybe can have again, if I can just get in touch with my friends.

Rounding the corner, I stop for a second, shielding my eyes from the sun as I look up the street. Everything seems so normal. Ordinary. Exactly as it was the last time I was here, which, like I said, wasn’t all that long ago. But there’s something in the air that tells me nothing is the same. Everything is different.

Walking slowly up the street, toward Lars and Lea’s, my heart is beating so hard and so fast it’s making it difficult for me to breathe. But I keep going, stopping only when I reach their familiar green front door. And I’m about to knock on it when it opens, and I take a step back as a young woman with the bluest of eyes and a kind face stands there, her smile slightly wary as she looks at me. She must’ve seen me coming. And I guess I must look a bit of a state, I can’t remember the last time I brushed my hair or wore makeup.

“Can I help you?” the woman asks, crossing her arms over her chest, her eyes fixed firmly on mine. I feel tears start to sting my eyes but I blink them away as I search for a handkerchief in my jacket pocket. I knew, deep down, that Lars and Lea wouldn’t be here, but the reality of that is hitting me harder than I expected it to.

“Erm, yes… I’m sorry, I was just – do you live here?”

“I just moved in yesterday. Why?”

Her expression is more than a little wary now, which I completely understand. But she might be able to help me. She might know something, I’m clinging onto any hope right now.

“I – I know the people who used to live here. And I was just wondering if you, maybe, knew where they’d moved to?”

The woman shakes her head. “No, I’m sorry, I have no idea. The former occupants had to leave in a hurry, that’s all I know.” She frowns. “Couldn’t you just call them? Or text them? Look them up on social media?”

I’ve tried all of that. While my old phone was taken from me, I was given a new one. A brand new phone clean of all my past contacts, but I could still use the internet. I could still remember Lars and Leas’ numbers, but when I called them I got nothing. Their numbers had been disconnected. There was no trace of them on social media, even my own accounts had been deleted. And our business, that’s been dissolved. It’s gone. Everything’s gone. Coming here, it was a last resort. A shot in the dark.

I force a smile and nod and tell her what I think she wants to hear. “Yes, of course, I’ll do that. We haven’t seen each other in a while, that’s all. I just didn’t think… Anyway, thank you for your help.”

“No worries.” She steps back inside and closes the door and for a moment I just stand there, and remember all the times I went through that door. All the good times we’d shared in that house, Lars, Lea and I. And I feel a pain so raw and so real it’s excruciating.

The weight of disappointment takes over my entire body as I walk away, and even though I know it’s pointless, I head in the direction of my own home. My old home. The one I’d shared with my beautiful, wonderful mama. And it only takes a few minutes to reach it, but as soon as I set foot on the street I stop. I stay rooted to the corner of this incredibly pretty, smart, neat little row of houses, and I look over at mine. What used to be mine. And it still looks the same. The same red front door; the same two dwarf conifers in terracotta pots either side of the doorstep. And I’m about to walk toward it when a black Mercedes pulls up outside. So I stop: watch as a tall, dark haired man climbs out of the car and walks up the front path, lets himself into the house, and closes the door behind him. And I feel my heart break. My stomach’s twisted up in a knot, and those tears that were threatening before are now spilling over my cheeks.

I know I should just walk away: put all of this behind me because it’s gone. My friends, my family, my business, my home, they’re all gone. If I didn’t believe it before I do now, I have no other choice. Any hope I might have had has been dashed, I’ve seen it with my own eyes. Lars and Lea have just disappeared and with it, I’m guessing, our business. My home is now owned by someone new, it’s like the life I had before has just been erased. And it hurts like hell, the pain is real, and I want to run so far away from everything, but where would I go? Who would I run to? I had no other family but my mama; Lars and Lea.

My phone ringing out pulls me back to the here and now and I reach for it, pulling it from my pocket. It’s Joel. I sigh and reject the call, but he immediately calls back. I reject it again, and I know all that’s going to do is anger him but I want a couple more minutes of peace. Time to think. Accept this new reality? I’m not sure that’s ever going to happen.

I’m distracted by the sound of a motorbike, and as I spin around to see what’s happening, it screeches to a halt beside me, and only then do I realize who it is. I was na?ve to think they wouldn’t find me. Wouldn’t know where I would head.

Joel pulls off his helmet and stares at me, and he’s angry. No surprise there.

“What the fuck are you doing?”

“Looking for answers.”

“Did you find any?”

I don’t want to cry, especially not in front of him, so I take a deep breath and stand up straight: look him in the eyes as defiantly as I can. “I found out what I needed to know.”

“What we’d already told you.”

“Why can’t you just let me go?” My voice is little more than a whisper now, because resignation is slowly starting to sink in.

“Get on the bike.”

I hesitate for a second, but then I climb on behind him, pull on my helmet and reach for the grab rail as we speed off. I hang my head and close my eyes, and I don’t open them until the bike stops and I see that we’re parked on the driveway of a smart, two-storey house on a neat suburban street.

“Where are we?” I ask, frowning as I pull off my helmet and look around.

“My place.” Joel climbs off the bike and strides toward the front door, stopping to look back at me because I haven’t moved. “Come on.”

I reluctantly follow him through the front door into a bright and airy hallway that smells of citrus and fresh air.

“What’s the matter?” he asks, throwing his keys into a basket on the sideboard next to the door. “Not what you were expecting?”

“Do you live here alone?” He must be married. Or live with someone, surely?

“Yeah. Why?”

I look at him, and then take another glance around me. “It just doesn’t feel like somewhere someone like you would live.”

He arches an eyebrow. “Someone like me?”

I just shrug. He knows what I mean.

“Come through to the kitchen.”

I follow him into a spacious, modern kitchen with white units and a picture window that looks out onto a small but tidy back yard. This can’t be his house, it just can’t be.

“Do you want a drink?” he asks, opening the fridge and taking out two bottles of beer. And I don’t really want anything from him but I take the beer he offers me anyway.

“Thank you.”

He leans back against the counter and takes a swig of beer. “What did you think was going to happen today, Ana?”

“I needed answers.”

“We’ve told you everything we know–”

“You’ve told me everything you think I need to know.”

His eyes bore into mine. “You need to stop this. Okay?”

“Stop what?”

“Fighting us.”

I fall back against the wall, my shoulders sagging. I’m too tired, too defeated to keep this up now. Maybe it would be easier if I just gave in.

“When we tell you you’re not safe out there, Ana, we’re not telling you that to scare you. We’re telling you that because it’s true.”

I stare past him, out of the window. “Why didn’t you take me back to Dag and Freja’s?”

“Because they’re not home.”

“You could’ve taken me to the clubhouse.”

“But I didn’t. I brought you here.” He takes another swig of beer before slamming the bottle down onto the countertop and striding toward the door. “I need to make a few calls. Go sit in the living room, put the TV on, read a book…”

“You have books?”

He looks at me, narrowing his eyes slightly. “Don’t even think about leaving. I’ll be back in a minute.”

I watch him go, raking a hand through his hair as he walks out of the room. I hear him go upstairs, hear a door close, and even though I could quite easily walk out of here now, I don’t. And not because he told me not to, but because, for some reason, I don’t want to…