CHAPTER VII

CHAPTER VII

“The best adventures come with a littlerisk.”

It was that thought that Amara held in her mind as she made her way across the Channel and landed in England at St Pancras station to be met with a barrage of assaults on her senses. Trains whistled over the constant chatter of commuters on their phones, and heavy, impatient feet slammed against concrete. Shoulders barged past her as they moved through the swarm of passengers on the platform. Everywhere she looked, heads bobbed along, working their way to the end of the platform. The smell of colognes and perfumes mixed with sweat, and vendors offering fresh food, made for an unpleasant combination of notes that tantalised even as it repulsed Amara. Even the air felt dense, heavy, difficult to breathe through.

She had an hour to wait until her connecting train took her on to Edinburgh. As she was desperately hungry, she went in search of the nearest eatery. After spending an entire day’s worth of money she’d set aside for herself on one tiny meal − a “homemade” BLT that had been soggy and cold and a coffee that had no depth of flavour − she was glad to not be staying in London. It was a strange city that reminded her of home and yet didn’t. It was unfriendly like most big cities yet unpleasant, she decided. Paying the bill by pulling out a couple of crisp notes from the rolled-up wad that had been buried deep in her tan leather bag that she slung across her chest as she stood, Amara headed back towards the station to catch her train toEdinburgh.

The train this time wasn’t as packed as it had been for her journey from Paris to London. The royal blue seats were plush to the eye, though not so much to the bum. She wriggled slightly, trying to adjust into a position that took maximum advantage of the limited padding in her seat. When she was comfortable, Amara looked around and saw that the carriage was occupied with three others and herself, though it had space for at least fifty. She’d chosen the carriage near the front of the train for its proximity to the toilet. According to the train guard that had just come over the intercom, she could expect a trolley service shortly too. Had she known that, she might not have ordered that patheticsandwich.

As the train began to pull away, Amara felt a tugging sensation within her snap. As if she’d just done something that could not be undone, or some twist of fate had painfully bound itself into place. Her spine locked, but as the train continued to roll out across the English capital and beyond into the countryside, she finally let the rhythm of the train soothe her senses.

It wasn’t until two hours into the journey that Amara’s eyes focused on the scenery in front of her, that she began to notice the man in the window staring at her. Examining the reflection, she could see that he had a round face, with ears that protruded slightly from underneath a mop of dirty blonde curls. His nose was curved and narrow, as if the smell in the carriage already offended him, and his eyes were as cat-like in shape as her own. Those eyes were definitely watchingher.

She couldn’t tell much else so she yawned, stretched her arms above her head, and resettled her gaze towards the carriage as if just making herself comfortable.

He was still staring.

Gaze lowered, Amara could still feel his eyes burrowing into her before she realised, as he came into her periphery, that he’d decided to be bold enough to stand up and come towardsher.

“I’m terribly sorry, lassie. Do you mind if I sithere?”

His accent sounded almost Gaelic, the words rolling around and out of his mouth in a rhythmic nature that Amara found warm and pleasant, even as his ice-blue eyes bored holes intoher.

“Not at all,” Amara replied, gesturing to the seat in front of her, the table providing some barrier of protection from this stranger who seemed far too interested in her. For what else could she do? Say no? With what God-given reason?

“You heading toEdinburgh?”

Given that was the only destination for the train, Amara thought it was a bit of a redundant question, but perhaps the man was just being polite in his small talk. She hated making people feel uncomfortable and so, while she would have preferred to stay in silence, she answered him.

“Yes, you?”

“Aye, back home to see the little sister and her weeones.”

“Oh, that’snice.”

“What aboutyou?”

“Excuseme?”

“Why are you heading to Edinburgh? If you don’t mind me asking ...” He smiled a lopsided grin that made him look charming and defenceless, and Amara silently berated herself again for being sodefensive.

She shrugged. “Felt like exploring thecountry.”

“Ah an explorer, aye. I could tell you weren’t from around theseparts.”

“What do you mean?” she asked, a curious smile on her lips, but already her stomach was free falling. What if she wasn’t wanted in Edinburgh? The thought, unwanted, crept into her mind.

“I don’t mean to be rude, mind, it’s just we don’t see many folks of your ... complexion back home. Most of us are pasty white redheads.” He laughed, like her skin colour was a matter of how many hours she spent in the sun. Suddenly, she didn’t feel quite so bad about making him feel uncomfortable and threw him a stony look.

He held his hands up. “I didn’t mean any offence. I’m just trying to be honest with ya. There’ll be some folk back home who will be lessaccommodating.”

Unlike you, an honest racist, she thought to herself, though it must have been written as clear across her face as newspaper ink.

“I’m sorry, I’ve offended ya. I can see that.”

When Amara continued to ignore him in favour of staring out the window, he slid a can of lager across the table between them. When Amara stared at it poisonously, he said, “It’s a peace offering. It won’t killya.”

Amara stared at the can. She didn’t want it, but the man across from her was still staring and she was becoming more uncomfortable with every passing second.

“Go on,” heencouraged.

The need to prove a point bowed to the need to stop the uncomfortable stare of this stranger. Amara slowly took the can, tapped on the top, and opened it to a hiss. Raising it to her lips she kept her eyes on the stranger across from her and took a small sip, ashamed of herself for caving. It tasted like cat piss, but she swallowed it anyway. It was better than the conversation.

“I’m Ralph,” the stranger said, reaching his hand across the table.

“Amara,” she answered, returning the gesture in kind because she felt she had to, now that she had accepted a gift from him, even as she tried to sink deeper back into her seat.

“Ya know, you remind me ofsomeone.”

“I do?” she asked, not particularlyinterested.

“Yeah, a woman I knew. Long time ago now. She looked at me like you’re looking at me now when she first met me.” Ralph pulled such a boyish scowl that Amara couldn’t help it, she laughed out loud.

“Aye, she did that too. Laughed like there wasn’t a care in the world. Usually because I’d done something daft.” He shrugged in a self-deprecating sort of way. He smiled, except the smile wasn’t for Amara this time. It was for the lady in his thoughts. One that put that far away look on his face. Amara felt her defences melting ever so slightly.

“When she laughed, it was like all she needed was the breath in her lungs and she’d have a life worth living,” he continued.

“That’s beautiful.” Amara replied, caught off guard by hiswords.

“Aye, her words not mine. I ain’t no poet.” He shrugged and took a swig from his can oflager.

And so that was how Amara and Ralph spent the rest of the trip to Edinburgh, sipping lager and making small talk about timespast.

“Wow, this place is … wow.” Amara breathed, trying to take it all in.

Ralph eyed her. “Alright, you’d think you’d never seen a train stationbefore.”

“Not one that looks like this.”

Where the glass dome made it feel like she was walking through a cathedral and the teal marble tiles gave Amara the impression she was gliding across water. Even the shops surrounding the main area of the station and the fast-food joint didn’t detract from the sense that she had just stepped through a portal fit for ... royalty. She wasn’t royalty, but the calming breath that filled her lungs whispered oneword.

Home.

A twinge of knowledge whispered in Amara’s ear but, as quickly as she became aware of it, it floated out of her head again. She knew after years of experience, grasping at the whisper would do no good. It would come back when she needed it.

“Are your sister and her kids here?” she asked Ralph, who was still standing beside her, a cargo green army bag slung over his shoulder.

He was shorter than Amara had realised when he was sitting opposite her, maybe only a couple of inches taller than her at best, though she was tall at five-foot nine. He wasn’t overly stocky either. Just an average height and average build for an average man, she supposed. He’d been good company on the trip though, apart from that initial faux pax, and kept her entertained with stories of what she could expect in Edinburgh.

“Nah, I’ll just hop in a taxi and head over to surprise ’em. Don’t suppose you know where you’regoing?”

Amara pulled what she hoped was an ‘easy-go-lucky’ traveller’s smile.

“No, but I’m sure I’ll figure itout.”

“Aye, why don’t you come with me? Just for a hot meal, like. Ain’t no hostel going to be serving food at this hour and you don’t want to eat alone. Plus, if you have a few drinks, you can have the spare room. I’ll crash on the sofa. I know ma sis won’tmind.”

“Oh no, I couldn’t.”

“Nah, come on. I insist. Give yourself a chance to get a hot meal in your belly and find your footing before exploring our beautifulhometown.”

“I wouldn’t want to impose though …”

“You won’t be imposing. Come on, I won’t take no for an answer now I’ve thought about it alil’.”

Amara hesitated and he saw it, taking it as good as a yes, and practically ushered her out of the station, one pudgy, sweaty hand on her lower back.

It turned out his sister didn’t live too far away at all. Then again, from what Amara could tell from the taxi window, Edinburgh didn’t seem that big. Oh but it was beautiful though, even if they’d arrived on a cold, wet evening that promised this winter would be cruel. It was all the more dramatic for being lit up against shiny, wet pavements. The castle sitting on the top of the hill overlooked the city, an imposing draconian building that watched over tiny humans going about their business in the dark. The gothic architecture of the buildings, lit from within, cast dark shadows across the streets. Amara watched from the taxi window as people scuttled along the streets. The city was alive with the hum of activity that said this was a healthy population who felt safe with one another, even in the darkest of night. That was Amara’s first impression of Edinburgh.

It was not to be hersecond.

Pulling up at the end of a set of terraced houses several minutes later, Amara and Ralph thanked the taxi driver as they got out. Amara turned and stared at the small house in front of them. It certainly didn’t look like the four-bedroom terraced house her travelling companion had described. The light above the door showed that the iron black gate wasn’t rusty and the garden bushes were neatly trimmed. Even with little light, she could tell it was a house that was loved and well taken care of. Not what Amara was expecting from a single mother raising three children alone. She’d half expected abandoned bikes and toys strewn about, weeds sprouting where they could.

She internally scolded herself for her prejudice.

Opening the gate, which protested with a high-pitched squeal at its unoiled hinges that echoed across the otherwise empty road, Ralph only had to take three steps before he could knock on the door. He ushered for Amara to come stand beside him.

The hallway light flickered on and the door opened a moment later to reveal a woman in her mid-thirties at best, with strawberry blonde hair that neatly bounced around her shoulders. She wore a white button-up top with sleeves rolled up, revealing her lightly freckled arms under the glow of the light and dark-green cargo capris which were held tightly to her small frame with a simple brown leather belt and brass buckle. She was much more petite than Amara had imagined, but when she saw who was at the door, the scowl on her face became mightylarge.

“What the HELL are you doing here, Ralph?!” she hissed in a furiouswhisper.

“Hey sis, good to see youtoo.”

The scowl deepened. Ralph’s sister kept one arm on the door, the other on the doorframe, blocking the entrance with her body.

“I told you I never wanted you to turn up on my doorstep again. And who the hell is this?”

The woman in the doorway pointed straight atAmara.

“This,” the Scotsman said, pushing Amara in between them, “is a friend of mine, who needs a hot meal and a place to stay for thenight.”

“Oh no I—” Amara began, but Ralph spoke over her loudly, apparently uncaring about waking up the neighbours.

“She’s never been to Edinburgh before. Would you really be the one to turn her away when I’ve told her so much about our proud hospitality? Would you see her sleep on the street?”

“I have a good mind to turn you away alright,” his sister scowled. She turned her assessing gaze to Amara, giving her the once over. As per usual with strangers, Amara felt their tension and automatically tried to soothe it by calming her own rapid heartbeat. Ralph’s sister did what all the others in the past had done, which was to take a deep breath and allow her shoulders to drop. Surmising Amara wasn’t a threat and nodding to herself, she gestured for Amara to walk past her before she slammed her arm back across the door jamb.

“Just this one night. I mean it, Ralph.”

“Ah you’re a good egg, Liss.”

“I’m a fool who can’t bear to think of people on the street is what I am,” she muttered as Ralph followed Amara down the thin corridor and into the illuminated kitchen at the end of it.

True to her brother’s word, Liss was an impeccable host. Her home was beautifully kept. While Amara had only been shown the kitchen and the spare room to place her bag down, it was enough to tell her exactly how proud this woman was of her home. Amara immediately likedher.

The kitchen itself was small with a light, round wooden table that had been sanded back to the grain, and four chairs, sitting smack bang in the middle of it. The fridge was to the right of the table and the countertops made their way from the fridge around the room in an L shape with plenty of white cupboards above them, apart from a window above the sink countertop. It would mean Liss would have her back to the table if she was washing dishes but at least she probably had a lovely view of her back garden during the day. The blind above the window was white with blue waves decorating the edges, which matched the table placemats and coasters. All the dishes were drying neatly on the white plastic rack beside the sink and there was nothing on the countertops that was out of place. Even the eggshell-blue microwave, kettle, and toaster looked artfully placed.

“This is all I have I’m afraid,” Liss said as she placed two large bowls of heated-up beef stew and potato dumplings in front of Amara and Ralph, accompanied with cans of lager, identical to the ones they had been drinking on the train together.

“It was supposed to see me and the kids through till tomorrow. Guess I’ll have to go to the shops in the morning instead,” shemuttered.

“We’re sorry for putting you out,” Amara said, though Ralph had already scooped his spoon deep in the bowl and had his mouth full, not looking apologetic in theslightest.

“Ah nothing for you to apologise for, love.” Liss sent a daggered stare at her brother, who continued − willingly or not − to be oblivious. Amara squirmed in herseat.

“Perhaps I should leave you two to catch up?” she offered.

“No. Stay. Eat. I need to go make up the spare bed for you,” Lisssaid.

“I’ll sleep on the sofa, Liss. Give our guest the good bed.” Ralph grinned that lopsided grin of his and Amara settled on the impression that he was being deliberately obtuse.

Liss said nothing directly but muttered something under her breath about “our guest alright,” before heading out of the small kitchen, back into the hallway, and up the stairs on the right to make up the extra bed. Quietly, of course. She’d already told them − more specifically, a loud Ralph − to keep it down as all the little ones were asleep.

When Amara was sure she was out of earshot, she finally looked at her traincompanion.

“So, your sister didn’t know you werecoming.”

“Aye, I was coming to make amends.” At least now he had the decency to look sheepish.

“And you thought to use me as ... a bargaining chip?” Amara scrunched up hernose.

“Nah, not at all. I just, well, it’s always easier when there’s a buffer there, ya know? And yeah, I saw an opportunity. But I’m not sorry I took it. Can you really tell me youare?”

Amara went to argue then closed her mouth again. She couldn’t exactly disagree. Given how much the meal in London had cost her, and the train fare, being given a free meal and roof over her head for the first night in a new city had certainly been welcome, not least to her wad of cash tucked away upstairs with herbelongings.

“Still, I don’t like beingused.”

“Aye, I get that. I’m sorry, truly Iam.”

Amara said nothing to that, her focus on the food in front of her. She spooned broth into her mouth and restrained herself from sighing. She didn’t want Ralph to feel like her contentment had anything to do with him. Gratitude and annoyance battled inside of her for space. Annoyance clearly won out and set a scowl across herface.

“Some would call me an asshole for needing to ask for your forgiveness twice in such a short space of time,” Ralph said, noticing her expression and slightly slurring his words now. It had been a long day with a lot of lager.

“Some would,” Amaraagreed.

“I shouldn’t even ask. I’m a terrible human being,” he muttered.

Amara looked at him, but his head was now bent into his hands. She sighed. She didn’t want to be responsible for his mood. He clearly had enough demons clinging to his shoulders if he had problems with his sister and, clearly, with alcohol. She reached across and grabbed one of his hands.

“It’s ok ... I get it. Truly Ido.”

“I just wanted to see my lil’ sister again.” Ralph hiccupped.

“I know, and you’ve both been kind and generous to me. I won’t be one to hold a grudge.”

“Thanks.” Ralph hiccuppedagain.

They were finishing their meals as his sister walked back in.

“The bed’s ready for you whenever you are, hen.” Liss took a seat opposite them, her back to thewindow.

“On that note, I’ll leave you two to catch up.” Amara thanked her hosts graciously, and after fussing with Liss about who would clean the dishes, moved upstairs to the room where she’d placed her bags earlier.

It wasn’t until a few hours later, when Amara’s bladder protested, that she heard whispers from the landing.

“... you turned up here battered and bruised, hollering that you were going to break the door down! You scared the kids half to death! Of course I weren’t joking about you never coming backhere!”

“Ah the kids are fine, aren’tthey?”

“No thanks to you! What the hell were you thinking bringing …”

“Ah, psh! We heard much worse growing up. Stop yourmoaning.”

“Moaning? Moaning?! Look at you! You turned out just likeDa.”

“And look what it turned you into, you s-st-stuck up bitch.”

Amara gasped. There was a slur to the words but they were no less snide for it.

“First Ma then Mary, now you. Don’t know how to handle a real man, so you toss them aside ... innt thatright?”

“Don’t you do that. Don’t you dare. Not under my roof. I won’t have it, you hear me?” Liss hissed. “Don’t you project all your Mary crap onto me. I didn’t hurt ya. I didn’t abandon ya. I didn’t sleep with your best friend! I just asked ya not to show up here slaughtered, and now look at ya. I knew I shouldn’t have taken you in tonight, but where else are you going to go? You’ve burnt bridges with everyone in town. No one would have you. I only do it because you’re blood and if I turned you away, Ma would turn in hergrave.”

“I don’t have to stand here ’n listen to this b-bul-bullshit.”

“No that’s right, you go on and drink some more. Leave that poor lil’ lassie here. Go and get yourself shitfaced and don’t bother calling me when you end up in some coppers van ’cause you threatened the next guy who looked at youfunny.”

A burp, a brief pause, footsteps, and a slammed door.

“Goddamnit.”

Amara decided to go back to bed unnoticed.

When she awoke again, the stench of Scotch and stale lager invaded her nose to the point her eyes began to blink back tears. Rubbing the sleep from her eyes, she felt her hand brush against something before that something clasped at her wrist and pinned it above her head. Another hand slammed over her mouth as her eyes flewopen.

“Shh, shh ... I’m not here to hurt you,” Ralph crooned, releasing the hand over her mouth as he did so.

“Ralph, how did you get in? Why are you …”

“Shh,” he continued, stroking the back of his hand down the side of her cheek.

Amara found herself unable to do anything, her body wouldn’t move, her mind kept drawing a blank. Only her eyes raced back and forth over his, trying to figure out what his actions meant, what he was doing.

“You’re going to be just like her,” he said sadly, looking at her with forlorn eyes before curling his hands in her hair that had worked its way loose in the plait she’d put it in before bed.

“Ralph, what are you talkingabout?!”

“You’re going to leave me.”

“Ralph, you’re drunk. I—”

“I won’t let you leave me again, Ma-Mara-Mary. I won’t. I’ll give it to you like a real man. I’ll show ya ...”

Finally Amara’s brain kicked in and her legs lashed out. Too late. She realised he already had one leg between both of hers. He pinned her arms down, tugging off only as much of the duvet as he needed to, pushed her legs further apart, her wrists now both caught in a bruising grip as his mouth slammed over hers to muffle her scream, and his other hand began to touch her ... callously, cruelly. Then it wasn’t his hand.

It hurt.