Read Online Never Alone by Elizabeth Haynes - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Elizabeth Haynes
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She has a house, and debts, and, while she doesn’t need to worry about the children any longer, it’s a hard habit to break, worrying.
Aiden gives her a glimpse of the Sarah That Used To Be. Back then, at university, she had a series of half-relationships, friends who came with benefits, friends who were defined by the few things she had in common with them – Cath from her course, Josie from the Art Soc, Leanne and Davy who drank in the Star on Thursdays; and none of that mattered because everyone knew that was how it was; everyone did the same thing. She never gave herself long enough to form any sort of real attachment, and at the same time there was an odd sort of hollowness about it all that seemed like an unconnected thing, a side-effect of being young. But the hollowness swelled like an injury, grew into disgust at herself, and then into a fear, a dull panic that her whole life was going to be defined by a series of failures and false starts, and that, whatever she was going to face, she was going to have to do it on her own.
And then Jim came along, and suddenly it all made sense. She didn’t even love him, then. He said to her that he would promise to be there for her forever, and it was the permanence that attracted her. The idea that, whatever lay ahead, she would have Jim.
Now he’s gone, and all he’s left for her is the house, the debts, and his ex-best friend.
As soon as the sun goes down behind the peaks she turns back, but, even so, it is almost completely dark by the time she heads back down through the field. She wishes she had left some lights on.
‘Tess!’ she calls. The dog is nowhere to be seen. ‘Tess!’
Basil sits in the doorway, tongue lolling. It’s not often that Tess is the one being shouted at, and it looks as if he’s enjoying it.
Sarah is about to go back up the hill to look when she sees a flash of pale fur and the dog shoots down the hill towards her. Her tail is between her legs. Sarah checks her over for injuries; perhaps she has got caught somewhere. She runs her hand down the dog’s back. Tess is trembling.
‘What is it, girl? Where did you go?’
Tess gives a barely audible whine.
Sarah looks up towards the hill, which looms up as a dark shape against the lighter black of the evening sky.
‘Come on, both of you. Inside.’
She should go and look, but there is something about the darkness, something about Tess’s whine and the tremble in her body, that makes Sarah want to be inside, with the door shut behind her.
Sarah has just come back into the kitchen when she hears a noise outside. The dogs hear it too; both of them go to the front door, barking. Basil is wagging his tail.
She opens the door, expecting to see Aiden, but no one is there. Nevertheless Basil and Tess both rush out into the yard and disappear into the shadows. The security light, attached to the side of the workshop, comes on. Sarah thinks it might be a fox, although they do not often appear this far out of the village.
‘Hello?’ she calls. Just to make sure.
Then she can hear a voice and a man steps out of the shadows near the side of the house, both dogs scampering around him. Tess leaves him and comes back to Sarah, runs into the house.
It’s Will.
‘Hi!’ he calls cheerfully.
‘Hello, Will,’ Sarah says. ‘What are you doing here?’
‘Well,’ he says, finally pushing Basil out of the way and reaching the door, ‘I could say I was passing, but that would be… you know… a bit of a fib.’
‘Come in,’ she says, because she can’t leave him outside on the doorstep, can she?
He is wearing a thin hoodie, and has his guitar slung over his back, along with a rucksack. As he removes the guitar case and then the bag, she gets a sense of the weight of it from the way his arm strains, placing it gently on the floor. Basil sniffs at it hopefully and wags his tail. ‘Nothing in there for you, matey,’ Will says, rubbing the top of the dog’s head. ‘Sorry, old
Aiden gives her a glimpse of the Sarah That Used To Be. Back then, at university, she had a series of half-relationships, friends who came with benefits, friends who were defined by the few things she had in common with them – Cath from her course, Josie from the Art Soc, Leanne and Davy who drank in the Star on Thursdays; and none of that mattered because everyone knew that was how it was; everyone did the same thing. She never gave herself long enough to form any sort of real attachment, and at the same time there was an odd sort of hollowness about it all that seemed like an unconnected thing, a side-effect of being young. But the hollowness swelled like an injury, grew into disgust at herself, and then into a fear, a dull panic that her whole life was going to be defined by a series of failures and false starts, and that, whatever she was going to face, she was going to have to do it on her own.
And then Jim came along, and suddenly it all made sense. She didn’t even love him, then. He said to her that he would promise to be there for her forever, and it was the permanence that attracted her. The idea that, whatever lay ahead, she would have Jim.
Now he’s gone, and all he’s left for her is the house, the debts, and his ex-best friend.
As soon as the sun goes down behind the peaks she turns back, but, even so, it is almost completely dark by the time she heads back down through the field. She wishes she had left some lights on.
‘Tess!’ she calls. The dog is nowhere to be seen. ‘Tess!’
Basil sits in the doorway, tongue lolling. It’s not often that Tess is the one being shouted at, and it looks as if he’s enjoying it.
Sarah is about to go back up the hill to look when she sees a flash of pale fur and the dog shoots down the hill towards her. Her tail is between her legs. Sarah checks her over for injuries; perhaps she has got caught somewhere. She runs her hand down the dog’s back. Tess is trembling.
‘What is it, girl? Where did you go?’
Tess gives a barely audible whine.
Sarah looks up towards the hill, which looms up as a dark shape against the lighter black of the evening sky.
‘Come on, both of you. Inside.’
She should go and look, but there is something about the darkness, something about Tess’s whine and the tremble in her body, that makes Sarah want to be inside, with the door shut behind her.
Sarah has just come back into the kitchen when she hears a noise outside. The dogs hear it too; both of them go to the front door, barking. Basil is wagging his tail.
She opens the door, expecting to see Aiden, but no one is there. Nevertheless Basil and Tess both rush out into the yard and disappear into the shadows. The security light, attached to the side of the workshop, comes on. Sarah thinks it might be a fox, although they do not often appear this far out of the village.
‘Hello?’ she calls. Just to make sure.
Then she can hear a voice and a man steps out of the shadows near the side of the house, both dogs scampering around him. Tess leaves him and comes back to Sarah, runs into the house.
It’s Will.
‘Hi!’ he calls cheerfully.
‘Hello, Will,’ Sarah says. ‘What are you doing here?’
‘Well,’ he says, finally pushing Basil out of the way and reaching the door, ‘I could say I was passing, but that would be… you know… a bit of a fib.’
‘Come in,’ she says, because she can’t leave him outside on the doorstep, can she?
He is wearing a thin hoodie, and has his guitar slung over his back, along with a rucksack. As he removes the guitar case and then the bag, she gets a sense of the weight of it from the way his arm strains, placing it gently on the floor. Basil sniffs at it hopefully and wags his tail. ‘Nothing in there for you, matey,’ Will says, rubbing the top of the dog’s head. ‘Sorry, old
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