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Over three weeks had passed since the incident with Ollie. I hadn’t seen him once. There was a sharp pain in my chest because of that. I didn’t expect him to visit me every day or anything, I mean, he was badly hurt. I understood that. Maybe I was overreacting, but I couldn't help it. It was just that Ollie hadn’t even called me within the past few weeks. It felt as though he’d completely forgotten about me.
I’d started calling him Ollie like I'd promised him. I’d even started thinking of him as Ollie now. It was strange what being attacked by some ginger crack head did to you. When my father was informing me on how Ollie would be sacked the second he had the chance, I couldn’t help but argue. I was the one that went to that mess of a place. If it wasn’t for him, I didn’t even want to think about what that kid could - no, would - have done to me. I literally had to fight until I felt like passing out to allow my father to let Ollie keep his job. All of that and he hadn’t even sent me a text.
There was something else on my mind though. A date. The fourteenth of December. The date of my wedding. As the words unravelled themselves from my father’s mouth, I had no idea what to think or how to feel. I wanted to marry Richard... I had to marry him. For once in my life, I needed to be mature and selfless. If marrying Richard was what it took, then so be it.
When my father first revealed the date of my wedding, I did nothing but argue with him. I despised the fact that I was doing so because since arriving home from the hospital, he'd been more than considerate. I thought it was simply because he felt guilty for loosing his temper with me, which bothered me slightly. Why couldn't he have been like that all of the time?
I was in the kitchen when my father told me about the wedding. My mother and him were sitting at the counter, both smiling like The Joker from Batman. It didn't take me long to predict the words that were soon to come out of my father's mouth.
"December...?" I stammered after my father had informed me on the date of my wedding.
He responded by nodding, the smile still on his ageing face. My mother mimicked the smile, going along with what my father said or did, like usual.
No matter how much I tried to justify my opinion on marrying so soon, my father didn't even try to listen. Joseph's eighteenth birthday is in January, we don't really have a choice, he'd argue. It's in your grandfather's will; we can't do anything about it. I knew he was right. My father was always right in his mind. I just had to bite my lip and digest what he told me.
Once my father had left the room, it was just my mother and I. I'd never been in a room with my mother and no one else before, not really. That probably explained why I began fidgeting as my eyes avoided my mother's face. She stood up from the counter and quietly made her way towards me.
"Do you want anything to eat, darling?" I could hear in her voice that my mother was just as uncomfortable as me.
I wasn't sure why, but all that I did then was look at her. I could see myself in my mother. I recognised her sky blue eyes, her loose brown curls, and her almost pixie like face. The woman behind those features is what I wish I knew.
I knew that my mother liked collecting glass ornaments, that she had a love for black heels, and I knew that she liked jazz music. That was about it. I was only aware of these things by what I'd seen, not by what she'd told me. I heard her listening to jazz music and I saw all of the ornaments in the house. I wasn't told a story about how a trip to some foreign country inspired her to collect those ornaments or how she felt like black heels made her feel beautiful.
The entire world spun around me, making me feel queasy. I was standing in the middle of the kitchen, trying my very hardest to block out any unwanted feelings. It was a lot easier said than done because all I could do was allow tears to fall down my cheeks like strained raindrops.
"Victoria?" I heard my mother say quietly.
Arms carefully wrapped around me. As my mother gently pressed my face into her shoulder, I felt something I'd never felt before. The smell of her sweet scented perfume surrounded me; the perfume I had constantly tried on as a child. I could feel her warm breath on my hair as her fingers drew a comforting path through my hair. For the first time ever, I felt like I had a real mother.
"I know how hard this is for you, darling," my mother whispered into my ear, "but you're the strongest and the most intelligent girl I've ever known. Youv'e just got to do what's right, okay?
She pulled me away, softly holding my face in front of hers so that I could do nothing but look into her eyes. My eyes. They were trying to tell me something, but what that something was, I didn't know. All that I knew was that I needed my mother right now more than I ever had before.
As the memory returned to my mind, I squinted my eyes, forcing them not to water. Right now, marriage seemed like the most barbaric thing ever, especially after what had happened when I went to Hackney. The thought of the wedding kind of helped though. I could overwrite the memories with wedding ideas. It took a bit of powerful thinking, but I always got there eventually.
As for Richard, well, he’d been amazing. I was extremely paranoid that he’d be angry with me, but he wasn’t. He was far from it. Whenever I woke up in the middle of the night, my entire body shaking from memories of what had happened, Richard never got angry at me for calling him. He was glad that I was talking about it, and not keeping all of it inside of me until I felt like screaming.
The memories would do nothing but repeat themselves in my dreams. Everything worked out the same, just like a movie stuck on replay. The boy - the one that hurt me- would grab me. I'd hear all of the shouting that was going on in the fight on the balcony. Ollie would save me, the only high point of the dream. Then it would all come crashing down again, just like how it played out weeks before. The only difference was the blank face. It was the boy that had grabbed me; he was nothing but a faceless image.
I'd wake up with tears in my eyes. My palms would be sweating and my head would be pulsing in the same speedy rhythm as my heart. That was when I would reach out for my phone.
"Can you stay on the line...?" I'd whisper to Richard once he'd stopped my body from shaking and my heart from racing. "Just until I fall asleep?"
That was exactly what he always did. The last thing I'd remember hearing before I fell asleep was Richard's warm voice, telling me that I was beautiful. I knew how pathetic it made me sound, but I wanted to know that someone was with me in the night, even if it was via a phone. It stopped the nightmares.
But then there were the other feelings. I was seventeen, going on eighteen. As much as I tried to force the thought out of my system, I wasn’t ready for a commitment like marriage. I shut my eyes for a short moment. Richard’s great, I thought slowly, do something selfless for once. That was all it took for me to push the negative feelings away. I’d obviously trained myself well.
The past two weeks had made me realise that everything about me was a front. I wasn’t some little rich chick who knew everything and stood up to everyone confidently. That was just a shell. I was paranoid, nervous, and I was blatantly terrified of my father. How sad was that? I was afraid of my own father. Afraid of what he thought of me, how he’d feel about me if I let him down.
It was almost funny. I'd often watched a movie that involved someone's look on life change entirely, but it seemed so unrealistic. I'd always assumed that things like that didn't happen in real life. I'd changed my mind. I couldn't explain it... I felt as though I was someone else. It was as if the first seventeen years of my life, I'd simply been watching over everything, not living it. Now was the time to actually live as me, Victoria Kingston.
Forcing every single thought out of my head until my mind was blank, I sat up on the sofa and leaned my head back. Ever since the stabbing, my head had been spinning and questioning every move I made. It cut my breath short and made my mouth dry. I wanted things to be like they were before.
I turned to look outside the window and watched as the crystal raindrops ran down the glass, each one racing the one beside it. I didn’t know why, but the water on the window enticed me. Each rain drop seemed to take a different path. Some of them even split in half, almost as though they had no choice but to be separated. They were destined to be so close, but physically, they were further away than ever.
What was I doing? Was I going mental or something? Jesus... I needed to get out more. I laughed at myself, standing up and gently rubbing my forehead. Forget about the blooming rain, I smiled weakly to, otherwise, you’ll start rocking back and forth in the corner singing nursery rhymes soon. I was pulling my hair out of my face when I heard a sudden knock on the front door.
I froze. Who was at the door? Why had they knocked so loudly? Were they angry? What if they were? What if it was the police again? Oh God... Quietly opening my living room door, I crept into the main hallway, slowly making my way towards where the entrance of my house was.
I hadn’t been much help to the police at all. It made me feel so useless. After what that boy did to me, you’d think his face would be imbedded in my mind, haunting me every time I shut my eyes. But it wasn’t. I couldn’t even remember what he looked like. All I could remember was a flare of red hair. It was as though I’d removed it from my memories and locked it away, never to be found again.
Another three loud bangs echoed in my ears. I jumped. Groaning in annoyance, I realised how childish I was being. I doubted there would be a masked murderer with a chainsaw outside waiting for me, somehow.
Inhaling two lungs full of air, I speed walked to the front door. Resisting every urge to hesitate, I reached out and shot the handle down, pulling the door towards me.
“What do you want?” I hissed the word so aggressively, it even made me jump.
“Whoa... Anger issues..."
Actually looking in front of me for the first time, I exhaled the breath that had been in my lungs for what felt like an hour.
From chewing on them so often, my dented lips curled upwards as I practically attached myself around Ollie, delving my head into his chest like I’d done three long weeks ago.
“No, seriously, what ‘ave you taken, Tori?” Ollie sounded genuinely worried, “Have you developed bi-polar disorder or somethin’?”
There was a small part of me - the old part of me - that wanted to smack him in the face right there. The other part of me simply laughed.
I released him from my grasp, still smiling. Standing in the doorway, Ollie stared at me, clearly mystified. His entire face was begging for some kind of explanation. Either that, or he genuinely thought I was high.
“No, I haven’t,” I replied, taking hold of his arm as I pulled him into the house, not giving him an opportunity to protest, “I’ve just... I don’t know. I guess I’ve turned over a new leaf.”
Ollie kept his eyes on me, looking me up and down. He was standing a good couple of yards away from me as he turned his head to the side subtly. Scratching his blonde hair, a one sided grin grew on his face.
“And I thought I was a freak...”
*****
I felt my face redden as Ollie stared at me, wide eyed. How was I supposed to know what a ‘chippy’ was? It hardly sounded normal to me.
“Freakin’ hell... You seriously ain’t ever been to a Fish and Chip shop...?” Ollie asked me, still with an astounded expression plastered on his face.
Why didn’t he say that in the first place! I knew what a blooming Fish and Chip shop was! Id’ seen them plenty of times on the television. There was one on Coronation Street. Thinking about it, I hadn’t been to one myself, and I didn’t really want to. They looked dirty...
We’d gotten into the strange discussion of fish and chips after running out of everything else to say. Neither Ollie or me had even dared to mention what happened last time we were together. It was a taboo subject for both of us. What was I supposed to say though? How are you feeling? I hadn’t even been able to ask him that.
Ollie’d come here today because my father needed to speak to him about something, most likely his job. He’d done that by now though, so I had no idea why he was still here, talking to me.
“Hello...? Bi-polar girl?” Ollie whistled as he waved his hand in front of my face. “Fancy coming back to life any time soon?”
As what he said processed in my mind, I shot him an angry glare. I preferred it when he called me Tori, and that was saying something. Noticing the look I gave him, Ollie held his hands up apologetically. “Sorry!”
“No, I’ve never in my life been to a Fish and Chip shop,” I finally answered his question.
Crossing my arms, I leaned back onto the sofa. My eyes flickered in Ollie’s direction to see him looking even more flabbergasted than when I’d hugged him earlier.
I couldn’t blame him for the look he gave me though. It had even freaked me out. I may not have seen him in weeks, but I didn’t know why I’d acted so strangely by practically attaching myself to him. I mean, it was him...
While I was waiting for some kind of response, I noticed the surprised look on Ollie’s being replaced by more of an unrecognisable one. He appeared to be thinking, something that I doubted he did often. After a silent minute or so, his half grin appeared on his face again.
“I’ll show you then,” he shrugged, standing up.
“Huh?” I furrowed my eyebrows.
Ollie reached into the pocket of his jeans and brought out a pile of keys and keyrings and began rattling them. “I’m in the mood for some fish and chips, so why not? You ain’t ever tried ‘em, which is really weird, by the way, so think of it as a new experience.”
I thought he was joking at first but it didn’t take me long to realise that his casual expression meant that he was dead serious.
Smiling at me, Ollie twirled the keys around his index finger as he headed for the living room door. Jumping up quickly, I grabbed his arm.
“Hold on!” I stammered, “I can’t just leave! What if I’m not allowed to? Why would I need to leave my house just to go to some run down shop anyway? Besides, I can’t get anyone to drive us there because my dad wouldn’t let me do so for something so silly.”
“Hey, there’s nothing silly about a Chippy, they’re epic. Just tell your old man that you went out to see Richard or something, if you’re that bothered. And hey, what do you think these are for?” Ollie waved his keys in front of my face.
“You can drive?” I asked.
“I am almost nineteen, Tori...” he winked at me. “Coming then?”
Narrowing my eyes at him, I smiled sarcastically. I managed to hide the fact that I felt like an idiot from Ollie pretty well. For some bizarre reason, I assumed that he came to work on the bus.
Ollie waited impatiently by the door while I looked at him, biting my lip. I couldn’t go, could I? I mean, it was so... unlike me. Lying to my father would be easy; any mention of Richard made him happy. It would certainly be interesting if Fish and Chip shops were like the ones on the television.
A small grin spread across my face. Why not? What did I have to lose? I nodded eagerly as Ollie opened the living room door. Grabbing a pair of ballet style shoes from the bottom of my stairs, I shoved them onto my feet and put on my waterproof black jacket.
“Well, there’s a first,” Ollie laughed as we wondered up my long driveway.
“What?”
Without looking at me, he shook his head slightly and chuckled to himself. He was walking way too fast for my liking, I almost had to jog to keep up with him.
“You look somewhat human,” his curved lips were telling me that he was resisting to laugh, “I didn’t know that you owned normal clothes.”
The urge to hit him was really getting strong now. One more comment like that and I’d change my mind about him keeping his job.
After passing a couple of my family’s long, black cars, Ollie stopped and pulled his keys back out of his pocket. I looked up to see a small, navy Vauxhall Corsa car parked awkwardly on the small stones that covered the front grounds of my house. It wasn’t even the new version of the car either. It was the old version. The very old version. Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea...
Turning the key in the lock on the driver’s side, Ollie signalled for me to get into the passenger’s seat. The fact that he had to actually physically unlock the car showed how old it really was. Dragging my feet along the crunching stones, I hesitantly opened the car door closest to me. I stepped into it, immediately regretting to ever agreeing with this.
Ollie clearly wasn’t a big fan of keeping things tidy. On the floor where I rested my feet, there must have been at least fourteen packets of opened chewing gum. There were random bits of paper, a sandwich box with the contents of a half eaten sandwich, and what looked like a decapitated Action Man. That wasn’t worrying at all...
“ I know you’re used to champagne, caviar and crap like tha’ in cars,” Ollie said, starting the car, “but this one has cup holders, so it’s all good. Oh, and sorry it’s a bit... messy. I haven’t had time to clean it properly. You like sandwiches though, right?”
I tried to kick a piece of paper off my foot as the small car revved. I jumped at the loud grinding noise that seemed to come from the exhaust of it.
Ollie must have noticed the terrified expression I could feel that was on my face because when he started reversing, he looked at me and grinned.
“Don’t worry, it only took me nine goes to pass my driving test.”
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