Getaway

Chapter 16

I leant against the metal bar that ran across the balcony as Fletcher took a seat nearby. Like every other night we had been in Cape Verde, the sky was clear and I stared up, for the third time in Fletcher’s presence, and wondered what it would be like to go up there.

“You okay?” Fletcher asked after I had been silent for a few minutes

“Fine,” I paused for a moment before continuing, “have you ever had a secret that you’re scared to tell people.”

“You mean when you’ve done something bad and you don’t want to admit you’ve done something wrong?” Fletcher replied sounding consumed.

“Kind of, but it’s more like you know they’re going to blame you, even though you don’t think it’s not your fault, even though you tried your best to make sure that it wouldn’t happen.”

“I guess I don’t really know what you’re on about,” Fletcher said, “I’ve never felt like that.”

“I have,” I admitted.

I turned silent once again and took a seat opposite Fletcher folding my knees underneath me so that I was almost curled up.

“You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to,” he told me, his voice kind.

“I should be talking about it though, nobody else seems to be,” I said bitterly, “it’s about time we admitted it to someone.”

“Admitted what?”

Fletcher’s tone – though concerned – was also scared. I could only imagine what drastic images were flowing through his mind.

“Have you ever wondered where my mum is? Why she’s not around?”

“I’m not going to say I haven’t,” Fletcher admitted, “but hey, it is none of my business. Right?”

“I guess not,” I said, “but hey, that doesn’t stop you from wanting to know. It’s probably the only reason that you still hang out with me. You want to know why the weird girl has no mother.”

My voice was verging on hysterics and I could feel tears begging to brim in the corners of my eyes. I wiped them away furiously before hitting the plastic table with my fist.

“Everybody wants to know where mum is, everybody wants to know who to blame.”

“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to,” Fletcher repeated.

“You want me to though,” I told him, “I can tell. You’re curious about it and I can’t say I blame you.”

“If you don’t want to, you don’t have to.”

“Is that your life motto or something,” I said harshly.

The night had quickly taken a turn for the worst. It was not a split second that turned me into this angry, crying mess it had built up over time. Dad refused to talk about it, Kyle didn’t really understand and not talking about it apparently hadn’t helped the situation or taught me how to deal with it better.

I stood up and paced along the balcony furiously, arms crossed over my chest. Fletcher didn’t say anything; he just stood up and wrapped his arms around me, tugging me closer. I resisted for a few moments before letting him pull me even tighter, my head resting on his shoulder.

“It’s okay Nell,” he whispered in my ear.

“It’s not,” I replied quietly, “but maybe that’s okay. Not everything is meant to be perfect after all. I just never realised it was meant to be this screwed up.”