Witch(20)

“You’re not like any woman I’ve been with before,” he said, glancing sideways at me, his chest rising and falling as he still fought to catch his breath. “You’re kinda complex.”

“How come?” I asked back.

“You have some crazy issues.”

“You think?” I said, getting up. I pulled my sweater back over my head, and put on my panties, which were lying next to my discarded jeans on the floor. I left the room.

“Where are you going?” he called after me.

“To the bathroom,” I whispered, closing the door behind me before he had a chance to see the tears which were spilling down my face.





Chapter Ten



I tried to muffle my sobs by placing a towel against my face. My shoulders shook as I sat on the toilet and cried. Was there no part of my life, other than what I did in bed, which I was in control of? I kept messing up and in my heart I knew that I’d just messed up again by having sex with Michael – however good it had been.

My father had warned me to lay low – use the time by myself to think things through – not to complicate the situation further. But with an hour or so of him leaving, I’d gone and had sex with the one person who knew that the death of those poor people hadn’t been a simple accident. It had happened because I was trying to run from a situation I should’ve never been in while on duty. I’d been speeding and not concentrating on the road. I’d been looking for chewing gum to try and mask the fact I’d been drinking. Why couldn’t I just listen to my father?

But maybe that was the point? Perhaps I was so sick and tired of listening to him – trying to please him and make him happy, that I seized every opportunity that came along to disappoint him. Why did he have to be so controlling – why couldn’t he let me make my own mistakes? But he was a good man, wasn’t he? After all, wasn’t he just looking out for me? What would I have done without him yesterday? But I knew in my heart why I had gone back to the farm while on duty, why I’d had sex with Michael just moments ago. Because it was something I could chose or chose not to do. Maybe Michael was right? Perhaps I was crazy and had issues.

Michael must have heard me sobbing, because there was a gentle knock at the bathroom door. “Hey, Sydney, are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” I lied, sniffing back my tears behind the towel.

“Look, I didn’t mean to upset you,” he said.

“You didn’t upset me.”

“Why are you crying then?” he pushed gently.

Wiping the tears away with the towel, I went to the door and opened it. Michael had put on his jeans. As I went to brush past him, he took me in his arms. “I didn’t mean to hurt you when I said I thought you had issues,” he said, looking down into my bloodshot eyes.

“It wasn’t that which upset me,” I said, slipping from his arms and going to the living room. I stood by the window and looked out onto the empty street and the sea in the distance.

“What is it, then?” he asked, standing behind me, but keeping a respectful distance.

“Everything, I guess,” I whispered. “I killed four people yesterday.”

“That was an accident,” he said.

“Was it?”

“What do you mean by that?” he asked.

“Nothing,” I quickly said. Turning to face him, I added, “Have you told anyone what happened between us yesterday?”

No,” he said right back. “Who would I tell?”

“Your father?”

“Hey, dad, while you were out today, me and that pretty-looking cop drank some of your whiskey and then got it on across your kitchen table. I don’t think so, do you?” he said, cocking his eyebrow at me. “Anyway, that wasn’t what caused the accident.”

“I killed them,” I whispered.

“That cart and horse was a menace. The whole family were,” Michael said.

“Did you know them then?” I asked.

“No, not really,” Michael said, turning away, picking up his shirt from the floor and putting it on. “The old guy was as crazy as a loon. He talked kinda strange.”

I wanted to tell Michael how the old man had called me a witch, but Woody had said we all needed to be singing from the same hymn sheet, so I pushed the thought away, knowing I shouldn’t discuss what happened out on the road. I just wanted to satisfy myself that Michael would keep our secret.

“I had a nightmare about that old man last night,” I whispered, turning to look out of the window again. The sea was glistening beneath the pale afternoon sun. “I dreamt about all of them.”

“What happened is going to play on your mind for a while,” he said.