‘Snap’
My heart thumped in my chest, like a caged beast desperate to escape. Her eyes
flickered, teasing me the way a feather will taunt a kitten. ‘Please be okay,
please be okay.’ I chanted the mantra under my breath, over and over, every
bone in my body aching with worry as I watched the damaged branch splinter and
bend, groaning under its own weight.
Seconds dragged by, each one seeming to last an age. I took another breath in
and struggled once more to free my trapped legs. Pain raged through my limbs
like a wildfire, starting in my spine and rushing down to my fingers and toes.
I watched her, helpless and alone; there was nowhere to turn. Gasping, I had to
keep my eyes open as the huge branch swung alarmingly towards the car. I tried
to distract myself by going over the day’s events in my head; counting,
listing, putting the chaos in order.
Groaning, Rob rolled over in his bed, reached out his tanned, muscular arms and
embraced his petite, yet very loud fiancée Tina. Sleep was still upon him and
he kissed her plush lips softly with his eyes still closed.
‘Eww, baby! Don’t do that- you have morning breath.’ She whined in a vague,
faux-American accent.
‘What?’ He grunted, one hand scratching his left buttock, the other gently
massaging her delicate shoulders.
‘You’re going to be late for work.’ Her tone was icy, unappreciative, and most
of all; controlling.
‘Chill out babe,’ Rob wasn’t in the mood for her dramatics this morning, his
head still ached from last night’s drinks with the lads, and he had a long way
to drive Mrs McDevon today. She was off on her fourth cruise of the year; ‘only
the Med. this time, times are getting tighter for us all, you know.’ She was
flying from Heathrow, over 200 miles from her large, detached town house in
Harrogate, North Yorkshire. She was to be picked up at 7:30 on the dot, no
nonsense.
Elizabeth McDevon was one of Rob’s most regular customers, and they often joked
that he might as well be her chauffer. Although as she pointed out; he’d never
be able to afford a house in the town. She was a proper woman; a retired
governess and a war-widow. ‘I’ve learned how to look after myself so I don’t
need any of your new-fangled advice, thank you.’ Despite being an admirable
eighty nine years of age, she still took great pleasure in spending her
father’s inheritance on lavish holidays to exotic places. It wasn’t any of
Rob’s business of course, but in his own private musings, he suspected that Mrs
McDevon was trying to escape from something.
Swinging his legs over the
edge of the bed, Rob half-heartedly made approving gestures towards Tina’s
outfit for the day; a tight, fuchsia-pink two piece suit complete with flamboyant
frilled blouse and heels Rob thought even giraffe’s would struggle to walk in.
Yawning deeply, he brushed off the death stare Tina was giving him and shuffled
into the bathroom in his tartan carpet slippers.
*
A warm sensation soaked through my lap; I didn’t dare
look down, but a faint odour of urine confirmed my fears. Locking my eyes onto
her limp body, I knew I had to stay awake. As I recalled what I could of the
accident; questions flooded my mind. What was she doing, out alone at this
hour? Why had there been no lights on her rusting pushbike? She couldn’t be
much older than fourteen, could she? I shouted once more, ‘Help! Help! Is
anybody out there? Help me!’ Deathly silence. No reply from the cold, dark
trees or the winding, desolate road. ‘It must be below freezing,’ I thought
with increasing concern. I felt so powerless; I just wanted her to be okay.
‘You have to stay awake,’ I told myself angrily, ‘you have to keep yelling for
help.’ Glaring at my useless mobile phone, rage welled up inside me and I
struggled once more to free myself from the wreck. The agony took my breath
away, and I decided it was best to sit still and keep shouting.
*
Lilly woke early; after all
it was the first day. She’d slept restlessly the previous night, and the ‘worry
worms,’ as her mother had called them, invaded her dreams. Slipping out of her
Egyptian cotton sheets, she pulled on a well-worn, lavender dressing gown over
her paisley pyjamas. Loosening her wild flaxen mane from its plait, she tiptoed
into the bathroom and splashed some cold water on her face. It didn’t go the
way it went in the television adverts and she ended up dripping all over the
cork floor tiles. With a heavy sigh, she glanced up at her reflection in the small
mirror hanging above the sink. She’d never been happy with how she looked; her
face seemed too narrow, her eyes too big, her mouth too wide and as for the
freckles- yuck! Her hair never did what she wanted it to; it seemed to have a
life of its own. She wondered how long she’d be at this school, whether they’d
been studying the same material as the last one, or maybe the one before. Would
she make friends? Would they stay in touch when she inevitably moved on?
Probably not- she was always forgotten eventually.
© Alice Daley 2013
