Even Angels Fall (19 page)

A drunken night at the pub is exactly what Abbey needed. It is so easy to shut everything else away and completely switch off when she is with Alex and the others. There were of course endless comments and the odd joke thrown in her direction - and after Tom accidentally spilt his pint over her he spent the rest of the evening cowering dramatically every time she approached him - but a bit of banter was always to be expected.

Abbey had been enjoying herself so much that time has passed far too quickly and the landlord is soon rounding everybody up, collecting glasses and wiping down tables in a subtle attempt to get people out of the door. As much as she wants to stay here, laughing and joking with her friends while wrapped up in Alex’s arms, she knows that it is time to face the music. She hopes that her family will be in bed seen as it is gone midnight, but deep down she knows that scenario is extremely unlikely. There is no way she can avoid this, she just has to get it over and done with.

As Abbey climbs out of the taxi at the bottom of her drive she wonders whether she assumed wrong, as the entire house is in complete darkness. She creeps up to the front door and carefully turns the key in the lock, slipping inside as quietly as possible, while taking off her boots and placing them at the foot of the stairs. There is nothing but silence as she tiptoes through the pitch black hallway and into the kitchen, reaching for a glass and filling it with water. She gulps it down; quenching her thirst. Drinking vodka always seems to make her dehydrated. She carefully places the glass by the sink and gets ready to sneak upstairs when a voice in the dark suddenly startles her, making her jump so badly she almost screams out loud.

“You’re late…” Janet is sat in the far corner of the room at the head of the dining table with a half empty bottle of whiskey in front of her. She stares at the glass in her hand, swilling the last drop round and round before downing it in one mouthful. Abbey holds her hands to her chest, waiting for her breathing to return to normal.

“Shit… you scared me…” Janet tops up her glass and takes another large sip as Abbey assesses her closely, “You’re drunk…” It isn’t a question. Abbey has seen her mum in this state many times before, although admittedly not for a while. Janet looks up at Abbey and unexpectedly bursts out laughing, shaking her head and blinking rapidly, trying to get her eyes to focus.

“Very perceptive darling…” She slurs.

Abbey hates seeing her mum like this. It brings back too many painful memories of how she was when Ryan first died, drinking herself into oblivion every night before she completely lost her mind and was committed. It had been her way of coping when things got too difficult, a way to shut out the world and avoid reality. Abbey feels a wave of guilt, knowing that her behaviour has clearly pushed Janet to the brink again but she quickly dispels it. She is a grown woman, capable of making her own decisions. Abbey hasn’t forced her to pick up that bottle, not physically at least.

“I’m going to bed…” She sighs, wearily.

“No. We need to talk…”

“I’m not wasting my time trying to have a conversation with you when you’re like this…”

“We need to talk. So we are going to talk…” Janet speaks firmly through gritted teeth, as she tops up her glass again.

“I think you’ve had enough…” Abbey snaps.

“Oh you’re right about that. I have had enough; I have most definitely had enough…” Janet’s eyes are red raw and she runs her hands through her hair before holding her arms out to the side in exasperation, “I mean what the hell is going on Abbey. You’re leaving the house at all hours, fighting, getting kicked out of school… where the hell has my daughter gone?!”

“Look, I’m trying OK?”

“Oh really?” Janet gasps, “You’re trying? Because it seems to me like you aren’t trying at all. It seems to me that you don’t care about anyone or anything but yourself…”

“God… you just don’t get it do you?” Abbey’s whispered voice becomes much louder as she tries to fight back her anger without success.

“Oh here we go… you know what, why don’t you explain it to me Abbey? Why don’t you tell me what it is I’m NOT getting?” Janet leans across the table, waving her glass of whiskey around while gesturing dramatically.

“You don’t see what’s right in front of you, do you…?”

“Oh I should have known it would be my fault…”

“Of course it’s your fault Mum, it’s never Abbey’s fault is it?” Both Janet and Abbey turn in unison towards the doorway where Peter has appeared. He is wearing a t-shirt and joggers and looks very tired, as if he has just woken up. He rubs his face with his hands and folds his arms across his chest, glaring at Abbey.

“Go back upstairs Peter this is between me and your sister…” Peter ignores Janet’s request and Abbey starts to laugh cynically, throwing her head back while rolling her eyes at the ceiling.

“No it’s OK let him stay, I mean you need more people to gang up on me don’t you? Why don’t we give Anna a call, get her involved too…? Because it’s all my fault isn’t it? It’s all down to me and what a complete and utter failure I am…”

“Oh for god sake…” Peter scoffs.

“Why are you doing this? Why are you behaving so selfishly?”

“
I’m
being selfish?!” Abbey gasps, smarting at her mother’s accusation, and Janet stands up, leaning on the table to steady herself.

“Just tell me… tell me why the hell you are acting this way?!”

“BECAUSE I FEEL LIKE I CAN’T BREATHE!” Abbey finally snaps, shouting at the top of her lungs, so angry that she can no longer hold back her pain or keep her frustrations at bay, “I feel like I’m suffocating living in this house…”

Usually Janet would try to calm the situation down, or at least respond in a quieter, muted voice while panicking about what the neighbours must think, but she is too drunk and too involved in the argument to care - and she shouts back, just as loud.

“Everyone is suffering Abbey… everyone in this family feels the way you do but nobody else is acting out because it is irresponsible. I mean what gives you the right to behave this way? As if you’re suffering is worse…”

“It is worse…” Abbey yells in exasperation as her tears spill down her cheeks and she quickly wipes them away.

“Oh you think so do you?!” Janet asks, incredulous, “How the hell do you think I feel every day when I wake up? I lost a son for god sake…”

“AND HE WAS MY BROTHER…” Abbey screams - and in one swift movement she picks up the glass from the kitchen unit and throws it at the wall behind Janet. It smashes into pieces and scatters the room with tiny fragments of glass, causing both Peter and Janet to shield themselves, “He was my twin brother, he was everything to me. He was with me every single day of my life and now he’s gone and I can’t do this anymore…” An empty sob breaks out from Abbey’s chest and she places her hand over her mouth, trying desperately to keep from collapsing.

“Abbey…” Peter gasps, instinctively reaching out as he steps towards her but she backs away, holding up her hand to stop him.

“Don’t. Don’t you dare, it’s too late for that.” She snaps, with a distinct warning in her voice.

“Abbey please…” He begs, looking suddenly frightened.

“I didn’t just lose Ryan the day he died; I lost all of you…” She states, as her voice breaks again. The truth is finally coming out. The flood gates are wide open and there is no way Abbey can prevent the words from flowing, even if she wanted to.

“What are you talking about…?”

“I told you…! I told you before but you still wouldn’t listen!”

“Told me what?” Peters asks, confused, and Abbey takes a long, deep breath, speaking as calmly as she can manage, but her hands are still shaking wildly after her aggressive outburst.

“I remind you too much of him… so you shut me out….” There is a brief pause as both Peter and Janet display a series of emotion on their faces. First shock, horror, guilt and then a slow and painful realisation.

“That isn’t true.” Janet whispers, unconvincingly.

“You’re lying…”

“We tried… we tried to…”

“No just STOP… STOP LYING TO ME…” Abbey screams and neither Peter nor Janet react this time. There is no come back remark or argument, no eye rolling. Both of them simply stare at Abbey as she speaks, “He was my twin. We were so much alike and I know that being around me only reminds you of Ryan and what you lost. It’s too hard for you… so you shut me out. You pushed me away and put up a wall and you did it because it made things easier, for you. That’s the truth…”

“Oh god Abbey… I didn’t… we didn’t mean…” Janet struggles to find the right words as Peter stands quietly with tears now falling, and Abbey blinks once, composing herself as her expression becomes eerily blank and she looks her mum square in the eyes.

“Now ask yourself who’s selfish…”

Janet slumps back into her chair as Abbey pushes past a motionless Peter and races up the stairs. No longer able to hold herself together, she completely falls apart, sobbing uncontrollably as she bursts into her bedroom. Without pausing to think she grabs her travel bag from the top of her wardrobe and frantically throws in all the clothes she can get her hands on, struggling with the zip as she grabs her phone with her free hand and dials for a taxi.

Due to the nature of his profession and his typical ‘office hours’, Alex rarely sleeps. His internal body clock is so messed up from working late nights into early mornings that even when he isn’t dealing, he usually stays awake until dawn, unable to completely unwind.

It is almost 1:30am. Tom is fast asleep, snoring loudly, and Alex is on the verge of going to bed in the vain hope of getting a few hours rest when he is startled by a loud banging on the front door.

Ever cautious, he picks up the baseball bat that is leaning against the side of his wardrobe and creeps carefully into the kitchen. He waits, listening in the dark, and after a few seconds he hears the banging again, much more frenzied than before. Very slowly, he turns the key and releases the latch, raising the bat above his head as he whips the door open. Abbey is standing in the doorway, her face stained with tears, and Alex drops his guard instantly, pulling her inside by the hand.

“I’m sorry… I didn’t know where else to go…” She sobs, her voice muffled against Alex’s shoulder as he hugs her tightly. Just being there, in his embrace, makes her feel instantly better.

“What happened?” Alex shuts the door and guides her over to the table, pulling out a chair and taking her bag from her shoulder as he kneels down in front of her.

“Nothing more than I expected really. It was worse this time though, the argument… I just had to get out of there…”

“You look exhausted…” Alex holds Abbey’s face gently between his hands and she smiles half-heartedly. She is so glad to be with him, but she cringes at how much of a mess she must look right now. He doesn’t seem to mind.

“Can I please stay here tonight?” She asks timidly.

“Of course you can, you can stay as long as you like… come on…”

Abbey drags her feet as she follows Alex into his room, and as he throws back the duvet she crawls into bed. The last time she was in here she had been on cloud nine. What a difference, compared to how she feels now. Only one thing is the same, and that is how her pulse quickens every time Alex looks at her or touches her, no matter how briefly. She wants so much to lay awake and talk to him - or just curl up in his arms and savour the moment - but she is so completely drained both physically and emotionally, that she falls into a deep sleep as soon as her head touches the pillow.

Abbey’s dreams are vivid, and although it is late morning by the time she wakes, she doesn’t feel at all rested. As she blinks hard her vision comes into focus, and it takes her a moment to realise where she is. Her heart skips a beat and she feels a rush of excitement as she registers the familiar walls of Alex’s bedroom. Her excitement doesn’t last long though, as the events of the previous day come rushing back to the forefront of her mind and she is pulled under by a deep depression.

She feels so hurt, alone and angry… but more than anything, she feels betrayed. She knew why her family had been acting so strangely towards her. It was only a few months after Ryan’s death when she first noticed the change in them. How they would speak to her but never really say anything, and how they would spend time with her but always seemed distant and removed when they did. They put up their walls and in retaliation - whether it was a conscious decision or not - she did the same. The fact that she is a constant and painful reminder of Ryan is the only conclusion she arrived at when trying to understand their behaviour towards her. And as more time went on, she realised she was right.

Yet last night, after saying it out loud, after finally confronting the tension between them and acknowledging the problem for the first time, she thought they would at least attempt to deny it. She thought they would shout and swear and be incensed at such an accusation, or, if they did admit it, that they would grovel and apologise and beg for forgiveness… but they didn’t. There was barely any reaction at all. They didn’t admit it outright, but they certainly didn’t deny it either and to Abbey it only validated further that she has been right all along. Not only is her theory correct, but deep down, her mum and her brother know exactly how they have been acting towards her. And that hurts more than she can stand.

Although a big part of Abbey wants to lie in bed all day and spiral into despair, she knows that it will serve no purpose. Staring up at the ceiling and wishing things were different certainly isn’t going to change anything or make the situation any better.

She begrudgingly heaves herself out of bed and stumbles over to the en suite bathroom, rubbing her eyes as she flicks on the light. Considering her emotional meltdown last night she doesn’t look half as bad as she was expecting. She must have rubbed most of her make-up off and her face isn’t red and puffy like it usually appears after a major crying session. Her black eye on the other hand is definitely darker, casting a think purple shadow across her cheek bone. Not a great look.

After splashing cold water on her face, cleaning her teeth and brushing her hair, Abbey changes into her joggers and a vest top and makes her way, rather sheepishly, into the kitchen. Alex is sitting at the table reading a paper with a cup of coffee in his hand. He is dressed in a thin, black V neck jumper and his usual dark blue jeans that fit him perfectly. He looks wide eyed and awake, ready to take on the day, and it makes Abbey feel a little self-conscious. As she enters the room he smiles her favourite smile and folds his paper, placing his coffee mug down on top of it without taking his eyes from her face.