PIECES OF A RAINBOW
by MARIA SAVVA
Copyright © Maria Savva 2009
Smashwords Edition:
All rights reserved: No part of this ebook may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, without the prior permission of the publisher, nor be otherwise circulated in any form other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition being imposed on a subsequent purchaser.
The moral rights of Maria Savva as author have been asserted by her in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988
All characters in this publication are fictitious and any resemblance to real people, alive or dead, is purely coincidental
Cover design by Maria Savva
Acknowledgements:
I would like to thank the following people for their help with this collection:
Thanks to Carol Perry, for reading the first draft, and for valuable comments. Thanks for being honest about ‘not being sure’ about the first ‘green’ story I drafted. Thanks to you, I wrote a completely different one, and I’m much happier with it!
Thanks to my sister, Andrea, for helpful suggestions about the ‘red’ story, and help with the final draft, and comments about the different cover designs.
Thanks to Julie Elizabeth Powell, Catherine Rose, Cindy Bauer, and Quinn Bufogle, for encouragement and kind comments.
Thanks to Sarah-Jane Webbe, for not being happy with the original ‘red’ ending. Your comments motivated me to write a better ending!
Thanks to Jerry Travis for valuable tips during the editing process.
Thanks to all the friends I have made on Goodreads, BookArmy, Nextcat and MySpace, for support (too many names to mention!)
Last but not least: thanks to everyone who has read ‘Coincidences’ and ‘A Time to Tell’, and anyone who has given me encouragement over the years.
For Evita and Brenna
with love
This ebook contains bonus material! At the end, you will find excerpts from both The Dream and Fusion, by Maria Savva.
Pieces of a Rainbow—A collection of short stories
CONTENTS:
Some rain must fall, before a rainbow can appear...
SEEING RED
As a child, Savannah had loved the view of the sky at sunset; the deep reds and oranges blending and drifting as far as the eye could see. She had kept a scrapbook, cutting out beautiful pictures of the sunrise and sunset from magazines. So many photographers captured the scene in countries far and wide. She used to want to be a photographer, but Justin told her it was only a dream and that she had no chance of being successful.
Savannah turned away from the window; away from the sunset. She made a promise to herself that she would try to travel at least once this year. She missed the feeling of adventure and being far from everything that held memories, or anything that could cause pain. When she was travelling, it was like she had a blank canvas on which to build her dreams. As she walked along cobbled roads, in countries where she was unknown, no one could judge her for what had gone before. She could create a new identity and be who she wanted to be.
Savannah walked over to her bed and sat down. She thought of Justin, and couldn’t help the smile that played on her lips. She couldn’t wait to see him again. It had been such a long time since they’d seen each other; nearly four years. So much would have changed. She wondered if he still loved her. Then she thought of Jack, and her forehead creased into a frown.
* * *
Savannah and Justin first met at the age of 11, at secondary school. He had helped her with her maths homework and then they spent hours together, just chatting about pop bands and what they wanted to do when they left school. They became best friends. When her mother died from cancer, when Savannah was only 14, Justin had been there to help her through. She was an only child, and her parents had divorced a few years before. Savannah had been living with her mother. She didn’t get on with her father’s new wife, so she didn’t want to stay with them after her mother’s death. After some family discussions, she had been sent to live with her uncle and aunt and her cousins, Amy and Jenna. Savannah didn’t have much in common with her cousins. They were clever. Amy wanted to be a politician, and Jenna wanted to be a vet. They laughed at Savannah when she said she would love to be a photographer or one day write a novel.
Savannah withdrew into herself. She was no longer the bubbly teenager, who liked dressing up in bright pinks and electric blues, dyeing her hair all the colours of the rainbow. Now she was a moody girl who would always dress in black. Her mousy-brown hair was left to hang and grow, as if she’d forgotten all about it and never looked in a mirror.
Savannah would overhear her aunt and uncle talking about her, always referring to the ‘change’ in her behaviour. They said it was because she was mourning her mother’s death, and that she should be given time. They never tried to ask her what was wrong; they never tried to help her. Everything was just conveniently swept under the carpet.
Justin was like a safe harbour that she could cling to, and she felt sure that he would always help. But as with all teenagers, Justin too was beginning to change.
In the beginning he had been quite studious, a bit quiet, but always a good friend; a bit of a dreamer, just like her. In those days Justin never made fun of Savannah’s dreams to become a writer or a photographer. He would read the short stories she’d written, and say they were good. He wanted to be a musician. He grew his hair and become friendly with one of the older boys who had started a band at school. They played a few gigs in the school hall. Savannah was never happier in those days, than when she was spending time with Justin. He seemed to be the only one who understood her.
Everything changed one day when Justin turned up at Savannah’s house with a new friend. They were 15 years old, and up until then it had always been Justin and Savannah; no one else. Savannah had preferred it that way. She hated meeting new people. They always asked too many questions, especially about her mum and dad.
Justin introduced Jane as his girlfriend. She was pretty. He had met her when he was in town with his cousin. Jane was clever too, like Amy and Jenna. She wanted to be a lawyer when she left school.
Savannah made her excuses about why she couldn’t go out with them, and then she locked herself in her bedroom. She cried. She had never thought of Justin as more than just a friend—her best friend; but now she was jealous. She didn’t like the idea of him seeing this other girl.
In a few months time, Justin was almost unrecognisable. He had changed. He cut his hair and started wearing smart clothes. But it wasn’t just a physical change; his views on life seemed to have changed as well. He now said he wanted to be a lawyer and would be going to the same university as Jane. He began to say that Savannah should think hard about her studies instead of wasting time trying to write her short stories. He told her that the stories were not that great. He stopped playing in his band.
Savannah lost touch with him for two years after that. She started working at a supermarket when she left school, and began to slowly forge relationships with her co-workers. None of them could be called ‘friends’ though. She felt very lonely, and would spend all her spare time reading novels. The stories took her far away to a different world where she would get to know the characters, as if they were her friends, and she was never disappointed by them.
She used her first year’s savings, from her wages, to travel to Paris. She had never been abroad before and always wanted to visit Paris. It was portrayed as such a romantic city in the books she had read. She began to dream that she might fall in love in Paris and never return to London. She had studied French at school and it was one of the subjects that she did well in, along with English literature and drama.
She spent a relaxing two weeks in Paris. She liked walking through the narrow streets, taking ‘arty’ photographs. She dared to dream that one day the pictures might be displayed in an exhibition somewhere, when she became a ‘real’ photographer. She spent hours sitting at tables outside quaint little cafés, enjoying the scenery and listening to the conversations around her, feeling proud when she understood what some of the native speakers were saying. She ate croissants for breakfast, and took a trip to the banks of the River Seine, where she sat watching people pass by; some walking, some on roller skates, some on bicycles. Her hotel had a small balcony and she would sit out until the early hours, counting the stars and trying to see the different formations of the constellations she had heard about.
When she returned from Paris, she knew she had caught the travel bug. She bought a map of the world and began to plan all the places she would visit; Rome, New York, Berlin, Spain; the list went on. Her days at the supermarket were just a necessary evil, she went there to earn the money she would need to travel to far-off places.
On her way back home one evening, not long before her eighteenth birthday, she saw a young man standing at the bus stop. He looked familiar. He was wearing dark glasses, as it was a sunny day, but she was sure she knew him. She walked closer to him, in the hope that he would say hello. She had a feeling it was Justin. She wanted it to be Justin. Although she hadn’t seen him for two years, she still thought about him every day, no matter how hard she tried not to. He was like an obsession.
‘Hello, Savannah!’ he said.
It was Justin. He removed his glasses.
‘Hi,’ she said, hoping he could not tell how much she had missed him.
‘You look great!’ he said, hugging her. ‘How are you?’
She smiled at him. ‘I’m fine thanks,’ she said. She felt she didn’t know him well enough to have a proper conversation. How odd that she should feel so awkward talking to someone who had listened to all her dreams, someone who had spent every day with her for over four years. Now they were nothing but strangers. Time was a funny thing.
It turned out that his girlfriend, Jane, was going to a different university, and he had lost touch with her. He asked Savannah if she would like to meet up for a drink. She agreed.
Less than five years later they were married, living in a two-bed terraced house on the same road as his parents. She was pregnant. She was the happiest she had ever been.
*
Savannah sat on her bed, and reflected back to that time. Tears fell from her eyes, but she didn’t notice. It had all been so perfect, she should have known it would have to go wrong. She had always been told that if something seemed too good to be true, then it probably wasn’t true.
The night of the 13th of May 2005 had been just like any other night. Justin had been working late, as he always seemed to be doing. They had a baby on the way, so Savannah didn’t question him. She was sure he was just doing what he could to make certain they would be secure. She felt a contraction. The baby wasn’t due for another two weeks. She panicked. Savannah phoned Justin on his mobile and he replied, sounding out of breath. She was sure she could hear a woman’s voice in the background. Justin said he would be there as soon as he could.
Savannah waited, timing her contractions. Soon they were every ten minutes, with still no sign of Justin. She decided to phone an ambulance; but as she stood up to go to the phone, she felt the most unbearable pain, and fell over, fainting. When she woke up, she realised she was in labour. There was no one around, and she could hardly move. She could feel the baby was on its way out. She heard the front door open. Justin walked in and saw her lying on the floor. He ran over to her.
‘Where have you been?’ she screamed. ‘You’re going to have to deliver the baby, I can’t wait much longer, it’s coming out! Justin!’
‘I’ll phone an ambulance,’ he said.
‘No, there’s no time for that!’
Justin seemed frightened, and Savannah was reminded of how his face looked when they were at school and lining up for their vaccinations.
‘I don’t know what to do!’ he shouted.
‘Just... catch the baby when it comes out... then we’ll call the ambulance!’ she said between breaths.
The blood was everywhere; all over the floor, all over her clothes, and all over Justin’s expensive suit. But he managed to deliver the baby safely, and an ambulance arrived shortly after.
The night of the birth, Justin had been with Jane; his ex-girlfriend. She had got back in touch with him a month before, and they had begun an affair. Instead of spending late nights at work, he had actually been with her. Justin felt so guilty about this after the baby was born, that he confessed to Savannah and asked for her forgiveness. He promised never to see Jane again.
Savannah was devastated by the news. She slowly withdrew into herself again, just as she had done when her mother died. Justin made an appointment for her at the doctor’s, feeling sure she had post-natal depression. She hardly wanted to do anything for the baby. She was given anti-depressants and told that she would probably have to take them long-term.
One evening, a few months later, when Justin returned home late from work, Savannah confronted him:
‘Where have you been? With Jane?’
‘No, I was working.’
Savannah revealed the large kitchen knife she had in her right hand, which she had been holding behind her back. Justin gasped. ‘What are you doing?’
‘I’m sick of your lies,’ she said. ‘You’ve been cheating again, haven’t you?’ She ran towards him and stabbed him with the knife, right in the middle of his chest.
At court they bandied around words, like ‘pre-meditated’ and ‘attempted murder’, but Savannah could only stand and listen. She had stopped talking. She felt like she would never speak again. She could recall the colour of the blood on the floor, the same as it had been a few months earlier when she gave birth to Jack. Red. Deep Red. She would never forget it. Only she knew that it had not been pre-meditated. She had been holding the knife when Justin walked through the door, and had forgotten it was in her hands. She had only wanted to hit him. She couldn’t even really remember why the knife was in her hands. It had all happened so quickly. Seconds later, he was lying on the floor in a pool of blood, gasping for breath. She phoned the ambulance. That one minute had changed the course of her life.
The truth was, ever since she had been taking the tablets, she’d had problems with her memory. She often felt as though she was in a daze. She didn’t take them regularly, and had begun drinking alcohol to try to numb the feelings of despair that raged within her mind. She had started to have suicidal thoughts. The day she had used the knife against Justin, she was having those same thoughts; a desire to harm herself. But she had been distracted by Justin coming home. Perhaps if he had not come home, she would have used the knife on herself. Sometimes she wished she had.
She recalled the way Justin had looked at her in court. The fear in his eyes. He had testified against her.
She had written him letters since then, trying to explain, and asking about Jack. She never received a reply.
In all her days in prison, she never stopped thinking about Justin and Jack, looking forward to the day when they would get back together. That was the only thing that kept her going.
‘Savannah, it’s time to go,’ said the Prison Warder.
Savannah stepped out into the cold air, feeling the open space around her. She took a deep breath, wanting to hold it inside, not being sure when she would breathe fresh air again. She had to remind herself that she was free now. Free to go back to Justin and Jack; the life that had been left behind.
She looked up to the sky and caught sight of a rainbow. For a moment, she was mesmerised by its beautiful colours arranged in a perfect arc. She pulled her cardigan closer, to guard against the chilly wind, and walked the street in a part of town where she was unknown. She tried to imagine she was in another country and she could blend in. There was no past, only the present.
She took a bus to more familiar territory. As she walked along Ashborn Street—the place she had called home—she saw some children playing outside. It was starting to get dark. One boy looked about 4 years old. He had brown hair. She wondered whether it was Jack. She hadn’t seen her son since he was a few months old.
She felt her heart flutter as she walked past him. She wanted to ask his name, but one of the older boys was looking at her and she felt self-conscious. Anyway, what would she say? “Hi Jack, I’m your mummy.”?
Soon she was outside number 29. She took a deep breath, and knocked on the door, nervously anticipating seeing Justin again.
A tall, black-haired man, opened the door. ‘Hello, can I help you?’
Savannah could hear a child playing in the house. Could that be Jack?
‘Um... I’m looking for Justin,’ she said.
The man’s face looked blank. ‘Sorry, you must have the wrong house.’
‘No, no it’s the right house. I... he used to live here.’
‘Well, we bought the house last year from a man. Yes, his name was Justin, now that I come to think of it. I think he was moving up north.’
Savannah nodded her head. She could think of nothing else to say. ‘Thanks,’ she said, walking away.
She walked towards number 19; his parents’ house. She was dreading this. But she was still hopeful that maybe he had moved in with his parents. Maybe he was unable to keep up the payments on the house. The man at number 29 said he had moved up north, but he could be wrong. She crossed her fingers, a habit she’d had from when she was young—a superstition; believing it would help make everything all right. Why it would work now though, she wasn’t sure; it hadn’t worked when she’d been standing by her late mother’s bedside in that cold hospital, all those years ago.
She knocked on the door, wishing she could be anywhere else.
The door was opened by a woman Savannah had never seen before. She began to worry that her memory was playing tricks on her, and that she had come to the wrong street. But she recognised the houses.
‘Er... hello, I’m looking for Mr. and Mrs. Porter.’
‘You must have the wrong address,’ said the young woman, getting ready to close the door.
‘Wait... do you know where they’ve moved to? This used to be their house.’
‘Oh, the old couple? They’ve gone to live with their son in York, I think.’
The door closed. Savannah stood there, not sure what to do. Where could she go? She’d been so sure she would find Justin. She didn’t have a back-up plan. She walked along the street, her head down.
After leaving his parents’ old house, she phoned Justin’s mobile number, using a public call box. She could still remember the number, even after four years. It was stored there, in her memory; the part of her mind that remembered everything about Justin. Every single thing.
She didn’t have much money, and hoped it would last for the call.
‘Hello?’
She recognised his voice straight away. ‘Justin, it’s me.’
‘Savannah? Where are you?’ He sounded surprised to hear her voice, but she wasn’t sure if he was pleased to hear her or not.
‘I’m in London. I’m a free woman now. Oh, Justin, I’ve missed you and Jack. How is Jack?’
‘He’s fine.’
‘I’ve been looking for you, but you’ve moved. You should have told me.’
‘We’re not living in London now.’
‘Where are you? Give me your address. I’ll come to see you. We need to discuss things. All I thought about when I was inside, was that when I got out I would see you and Jack. It kept me going.’
There was silence.
‘Justin?’
‘I’ve moved on, Savannah. I’m with someone else now, and I think it’s best if you stay away from Jack.’
Savannah had not even considered that Justin could be in another relationship. She couldn’t help but wonder if it was Jane... ‘You can’t stop me from seeing my son. I have rights,’ she said, feeling numb.
‘You tried to kill me.’
‘It was the drugs, it wasn’t me. I’m off the pills now. I got off them while I was in prison. I’m okay now.’
‘I’m pleased to hear that, but I can’t take a risk with Jack. Sorry.’
Savannah wanted to keep him on the phone. He was the only lifeline she had; the only connection that could help her through. She knew it was going to be hard to get back on her feet after being in prison for four years. ‘Justin, please, just hear me out. We have to talk. I have to be able to see my son. We can take it slowly. But please, you can’t just cut me out of his life.’
Savannah arrived at the train station. The train to York would be leaving the platform in less than an hour. Justin had reluctantly agreed to meet her at the station in York, but refused to give her his new address. He said he’d agree to supervised visits with Jack, but they would have to be arranged through a solicitor. She went to visit her old neighbour, Mrs. Petrie—who had once been a good friend—to borrow the money for the train ticket. Mrs. Petrie was a widow who lived alone. She never had any children of her own, and had always treated Savannah like a daughter. Mrs. Petrie seemed pleased to see her. She hugged her, and offered her a meal. The sudden show of warmth and affection took Savannah by surprise. She collapsed in tears. It had been so long since anyone had made her feel loved. The long grey days inside that prison cell, without any human interaction, had taken their toll. Mrs. Petrie listened to her, without judgement, as she told her everything. She told Savannah that she could stay at her house until she got back on her feet.
Savannah sat on a bench, on the train station platform. Before she knew it, she had fallen asleep; exhausted from the day’s events.
She was woken by somebody shaking her. ‘Wake up, have you got any money?’
He was dressed in a hooded top, hiding most of his face, but she could see he wasn’t more than about 15 years old.
‘Hey, lady, give me your money,’ he said.
A group of other teenagers were watching and laughing as the boy tried to pull her bag from her. That bag contained all her belongings—everything she had left in the world—and she wasn’t going to give it up without a struggle.
The boy stood back and pulled out a knife. ‘Look lady, if you don’t give me your bag, I’m gonna stab you, ya hear me?’
Savannah took a deep breath, and stood up to face the boy. She reached to grab the knife from him. She didn’t know why, but she knew she had to try to get the knife. He stepped back as she reached for his arm, and she pushed forward. She could see his face now; the hood had moved back. His friends were still laughing and jeering. He appeared frightened. His eyes looked like Justin’s eyes had looked when she’d revealed her kitchen knife, all those years ago. She felt shocked by this, and stood back quickly, loosening her grip on his arm. The boy lost his footing and fell backwards off the platform just as the express train whizzed past.
Savannah sat in the cold cell at the police station and was reminded of the time she had spent in prison. She could not go back to that. She would rather die. She cried openly in front of her lawyer. He reassured her that she could plead self-defence, and the CCTV evidence would show she was not to blame. He told her that the young boy who had threatened her with a knife was well known to the police. Savannah’s memory of the event was blurred, but she could recall that she had approached the boy before he fell off the track. What if they blamed her for pushing him? After all, she had committed one violent offence before, and she’d served time for it. Her mind was in turmoil. She felt herself shaking from the fear.
As she walked free from the police station, holding the sheet of paper that contained her bail conditions, she wiped a tear from her eye. Her lawyer had tried to make her feel better, saying that they would never have agreed to bail if they thought she’d get a custodial sentence. He said he was sure she would be found innocent. But his words meant nothing to her. She felt cold. She shouldn’t be here in the first place. She shouldn’t be in this position. She had been minding her own business, and she had been attacked; yet here she was, having to defend herself, and feeling guilty for a death that was beyond her control.
And the thing that kept going around in her head as she sat listening to her lawyer, was that Justin would never love her now. He would blame her for the death of this teenager. He would never believe it was self-defence. He would think she was a murderer. It was then that she knew she would always love Justin, no matter what. He was a tattoo on her heart that could not be removed. But she knew she would have to accept that he would never love her in the same way.
The one thing that could make it all okay in her mind, was if she could hold Jack. The son she had not seen for four years; the son who was calling someone else ‘Mummy’. But even if she could somehow convince Justin that it was not her fault, and ask him to let her see Jack, she still wouldn’t be able to visit her son until all of this was resolved. The bail conditions stipulated that she had to stay in London.
‘Are you okay dear?’ asked Mrs. Petrie, as they walked to the taxi. She didn’t look at Savannah as she spoke.
‘I will be,’ she replied, not really sure if that was true. Savannah felt terrible about dragging Mrs. Petrie out to the police station, but her lawyer had been having a difficult time convincing the police to release her on bail without a surety.
Mrs. Petrie hardly said a word in the taxi on the way back to her house. Savannah felt like a small child who had been collected from school by her parent, after being told off by the headmaster. What must Mrs. Petrie think of her? She’d only just been released from prison, and here she was facing another trial. But as they got out of the taxi, and Mrs. Petrie paid the driver, she turned and smiled at Savannah. That smile seemed to speak volumes. Mrs. Petrie was on her side; she understood it was not her fault. Everything else faded away into insignificance.