Paper Chains Read online

  ‘Think I’m done too,’ said India, smiling at the remaining players around the table. ‘Taken enough of your cash for one night,’ she added. India pushed back her chair so that it scraped noisily on the floorboards and wandered over to the couch, sitting down next to the young girl.

  ‘How’s it going?’ she asked her gently.

  Once again the girl looked startled at having been addressed. ‘Oh, I’m okay,’ she replied. She had a sweet southern accent and her fingers picked at a hole in the knee of her jeans as she spoke.

  India glanced at her watch; it was after 3 am. She couldn’t be bothered making small talk this far past midnight. ‘You going to have sex with that guy?’ she asked. The girl stared back at India in shock. ‘I don’t know,’ she replied quickly.

  ‘Okay, talk me through it. What’s your thought process here? I’ll help you make up your mind.’

  ‘Really? Umm, isn’t this sort of . . . weird? I don’t actually know who you are.’

  ‘So? My name’s India. Feel better? I can tell you’re stuck. Talk to me.’

  The girl relented. ‘All right, fine – I am confused. That guy’s part of my tour group. We’ve been flirting over the past couple of weeks. But, I kind of thought we’d, you know, have some kind of romantic moment, maybe kiss by the Eiffel Tower when we get to Paris or something – not just hook up in the middle of the night like this.’

  ‘You’re disappointed.’

  ‘I guess.’

  ‘And do you want to sleep with him?’

  ‘Ye-e-s,’ she replied slowly. ‘But you know, eventually, after a couple of proper “dates”. But I’m worried if I turn him down he’ll move on to someone else.’

  ‘Ahh, well then, the answer is simple. You don’t do something just because you’re trying to keep someone else happy. You do things for yourself. You do what YOU want to do. Me? If I feel like sleeping with a guy, I sleep with him. If I don’t want to, then I don’t do it. Hang on, actually. Let me fix this for you. What’s your name, hon?’

  ‘Monique.’

  ‘Hold up one second.’ India stood up and walked briskly out of the common room, stopping at the first door on the right. She knocked quietly and then swung the door inwards. There were three sleeping figures on bunk beds and the American guy from the card game was sitting on the edge of a fourth bed, taking his shoes off.

  ‘Oh, hey,’ he said in surprise, looking up at India.

  ‘Dude, Monique’s into you, right. And I know you’re trying to be all cool and New Age with your take me or leave me shit. But don’t be that guy; take her out to dinner, maybe a picnic in front of the Sacré Coeur when you hit France. Got it?’

  She turned and left the room without waiting for a response. Back in the common room, she smiled at Monique. ‘It’s up to you, babe, but I’d wait until I knew for a fact it’s what I wanted to do. And don’t forget, you can always ask him out on a date, okay?’

  She headed to her own room wondering if interfering was the right thing to do – but then again, she didn’t really care if it was right or wrong, because it felt right. Besides, she liked to meddle, it was fun; it made her feel like a puppet-master – a benevolent puppet-master, though, not an evil one. It was something she had always enjoyed doing when she was younger, although perhaps not with as much confidence as she displayed now. In primary school she could recall writing a love letter to her friend Jen and signing it from Michael Green – a boy she could just tell had a crush on her friend, but who probably would have never told Jen, had India not given them that little prod they needed. Michael and Jen held hands in the playground at little lunch and big lunch every day from that day onwards until the last day of year six – when they went to separate high schools. India remembered how her chest had swelled with pride the first time she had seen Jen reach over and take Michael’s hand as they sat side-by-side eating their vegemite sandwiches.

  As India reached her room and climbed quietly into her bed in the dark, without bothering to change, she realised that playing match maker yet again and seeing those two contemplating the beginning of a holiday romance had made her start thinking of Simon and, more specifically, about sex with Simon.

  The first time with Simon had been, to say the least, quite mind-blowing actually. India was by no means inexperienced; she was very open about her sexuality, more than capable of separating sex and emotions when she needed. But with Simon . . . God, he’d made her see stars, he’d made her want to fall asleep curled up in his arms afterwards. He’d made her forget – for just a little while – everything that had happened to her over the past couple of years.

  No! Naughty India, you’re not supposed to think about him, she chided herself crossly. Perhaps it was time she had some one-night stands of her own.

  Hannah made the mistake of mentioning the invite she’d received to watch the boat race to her boss, Helen.

  ‘Take the day off,’ she said immediately.

  ‘What? No, that’s not what I meant. I wasn’t asking to go; I was just making conversation!’

  ‘I know you weren’t asking, but for God’s sake, woman, give yourself a break. You deserve a weekend. There are enough staff here to cover all the counters. Go.’

  When Hannah tried to protest, Helen stared her down and eventually there seemed no other choice but to give in. She headed back to her flat to change and found herself putting on shorts, T-shirt and sneakers.

  You shouldn’t be going out and having fun. If you’ve got the day off then you’re going to run instead.

  As soon as this thought entered Hannah’s mind, she knew that it was the right thing to do. Still, she couldn’t help feeling disappointed as she left her flat and jogged down the several flights of stairs. She’d love to stretch out in the sunshine, maybe drink a beer or a Pimm’s and lemonade while she watched the boats gliding swiftly past.

  As she headed out the front door of her building and started off with a light jog, she found herself absentmindedly heading towards the Thames. She tried to convince herself that she wasn’t heading this way to try and watch the race, just that a run along the river might make for a good track. When she reached the Thames, she hesitated. The race started later that afternoon at Putney. India would be at a pub that overlooked the river in Hammersmith, halfway along the course, watching the boats pass with a few friends. It couldn’t hurt to head in that direction, could it? After all, running all the way to Hammersmith along the river would be hard work; it had to be ten to fifteen kilometres at least, didn’t it? And then double it for the run back. That was practically a marathon in itself, wasn’t it?

  She turned left and started running along the pathway, following the wide, winding river. As she ran, she wondered if she would actually go and find India and her friends when she reached Hammersmith. She still wasn’t sure that she deserved to join them. But then, maybe she would have earned the break after this run?

  About two hours later, Hannah began to suspect that something was wrong. She thought by now she should have reached the starting point of the race. In fact, she had expected to begin to see crowds of people a good half an hour ago. But the surrounding streets seemed quieter than ever. You just haven’t run far enough, she scolded herself crossly. It’s further than you first thought. Stop complaining and just keep going.

  She picked up her pace and continued on for another forty minutes. She checked her watch; the race would be starting soon – how could she not be there yet?! Spotting a café up ahead, she slowed down to a brisk walk, reaching the doors of the café just as a woman stepped outside, flipping over a closed sign as she went and pulling the door shut behind her.

  ‘Excuse me,’ Hannah began.

  ‘Sorry, love, we’re closed until dinner time.’ The woman gave her a brief smile and turned away.

  ‘Actually, I was just hoping you could help me with some directions?’

  ‘Sure,
where’re you headed to?’

  ‘I’ve been jogging along the river and I was just hoping I might catch the boat race . . . but I thought I would have reached Putney by now – I feel as if I’ve been running for ages.’

  ‘Putney?’ the woman exclaimed. ‘Goodness, love, that’s miles from here. Which direction are you coming from?’

  Hannah pointed. ‘That way, from the very centre of London. So it’s further than I thought then?’

  The woman widened her eyes. ‘Oh, I’m sorry to tell you this, love, but you’ve come the wrong way. Should have been following the river in the other direction. I’ve got some more bad news for you too – even if you hop on a train you’ll never make it in time. Race will be over within half an hour.’

  ‘Ah.’

  Hannah thanked the woman for her help and turned away, back towards the river. She could feel the woman’s sympathetic gaze on her back as she started to jog again.

  Karma, she thought bitterly as she watched the water flash by and felt her heels start to burn against the back of her shoes. This is karma for what you’ve done. You should never have tried to go and watch that race. It’s bad enough that you went out last night, that you had fun.

  She was going to have to give up on the friendship with India. It wasn’t right – this was proof of that fact.

  A vibration against her leg told her that her phone was ringing. She slowed down to a walk and pulled it out. It was him again. Simultaneous emotions welled up inside her. First, elation – he hasn’t given up. Then, fear – why is he calling me now? It’s the middle of the night right now for him.

  What if something was wrong? After all, that was the reason she had let him know her phone number – for emergencies – although deep down she’d known he probably wouldn’t stick to that.

  Her hands trembled; maybe she should answer . . . just this once. She took a gusty breath and pressed the green button to take the call.

  ‘Hello,’ she said in a small voice.

  ‘Hannah!’ His voice sounded tinny, far away. But hearing the warm familiar tones was making her knees weak. She should never have answered; this was a mistake.

  ‘Oh my God, I thought I’d never get to speak to you again. Are you okay?’

  Hannah hesitated. It didn’t sound as though anything was wrong; he sounded excited that she had actually picked up. She clenched her teeth and then said quickly, ‘Is everything all right, Liam? Why are you calling so late? Nothing’s happened, has it?’

  ‘Are you joking, Hannah? Where the hell do I even begin? No nothing’s happened, not since you bloody left. Hannah, please, where are you?’

  ‘I can’t, Liam. I just can’t, okay. But if there’s not some emergency, then I’m going to have to hang up. I’m sorry.’ The last two words were left hanging in the air for a moment, and Hannah immediately wished she hadn’t said them. I’m sorry didn’t even begin to make up for what she had done. Nothing could.

  ‘Hannah, this is insane. DON’T hang up! We need to talk, and don’t you even want to –’

  What he thought she wanted to do, Hannah didn’t wait to find out. She whipped the phone away from her ear and jabbed the call end button before she could change her mind. She could guess though – in fact she was more than positive she knew what the end of that sentence would be – and yes of course she wanted to, but that didn’t mean that she should. She had to stay strong; it was better for everyone this way. There was no going back from what she had done and she needed to find a way to move on, no matter how painful it was.

  She sat down on a low brick wall nearby and rested her head in her hands. She wondered if he would call back again straight away, but after waiting fifteen minutes she decided he wasn’t going to.

  ‘Do you hate me right now?’ she said out loud, without really meaning to.

  ‘Excuse me?’ asked a voice.

  Hannah lifted her head swiftly to see who had spoken. A man stood in front of her, a quizzical expression on his face.

  ‘Oh, sorry, I thought I was alone, didn’t really mean to speak out loud,’ she explained.

  ‘No need to apologise. But maybe you need someone to talk to?’ He motioned to the wall next to her and Hannah realised how miserable she must have looked.

  ‘That’s okay, you don’t need to,’ she began, but he was already sitting down beside her.

  ‘Sometimes it feels good to get it all out, especially to a complete stranger. Why don’t you tell me what’s going on?’ He gave her an encouraging smile. Something about the smile was a little bit creepy though, as if he was sort of leering at her. Hannah began to become aware of just how close he was sitting to her and then – even more startling – of just how quiet it was around here, deserted in fact.

  ‘Umm, you know what, I’m actually fine, thanks.’ She made to stand up and the man placed a heavy hand on her thigh to stop her. ‘Don’t be afraid, I just want to talk,’ he said quietly and his fingers briefly squeezed her leg.

  Panic started to flutter in Hannah’s chest. How had she ended up in this situation? Suddenly her phone rang in her pocket. The noise startled the man and he loosened his grip. Seizing the opportunity, Hannah elbowed his arm away, leapt up and started sprinting up the river. She could hear footsteps following after her and his voice calling out, ‘Don’t run away, sweetheart, I just want to help you to feel better.’ And then rolls of hideous laughter. But she didn’t turn back. Evidently he couldn’t run as fast as she could and eventually his footsteps started to die away while Hannah continued to pelt down the pathway. She didn’t slow down until she absolutely had to – not until her chest felt so tight she thought it might burst and tiny lights were darting in front of her eyes – and even then she kept up a brisk jog. Finally she felt safe enough to turn around and check behind her. He was barely a speck in the distance.

  Thank God.

  She turned back and continued to jog, pulling her phone out of her pocket as she ran so that she could check on the call that had rescued her. It must have been Liam, had to be. He had saved her, even after everything she had done. Oh God, she so desperately wanted to be with him right now, wanted to curl up in his arms and hide from the world and tell him how sorry she was. She wanted him to take away the sick, acidic, burning taste at the back of her throat, to make the aching pain in her gut evaporate. But when she looked at the number she realised she was wrong. It wasn’t Liam at all. It was India. India had saved her.

  Maybe she shouldn’t end that friendship just yet.

  She jogged for another half an hour and waited until she was surrounded by people before she felt comfortable enough to stop and return the call.

  ‘Hannah! Where are you, babe?’ India’s voice sounded bright and animated when she answered the phone. Hannah felt instantly comforted. ‘Umm, I’ve just been for a jog, I’m by the river – not sure where exactly.’

  ‘Well, come and join us for a drink, woman! You missed the race but celebrations will continue, and this is the best part anyway. We’re at the Old Ship. Jump on the tube; we’ll see you here in shall we say, twenty? I’ll have a cold beer waiting for you.’

  ‘I don’t really know how long it’ll take me,’ Hannah began.

  ‘You better get moving then, see you soon!’

  India hung up and Hannah couldn’t help feeling relief that she hadn’t been given a choice in the matter. She needed company, couldn’t bear the thought of going back to her flat alone right now – not with her flesh still tingling from where that man had touched her. She shivered involuntarily and started jogging again, keeping an eye out for a tube station. She hoped people weren’t going to be too dressed up at this pub because there wasn’t time to go home and change first; her shorts and T-shirt were going to have to do.

  India was squeezing her way through the crowds, back towards her table and her newly adopted group of friends. She hoped Hannah was okay; she’d lo
oked slightly alarmed when India had stood up to head to the bathroom. India was all for helping people, but she didn’t particularly want Hannah to become too needy. For goodness sake, if the girl couldn’t cope on her own for five minutes with a group of friendly strangers then perhaps she was just a tad socially inept? India was enjoying the mix of people filling the pub; it reminded her of the crowd you might find in a beer garden back home in Oz. Everyone was dressed in shorts and singlets, all with that slightly too rosy appearance that came from a day out in the sun combined with a little too much alcohol.

  Finally she reached their outdoor table and sighed, a little exasperated at the sight of Hannah, sitting on a bench, her shoulders pressed against people on both sides, a giant beer clutched in her hands, her eyes lowered, avoiding conversation. As India circled the table to stand beside her, Hannah looked up at her and visibly relaxed, her tensed shoulders dropping at least five centimetres.

  ‘Who are all these people, more backpackers from your hostel?’ Hannah hissed up at India. India shrugged. ‘Umm, I think that guy’s name is Aiden, or Adrian maybe. But that one is definitely his sister, Sammy. Or cousin . . .’ India paused to think carefully. ‘No, cousin, yes that’s it. And that’s Brendan and Clare, I think they’re an item – or if not they ought to be, don’t you think so? Check out the way he keeps touching her arm, right? Anyway, I’m not sure about the rest. None of them are from my hostel; I just met them all today, watched the race with them.’

  Hannah was looking up at India with eyes filled with awe. India felt like snapping her fingers in front of her face. Stop it, it’s not that amazing.

  ‘Come on, let’s go for a walk,’ said India, beckoning to Hannah. Hannah managed to extricate herself from the bench seat while holding her beer up in the air as she tried not to lose her balance. They paused for a moment, watching as the space where Hannah had been sitting instantly vanished as the people either side of her automatically swelled and fused themselves together and India found herself wondering how there was ever room for her shy new friend there at all.