Free Sweet Damage by Rebecca James

Fiona insisted. ‘She could end up sitting out here for hours. May as well be comfortable at our house. She doesn’t want to go back inside, tail between her legs, and I don’t blame her.’ She turned to Anna. ‘What do you think?’
    It was a surprising and strange invitation – not at all what Anna would have expected. But her headache was gone and the argument with her mother had filled her with restless energy. Even if she did manage to get back inside without being seen, there was no way she’d be able to sleep anytime soon.
    â€˜I think it’s a very good idea,’ she said. ‘Thank you.’
    They drank whisky and stayed up till early in the morning. It was Anna who did most of the talking. She talked and talked. She told them about her childhood, about her stormy relationship with her mother, stuff she’d never told anyone before.
    â€˜I feel sorry for my father,’ she told them. ‘Mum is always mad about something. Always making wild accusations. She’s insanely jealous.’
    â€˜Jealous? Of what?’
    â€˜Oh, she always thinks he’s cheating. But he’s not. He wouldn’t. Not that anyone would blame him if he did. Putting up with her all this time.’
    Marcus was quiet, but sympathetic. Fiona asked question after question. Never once did Anna feel she was boring them. Eventually Marcus said goodnight, explaining that he needed to get some sleep.
    â€˜You should probably stay over,’ Fiona said to Anna. ‘It’s too late to go home now.’
    Fiona lent her a nightie and toothbrush, took her to the spare bedroom and hugged her goodnight. As Anna slipped between the clean sheets she felt as if she’d been liberated from some kind of prison, albeit one largely of her own imagining. Her mother’s emotional hold over her had been like a cell with an unlocked door. She’d only had to push the door open and walk through to be free.
    *
    If only that sense of freedom had lasted. If only she’d had a chance to enjoy it. But the things that have happened since that night, the events that have left her alone in this empty old house, miserable and guilty, deserving of every bad thing life chooses to hurl her way, have only trapped her in a different prison. And it’s a prison with smaller cells, without windows or light, a prison with a tightly locked door that can never be opened, no matter how hard she pushes.

12
    N OT LONG AFTER F IONA AND M ARCUS HAVE LEFT , I GET A CALL from Dad.
    â€˜Sorry, mate, but do you think you’d be able to come in tonight? Liam can’t make it. Fell off his bike and hurt his wrist. I wouldn’t ask, but we’re fully booked.’
    Normally I hate being asked to work on my day off, but today the idea of going to the restaurant doesn’t seem so bad. Better than hanging around the house with Anna. I get ready to go, then knock softly on Anna’s bedroom door.
    â€˜Hey Anna,’ I call through the door. ‘I’m just heading off to work. Hope you’re okay. Call me if you need anything.’
    I wait but she doesn’t respond.
    â€˜Okay. See ya,’ I say.
    The restaurant is booked out for an anniversary party. They’re not arriving until seven, so when I get there at five I cook an early meal for the staff so we can eat before the rush of customers. I grill up some fish and make a big bowl of salad and another huge one of chips, then we all sit down with glasses of cold lemonade and Coke.
    â€˜So, how’s it going up at the house?’ Blake asks me as he shoves chips into his mouth. ‘Did you ask the girl – whatsername? – about the painting? Did she remember me?’
    â€˜Anna,’ I say. ‘Don’t think so. Not sure. She didn’t say much.’
    â€˜What’s that?’ Dad asks, looking from Blake to me.
    I explain about Blake painting the house.
    â€˜So you’ve met Anna then?’ Dad asks