Set Me Free (10 page)

Once inside the
sanctum of her sister’s flat, Emily’s tears began to flow. Charlotte led her to
the couch.

‘Oh God, oh God,
oh God,’ Emily despaired as she rocked in Charlotte’s arms. ‘I can’t believe
how much this hurts. How could he do this to me?’

‘I have absolutely
no fucking idea, Em.’

How could this
happen?  Emily and Geoff were high school sweethearts who only had eyes for each
other from the age of sixteen. Geoff adored Emily. Sure, when they were younger
Charlotte had wondered if his corporate career would clash with Emily’s
slightly bohemian lifestyle. But after nearly ten years together they'd withstood
the test of time, and she'd long since given up doubting. She might have
thought their differences had finally driven them apart, but the woman they’d
caught in his arms was Cassette, who was even more bohemian than Emily. What
the hell was going on?  On the surface, it seemed Cassette’s maliciousness had
reached new, unforeseen, and unbelievable lows.

After some time
smoothing down her hair and shushing her, Charlotte let Emily go in order to make
some chicken noodle soup, a family staple for all kinds of crises.

She brought it
back to Emily and waved it under her sniffling nose. ‘Here honey, you need to
eat.’

‘I’m not hungry.’

‘Of course you’re
not, but you have to eat okay?  We were on our way to lunch, remember?’

Emily took the
soup and looked into the bowl as though it was a crystal ball.

‘Eat,’ Charlotte
commanded, standing over her.

Before she could,
the front door was assaulted. Emily jumped, scalding her legs as the soup
sloshed out of the bowl.

‘Charlotte!’ Geoff
bellowed. ‘I know you’re in there!  I want to see my wife!' And then changing
his tone dramatically, ‘Emily honey, Emily?  I can explain. Please talk to me,
babe. She means nothing to me,’ he pleaded.

Charlotte groaned.
‘Is that some kind of script they’re all given at fourteen?  Can he be any more
of a cliché?’

‘Can you make him
go away?' Emily’s voice was small.

‘Of course I can. You
go into the bedroom and lock the door. Take the soup with you.’

Once Emily was
safely out of sight, Charlotte opened the door but kept the chain on. Geoff
looked hysterical, sweating and dishevelled, like he’d run all the way there. ‘Let
me in, Charlotte!’ he demanded. ‘Where is she?’

‘I will let you in,
Geoffrey, but only to stop you making a scene on my doorstep. But I will not
let you in until you lower your voice and change your tone. Need I remind you
that you're the one who has fucked up here?  If you will kindly stop yelling at
me and demonstrate a little remorse, you might find yourself on the other side
of this door.’

Geoff was shaking
as he stepped back to pull himself together. ‘Okay,’ he said. ‘I really need to
talk to her, Charlotte.' He exhaled heavily.

Without further
comment, Charlotte closed the door again and unhooked the chain. When she re-opened
it, she expected him to push her aside and barge into the flat, but he
surprised her with his slightly shaky composure. Clocking her closed bedroom
door, Geoff went to plead through it.

‘Emily, please let
me in,’ he begged. ‘I can explain, honey.' Charlotte scoffed behind him, but he
ignored her. ‘Baby, you are my life,’ he continued. ‘Please, please talk to
me!’

The stony silence that
met him left him momentarily at a loss. When he lifted his fist to recommence
his angry hammering, Charlotte snapped.

‘Geoffrey!'

Although refusing
to look at her, Geoff dropped his fist. He sank to the floor and leaned his
head against the closed door.

‘You’ve got to
help me, Charlotte,’ he mumbled, turning to her.

‘Get real, Geoff. You
know where my loyalties lie.’

‘Please?’ he
begged.

She considered him.
What the hell did he think she'd do, convince Emily to forgive and forget?  He
looked so desperate; she might have felt sorry for him had the betrayal not
been so unfathomable. It was one thing to cheat on your wife, it was another to
do it with Cassette.

Charlotte
refocused on getting rid of him.

‘Alright, Geoff. I’ll
help you,’ she lied. ‘But you need to help me too. She needs time to digest
what she saw okay?  Give her tonight and I’ll bring her home in the morning.’

‘But I need to
explain.’

What possible
explanation could there be?
she wanted to ask, but held her tongue.

Keeping the
derision out of her voice, she told him he could explain in the morning. ‘Give
her tonight, Geoff. You owe her that.’

It was Geoff’s
turn to assess the situation. Nervously she watched his mind tick over,
uncertain of what to try next if he refused.

He didn’t.

He virtually
crawled out of the flat. ‘I love you, Emily,’ he called feebly as Charlotte
shut the door in his face, resisting the urge to slam it.

She heard the lock
on the bedroom door give and opened it to find Emily folded on the floor
weeping silently. She picked her sister up, steered her back to the couch and
phoned her best friend.

Ben arrived ten
minutes later and made a beeline for Emily. He pulled her into a tight embrace,
squeezing more tears out of her, all over his t-shirt. Charlotte watched them
from the kitchen, loving Ben for being so rock solid.

Ben
had no idea what to do, so he just kept holding on. God, the number of times
he’d dreamed of being where he was right now. At the lowest point of indulging
in the misery of his unrequited love, he’d even fantasised about the unfolding
scenario: Geoff cheating on Emily and her turning to him for comfort. There was
also the more palatable daydream, where one day she simply walked into Bean
Drinkin’ and told him she was leaving Geoff because she’d discovered she was
madly in love with him. Now, as he held a shaking, snorting, clearly devastated
Emily, Ben desperately wished the latter was the dream that was coming true.

Charlotte busied
herself with the kettle in the kitchen. He steeled his expression. It wouldn't do
to have Charlotte read his thoughts. For four years now he'd been mastering his
impassive face, not reacting whenever Emily walked into the room, ignoring the
way her musical laugh made him certain the world was full of wonder.

Being in love with
a married woman was hard work. But hiding it from your best friend was even
harder.

After some time,
Emily’s sobs and snorts subsided, and she extracted herself from Ben’s arms.

‘Oh God, look at
you,’ she groaned, gripping the dampness on his chest.

 ‘I’m so sorry,
Em,’ he said quietly, gently brushing her hair back from her face.

Emily sniffed. ‘Me
too.’

Charlotte placed a
tray of steaming cups on the coffee table.

‘Is that…tea?’ Ben
asked.

‘Yes. It’s what
you need in a crisis,’ Charlotte replied, her tone both officious and
sarcastic.

‘You two never
drink tea,’ Ben said.

Emily let out a
weak giggle. ‘Chicken noodle soup and tea will cure most ills, Ben. It’s an old
Evans family tradition.’

‘I thought you
hated tea.’

‘We do.' Emily
giggled properly this time, the kind of hysterical giggle that comes after
hours of weeping. She claimed a cup, took a sip and winced. Charlotte let out
her own small chuckle.

They drank their
tea for a few moments, smirking after each sip until Emily set her cup down. ‘What
am I going to do?’ she asked them.

‘You don’t need to
decide now,’ Charlotte answered.

‘But I feel I need
to do something. Otherwise, I am going to just relive that horrible scene over
and over again and keep asking myself why.’

Charlotte squeezed
herself on to the two-seater couch next to Emily, squashing the three of them
together. Ben considered giving the girls some space, but if he moved, Emily
was likely to dissolve into tears again. She leaned her head on his shoulder
and reached for her sister’s hand.

‘I love you two,’
she murmured. His chest tightened.

And then the
questions began. How long had he been seeing her?  When did it start? How
serious was it? How sordid was it?  In unspoken consensus, Charlotte and Ben
let her talk it out; let her wear herself down, because sleep was the only
thing that was going to numb the pain.

Hours of slow,
quiet conversation later, the afternoon had become evening. Charlotte was back
in the kitchen making more soup, boiling and blending vegetables this time,
when their peace was harshly interrupted. Someone was trying to beat their way
through her front door with their fists, again.

‘Charlotte!  Let
me in! I want to see my wife!' Geoff. No surprises there.

Emily stiffened
and her eyes filled with panic. ‘I don’t want to see him,’ she told Ben,
gripping his arm. Ben and Charlotte exchanged a look, before Ben left Emily’s
side to confer with Charlotte in the kitchen.

‘Charlotte, you
fucking cow, open the door.' Great. It was Drunk Geoff. Angry, Drunk Geoff.

Emily wasn’t
waiting for them to figure something out. She leapt off the couch and flew to
Charlotte’s bedroom.

‘Why do you have a
lock on your bedroom door?’ Ben asked Charlotte, momentarily distracted.

‘I live alone. It
makes me feel safer,’ she snapped. ‘Focus, Ben.’

The hammering on
the door intensified, and Charlotte’s downstairs neighbour yelled something
indecipherable. The reminder she had downstairs neighbours gave her an idea.

‘Follow me,’ she
said and led Ben out onto the balcony. ‘Now that he is drunk, Geoff is not
going to give up until he sees Emily; which means we have to move her. Even if
I did manage to get him to stop banging on the front door, he won’t leave as
long as he knows she is in here. If I can show him she’s not here, he’ll go
away. Your place is perfect. Geoff has no idea where you live, so if she stayed
there he won’t be able to find her tonight. But we need to sneak her out first.'
She pointed to the balcony that mirrored hers below. ‘You and Emily can climb
down onto the railing and then it’s only a short drop to the garden. Your car
is parked just around the corner.’

Ben protested. ‘Don’t
get me wrong, I follow your logic, but that’s a ten metre drop.’

‘Charlotte!  I’m
not leaving!' Geoff bellowed from the front door.

‘I told you
earlier, Geoff, she’s not talking to you tonight. Go home!’ Charlotte called
back. To Ben, she said, ‘It is not ten metres. It’s two, at best. Don’t be such
a chicken shit. I can’t tell you how many times Emily has climbed up that way
after a few too many beers on a night out.'

Ben paused a brief
moment to lament the circumstances by which he would have Emily in his
apartment overnight, but Charlotte’s reasoning had readily convinced him. He
looked again at the drop to the balcony below. It was doable.

‘Okay, you
distract Geoff, and I’ll get us out of here. Put your phone in your pocket on
vibrate and I’ll text you when we’re clear.’

Charlotte crossed
the apartment to the front entry while Ben made his way to her closed bedroom
door. She called to Geoff. ‘Go home, Geoff, before one of my neighbours calls
the police.’

‘Let me see my
wife, Charlotte,’ he slurred in response.

Ben tapped on the
bedroom door. ‘Emily, I’m going to get you out of here,’ he said, just loud
enough for her to hear.

She threw open the
door almost immediately. ‘Over the balcony?' Desperation made her eager and
unsettlingly sexy.

Ben smiled. ‘Lead
the way.’

She scaled the
outside of the building with ease, clearly familiar with every toe hold, making
him wonder just how often she climbed up onto Charlotte’s balcony. His own descent
was rougher, but his height made it easy. They dropped into the garden as
planned and crept around the side of the building. They'd be exposed
momentarily as they manoeuvred around the corner of the block to reach the
street where his car was parked. Pausing behind a conveniently bushy shrub,
they looked up at the front of the apartment building to the second floor. Miraculously,
Geoff was concealed behind the rising stairs, meaning he wouldn’t be able to
see them from where he was.

They bolted. Emily
ran like the wind and Ben struggled to keep up with her, as they raced around
the corner and down the short stretch to the car.

He unlocked the
vehicle and gallantly opened the door for her. She slid her panting frame in
and pulled it closed behind her. When he climbed into the driver’s seat, he
found her giggling hysterically.

Although he knew
time was of the essence, he started laughing too, until his eyes watered.

‘You’re pretty
fast,’ he teased, making Emily laugh even harder.

‘Here,’ he said,
handing her his phone. ‘Text your sister while I get us out of here.'