Background: Angela is shocked when William, an old friend from her past, who she hoped never to see again, comes back into her life, after he applies for a role at her work and successfully secures the job. William’s sudden reappearance puts Angela on edge. She’s terrified he’s discovered her secret, which she needs to protect her family from. William’s convinced Angela knows what happened to his former girlfriend, Caz, who hasn't been seen for twenty years, and that something terrible happened to her. The only person, who can help Angela, is her once best friend, Michelle, but Angela hasn’t seen Michelle for more than a decade. Faced with the threat of William’s return, they know they’ll need to work together to save their future, even if this does mean reopening old wounds, and revisiting a past they'd rather keep buried.

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I pad around the kitchen; my feet are bare against the cool stone tiles.  

It’s Saturday afternoon, getting on for early evening. Rebecca’s up in her room and Paul’s in ours. I keep picturing him texting, whoever it is whose been occupying his thoughts for the last few days. It’s like we’re all disconnected from each other. It makes me want to yell at everyone to come down and tell them we need to sit together. I open my mouth, but stop myself.

I pick up my phone, which I left on charge in the kitchen. It’s six o’clock. We should be going out and doing something, even if it was just to go out for a meal at one of the pubs in the village. I think about making the suggestion to Paul. Then it hits me. Kirsty, she’s singing at The Bull tonight. I’m meant to be going to see her. I hold my hand to my sweaty forehead. God, she’ll be mad at me if I don’t turn up.

Will she want me to still go after everything that’s happened this week? I haven’t tried ringing her back after she tried calling me, when I left work on Thursday. If I go and see her sing tonight, then perhaps we can talk. I’ll be able to catch her when she takes a break. I’ll be able to get some sort of idea what might be in store for me at work, so I can prepare.

I don’t really blame her for what happened. Yes I was angry; I couldn’t help that at the time. But she was just doing her job. I would’ve been expected to do the same if I’d been in her position. Of course things are going to be alright between us, this is just a little blip, and we’ve never had an argument before so I’m sure things will be fine, once we’ve patched things up.

Forty minutes later I’m pulling into The Bull car park. It’s starting to spit lightly. The cloud cover had been growing heavier and darker during the drive here.

I peer in through the windows before I step inside. It’s busy. People at the bar, waiting to be served, are rammed up tight against each other. Kirsty’s name is written in chalk on a black board outside. It makes me want to tell everyone inside that I’m her friend. If this is their first time hearing her sing, they’re in for a real treat.

I push the door open, and allow the sounds of everyone chatting at the bar to swallow me up. Kirsty’s voice soon drifts into my ears. I snap my head round, and spot her over to my left, where she’s standing in the corner of a room, where normally drinkers gather. There are two massive speakers standing next to her. She’s clapping her hands together to the beat of the song, and I can see she’s totally immersed in her music.

I order a small glass of white wine and try and make my presence known to Kirsty by waving, but she’s too in the zone to notice me. She’s concentrating on hitting the notes, keeping her eyes closed at the same time, and she does so perfectly each time. I’ll wait until she stops for a break to grab her attention, I don’t want to distract her.

The guy behind the bar hands me my wine, and I tap my card on the machine.

I turn round and tap my foot on the floor.

‘Go on Kirsty!’ I yell, holding my arm up into the air.

Someone whistles and I see Kirsty grin. I’m surprised a guy’s never asked for her number after she’s sung. She definitely knows how to get a crowd going. The crowd erupts as Kirsty brings the song to an end. Why she won’t go on any of these talent shows is beyond me.

‘Okay, thank you, I’m going to take a short break, but I’ll be back soon,’ Kirsty says.

Her eyes are scanning the pub, she might be looking for me; she could’ve heard me shout. My heart flutters. Then she steps down from the small stage. She’s spotted me. But she doesn’t come over. She’s gone to someone else in the crowd. Someone who’s sitting near the front of the stage, perhaps a family member has come, or a friend.

I begin to push my way through the crowd towards her. Then I stop. She’s chatting animatedly to the person sitting closest to the stage, a bottle of water in her hand. He throws his head back and laughs. No. I take a step back, colliding into the person behind me.

‘Watch it,’ the woman says as her drink sloshes over the rim of her glass.

I don’t pay attention to her. I feel sick.

It’s William. Kirsty’s chatting to William. It looks like he’s here on his own. There’s a half empty pint of Moretti on his table.

Why the hell did Kirsty tell him she was singing here at the weekend? She barely knows him. I think back to how long I’d known her, before she invited me along to one of her gigs. Jealousy spikes through me. It grips my spine. He knows Kirsty’s my friend; he’s doing this to hurt me.

It was a mistake to come here. I shouldn’t have come. I down the rest of my wine in one, and take it back to the bar, slamming it back on the surface, which makes several people turn round and look at me. A few people giggle.

I step back out into the damp air which races into my lungs almost making me choke. The rain’s turned into a downpour now. I eye people on the other side of the road running, covering their heads with their jackets. To me, the rain is welcoming. My head is screaming. Did William come here tonight thinking I might turn up to see Kirsty, and hope to corner me here?

A couple of people are walking towards the pub. They give me a wide berth, probably thinking I’m about to throw up; they laugh and head inside. They’re probably laughing about me.

I catch my breath and break into a jog to get out of the rain. It didn’t look like Kirsty saw me while I was in the pub. She has no idea I’m here. She’ll be thinking I haven’t bothered to turn up because of what happened in the office this week.

I turn my car key in the ignition and the car chugs into life. My windscreen wipers start squeaking and flying across the windscreen. My stomach groans. I haven’t even had anything to eat. The picture of William, sitting at the front row, laughing and joking with Kirsty, fills my mind. It’s like I’m remembering a bad dream.

I grip the steering wheel tight; my knuckles turning white and I pull out onto the road. A car speeds past me sending a spray of water over the bonnet of my car, the driver obviously not caring. Then, there it is, a dark shape looming up in front of me, no, no, no. The screech of metal on metal fills my head, and the airbag smashes into my face.

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Character List:

Angela Watkins - Protagonist 

Paul Watkins - Angela's husband

Rebecca Watkins - Angela's daughter 

Michelle Blake - Angela's former best friend 

Kirsty - Receptionist (Angela's friend) 

Olivia - Angela's boss

William Harris - Angela's former friend 

Caroline (Caz) - Angela's friend 

Hayley - Angela's former friend

Lauren - Angela's former friend