Excellent Angela contacts her old friend. Me. Her. Him : Me. Her. Him - Chapter Ten by Jacob1395

Background Angela has spent nearly half her life hiding from a man in her past. But when he finally tracks her down, it isn't him she's scared of. It's what he knows. 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. ***************** I take a sip of Rose wine as I open my phone, the taste sweet on my tongue. I rarely drink it at home; to me it’s a sacred holiday drink, the first drink I go for whenever I go abroad. The cushion on our swing chair is soft, albeit it slightly damp underneath me. I’d asked Rebecca last night to bring it in because of the rain that was forecast and was I listened to, of course not; it’s always left to me to take the initiative, and no doubt she’ll blame some podcast distracting her. The wind bites at my cheeks and I pull my cardigan tighter around me, my Granny cardigan as Rebecca calls it. I slip my hand into my pocket and pull out my phone. I can’t make this call inside. Without giving myself time to try and dissuade myself from calling her further, I dial her number. The voice I haven’t heard for ten years appears on the other line, still in that same whispery tone which makes my heart skip a beat. I’m actually going to be speaking to her, I can’t believe it. ‘Angela.’ I open my mouth to speak, only air escapes. There isn’t even surprise in her voice, almost as though she’s been expecting me to call her. ‘Hi, Michelle.’ My voice comes out shaky. I get up from the chair; it creaks as it continues to swing a little and I stride further down the garden, to minimise the risk of Paul overhearing me. The dew soaked grass squelches under my feet. A memory passes through my mind of the very first day Michelle and I met at university. My chest was filled with air as I slipped out of my dorm and into the corridor. I was eager to get out there, to meet people, and join them in the bright sunshine. I was fed up of unpacking, which seemed to take up all the morning. I’m prestigious about that sort of thing; it’s not something I can put off. The dark haired girl ahead of me barely registered with me, before I collided into her back, sending her books flying to the floor. ‘Oh gosh, I’m so, so sorry,’ I said, bending to help her; the excitement in my chest, replaced by a hard rock of anxiety. I couldn’t believe I’d made a fool of myself on the first day. She didn’t quite look me in the eye. Her face was very thin. She half smiled, as I handed her book on law to her. Our fingers almost touched as she took it. This sent an electric shock pulsing through me. ‘Thanks, I’m Michelle,’ she said her voice a little tight. Perhaps she wanted me to just carry on my way and leave her to her books. ‘I’m Angela. You’re studying law?’ I asked, in an effort to try and make conversation. She blushed and hugged her books to her chest. ‘My dad, he’s the one who wanted me to,’ she said quietly. I’d frowned. ‘Didn’t they let you choose?’ I felt slightly sorry for her if she had to listen to what her parents told her to do. She shrugged. ‘I’m happy to go with the flow. What are you studying?’ Okay, so perhaps she didn’t mind her parents dictating to her what she should do. ‘History and English, I’m just about to head out and see what clubs there are. Why don’t you join me if you’re free?’ I was sure my friends, Hayley and Lauren wouldn’t mind Michelle tagging along. She rubbed her arm. She was beginning to back away. She was going to say no. Then she said something that completely knocked me off me feet. I pull at my collar. I’m sure, if we hadn’t bumped into each other that day, we never would’ve been friends. ‘This is a pleasant surprise,’ Michelle says. ‘I thought we . . .’ ‘Look, I know we said we should never speak to each other again, but . . . it’s William.’ I’ve reached the other end of the garden now. My eyes are fixed on the patio doors. Paul’s stretched out on the sofa in the living room, his attention focused on the television. I take another gulp of my wine, in an effort to boost my confidence. There’s more silence. I want her to say something. I try to picture what she might look like now, wondering if I’d recognise her if I was to bump into her in the street. Back when I knew her, she wore her dark hair in a ponytail. Her glasses were always balanced on the end of her nose, I kept telling her to try contact lenses, but she never listened. ‘What . . . what about William?’ Michelle asks. I tighten my grip on my wine glass. I have to keep calm. If I start shouting and flinging my arms about, Paul’s going to realise something is up, or one of the neighbours will. ‘There’s. Someone’s joined, where I work, and, I’m certain he’s William. Look, I know it sounds stupid, but when I saw him, I . . . Michelle, what if he’s come back, what if . . .’ My wine sloshes over the rim of my glass as I jerk my arm. ‘Angela, slow down,’ she says. I can almost hear annoyance in her voice. She’s going to be thinking I’m wasting her time. Or perhaps she’s in the middle of something and I’ve interrupted her. I finish off the rest of my wine in one frustrated swig. ‘Look, what makes you think he’s William? Is it something he’s said?’ I fill her in on what’s happened, trying my best to take my time, to make sure I’m explaining it clearly. I can’t rush this. ‘Okay, but has he said anything to you specifically, that makes you think he might be William?’ she asks.  She doesn’t believe me. Perhaps she thinks I’m going through some sort of mid-life crisis. I wish it was just that. I roll my shoulders back. I can’t start getting angry with her. She’ll shut me down if I do that. ‘No, he . . . the only thing he’s said to me so far, is that he lived in London with his girlfriend, when he was in his twenties. There are other things. Do you remember sometimes, when he spoke to me, the corner of his mouth twitched? Well, he’s done exactly the same thing. Do you know what his surname was? If I have that, I’ll be able to put my mind at rest.’   ‘London’s a big city, Angela, that’s hardly the smoking gun,’ Michelle says, her voice stiff. ‘In any case I don’t know his surname. From what I can remember he only told us his name was William, and that was that, he wasn’t much of a talker, not with the rest of us anyway. Are you sure you didn’t imagine his mouth twitching?’ Heat races into my cheeks. She needs to take this seriously, why isn’t she? ‘I didn’t imagine it. You weren’t there when I saw him for the first time, when he came to the interview; I’m bloody tearing my hair out over this. There’s been nothing since, that’s convinced me, that what I suspect is incorrect. You must know something more about him, something that will help me prove he isn’t the William who . . .’ I’m clutching tight onto my cardigan. ‘I keep thinking everything’s going to come tumbling down. I can’t lose my family, Michelle. They’re all I’ve got.’ I look again towards the living room, realising I’ve raised my voice, but Paul’s still stretched out on the sofa. ‘Okay, Angela, okay. Why don’t we meet up? It’ll be better to discuss this face to face, rather than on the phone. Are you still living near Chelmsford?’ ‘Yes.’ I picture how a meeting would go between us, and how awkward it might be, my body shudders. I try and squash the panic building inside me, but what if I do see Michelle and she totally shuts me down, what if she refuses to help? ‘Okay, I can meet you there at the weekend if that suits you? I’m literally up to my eyeballs at the moment, so I can’t do anything until Saturday,’ she says. Until Saturday. That’s three days away. What if it’s too late by then? ‘It’ll be great to see you.’ I can’t believe it. I reminisce about the times we spent together, and how much I miss her company. Perhaps if we do meet up, it could be the chance to rekindle what we once had, if she doesn’t think I’m insane. ‘In the meantime, while you’re at work, try and see if you can discreetly get a photograph of him, so I can take a look at it. I really need to get a clear idea of what he looks like. Where do you work by the way?’ ‘Axel Insurance, in Brentwood,’ I reply. ‘I’ve been there for five years now.’   ‘So you never did go down the publishing route then, that’s a shame. We were always discussing books, weren’t we, and scorning film adaptations.’ This is the first hint she’s interested in my life now. Before I have the chance to answer her, she’s back to business. ‘Okay. I’ll think of somewhere we can meet. I’ll text you closer to the time. I’ve got to go as I’ve just got to get something out of the oven. We’ll talk soon, okay, just try and keep calm.’ ‘Sure, whatever.’ I gulp back a lungful of air. The line goes dead. I squeeze my eyes shut as I blink back tears. I can’t let what’s happening now ruin my life. *********************** 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

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