‘Spencer, it’s me…’ She broke off, unable to carry on because her throat was so tight, and she had to concentrate on getting the next words out. ‘I love you, Spencer. I know you always laughed at the idea of soul mates,but you were mine. Youaremine. And I miss you so much… Sometimes, I feel as if I’m never going to feel normal again. Strike that, because I feel that wayallthe time. And how could I go back to normal without you, anyway? I’m not sure how I go on living and breathing without you as it is.’
A sudden wave of emotion hit her. Not something crashing over her from the outside, but something rising up from within.
‘And I’m angry with you for that! I’m cross that you left me here alone, like it’s some big joke. Like you’re going to jump out from behind a corner and shout: “Only kidding!” But it’s not funny anymore, Spencer! It’s just not funny. So stop it, you hear me? Stop it. Because I want you back.’ She hiccupped in a breath and then let out a sob. Her voice dropped to a whisper. ‘Please come back.’
No reply.
Gluey tears had collected under her lashes and she wiped them away with her hands. ‘Please talk to me.’ She waited. Seconds ground past. Still there was no response on the other end of the line, but she could feel him there. She really could.
‘Spencer?’ she eventually said. It felt as if she was tiptoeing beyond the edges of life, of what was real. Maybe the rules were different there. Maybe she shouldn’t take some things for granted. ‘Can you hear me? Do you even remember me? It’s Anna…’
Please,she whispered silently, not knowing if she was appealing to Spencer or God, or the night around her.Please, let there be someone there. I feel so alone.
She waited for him to say her name, waited for him to say it in that soft, sexy way he always had when he’d picked up one of her calls,as if he had a special smile just for her.Anna, he’d say, and he’d load that one word with everything he felt for her. He wouldn’t have even needed to tell her he loved her each day, even though he always had. Just hearing her name on his lips would have been enough.
And then it happened. What she’d been waiting for happened.
‘Anna?’
Chapter Eight
ANNA.
He’d said her name, but it wasn’t soft and warm and full of smiles. Just a word repeated because it made no sense to the person speaking it. Anna felt as if someone had tipped a bucket of ice water over her head.
Oh, my God! What am I doing?
She ended the call, dropped the phone, then sprang off the sofa and stood at the opposite side of the room, trembling. She turned so she didn’t have to look at the screen and found herself facing the small sideboard. She flung one of the doors open to reveal several dusty bottles of whisky. Spencer’s whisky. She pulled out a tumbler and reached for a bottle, bypassing the smooth Highland Park for the Lagavulin. She needed earthy, peaty tones and a fire in the back of her throat. She half-filled the glass, knocked it back in one go, then shuddered.
By the time she was at the bottom of her second glass, she wasn’t quite as mortified as she had been half an hour earlier. In fact, she was starting to feel much more philosophical about the whole thing. So much so, that she reached over, picked up her phone and dialled the number again.
There was no mechanical voicemail message, just a hesitant silence on the other end of the line.
‘I’m sorry. I know…’ she said, hoping the edges of the words weren’t blurring into each other too much. And then, when all that came back was a soft grunt, she added, ‘I know you’re not him… That you’re not Spencer…’ She broke off again to cough back a sob as the truth of that realization hit her a second time, as ridiculous as it was to have even considered it in the first place. ‘I just wanted to say that I’m sorry. For phoning in the middle of the night – twice now! – and rambling on like I’ve become unhinged.’
Another soft grunt. But there might have been the merest smidge of a smile behind this one.
‘I’m not unhinged. I’m just… Just…’
There was a heavy masculine sigh.
‘I don’t know what I am,’ she ended weakly.
For a few seconds it was very quiet, and Anna was half-expecting to hear it deaden, for that silence, that gap in a conversation when no one says anything, to become the blankness of no one else being there at all, but then she heard him take a breath, readying himself to speak. ‘You haven’t lost your mind,’ he said.
His voice was rich and warm and certain. Anna was tempted to believe him, even though she wasn’t sure it was the truth. Reality had been a hazy concept for a long time now. ‘How do you know? After all, I’m talking to a stranger in the middle of the night.’
‘Life… isn’t always easy,’ he replied slowly. It seemed as if he was picking his words carefully, not because he didn’t have the conversational skills, quite the reverse. She had a feeling that this man was always careful with his words,always weighed them and used them sparingly. ‘Things happen… Things you couldn’t ever have predicted. And when they do, it can throw you, turn you upside down and your life takes a very different path.’
Anna held her breath. How did he know? Was there something strange and supernatural going on here after all? It seemed as if he’d peered inside her skull and recited back to her all the things she was thinking and feeling but could never tell anyone.
‘And when life changes suddenly and unexpectedly,’ he continued, ‘there’s a grieving of what was and what never can be again. I would call that being human.’
That all sounded very logical, which was reassuring. He could just be telling her what she wanted to hear, of course, to get the hysterical woman off the phone, but even so, his words had the weight of truth about them. Of experience.
‘Areyouhuman?’ she wanted to ask, but she’d already subjected this poor man to a hefty dollop of her stupidity; he probably didn’t need more. She swallowed the question and took a different tack. ‘Thank you,’ she whispered. ‘And sorry… I won’t ring again.’ And then, because it seemed rude not to, she added, ‘Goodnight.’
A pause, as if he was considering her words, as simple as they had been. ‘Goodnight… Anna.’
