The Devil Inside, page 14
Mikhail held her closer. Whispered in her ear, so close she barely heard, ‘Don’t listen to the voices. Sing the song. The one your papochka taught you. But quiet. In your head. The voices can’t hurt you if you do that.’
She nodded against his neck so he’d know she was doing what he asked, and began to sing the song Papochka had taught her. The one to block out the angry voices of the men who came too often to their house and upset Mamochka.
Soon the song was all she could hear. A song of hope. A song of longing. A song of lo—
She sat up abruptly, clutching at her chest, cheeks wet. It took her a moment to realise she’d been woken by the insistent ringing of her phone on the bedside table. She grabbed it, answering before she could think not to. ‘Hello?’
Breathing. Harsh. Heavy.
She rolled her eyes. She was really in no mood for a sexual harassment call. ‘Listen dick for brains, if you don’t hang up no—’
‘Ty pomnit, sestra? Ty dolzhen pomnit. Ili yeshche.’
‘Remember what? Or else what?’ she hissed, but whoever it was had already hung up. She stared at the phone, then quickly tapped on recent contacts. There was a call there—the number was hidden—but it was proof of a call. Proof that she wasn’t going nuts and making things up.
She scrambled out of bed. She needed to show someone. No, she should take a screen shot first.
The screen had already gone blank. She tapped it and opened the phone with her thumbprint again and …
There was nothing in recent contacts.
No. That couldn’t be right. She’d seen it. It had been there. She turned the phone off then on and repeated the process, but the phone stayed as blank as before.
What. The. Ever-loving. Fuck?
She rubbed her head—it ached. She’d barely noticed when she’d woken. Maybe something was going on in her head. Maybe there was something wrong. Perhaps she should tell someone about all this. Alan? No. He’d want to do tests. Phil? No. He’d worry more. Jerry?
Yes. She’d mention it to Jerry. He wouldn’t automatically jump to poking and prodding in hospital or wanting to talk about her deepest thoughts. And she’d ask him not to mention it to Phil—no reason to make him worried his wife was truly losing the plot until they knew it for a certainty.
She lay back down, determined to try to go back to sleep, but sleep wouldn’t come.
Perhaps she should go and get herself some hot milk. That was Mama’s remedy for sleepless nights. Yes. And maybe she’d add some Kahlua to it. A hot chocolate without the chocolate—that’s what Phil had always called it.
The sudden knowing had her sitting up with a jerk. She searched the knowing, trying to find a memory of him saying it, but there wasn’t one. Just the knowledge that it was true.
She rubbed her head, the ache more pronounced now. Maybe she’d forget the Kahlua and just grab some painkillers.
She pulled on a light dressing gown and padded out into the hall, grateful the lights flickered on the moment she walked out—Lexi loved her sensor lights. They were everywhere in the building. A fact Melissa was ever grateful for.
Her foot was on the first stair to go up to the kitchen when she heard it. A small cry, a wail. A door opening. Footsteps padding down the hall, the wail getting louder and then softer again.
Arwen.
Her baby.
She was crying.
Why was she crying?
Should she go and see if she could help Phil?
She probably should.
A light flickered on upstairs. Arwen’s wailing was quite loud now. She stepped back, her breath quickening in her chest.
Kitchen noises drifted down to her, interrupted by Arwen’s crying—cupboard doors opening and closing, the microwave beeping, a tap running. And she could hear a soft humming, deep and rich. Singing? Phil was singing to the baby?
Another voice. Much lighter. Craig.
They were speaking quietly but the tenor of their voices carried, so that even while she couldn’t hear their precise words, she could tell the conversation was emotional.
She should go back to her room. Or join them. But instead of ascending the stairs, she backed into the downstairs lounge area and found refuge in the corner of the large sectional sofa. The light they’d turned on upstairs filtered down so she wasn’t in the dark. Not that she’d been in the dark anyway. Silvery moonlight shone through the large windows behind her, lighting the area enough so her fear of the dark didn’t tighten her chest, roil in her stomach, prickle across her skin.
The voices got louder—they must have moved from the kitchen and were sitting at the lounge chairs that were close to the balcony.
Now she could hear every word.
‘You should go back to bed.’
‘I’m awake now and as we discussed yesterday, I want you to wake me up to ask for help. Guess it’s going to take a bit of time before you man up and do that.’
‘Man up? I wouldn’t call this manning-up. It’s a middle of the night feed. Nothing that begs for help here. Besides, I love feeding her.’
‘I know.’ Craig appeared at the balcony, staring out at the scenery for a moment before turning to lean against the rails. Melissa curled further into the shadow of the lounge she sat in, but he didn’t once look down. ‘But you can ask for us to help do some of the night feeds if you want. I just wanted to make sure you understood that.’
‘I do. Thanks. But I still don’t like the thought of waking you up.’
Craig waved his hand. ‘I was up anyway; working a song out of my system.’
‘Really? It’s been a while since you wrote a song.’
‘Your princess has been a bit of an inspiration. Lexi and Dae have been writing music like fiends. Between us, we’ve got enough for another album. I wouldn’t mind your input on some of the tunes I’ve been coming up with. I’m not settled on the mood and some jamming with the beats would help.’ There was a clatter and Craig pushed away from the balcony. ‘You okay?’
‘Yep, fine. Just a bit tired-clumsy.’
‘Here. So, what do you think?
‘About what?’
‘Helping me out? Can you fit some time in tomorrow?’
A loud sigh. ‘As I said to you the other day, mate, I’m a bit busy at the moment.’
‘I know. But as I said, you can have a break. We’re all here to help and we want to. All you need to do is ask.’
‘I get that. But the thing is, what I most want to do is spend time with Arwen. And Mel of course. Prof Alan said it was really important for her to do regular things like she used to every day. We went to the stables yesterday to see the horses and we’re going to do that again—maybe even go for a gentle ride, see if anything on one of the trails we used to ride can help jog her memory.’
Craig appeared at the balcony again, arms crossed as he leaned against the rails. ‘But surely you don’t need to spend every moment of every day with her?’
‘I love her. It’s not a burden.’
‘Of course not. But you’ve never gone this long without drumming before.’
‘Mel and Arwen are my focus at the moment, okay?’
Craig rubbed his jaw then scraped his hand through his hair. ‘Okay. But remember, if you feel the need, I’m here. We all are.’
‘I know.’
Craig nodded, pushed away from the balcony again. ‘Did I tell you that Mum and Dad are coming up here for a visit in a few weeks with Billy and Cat when they come back?’
‘That’s great. It will be so nice to see them again. Mel always got along so well with your mum. Maybe seeing Sarah will help to jog her memories.’
‘That’d be great, wouldn’t it?’ A long pause. ‘What about your family? No word from them about coming out and meeting their new grandchild and niece?’
There was a groan of floorboards and then Phil appeared at the balcony next to Craig, Arwen against his shoulder. ‘They’re happy with photos for now.’
Craig shook his head as he turned to look out the window. ‘Man, that’s shit. They should have been here. Times like these, you need family the most. It’s time someone tells them just how shit they are.’
Craig pulled his phone out of his pocket. Phil grabbed his hand before he could dial. ‘Don’t.’
‘They need to be told, Phil. I get that you don’t want to rock the boat, but shit mate, they should have made an effort.’
‘That’s not their way.’
‘It’s their way with Philippa.’
Phil shrugged. ‘Of course it is. She doesn’t embarrass them.’
‘You’re more of a success than she is.’
‘Not to them.’ Phil sighed heavily. ‘Look, I don’t want them here, so can you drop it.’
‘They’re your family, Phil.’
Phil shook his head. ‘My family is here.’
Craig held still for a moment, then put his arm around Phil’s shoulders. ‘We feel the same way.’
Phil nodded, jerkily. ‘I know.’ Arwen chose that moment to let out a loud burp. The two men laughed. ‘I guess that’s her thought about it.’
Craig scrubbed at his chin, still chuckling. ‘You know, Melissa would have been all over their arses over this.’
Phil huffed out a laugh. ‘I know. She was never shy about giving my parents a piece of her mind. Remember the first time she met them? Before we were even together?’
Craig snorted. ‘I’m hardly likely to forget. She said shit I’d wanted to say for years.’
Phil nodded, glancing down. Melissa stilled worried he’d see her but he didn’t, returning to look at his mate. ‘I actually felt grateful to them in that moment.’
‘Shit. Why? They were so horrible.’
‘Because Mel said seeing how my parents treated me was what made her truly see me. Made her realise I wasn’t who she thought I was. It changed everything.’
Craig chuckled and shook his head. ‘She already saw you. Hell, she saw you a lot. She barely looked at Dae and me for all the seeing you she was doing.’
Phil moved Arwen to cradle her in his arms. ‘That’s not true.’
‘You wanna bet? She might not have admitted it right off, but it was clear she was attracted. Right from the first.’
‘She hated my guts.’
‘Never. She couldn’t peg you, that was all, and she didn’t like that one bit. Meeting your parents turned her around more quickly perhaps, but she would have come around eventually. It was always on the cards for the both of you, man. Anyone who saw you together could see it. Nigel used to talk all the time about hearing wedding bells whenever you were in a room together.’
Phil turned away.
‘You okay, man?’ Phil didn’t answer. Craig clapped him on the shoulder and said quietly, ‘She’ll remember.’
Phil turned so that she could see his face in the light and oh hell, his expression. She bit her lip against a sob as he said, ‘What if she doesn’t?’
‘She will.’
‘You can’t know that.’ He shook his head, sniffed hard, then swiped at his face—he was crying? She clutched at her chest. ‘She might never remember. The things she’s painting—not one of them is of anything I can remember of us together. It’s almost like she doesn’t want to remember.’
Melissa shook her head.
‘That’s not true.’
Phil paced away from the balcony, his footsteps echoing on the wooden floorboards in the sudden silence. ‘She might never remember herself as anything other than the woman who looked at me and saw nothing that was worth her while.’
‘She never saw that.’
‘You don’t know that.’
‘I do. She told me.’
‘What? When?’ Phil appeared back at the balcony, gaze intent on his friend.
Craig scraped his jaw again and shrugged. ‘One night, after a show. Dae was about to head off to make it up to Darla because she was having one of her jealous fits, and you’d said something to him about needing to stand up to her shit, and he’d stormed off. You shrugged it off and went to jam and party with some of the stage crew and Melissa and I were left with a bottle of vodka and our gear to pack.’
‘Vodka? Mel doesn’t drink vodka.’
‘And I know why. It loosens her tongue like nothing I’ve seen before. Wow, man, the things that came out of her that night still blow my mind when I think about them.’
‘Like what?’
‘Stuff about her past and memories she has of being young and fleeing from somewhere in the middle of the night and her parents talking in another language and hearing them whisper late at night and finding some photos of someone who looked almost exactly like her and being told it was her aunt and then the photos disappearing and she never found them again. Weird shit. Which is why I remember it so well.’
Craig’s words were like a kick in the gut. She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to catch her breath as the conversation continued above her.
‘She never told me any of that.’
‘Probably because she didn’t actively remember any of it. She looked at me as if I was delusional when I mentioned it the next day. It was like it was shit she’d locked away from herself and the vodka let it out.’
‘Okay,’ Phil said, drawing out the word. ‘But what does any of that have to do with me?’
‘Because one of the things she said was how much she wanted to grab you and kiss you and tear your clothes off.’ Melissa’s skin prickled and her face was suddenly hot. ‘She wanted to run her hands over—’ Craig shook his hand as he pretended to gag. ‘Sorry, man. Thinking about that is like thinking about my parents together. Ugh.’ He shuddered hard then laughed when Phil leaned forward and hit him on the shoulder. ‘Ow, what was that for?’
‘Me and Mel together is a beautiful thing.’
‘To you. It’s not something I want to think about. And hearing that from Melissa that night was TMI. If I hadn’t had a few shots of vodka under my belt when she started down that track, I think I would have yacked. Or run away screaming.’
‘You’re so funny, man. A real crack-up.’
‘I know. It’s hard to be both the best looking one in the band and the funniest, but someone’s got to do it.’
Phil snorted. ‘Now I want to yack.’ Melissa would have too, but she was still reeling from what Craig had said about her vodka-fuelled memories.
Arwen made a soft cooing sound, her hands waving. Both men looked down at her. Phil kissed her cheek and Craig ran his hand over her head. ‘She’s so beautiful, mate. And you’re a really great dad. She’s lucky to have you.’
Phil nodded jerkily. ‘I need to put this little princess back to bed.’
He disappeared, his footsteps a padding sound which stopped suddenly as Craig said, ‘She wanted you from the start. That’s not going to change, even if she can’t remember what you had together.’
‘I don’t just want her to want me.’
‘I know.’ Craig moved from the balcony. She wanted to move to see what was happening but couldn’t give herself away. She craned her head, listening intently, their voices softer, but still carrying. ‘She’ll remember,’ Craig said. ‘And if she doesn’t, you’ll have what many of us never get a chance at. To woo the love of your life all over again.’
‘Woo? Since when do you use the word, “woo”.’
‘Since Cat made me watch the entire series of Pride and Prejudice with her. It was pretty good. You should check it out. Might give you a few ideas.’
Phil’s chuckle danced on the air. ‘Thanks. Although, from memory, Darcy’s way of “wooing” Lizzie was bloody horrid at first.’
‘You know it?’
‘Of course I know it. I have a wife.’
‘That you do. You just need to find a way back to each other, that’s all.’
‘If having a baby together can’t do it, I don’t know what can. Lightning doesn’t strike twice.’
Melissa frowned. That was a strange thing to say.
‘You’ll figure it out. Go. Put the princess to bed. I’ll wash the bottle and turn out the lights.’
She wrapped her arms around her body, hot tears burning in her eyes as the sounds of Craig washing up the bottle drifted down to her. The lights turned off a few seconds later followed by the soft click of a door.
She was alone.
Their words spun in her mind.
She took in a deep, shuddering breath, close to a sob. The sound seemed to free something that had been wedged inside her for days. She buried her face in the cushion she’d been holding in her lap and cried like she couldn’t remember crying ever before. She sobbed and wailed and clenched the cushion tight, as if holding onto it could anchor her when it felt like nothing could, like she was being tossed from one wave to the next, never knowing if she was going to stay afloat or be sucked down into the dark depths.
She was frightened. So frightened.
She’d told Craig some things when she was drunk on vodka that sounded so very close to the flashes of memory she was having now. But that wasn’t the only thing causing this feeling.
Phil. He loved her so much. She knew it, but until tonight, she’d not really felt it, what it meant. But who did he love? Her or his Mel? Was she the same person? How could she be when she didn’t have that Mel’s memories?
She wasn’t even sure if she could or ever would feel the way her old self felt or want what she wanted even if she could remember because there was this now, this reality, where she had these strange memories of her parents and other people, of secrets and lies. It changed everything. Put a spanner in the works, making her think differently about who she was and what she wanted.
But saying that, admitting it, would hurt so many people who didn’t deserve that hurt.
Especially Phil.
And Arwen. Not that her daughter would know anything yet, but one day she would. If her mum was never there for her, one day she’d have to be told and the telling would hurt and until then, Arwen would feel the absence of her mother.
Just like Melissa always had.
The thought made her gasp and sit bolt upright, her tears and sobs stopped in their tracks as her mind hiccupped over that errant thought once again.
