Clopwyck River - revised version

Chapter Ten

I was too worried that Leo might come after me at the hospital to wait for a lift from Andrew so I walked home, which seemed like a great idea until I'd been walking for half an hour and realised it was at least another forty five minutes until I'd get home.
​Although the cold reduced my burning cheeks and the walk helped to dissipate the Leo-induced adrenaline that was pumping through my body, I admitted defeat and asked Andrew to come and pick me up.
​I finish scrubbing my hospital germ covered hands and go down to the kitchen. I'm about to walk in when I stop behind the door, leaning in to listen to the lowered voices of two people trying to have a discreet argument.
​"I think it did her good. She met her friend there, so she wasn't alone."
​"I don't care. I told you I didn't want her going, but you just can't be the bad guy can you? Can't you see that the only reason she wants to see Ben is because of what happened with her and Mum?"
Daria's words have made me clench my fists. What the hell does she know about that night with Mum? She's never even spoken to me about it.
​"Maybe that's part of it, Daria, but she had an experience with Ben and she needs closure. She just wants to make sure he's okay, but if it helps her process what happened with her Mum, then surely that's a good thing?"
The saucepans clunk together as they get thrown in the sink, and I wait a few seconds to make sure the argument has finished before I walk in. Daria doesn't even turn to look at me as I sit down at the table.
"Um, sorry I was late. It took longer than I thought to walk."
"We saved you a plate. Next time just let me know if you're not going to be here." Daria says.
"Sorry."
I look at Andrew, who winks at me and I feel slightly less guilty. I turn my
attention to Elliot in his booster seat, banging his knife and fork against the table. His chin is covered in mashed potato and he has a couple of peas caught in his mop of hair.
​"Hey, buddy. What did you do today?"
​He beams at me, dropping his knife and fork and banging the table with his fists instead. I'm not sure he should be doing that, and look to Andrew for reassurance who seems to be ignoring the percussion on the table and I decide it must be okay.
​"Plaaaaaaayed!"
​Of course he did, he's three.
"Wow, lucky you."
​"What you did, Dem-dem?"
​"Well, I went to school, and then I went to see someone at the hospital."
​The banging stops and Elliot's little eyebrows tilt up in concern. "Why's they in the hospital?"
​Great, Demi, give the poor kid nightmares. "Oh, nothing to worry about, just because they were a little poorly and need some medicine."
​"But when are they going home, Dem-dem?"
Daria sighs loudly then clangs the saucepans into the sink. I grimace, then pat one of Elliot's sticky hands.
​"They'll be home soon, Elliot, don't worry."
​He goes back to his banging and his concern is all forgotten within seconds.
​Andrew turns to me, lowering his voice. "So how was Ben? Any change?" I shake my head. "Poor lad, I'm sure he's going to be okay though, Demi. Was his Dad with him?"
​"Uh, no, his brother was. Leo."
​More loud crashes in the sink.
​"Um, would it be okay if I had dinner later? I was hoping to go for a run and it's starting to get dark."
​Andrew and Daria exchange looks and Andrew scratches his chin. "I'm not sure, Demi. After what happened the other night I don't really like the idea of you going out alone."
​"I won't be alone, that boy, Leo, said he'd meet me and we can run together."
​Lies, lies, lies.
​"Ooh, boys on the horizon already eh?"
Elliot joins in with a long 'ooh'. Before I can respond, Daria speaks without looking up.
   ​"I don't want you out meeting boys you hardly know."
"Leo's fine Daria, he's a good lad." Andrew says. 
The plates and cutlery in the sink crash together even louder than they were before.
"Mummy noisy!" Elliot puts his hands over his ears and closes his eyes.
   ​"Elliot, it's ok. Elliot, buddy! Demi he can't hear me, do you mind? Just tell him it's ok."
   ​I lean over and gently put my hand on his soft arm. His blue eyes blink open and a huge smile spreads across his chubby cheeks.
   ​"It's ok, see? No more banging."
   ​He removes his hands from his ears. "No more banging, Dem-dem." He struggles down from his chair. "Me come running too."
   ​"No buddy, you stay here, Demi's got a hot date." Another loud crack from the sink. "Just kidding. Its fine Demi, you go. Make friends. Have a good time."
***
Before I left I found the head torch that managed to survive my plunge into the water, and pulled the strap over my head. I took my new phone off charge and scrolled through the scattering of contacts that Andrew must have added after he picked it up for me today. At least I have someone to call if I run into any crazy old women or come across anyone else on a suicide mission.
​The ink of the night has distinguished any trace of the sun, and I run into the night, each of my footsteps pounding me further and further away from my mind. I'm not stupid enough to take the route through the woods this time, but I follow the soft glow of the streetlamps until they take me to a shadowy public footpath, probably popular with ramblers and dog walkers.
​I pause at the opening of the path for a moment, then turn on my headlamp which bathes my way in bright white light.  I flick through some songs on my phone and then tread up the path, the moon and the stars blinking at me on my way.
​After a few minutes I curse myself for my obsession with being alone. The trees to my side loom over me like giants, their claws reaching down to grab me as I run past. The hedgerow to my other side feels like it's closing in on me, trying to trip me up and pull be down to the ground. I can see a few meters in front of me, but it's like I'm in a tunnel, the darkness threatening to close in and choke me with each step. The feeling of unease I had in the woods the other night before I met the old women is tapping me on my shoulder. The thought of her makes my hairs stand on end, and I pull out one of my earbuds, my free ear listening out for crazy old stalkers.
I'm sure I can hear someone behind me, and I pick up my pace, even though it's probably just footsteps of my own imagination. Warm breath tingles the skin on the back of my neck, a male voice shouts something, and a hand brushes my shoulder. I brake on my heels and wheel around with a clenched fist, smacking my attacker right in the nose. He falls backwards onto the ground, both of his hands pressed against his face. I train the light onto him as he pulls his hands from his nose and looks at the blood that's trickled into his palms. He frowns up at me.
"What the hell is the matter with you?! Are you crazy?"
I stare into the face of my attacker, and recognise those blinking, bright blue eyes immediately.
​I've just punched my crush in the face. And he looks really, really annoyed about it.