'Sacmis' (formerly 'Alien Abduction')

Chapter 1: The Lawyer

Laura ran out into the night, slamming the door to the mews flat behind her. Tears streamed down her face as she walked blindly down the cobbled London street, oblivious to the light rain that had started to fall.

Two years, she said to herself bitterly, two years wasted on that complete - fool! 

Yet the relationship with Jake had started with such promise.

They had met in Crown Court, both juniors for their respective teams, she for the defence, he for the prosecution. It had been a painfully boring fraud trial and when his team lost the case, she had asked him out for a consolatory drink – and while she thought he was not unattractive in a rather stiff English way -  she didn't feel there was any chemistry there. 

So she was surprised when, the next day, he called to ask her to dinner the following Saturday. Since she had no other plans – and there was currently nobody else making demands on her time – she agreed. Besides, she was just a tiny bit impressed that he had actually called rather than just texted.

He had chosen a popular French restaurant in Monmouth Street and, arriving late, she scanned the tables looking for him. There was only one table with a single male sitting at it and she had looked directly at it twice before she realised, with a surprise, that it was him. She had never seen him out of his legal robes and the man who sat there seemed altogether different and - she was forced to admit to herself - rather more interesting than he had looked in court.

With his change of clothes also went a change of personality. Gone was the rather formal, slightly deferential junior barrister and in his place was a comfortable, pleasantly relaxed dinner companion, with very engaging grey-green eyes and lashes many women would kill for. 

In a gradually unfolding and mutual exchange of small confidences, she had learned quite early in the evening that he had felt intimidated by her - which was something of a shock – since she had always felt that 'approachable' was burned into her CV. She made a mental note to mull that one over when she got home.

The meal was a success – it was obvious they both felt it – and there was the additional reassurance for Laura that they were clearly equal professionally and financially. Junior barristers from even moderately successful chambers like theirs earned very high salaries and, more than once before, men she had dated had found it difficult to come to terms with her greater spending power, even though she tried hard never to flaunt it.

So when, at the end of the meal, she offered to pay her half and was turned down, she didn't have to think even for a moment before saying 'Next one's on me' 'I'll hold you to that,' he had replied, both knowing that the agreement was really about seeing each other again, not whose credit card would be on the plate.

Now , two years on and - alarmingly - her 30th birthday passed - all that early promise lay in ruins. It had been a slow realisation on her part that he was entirely comfortable with the way things were. Which meant week-end stopovers at each other's flats and even holidays together, but little progress beyond that. He told her he loved her – as she did him - but for the last six months, it had begun to feel to Laura as if some sort of crucial turning point had slipped past unnoticed and an alarming comfort-factor had crept in. When, from time to time - and she thought subtly – she had talked about their moving in together, she had sensed a reluctance on his part. 

Yet everything had been so right about their relationship. They both accepted without question the anti-social demands of their shared profession, were completely relaxed and open in each other's company, shared many interests in common, enjoyed - and were enjoyed by - each other's friends and – yes - the sex was good. If she was totally, totally honest he was no gold medal winner in the bedroom stakes, but he was a consistent bronze and very occasional silver, which was still better than her previous lovers.

Jake, like most 21st Century urban males, knew his way round the female anatomy, but there was frequently something just a little technical in his approach, as if he were mentally ticking off the boxes in some manual. 

Thorough, was the word that most came to mind when she thought about Jake's lovemaking. But hey, thorough was alright. A girl could more than get by on thorough.

So that evening, hating herself even as the words came out, she had asked him where he thought their relationship was leading. His reply of 'What do you mean?' told her most of what she needed – yet dreaded – to know.

But it was the second part of his answer that completely floored her when he declared, quite casually, that maybe they should take a break from each other, 'date other people for a while.' Saying it in a generous tone of voice that suggested she might welcome the idea and be grateful he had suggested it. In that moment, Laura realised that despite all the things that were really good about their relationship, despite the shared profession, shared friends, shared interests and shared bed, they had both been living on entirely different planets.

Now, slipping along on the wet cobbles of the mews, her strongest emotion was one of panic. If she had mis-read the signs so completely this time, might she do exactly the same next time. That's if there ever was a next time. 'Were all men like this, so – so – unreadable?

Absorbed by this terrible realisation, she failed at first to notice the slight shimmer in the air and the hum that accompanied it. But in the next few moments, both became so oppressive that she was forced to take notice. 

Immediately in front of her, it was if the night air had become charged with static, distorting the shapes of the houses on the other side of the street and twisting the streetlights into weird shapes that loomed upwards into the night. The humming noise grew louder and louder until she felt her eardrums would burst. Her legs began to give beneath her and she realised she was losing consciousness. The last thing she saw – or thought she saw – before her legs gave entirely beneath her was the shape of a man stepping out of the static to catch her.

© Adriana Nicolas 2014