The Pretenders (ON HOLD)

Chapter 17

Wendy stared at the cell phone in her hand. Peter saw all the colour drain from her face. Her dark hair stood out in stark contrast to her now pale skin.

Almost not wanting to know the answer Peter asked, "Who was it?"

It took Wendy a few seconds to register his question. Even when she did, there was something stopping her from telling him. It was like a part of her, although little compared to the part of her that wanted to tell him everything, was keeping her mouth shut. Maybe she feared for him. As much as she feared for herself.

"It was just a wrong number," she finally said, her voice shaking. She could see that he didn't believe her for one second.

"Wendy," he said more forcefully, "who was it?"

Wendy stood up, getting ready to leave, only to fall back down again. Her legs were trembling and she was lightheaded. After a short assessment of her bodily functions, Wendy realised she wouldn't be leaving for another few minutes.

"It was nobody," she said, trying to steady her voice, "don't worry about it."

"Wendy, tell me who spoke to you on the phone just now," he said, a hint of frustration in his voice.

"Forget about it."

"No, Wendy, you have to tell me!" Peter yelled suddenly. The urgency in his voice wasn't from anger though.

It was from fear.

Immediately he felt bad for yelling. He saw the distressed look on Wendy's face and his tone softened. He placed a hand her shoulder and in her nervous state she instinctively jerked away. But then leaned in for a hug instead.

This level of closeness took Peter by surprise but he welcomed her embrace.

Her head was leaning on his shoulder as she shook with fear. She was so close to him he only had to whisper when he said, "Just tell me Wendy and I'll make sure nothing bad happens. I promise."

Her voice quivering, she replied, "I don't know who it was."

Peter pulled away so he could see her face. He looked into her beautiful blue eyes and asked as gently as possible, "What did they say?"

Wendy looked sorry when she shook her head to show that she wasn't going to tell him. Then she paused and hesitantly whispered, "Someone's after you Peter. And I fear they are much more devious than you can imagine. Even the sound of his voice has left me unable to walk from terror."

Peter nodded, his jaw clenched. He pushed Wendy gently away from him. Turning his gaze to the distant hills, he sat in silence for almost a minute. Then as if he had come to a decision, he stood and stiffly offered a hand to help Wendy up. She could something was troubling him deeply by the way he kept avoiding her eyes.

"I'll walk you home," he said quietly, the pain in his voice poorly hidden. They walked in complete silence until they reached her house.

Then Peter turned and said, with apologetic eyes, "Goodbye Wendy."

And somehow Wendy knew something had broken that line of friendship between them. Somehow she knew that when Peter had said goodbye, he meant goodbye forever.

The sun filtered through the closed blinds, creating thin lines of light across Simon's face. Beneath his eyelids, Simon saw shapeless orange figures dancing around on a yellow background. He lost himself in his sleep, forgetting what was real and what wasn't. Often he would put his hand in his pocket, reaching for money he remembered someone had given him, then realising he had dreamt the money up.

It was disappointing at times. He would wake up excited, thinking he had won something, then realising he had only been dreaming. So he would close his eyes; try to go back to that happy place. But no matter how hard you try, you cannot revisit a dream.

Then there were the nightmares. But he never tried to revisit those. He didn't want to.

Sometimes he would forget what it was to be awake or asleep. He would just simply exist. But then his mind would start working properly and sort his thoughts out. And before he knew it, he would be staring groggily at the bathroom mirror with his hair sticking up in all directions.

But there were times like now, where he just didn't want to wake up. He just wanted to watch the funny orange blobs wriggle around. Eventually, though, he got bored of sleeping and so consequently let his eyes flutter open, only to have to close them again due to the blinding white walls.

This time he carefully, slowly opened his eyes. Turning on his side, he quickly remembered his injuries. Wincing in pain, he began to remember where he was. He looked around his hospital room and found his father sleeping uncomfortably in a chair.

And on his left, he saw a note from Wendy. His sides hurt to much to reach over and read it but he guessed what it was about. He spotted another note, though, resting on a brand new watch. This one had been placed close enough to him that it didn't hurt too much to reach over and pick it up.

He had to squint without his contact lenses but he saw that the small typed note read 'for Simon'. He smiled, happy that Wendy was back to normal and doing nice things like leaving him wristwatches.

Examining the time piece, he decided he liked it very much. So, smiling contentedly, he strapped it on.

What he didn't know was that somewhere close, a dark hearted man was smiling too.