Nicky Shearsby

It had been a day like all the rest. Another humdrum mid-week working day whereby nothing significant had happened that would make me believe for one moment that I might remember it at all. I drove home after an incredibly intense gym workout, singing along to songs on the radio I barely remembered the words to, not caring that I probably sounded utterly out of tune and slightly erratic. I tapped the steering wheel in time to the beat and performed loudly within the confines of my car, noticing nothing of how I must have looked to any passer-by, nodding my head with the music, the sight of me a probable source of amusement for all. Although my usual daily routine consisted of eight tedious hours that banded together to form my working day, my mind was permanently elsewhere these days. My thoughts were set firmly on a future unconfirmed by even the most psychic of positive thinkers. It was a future I had convinced myself could be achievable if I focused enough, simply committing my mind and body to the potential outcome it may just afford me.

Motocross was a sport that had given me something I hadn’t expected to experience over the last couple of years. I felt alive when I was out on the track because I was completely and utterly free to be the person I enjoyed being when I was amid an adrenaline-fueled race. It was exhilarating, and as time passed and I became better at it, motocross became the one thing I found myself thinking consistently about. The mere notion that I could swap my humdrum existence for something far better kept me motivated to the point where I was pushing my body beyond the limitations of normal acceptance.

I ignored health warnings from everyone around me, including medics and personal trainers, because as far as I was concerned, my success would be the one thing that would make all my hard work worthwhile. I was pushing my body hard and did not for a single moment allow myself to believe that this elusive future could be anything other than well within my grasp.

Looking back, it seems almost surreal to think how quickly time escapes us, and the confident nineteen-year-old I had been at that point now seems a distant memory that I have almost forgotten. Some people say that life is made up of milestones, collections of memories that take us back to the times when we were most happy. For me, it was the simple feeling of exhilaration moments before a race began. It reflected a time when I had no commitments, no worries, and no fear of a future uncertain. I loved motocross. With no responsibilities and absolutely no regard for anything other than being alive, it is a time in my life that I will always reserve a special place.

I was oblivious to the drive home that night, focused only on how I could get my body into the best physical shape of my life. I knew I needed to concentrate hard over the upcoming winter months to ready myself for what I hoped would be the season to see me sign with Honda and begin earning a professional living as a fully insured motocross sportsman. More to the point, it meant I could quit my nine-to-five job for good and finally live the life I’d been dreaming of for so long. Don’t get me wrong, I didn’t entirely dislike my job. I was actually quite good at what I did. My hard-working ethics ensured that my boss, Andrew, expressed fairness towards me that meant if I needed time off for any reason, he was happy to extend me the courtesy.

I was a young lad, lucky to have a job at all at that point and grateful simply to be earning a wage. But I had unwittingly found myself working as a trainee electrical engineer for a back street firm on a tiny industrial estate on the outskirts of Milborough town, where I lived in the Midlands. Despite having left school at sixteen with little in the way of any actual education, mine wasn’t a job I aspired to do for the rest of my life. I was determined, focused, seemingly invincible, and to be quite honest, genuinely happy to be pushing towards an amazingly bright future I’d created in my head. I honestly felt I could make anything happen, simply unable to allow myself to consider any other outcome. I smiled when I thought about how proud Rebecca would be of my forthcoming achievements, knowing that all the training I’d devoted my time to was about to pay off. I was excited and eager to dream of a future unknown, and I knew that I could make anything happen if I worked hard enough.

I was still feeling the buzz of my heightened sense of awareness as I settled down in front of the television with a large plate of chicken salad balancing on my knee. I flicked channels with half-interested intention as I tried to avoid unsavoury glances from my dog, Bella. She had been out for her walk and already had a belly full of leftover chicken that I’d mixed with her dog biscuits.

‘Lie down, please.’ I gave Bella a single nod as she continued to stare at me with her huge brown eyes that attempted to throw me into submission. She grumbled, licked her lips, and begrudgingly laid her head on my foot with a thud.

I ate my meal in relative peace, tidied away my plate, took a well-needed shower, and cleaned the kitchen to a semi-satisfactory state that I hoped would pass as acceptable to any potential visitor. It was getting quite late by this time, so when I heard a knock at the front door, I was a little unnerved and irritated to have been disturbed. Bella instantly ran to the window, barking her usual warnings to any passing stranger that she was in no mood for anyone’s company at such a late hour. Despite her aggressive-looking German Sheppard appearance, her soft and gentle nature meant she would have been no actual match for any serious would-be intruder.

I smiled at the thought as I took her gently by the collar and guided her into the kitchen, closing the door behind me and trying to ignore her tiny whimpers and attempts to reaffirm my attention. It’s funny to think how quickly an elevated mood can alter because in the few seconds it took to walk the length of the hallway and unlock the front door, my calm exhilaration had shifted to one of uncertainty and fear.

I opened the door to the sight of my next-door neighbour standing somewhat uneasily inside my unlit porch. Her slipper-covered feet were soaking up the damp October air as she pulled her dressing gown firmly around her body in an attempt to avoid shivering in the cold.

‘Hi, Jen. Is everything okay?’ I asked. She had a look on her face that immediately caused an uneasy sensation to develop in my stomach. She actually looked as if she was apprehensive about something yet didn’t quite know how to express it.

‘Oh, Craig, thank God,’ she sounded relieved to see me standing in front of her as if fearing I might not be home at all. ‘Grace has just called. She asked if I could get you to drive straight over to the flat now. I’m sorry it’s so late.’

I shared a house with some friends from the motocross club, and as we couldn’t afford a telephone of our own at that time; if anyone needed to contact us, they would simply call next door. Jen was a good neighbour, and the arrangement had always suited us well. It was something she never usually minded. Having little in the way of any family herself, she was often glad of the distraction. Yet I now felt slightly guilty that my poor neighbour, an already ageing woman herself, had probably been forced out of her bed at this hour, purely to contact me. And urgently, it seemed.

‘Why would Grace call so late?’ I glanced at the clock in the hallway, noting it had just turned ten-thirty and wondering what could have been so important that poor old Jen had been disturbed because of it. I hadn’t spoken to either of the girls that day. I would usually drive around to their flat after work to say hi, but today I’d wanted to fit in a session at the gym and subsequently hadn’t allowed enough time to do both. My attention was now firmly caught by the notion that something terrible had happened to two of my closest friends and my chicken salad threatened to make a fresh appearance. ‘Did she tell you what was wrong?’ Something didn’t feel right, and Jen noticed the look of confusion on my face as she smoothed a hair out of her own.

‘No, I’m afraid she wouldn’t tell me what the problem was over the phone, Craig. She just said she’d explain everything to you when you get over there.’ It was evident by the look on her face that Jen had sensed something in Grace’s tone, and it worried me. Grace would rarely need to call the house anyway and would only do so if something required my urgent attention. Something had happened, and it must have been serious, judging by the expression on my neighbour’s face. A knot began to form in my stomach as I stood in my hallway that night, slightly unsure how to react to a message that I wasn’t even certain signified anything consequential at all. Yet I couldn’t help wondering if there was indeed nothing for me to worry about, why had Grace not simply passed Jen a message or called at a more reasonable hour and prevented the panic that was rising in the back of my throat?

‘Is Rebecca okay? Did Grace mention anything to you about Rebecca?’ I had no idea what I expected to hear, and I could not understand why my brain was going into overdrive. Jen shook her head. It was clear she genuinely didn’t know much at all. In a daze, I grabbed my car keys from the shelf in the hallway and left Bella whining softly in the kitchen behind me. I didn’t even give myself time to check that she was okay before I slammed the front door shut. ‘Thanks, Jen,’ I called back nervously.

‘Drive carefully,’ I heard her mutter as I clambered hastily into my car. Thoughts I could not control raced through my mind as seemingly every set of traffic lights between Somerton Village and Milborough attempted to slow my progress, mocking my rising fear with their infuriating red tinge. What had been so vital that Grace had felt the need to launch me into this uneasy state? Surely she would have known how I would react to such a none descript message? I thought about Bella for a moment, guilty that I had left in such a hurry, yet knowing she would be fine in the kitchen with her water bowl and bed for comfort. I was glad that I had already taken her out to do her business. She was a good dog. She would be okay for a couple of hours.

As busy as our lives had become in recent years, I always made an effort to call in on my friends after work on the days when I wasn’t at the gym. I would often share a meal with them and take a shower at their flat to save time when I got home, so the fact that I hadn’t spoken to either of the girls tonight only added to my increasing anxiety levels. As they began working away more often with their modelling work, the little time we were able to spend together became incredibly precious to the three of us. Subsequently, we treasured any opportunity we had to catch up with each other’s lives. It didn’t matter where in the world Rebecca was at any given time or how obscure the time differences were because she would always call me to say hello. I would often receive a phone call at four in the morning from some exotic location. The long-distance charges must have cost her a fortune.

Those country roads seemed to stretch on forever that night, and by the time I had finally arrived at the girls flat, my nerves were already in tatters to the point I considered the idea of throwing up. I parked carelessly on the curb outside, my hands shaking slightly even though I still had no idea why I had been summoned in such a hurry. The girl’s cars were parked on the driveway, and at first glance, everything appeared completely normal. I scrambled to unlock the buildings main door, unable to stop the tremble in my hands and missing the lock twice before I actually managed to get the key into the hole. As I raced up the stairs taking two at a time, I simply could have had no idea what I was about to witness.

Grace met me in the doorway as I attempted to barge unceremoniously into the flat, oblivious at that moment to everything around me, including her. She placed a trembling hand on my arm to stop me. I hadn’t even registered that her face was pure white. It was as if she had experienced a terrifying ordeal that she had absolutely no idea how to process.

‘Grace?’ I asked, seeing a painful look behind her eyes that I couldn’t have possibly understood right then. ‘What’s happened? Are you okay?’ Grace shook her head as the alarming look in her eyes told its own story. Her cheeks had an ashen grey tinge, and she was biting her bottom lip with an absent abandonment I couldn’t quite fathom. ‘Grace? Talk to me. For God’s sake, what’s happened?’

I placed my own hands onto her shoulders in some random attempt to make sense of this extraordinary situation I had found myself in, panic steadily threatening to tip me over the proverbial edge at any moment. She shook her head yet offered no immediate answer. It genuinely seemed that she didn’t know how to deal with my presence once I was actually standing in front of her. I pulled my arm free and pushed by her, unsure as to what I was about to find and terrified by her unusual silence. As I swung open the door into the living room, the sight that met me quite literally stopped me dead in my tracks and is one I will never forget.