One Perfect Summer

drawls.
    My eyes dart towards the stairs, but he’s on his feet and over to me more quickly than I would have ever imagined possible, given the bulk of his frame. Fear fills every part of me. He grips me round the waist, the smoke from the cigarette trailing up his fingers and into my nostrils. It’s suffocating.
    ‘You smell . . .’ he whispers sinisterly into my ear, ‘of sex . . .’
    His breath reeks of stale cigarette smoke and alcohol. I can’t move. My feet are glued to the spot. Where’s Joe? God, where’s Joe? I want him here with me, but I also want him as far away as possible.
    Ryan throws his cigarette onto the stone floor and stamps on it without moving away from me, not even an inch. The next thing I know, his hand is up my skirt and groping me.
    SMASH! I hear the sound of breaking glass, and at the same time the weight of him is thrown away from me. I clutch my hands to my head and stare at the scene before me. Joe, his face ripped with anger, is gripping the jagged end of a broken liquor bottle . . . Ryan’s unconscious body is sprawled out on the floor, blood oozing out of the back of his head. Joe and I meet each other’s eyes at the same moment and then two things happen: one, his dad shouts something from upstairs and we hear his footsteps stumbling across the floor above our heads, and two, Joe grabs my hand and pulls me out of there. Then we run, run, run, as fast as we can to the car.
    His hands shake violently on the steering wheel. I want to put my hand on his knee to calm him, but when I try I find I can’t move. My whole body is juddering in shock and fear. Joe glances across at me and screeches to a stop – just in time for me to open the door and throw up on the grassy verge. I retch and retch until there’s nothing left inside me except bile, but even then I can’t stop. Joe rubs my back gently while tears, brought on by the incessant retching, stream down my cheeks. Finally I’m done. Joe opens the glove box in front of me and pulls out some tissues. I clean myself up, without looking at him. When I do eventually face him his appearance is pale and he’s staring straight ahead, but his hands have stopped shaking.
    I reach across and touch his knee, able to do this now that I’ve cleansed myself, but he doesn’t move.
    ‘Joe?’ My voice sounds croaky.
    Slowly, he turns his head, but his eyes won’t meet mine.
    ‘I’m sorry,’ I whisper.
    Then his eyes sear into me and I almost reel backwards at the rage I see in them.
    ‘ You ’ re sorry?’ he spits. ‘ YOU ’ RE sorry?’
    ‘Joe,’ I say worriedly, stroking his leg.
    He bats me away, violently. I stare at him in shock.
    ‘What the fuck ?’ he screeches, staring out through the front windscreen again. ‘What the FUCK ! What the fuck just happened?’
    ‘Joe,’ I soothe. ‘It’s okay. I ’ m okay.’
    His head whips back around to me. ‘Did I kill him?’
    ‘No!’ I exclaim. ‘No, I’m sure you didn’t.’
    ‘How can you be sure?’
    I realise he’s terrified, utterly terrified. ‘Do you want to go back to check?’
    He hesitates for a long moment, before nodding. ‘Put your seat-belt on,’ he instructs me.
    I do as he says, then tell him to do the same. He ignores me, doing a manic five-point turn in the middle of a country lane. We speed back the way we came.
    He pulls up at the bottom of the hill and we look at the pub. There’s no sign of life inside.
    ‘Maybe your dad called an ambulance,’ I say.
    He reaches for the door handle.
    ‘NO!’ I shout, pulling him back.
    He looks across at me, regretfully. ‘I’ve got to check.’
    ‘You’re not going up there! There’s NO WAY you’re going up there!’
    Why did I suggest coming back? I thought we’d see something from the outside, some proof that Ryan is alive and . . .
    No, I don’t want him to be well. I want him to be gone for good, but not dead. The thought of Joe going to jail for man slaughter – or, worse: murder. The thought is too awful to contemplate.
    ‘I’ll be quick.’
    ‘NO!’
    ‘I won’t go inside. I just need to get a bit closer.’
    ‘No . . .’
    ‘Alice, I’m going.’
    ‘Joe! No!’
    But I can’t stop him. I know that he needs this, but I feel like I’m going to throw up again. I put my hand on my door handle. I don’t know what I’ll do if Ryan goes for him again. I can’t protect him. But I want to be able to get out of the car quickly if I need to. If something bad is going to happen to