Time flies by and then we’re into March. There are only a few weeks left before the Easter break. Despite the work I have pending from university, I am looking forward to spending some alone time in London. Mum is not going to be back until the middle of April and that means that I’ll have the house to myself.
I am still curious about the burglar that disappeared from the cell. There isn’t any point in talking to Mum about this because she doesn’t remember what the police told her, so I don’t press on. I decide to give up and tackle it when she is back from Russia; she is enjoying herself with Dmitry so much that she doesn't want to think about London.
Gabriel keeps coming back, but it isn't as often as I wish it would be. I feel lucky if I see him twice a week. It’s harder to press him to talk about the emotions that are infused inside his heart. In a few weeks’ time, we will be in London, further away from the problems and worries. He took Adam's advice about Rose more seriously and spends a lot more time with her, which drives me crazy, but I have to make a compromise.
One afternoon during my French lecture, Adam shows up. I try to concentrate on what the lecturer is saying, but it is difficult to not stare at him. I have tried not to acknowledge him. Gabriel looked busy with Rose; I noticed them near the building when I walked by. I pretended that they were the air. They were kissing. He knew that I would be passing by, but still he let her kiss him. A sharp pain is stabbing in my heart and my mind is blank, but I don't show any emotions. I walk home quickly as soon as the class ends.
Gabriel and Adam follow me home, and I hold my tears until I am in my room. I feel as if I can never change what has happened even if I would like to. Gabriel doesn't come to see me that night, or the night after. I haven't seen him for about a week. Richard and Amy are still playing the happy couple and are spending every opportunity together.
The term ends at the beginning of April and within a few days I will be on my way back to London for the Easter break. My frustration isn't dissolving but grows day by day; I feel unwanted and erratic. On the way to London, I cry, trying to wash away everything that I have seen in the last few days: Gabriel and Rose happy together. After spending four hours in heavy London traffic, I finally reach home. It stops raining as I pull up outside my house. My tears subside, but I am left with a splitting headache. It feels weird entering my own house without the scent of Russian cooking in the air; it almost feels as if I am coming back to an unknown place. The house is immersed in silence as I walk in. I switch on all the lights and hope to have a long, relaxing bath.
‘Are you okay?’ asks Gabriel, appearing in the corner of the kitchen.
I look at him and say harshly, ‘You’ve finally showed up, then?’
‘Are you upset that I have been covering my tracks?’
He doesn't understand what I am trying to say. His strong posture shifts while his eyes are following me. I take my bag and walk upstairs. He follows me there.
‘I am pissed off because you made a decision that affected me and haven't even consulted me,’ I continue, my stomach tightening.
‘I am trying to protect both of us.’ He comes closer to wrap his arms around mine. He is wearing a navy T-shirt with white linen trousers. His eyes are darker than usual.
‘Well then, stop protecting me. I hate it when you do that.’
‘Do what?’
‘Treat me as if I don’t get anything!’
‘There is no need for you to shout,’ he snaps, narrowing his eyes, and he shifts his weight to the right.
I press my lips together and walk towards Mum's bedroom, slamming the door. My breathing quickens, and I know that I have to calm down. I hide my head between my legs, wondering if he even understands what I am going through.
‘Don't come in. I want to be alone,’ I say.
He is still out in the hall. I get up and jump on the bed, staring at the wall for a minute. I lift my T-shirt and examine the scar from my stab wound. It feels strange to run my fingers along the jagged skin. I hear the knock, but I ignore it.
‘You do know that the door won’t stop me if I want to come in?’ he says through the door.
I sigh. ‘Go and make yourself busy, Gabriel. Leave me alone for a bit,’ I say, trying to sound calm.
‘I don’t understand your drama.’
I hear him going down the stairs. Mum's bedroom is spotless. She changed the sheets and cleared out her cabinet. I am certain that she has a whole litre of vodka somewhere in the room that she keeps for special occasions, though they never normally occur. After a week of hell, I have to have a drink. I know that I will not be able to sleep well, despite having Gabriel near. I get up and walk to the cupboard where she normally keeps her bills. I push aside a guilty feeling that it isn't right to be going through my mother's personal belongings, but I’m in a dire need of a drink. The drawer is unlocked and I have to go through a few piles of notebooks, but the bottle isn't there. I stand up and put my hands on my hips, wondering where else I could look. I spot a wardrobe. I bite my lip in hesitation, but then I fling open the doors.
After searching through the pile of clothes, I find what I was looking for and more. Next to the bottle, there is a small box; I open it without hesitation. It contains a small silver key. One of the drawers in the cupboard is locked and curiosity takes over my common sense. I walk back to the cupboard and open it. I never noticed this drawer being locked before and somehow I know that the key will fit. In the drawer, there is only one thick, plain white envelope. It's already open, so I start taking the papers out and read through them. After the first few sentences, my heart sinks and I swallow hard. The blood drains from my face.
'The adoption certificate of Ania Petrova, previously Ania Jones, on the 1st of May 1989'.
This is my own adoption certificate. My breathing slows down as I sit on the floor, trying to understand what I am looking at. I would never have expected that Mum had adopted me. ‘Jones’ sounded so odd; my real surname doesn’t suit me. My whole life is a lie that my mother has created for me. I am staring at the adoption certificate while my whole body is shaking. I scan the rest of the paper, trying to locate the name of my real parents. I take the longer birth certificate and straight away spot Patricia and Larry Jones. How could I not have known that I was adopted? The room starts to spin around, making me dizzy. Slowly, I put it all together. Everyone around me was always pointing out that I never had my parents’ features but I never actually acknowledged it – not until today.
I start checking the rest of the papers, but I can't find anything relevant. It is just a few notes from the hospital, which inform me that I was born in Bangor. Within the space of a day, I am not Russian anymore; I am actually from Wales. I put the papers back into the envelope and lock the cupboard, trying to imagine my real parents, but the new thoughts make me feel sick. My head is a complete mess. I grab my vodka and walk downstairs. Gabriel is looking at me with his arms crossed. I ignore him, take a glass out of the cupboard and splash a generous amount of vodka into it.
‘So, I’m assuming that you’re not hungry?’ he asks. The sarcasm in his tone is obvious.
‘You’re assuming right,’ I snap and close my eyes.
The alcohol burns my throat, but I need to dissolve my emotions even further. Gabriel moves closer and is standing by me, resting his blue eyes on my body.
‘What's wrong with you?’
‘Just leave me alone, will you?’ I say, giving him a sharp look while taking another sip from the glass. He is getting on my nerves.
‘Just remember how you will feel tomorrow,’ he says and walks off.
I take the bottle and go to the living room, feeling more miserable than before I started drinking. I switch the TV on and start watching some documentary. I take the bottle and drink straight through. A few minutes later, the tears are streaming down my cheeks; the vodka isn’t helping to numb the pain I feel, but I don't want to get Gabriel involved. He wouldn't understand me. I want to call my m
other and tell her how angry I am, but that would be too easy for her. I need to see her face to face while shouting that I discovered her little secret that she’s has been hiding from me all these years. I look at the bottle; it’s half-empty already. The problem is that I am not drunk enough because I am still feeling like crap. I keep crying while I drink more and more until I am unable to get up. My mind is going through a cycle where I am trying to understand if I am dreaming or if this is really happening. I pass out soon enough.
Someone is stroking my hair. My eyes are heavy and when I finally manage to open them, a sharp pain flows through my head. My whole body is aching and I need a drink of water. After a few seconds, I realise that I am in my own bed naked and Gabriel is next to me.
‘Hi,’ I say, trying not to move, knowing that the pain won't go away.
‘How are you feeling right now?’
‘Like crap.’
He smiles lightly and moves closer to me.
‘I should let you suffer so you will never touch alcohol again,’ he says, observing my reaction. ‘But then you will complain that we don't spend enough time together. I will ease your pain so you can make love to me,’ he answers and moves his fingers to my forehead. Within seconds, the pain is fading and a few minutes later, I am able to move again.
‘Thank you,’ I say. Then I remembered what happened yesterday; the brutal reality of my life hits me. Gabriel looks at me, breathing calmly. His smoky hair is in a mess.
‘You drank the whole bottle yesterday.’
‘I know. I had a bad day,’ I explain, staring at the window. ‘Seeing you with Rose and then you didn't show up for a whole week …’
‘I’m sorry. I am learning to be considerate. I am not human.’
‘It's not an excuse,’ I snap, feeling angry.
‘Get in the shower and I’ll make you some tea,’ he says, standing up.
There’s no point in arguing with him, but still he upsets me. I nod and look in the mirror. I’m not sure how long I’ve been sleeping, but it is dark outside and I look terrible. I am pale and have massive dark circles under my eyes, but at least my head has stopped hurting.
‘Yes, of course, Your Highness,’ I say.
I underline the word ‘Highness’ as he leaves the bedroom, staring at me. His expression is once again unreadable. After a refreshing shower, I feel better, but I am still annoyed. My mind is hollow when I think about my adoption papers. The guilt fills my heart, but at the same time I am furious. Mum is just a manipulative liar, trying to control me all these years. I sit down on the sofa, wishing I could reverse everything that happened in the last twenty-four hours. I can't believe that I was so naive. I never cared about my father; he left my mother when I was little and I never remembered him, but Mum was always there. Gabriel will have to wait; I don't think I am ready to share the reality I have learnt in the past few hours with him just yet. Mum needs to explain to me why she never told me the truth. Gabriel is with me and I need to try to enjoy his company. He emerges from the kitchen and hands me a cup of hot tea. It’s green and smells strange.
‘So, what happened yesterday?’ he asks, sitting in the chair opposite.
I avoid looking at him. ‘I was pissed off and I had a bad day, so I needed a drink,’ I say.
He strokes his hair, staring at me, and I know he doesn't believe me. ‘I have to apologise for what I am just about to say, but I had to spend time with Rose yesterday. She is behaving suspiciously.’
Thinking about Rose right now is irrelevant, even though talking about her is making me uneasy. I feel I have enough going on inside my head without filling it with Rose.
‘What time is it?’ I ask.
‘After 6pm. You slept all night and throughout the day,’ he points out on the clock behind me.
I sigh, because I realise that I won't be able to go to sleep until late and I feel exhausted already. Mentioning the adoption to Gabriel would cause me more pain. He is my Sprite so he probably already feels that something isn’t right. I drink a bit of my herbal tea; it tastes disgusting but I try and swallow as much as I can. I get up and sit on Gabriel’s lap, wrapping myself into his body and listen to his heart.
‘I’m sorry about last night,’ I say.
‘Are you sure you're okay?’ he asks, locking his arms around me.
‘Yes, I just need more sleep.’
‘I can’t feel you all the time, but today you seem empty. You don't seem yourself.’ He kisses my cheek.
‘I’m fine.’
We stay in the same position for a while.
‘So how is Adam?' I ask. 'When I saw you last time, it seemed that you were arguing.’
‘He is fine and we haven’t been arguing. He wanted to talk about you and because I am a gentlemen, I refused.’
I laugh when he arches his eyebrows confidently.
‘What did he want to know?’ I press.
‘Everything. This is the problem with Adam.’ He pauses. ‘But then I told him that I am worried about my mother, so he stopped.’
‘Your mother?’
‘Yes, she has been infected with a rare virus from North Wales and she doesn’t seem to be getting any better.’
I stare at him with disbelief.
‘I thought that you don’t get ill? Do you think she will get better?’
He wraps his arms around my waist.
‘I am not sure. My father has gone overseas to seek the specific potion,’ he responds. ‘Don’t worry about this.’
‘But ...’
‘She will be fine,’ he cuts in, and I don’t press on.
He is probably worried about her; he is also worried about my state of mind. I feel betrayed and empty. Mum isn't my biological mother and I can’t understand why she hasn’t told me the truth. There is a lot on my mind. I assume the adoption papers weren't in the house when the burglary happened. I would remember if Mum was locking the drawer. She only recently had to move it there. Why would anybody want to find out about me or my past? Maybe someone knows about my ability. Adam warned us that we have to be more careful.
‘What are you thinking about?’ asks Gabriel. His voice brings me back to reality.
‘I am worried about our future,’ I answer.
‘This is obvious.’
‘I know that I want to be with you for as long as I can.’
‘Yes, I can certainly say you want me,’ he says, amused. ‘But we need to be more careful.’
‘I am going back to Swansea next week for exams and I need some time to go through revision,’ I say, finally remembering that I haven’t studied much at all in the past few weeks. ‘And if you just keep me distracted then I won’t get much work done.’
‘I thought that you love my distraction,’ he teases.
‘I do, but I also need to pass.’
‘Very well then. I shall leave you alone for a few weeks.’
So it’s settled then. I will be able to focus on the exams as soon as I get back to Wales. We stay on the sofa, enjoying each other’s company. Gabriel prepares supper; he is pretty good with food. Around midnight, I dry my hair and put on my pyjamas and climb into bed. Gabriel is already asleep. I lay next to him, hoping that he won’t wake up. It feels strange to look at him. He never used to stay with me and now he is making an effort to act normal.
Once again, I think about my real parents. I never thought that I would have Welsh roots. I have to confront my mother, but will I be able to deal with the consequences? There will be pain and disappointment and maybe I will never want to see her again. I know that she loves me, but now I am not sure if I feel the same way about her. She wants to control me to the point that she had to hide that she adopted me. My subconscious taps me on the shoulder and tells me that I am behaving exactly like my mother, hiding the truth from the only man that I have ever truly loved and respected.
When I get back to Swansea, I dive into the books almost straight away. The thought of staying in London during the remaini
ng weeks of Easter break brings anxiety and fear. My mother is going to be back from Russia with Dmitry, but I am not ready to face her. After a discussion with Gabriel about my plans, he leaves me, assuring me that he will stay away for a few weeks. It is tough talking to Gabriel about his emotions that he buries deep down inside. I cannot understand. He enjoyed the time that we spent together in London, where he could forget about his responsibilities and enjoy being a human.
My mother's phone calls remain unanswered; I can't bring myself to talk to her. She’s probably worried at my lack of communication, but I can't deal with her while trying to concentrate on my coursework. I know that if I confront her over the phone, I will be a coward. I want to see her face to face to understand why she had to lie.
A few days later, Mum comes back from Russia and I have to talk to her. Our conversation is short and passive. She will know that something is wrong if I keep ignoring her, so I decide to give in and speak to her. She wants to see me and asks me to come to London for the weekend, but we argue and in the end, I manage to convince her that my coursework is far more important at the moment. This gives me at least a month to prepare to see her.
I am alone every night; Gabriel keeps his promise, but he keeps following me everywhere. I notice him when I am out during the day grocery shopping, when I am in the library and in lectures. I know he is close but he keeps his distance.
When Monday approaches I don't have energy to get up; I keep thinking about the life that appeared so perfect only a short time ago. Only now do I suspect that my adoption had something to do with our sudden move to the United Kingdom. Something happened back home that scared my mother, so she decided to move abroad. She is not my mother anymore; she is just a woman called Natasha who I once knew. Slowly the memories from childhood bring together the doubts about me from the neighbours and my grandparents. My Grandmother always used to say that I had my father's features, while my aunt used to compliment me on how tall I am, despite the fact that everyone in the family is short. A loud knock on my door catches me by surprise.
‘Hey Ania, can I come in?’
I bite my lip. I’m not in the mood to talk to anyone today, especially Amy, but she knows that I am in my room and I can't ignore her.
‘Coming.’
I get up and unlock the door for Amy, whose smile is as bright as her yellow top and matching trainers.
‘What's up? Why you are locked up in your room?’ she asks, stroking her blonde curls.
‘Nothing, I am just not in the mood. Too much to do,’ I answer, rubbing my eyes.
‘You have to take a break. We’ve got ages until our next essay is due,’ she says, walking into my room.
Despite all my protests and the drama that I am trying to create, Amy makes me put on my sports clothes and we emerge from the house to burn some calories by going for a run. I don't even want to think about the shape I am in. Gabriel isn’t anywhere near my street but Amy encourages me to move, so we start jogging towards the beach. She is right; it feels good running through Mumbles. The sea relaxes me. I had stopped going to the beach after the attack, but I can't hide in my room forever. After an hour, we are absolutely exhausted, and I can't even remember when the last time was that I jogged. When we get home, I fall on the chair in the living room, trying to catch my breath. Amy hands me a bottle of cold water from the fridge. Her cheeks are ruby red and her hair is all over the place.
‘Thanks,’ I say. ‘Where’s Richard, by the way? I haven’t seen him recently.’
Amy turns around with her back to me, her expression changing as she does so.
‘He’s in London,’ she answers.
‘Oh, right. Why is he there and not here with you?’
‘Well, we kind of broke up again,’ she admits, blushing.
‘I thought that after Spain, things were good?’
I’m not a fan of Richard at all, but I know that Amy loves him and seeing her hurt over him makes me angry that I hadn’t expressed my thoughts about him sooner.
‘Spain was great, actually, but after we came back he started talking about you again. I don’t think he will ever get over it.’
15