Page 51 of One More Time

Bidding Rodger goodbye and good luck, Grace gathered her handbag, making sure she’d stuffed the sealed envelope within, and stepped outside. A cool breeze blustered over the rise that led to the staircase leading to the seaside, stirring dried leaves from the towering trees, and sending them scattering across the lawn. Her shoes crunched upon them as she strode toward the car, thinking about the words she’d written to Charlie in that letter she was about to post. She may not be paying him visits anymore, but she sure as heck was going to continue to write to him every month to tell him about his children.

He wanted her to get on with her life, but he was and always would be a part of it. She would make damn sure of it.

CHAPTER

16

1996

Time, and plenty of soul-searching, had allowed Grace’s broken heart to heal, even if the scars remained. Her trips to church every Sunday morning had reminded her of the power of forgiveness, and how holding grudges within was like swallowing poison. Charlie was human. Yes, he’d made a massive mistake which had seen him thrown in jail, but he was, and always would be, the father of her beloved children. She’d had so many long conversations with her pastor, and finally come to understand that if she didn’t let go of the resentment and hurt caused by Charlie’s actions over the years, she’d never be able to find solace.

Even so, she’d been on tenterhooks all morning, even as she tried to pretend this day was like any other. She’d even skipped her ritual sunrise coffee to try to keep her racing heart at bay. But she had to be kind to herself. It was to be expected. Today was the day that everything was going to change in her world, and that of her children. For the better or for the worse, she couldn’t be quite sure. Time would tell. One step at a time. That’s what she kept telling herself.

She was searching through her jewellery box for her ruby earrings when she accidently knocked the entire thing from her dressing table. As the ornate timber box crashed to the floor, her jewellery went flying, bouncing all over her bedroom.

‘Oh, for goodness sake!’ she huffed beneath her breath as she clambered on fours, trying to find every piece. ‘I don’t have time for this.’

After fifteen frustrating minutes, she was satisfied she’d retrieved everything when a sparkle from beneath the bed caught her eye. Lying on her stomach, she reached beneath to clutch the last remaining piece. As she sat up against the bedframe, her heart shuddered when she unclutched her hand and saw what was resting in her palm, the setting of the deep blue sapphire nestled among the sparkling diamonds even more beautiful than she remembered.

And the sentiment of it was made stronger after everything that had happened. After everything they’d been through. Surprised by a sudden rush of hot tears, she blinked faster as she clutched the brooch Charlie had gifted her all those years ago to her chest.

‘Oh Charlie, we really went and messed things up, didn’t we?’ she whispered.

Was this a sign from the heavens that they would come to some kind of understanding, some kind of peace? She hoped so. She opened the little clip and slipped the pin into her blouse, fastening it carefully.

She took a minute to do some deep breathing to centre herself before pushing herself up to standing. She squared her shoulders and made a promise to herself that she would make this a positive day.

For all their sakes.

* * *

Charlie had followed the rules, always, and his good behaviour had made him eligible for parole. Instead of leaving at forty-five, he’d be walking out of prison as a forty-three-year-old man. Two extra years of freedom was one heck of a lot. All in all, he’d spent eight lengthy years reflecting on his crime, repenting every second of it, and making use of being locked away from the world. He knew the one he would be stepping into now would be very different to the one he had left behind.

Waking before dawn, his usual exercise routine got him through to eight-thirty sharp, when his cell door slid open on his final push-up. A shower and shave followed his last ever breakfast of slop and stodge. The next hour was spent trying to gather his thoughts and calm his nerves. He couldn’t help but wonder what it was going to feel like, walking out of here. Some prisoners were reluctant to go because prison was all they knew – he wasn’t going to be one of those guys.

An announcement came over the speaker, requesting him to the release gate. His legs felt a little unsteady, as he rose and headed toward the part of the prison that was usually forbidden to inmates. A familiar guard met him there and led him through the steel doors he’d only ever seen once before – on his way into this hellhole.

His sack filled with clothes, personal belongings, photos of his children and Grace, and the pile of ninety-two letters he’d received from her over his shoulder, Charlie walked through the corridors one last time, stopping at the final heavy iron door. In here, he’d watched his life tick away, but now, he was looking forward to his future, whatever that may be. The right to live his life as he chose awaited.

One second. Two seconds. Three. Four. Five. Then a few heavy footsteps fell, and there was an echo of voices and jangling keys on the other side.

Clunk.

The lock turned. The heaving door scraped against the concrete ground as it opened and then did the same as it slammed shut behind him. It felt so good being on the other side of it. His steps became lighter. He’d envisioned this day for eight long years, and now he was about to walk out a free man, it felt unnervingly surreal but exciting.

Beneath blinding sunshine, he was led past the exercise yard. Some of the prisoners stopped to applaud his early parole, others were clearly envious. The gates topped with skin-ripping razor wire swung open.

One second. Two seconds. Three. Four. Five. As he waited, he recalled the time he’d watched a desperate inmate try to climb over the razor-wired fence – the image of his torn and bloodied body was burnt into his brain forever.

A bell sounded and the guard urged him forward. He didn’t need any more of an invitation. Stepping through the belly of the beast, he took one last breath of prison air as he dared a glance back over his shoulder at the guard who’d grown to become a man he classed as an acquaintance, maybe even a friend.

‘You take care now, Charlie, and keep your wits about yourself, okay?’ the guard said, chewing his gum like a cow chewing its cud.

‘Don’t you worry, Frank, you won’t be seeing me again.’

‘Good, because you got an ugly mug, Wilson,’ Frank said, chuckling and shaking his head before slamming the gate shut.

Charlie felt like a different man to the one who’d ambled in here, with his tail between his legs and a giant chip on his shoulder. Outwardly, with his hair clipped short and all the time he’d spent training, there was certainly more stock to his build. Inwardly, deep down in his soul, the dark edges had been lightened and his demons were rarely heard, nor felt. When they occasionally were, he knew how to scare them away with a simple game of cat-and-mouse, where he was always the lion.