Yet another contest entry for I know it's been a while since I uploaded, so please, enjoy. And review.(If you don't review, how do you ever expect me to get any better?) xx

Antiquity

Annie brushed her fingers against the cool, hard glass; pressed her hands against the window as though she were a prisoner in her own home and let her gaze wander out to sea. The view from the window was calm, the sky blue and cloudless, and a gentle breeze tripped through the little buds that had begun to sprout on the rose bush that grew on her back lawn. She sighed to herself and brought her face even closer to the glass, letting her breath spread before her in misty swirls as it hit the coolness of the window.

“Mummy?” A small child entered the room, looking about excitedly before finding the woman and crossing over to her. The girl was young, perhaps six or seven years old, with a tousled mop of curly blonde hair that fell about her face wildly. She beamed up at her mother and laid a hand on her arm. “I was looking for you because Amelia wanted to know if she could come and play today. I told her I’d come and ask you a bit later, and it’s a bit later now, so I want to ask you if she can come over. Can she? Can she come over so we can--” she broke off and frowned up at her mother. “Why are you crying?” Annie turned from the window, wiping her eyes swiftly so the child would not see and fought to get a smile on her face in place of the forlorn, rather lost look she had been sporting just seconds before.

“What is it Jenny?” she asked quite absently, still lost in thought though she was now focusing her gaze on her small daughter who was stood before her with her hands on her hips.

“You’re crying. Why are you sad?”

“I’m not,” she said quickly, and then smiled again, wider this time. “I’m not crying, I was just thinking about the sea, that’s all. What did you want sweetheart?”

“Amelia wanted to play earlier, can I say that I can play with her? Please?”

“Of course,” she answered. “Would you do me a favour though, and get me the phone from the hook in the kitchen? I want to ring Grandma so she can come over and look after you for a while.”

“Grandma’s coming? Are you going out?”

“I think I might.”

“Sure, okay.” Jenny left the room quickly, skipping out through the door and into the hallway.

Annie turned back to the window and placed her hands heavily on the windowsill with another sigh. Jenny returned with the phone after a few moments of muffled bangs and few peals of laughter as the cat tried to pull at the ribbon in her hair in the kitchen. She handed the cordless phone to her mother and then walked to the door again.

“I’ll go and see if Amelia is free.”

“Yes. Be careful, don’t cross that road. Stay on the grass.”

“Okay Mum.”

She watched her daughter go and then turned back to the window for a final time. She followed her daughter as she crossed the lawn and skipped out of the garden gate. Annie imagined that she could hear her singing to herself as she ran along. Then she lifted the phone to her face and dialled a number she knew by heart.

“Hello?”

There was a crackle and then a woman’s voice informed her that this was the Bartlett residence. Would she like to speak to Mrs. Bartlett?

“Hi Mum,” she said after a moment’s pause.

“Oh hello Annie darling. How are you?”

“I’m fine, how was your day?”

“Same as always. I did the crossword in the paper, and I finished that jigsaw you got me for my birthday.”

“Did you like it?”

“Yes, it was nice.” There was silence, Annie could hear her mother’s breath coming heavy over the line and she shook her head to herself. This was something she needed to do.

“Listen, Mum, are you busy this afternoon?”

“I’m never busy in the afternoon,” her mother answered with a chuckle.

“In that case, could you come and keep an eye on Jenny for me?”

“You’re going out?”

“For a walk.”

“By yourself?”

“Yes. I need to get some air.”

“Okay darling, I’ll be round in a little while. It’s not urgent, I hope?”

“No, just a walk.”

“Right. See you soon.”

“Yes, bye.” Annie pressed the End Call button and cradled the phone to her chest. She took to staring out the window, searching the horizon for some invisible spark of courage, and then scanning the seas for a hint of what she should do. She placed a hand over her stomach, bit her lip, and then raised the phone to her face again.

Her fingers typed in the numbers without a second’s hesitation, punching the digits that she could find in her sleep. With a heavy sigh and a deep intake of breath she put the phone to her ear and felt the butterflies in her stomach intensify. The dial tone began to beep steadily, and then there was the familiar crackle along the line as somebody answered the phone.

“Hello?”

“Adam. It’s me.”

Silence. “Oh.”

“How are you?”

“Fine.” The voice was cold, suspicious. Annie tried to slow down her breathing, taking great gulps of air and feeling the butterflies that almost made her double over begin to reside a little.

“Adam, I need to talk to you.”

Another silence, one that sounded like thought. Adam was always silent; he never could do more than one thing at once. Annie wondered what he was thinking about, wondered whether it was her, or whether it was Jenny, or even whether it was neither of them- that thought hurt.

“Adam?”

“Yes?”

“Please. We need to talk. It’s important.”

“All right,” Adam agreed with a strong suggestion of reluctance. “All right, but can I ask what it’s about?”

“Something I can’t talk about over the phone- I can barely talk about it to myself.”

“Then why do you need to talk to me?”

“Because you get me. You’re the one person I can talk to.”

“Oh. Right.”

“Where can we meet? Are you free now?”

“I’m not doing anything I can’t do later. I’ll see you at the carousel?”

“Sure, but-”

“All right. Bye then,” Adam cut Annie off impatiently. She bit her lip again and wondered if this really was the best course of action. Her stomach flipped, and she brushed her hair from her face in a nervous gesture.

“Yes. Bye.”

“Oh- Annie?”

“Yes?”

“Say hello to Jenny for me, won’t you?”

“Yes.”

“Bye.” Adam clicked the phone down, and Annie was left listening to the blank tone left behind. She closed her eyes and imagined the blackness, the cold dark nothingness that had been left behind in his wake. Even after all these years Adam was still the only man who made her feel this way- and it was wrong now; it was a feeling that Annie should no longer feel, should no longer have to hide. Why did he always make her feel so abandoned?

“Annie?” Annie snapped her eyes open, her heart jumping a little. Her mother stood in the hallway, just in sight, and was peeling her light coat off and hanging it on the banister. “Annie?”

“In here Mum,” Annie said with a little smile.

“Hello sweetheart.”

“Hi.”

“Where’s Jenny?”

“She’s just gone over to Amelia’s house, she should be back soon. Would you like me to wait with you?”

“No, that’s okay. I was thinking I might go out and sit in the garden anyway.”

“It’s a bit cold.” Annie gave her mother a look that suggested she must be mad, or at least have some serious issues, to want to sit outside. “It only stopped raining this morning.”

“I know, but I lived in Canada for three years. The cold doesn’t bother me as much as it does you, or your father.”

“No, I guess not.”

“Are you going now then?” Annie’s mother crossed the room and patted her shoulder lightly, a concerned look on her face. “Go on darling, you look tired. Have you been sleeping all right?”

“Yes, I’m just busy.”

“Well, get yourself out of the house for a while. It’ll do you the world of good.”

“Yes, I know.” Annie gave her mother a grateful smile and started to cross the room. She reached the doorway, turned back and said, “Thanks, you know, for looking after Jenny for me.”

“What are mothers for?”

“I love you. I’ll see you later.”

“Okay.”

Annie grabbed her coat from the hook by the door, and a hat, and stepped out into the cool spring breeze. With the arrival of her mother seemed to come the arrival of a new doubt. What if Adam wouldn’t listen to her? What if he didn’t care? Maybe it would be best to stay behind and talk to somebody else...

“Hey Mum.” Jenny rounded the little corner, cut across the grass and stepped through the gate with a friend behind her.

“Hi Mrs. Jameson.”

“Hi Amelia,” Annie said almost without thinking. “Jenny, you’ll be good for Grandma while I’m out won’t you? I shouldn’t be too long though.”

“Sure. See you later.”

It was settled. Walking back inside now she would have to admit defeat. She shook her head, buried her hands deep inside her jacket pockets and headed off on the road to the beach.

--

Adam and Annie had often walked the long stretch of sand together, both before and after they got married- in fact, they had both been walking the length of the peninsula for years, though now Annie found the little promenade to be full of rather haunting memories, especially those established recently.

She closed her eyes, breathing deeply and letting the refreshing salty air flow into her lungs gratefully. The carousel was close to the house she was renting- had been living in since Jenny was born- yet she found that Adam was already there when she arrived. A mist had begun to seep in from the sea giving everything a dull, gloomy quality, including the hulking figure who stood with his back to her facing the sea.

“Adam,” she said by way of greeting. Her turned to her with little acknowledgement, and then stepped in to fill the space between them.

“Annie.”

“Thanks for coming.”

“That’s okay. Do you want to walk?”

“Sure.” They headed off in the direction of the beach in silence, each trying to formulate the right words. In the end it was Adam who spoke first, cleared his throat and looked into Annie’s face with an attempt at blank disregard.

“Well, this is awkward.”

“I know, I’m sorry.”

“You wanted to talk to me?”

“Yes,” Annie agreed. She tossed her head and brushed the hair from her face, sweeping it behind her ears only to have it pulled out again by the wind that blew about them.

“Why me?”

“I told you Adam; I can always talk to you.”

“Yes, but why now?”

“Because I need you.” They had reached the edge of the beach now, the sand falling upon the bottom of the slope down to the sea. Annie stopped, and held her hand out to Adam. “I’m sorry Adam; I know you have better things to do. I’ll go if you want.”

“No,” he said slowly, his eyes meeting hers. “It’s okay. I’m here.” They resumed walking again at a slower pace, bracing themselves against the wind that gushed in from the ocean.

“Adam,” Annie began uncertainly, finding that now she had him here, she had nothing to say- or at least, she couldn’t figure out how to say what she wanted to. It was like trying to reach out and pluck something from behind the surface of a mirror, the solid barrier like cold glass separating her from the things she so desperately needed. “Adam, he left me. Robert left me.” She was silent again, looking out into the bleakness that was beginning to push away the blue sky of earlier. The sea was cold in reflection, empathy sloshing onto the shore in all its grey glory.

“Oh.” In truth, Adam didn’t know what to say. He followed Annie’s gaze out to the water as they walked, and slid closer to her. “I’m sorry.”

“Yes, so am I.” She wasn’t sorry, not really, and Adam knew this. He reached out for her in a gesture of comfort, finding her hand and holding it in his. Without realising, they had stopped walking again, and were stood facing each other, the lapping of the waves falling only a few feet away. Adam’s gaze met Annie’s once more, and he could see the tears there. If she didn’t care about Robert, why was she so sad? She squeezed his hand and stepped closer to him.

Annie’s breathing quickened as she fought with an invisible beast inside. It hurt to talk, all she wanted was comfort.

“Adam,” she said again, quieter this time. The crashing of the surf grew a little more violent as the wind picked up again, but Adam didn’t take his eyes off her face. “Adam, I-” She brooked eye contact with him, throwing her face away from the heat of his body, and drawing her body inside, away, wishing that she could just drop to the floor in a ball and cry. “Adam,” she began for a third time. “Adam, I lost the baby.” A tear trickled down her face, and she took a deep breath, followed by a deep shuddering sob.

Suddenly she was no longer feet away, she was in his arms, her face pressed to his chest as she sought comfort from his familiar form. Adam, wide-eyed and bewildered, stood by and let her cry. When her body has stopped shaking, he drew her face up level with his, and raised one eyebrow quizzically. Annie wiped her nose on the sleeve of her jacket, and began to walk.

“You remember, two months ago,” she began, stalking off at a quick pace in the hopes that Adam would follow. He did, and fell back into the rhythm of her steps easily. “We held that birthday party for Jenny.”

“Of course I remember,” Adam said, not seeing quite how Jenny’s party had anything to do with a baby.

“And that night-” Adam raised his eyebrows again, and Annie stopped walking, pulling Adam away from the sea and into the shadow of a wall from the promenade. “We slept together.” Adam let out a whistle of air between his front teeth and blushed a little, glad for the wind which no doubt had made his cheeks pink with cold already.

“Yes.”

“Oh Adam,” Annie gasped, drawing in great mouthfuls of air. She fell onto his chest again, this time without the tears, pressing her body against his. Adam stood stiff for a moment, and then a leap in his stomach and a double beat of his heart told him that he understood.

“A baby?” he asked incredulously, still stood stiff against Annie, against the woman he had officially divorced three years ago, and felt his throat tighten against the words. “Our baby? My baby?” Annie didn’t say anything, pushing her face deeper into the layers of Adam’s coat and wrapping her arms around him. Adam fought to get his head around what he had just heard.

He felt something break inside of him, like a wall crashing down against the pressing tide of the ocean, and he dropped the facade he had been carrying with him for the longest while. The thoughts running through his head were foreign, old, like the realisation of something that he had known all along, and yet he could not understand what it was that he had finally realised. He felt his body relax, the tension running out of it like water from a cliff, and then he became aware of the comfort of the arms around his waist. He was supposed to be comforting her, but that was never how it worked; he listened, she cried, and they were a comfort to each other.

“When were you going to tell me?” Adam asked after a moment, his throat still tight. Annie raised her head, still with her arms around his waist, and shook her head.

“I don’t know,” she answered earnestly. “I never got that far.”

“How do you know it was mine?”

Annie blushed as though Adam could read her mind, and then she locked eyes with him, determined to draw the confidence out of the raging ocean and into her body. She swallowed hard, straightened out her face into a disinterested facade, and let the confidence of the wind and sea run through her veins.

“Robert and I hadn’t slept together for three months, Adam. He was sleeping on the sofa, he didn’t want anything to do with Jenny or me; he was only staying because there was nowhere else for him to go.”

“But-”

“No business conference on Jenny’s birthday. He was probably at the local piss-up,” she said wryly, wincing at the unusual yet only slight vulgarity of her language. “He hated me.”

“I thought you two were perfect together,” Adam confessed shaking his head. “You always seemed so happy. It made me glad I- it made me feel like- like leaving was a good thing.”

“We weren’t perfect,” Annie sighed. “We were never perfect, because he wasn’t you. The love we had was perfect.”

“Love is never perfect.”

“Our love was perfect.”

“Then why did I leave?”

“I’ve been asking myself the same question for three years.”

A moment later it was raining, the grey storm clouds overhead had begun to empty their flowing silver droplets all about the city, and Adam smiled. The rain fell to his shoulders in a downpour that drenched them through almost immediately, and in that same moment Adam pressed his lips to Annie’s forehead in a gesture of love and comfort. All the pain of the last three years, all the loneliness was pouring from his body with the rain. In truth, he had replayed scenes of their passionate anger over in his mind so many times he had lost track of the reason why he had left in the first place; a fight over Jenny? Or Annie’s obsession with cleaning? Was it an argument over an unintentional flirtation, or less than passionate kiss? Adam didn’t know, and more than anything, now he was here- though he hadn’t wanted to be there at first- he knew it was clear, in his mind at least, that he didn’t care.

“You’ve been thinking about us?” Adam asked hopefully, daring to ask if she had felt the same way.

“I wasn’t just being poetic,” Annie answered through the rain. “ I meant what I said. Why did you leave us, Adam? Why forsake all that we had for something so worthless?”

Adam remembered.

Her name had been Janice.

A misunderstanding.

A dare.

A bet.

Failure.

Ruin.

“Worthless,” Adam admitted absently. “An accident.”

“Adam,” Annie began cautiously but Adam cut her off.

“Annie. Annie, darling, I’m sorry. I don’t know how it was three years; I’ve always been a hopeless time-keeper. Three years, and I didn’t ever say those words! I don’t care what you’ll say now, but I want you to know I’m sorry. I’m sorry for everything; I’m sorry I left- the baby- us- I- I...” He trailed off, and Annie could see the faint line across his cheek as a tear fell against possibly the only dry skin on his face.

“Come on. Let’s go somewhere dry.” Adam nodded and wiped the rain from his eyes.

They walked hurriedly back the way they had come, seeking refuge underneath the covered roof of the old carousel. Annie led them to a carriage, half way around between the horses, one that faced the ocean, and sat in it. She brushed her wet hair from her face, and pulled Adam down beside her.

“I’ve been thinking about what happened, every day, and it’s wrong. I’ve always said, haven’t I, that life is like looking into a mirror? Every day you look at the same piece of glass, take in your reflection and those of the people around you, until one day you look in the mirror and the person staring back at you isn’t who you expect to see. It’s terrifying and mysterious- a bit like love-”

“I thought for a moment there you were going to say love was like a roller coaster, but I guess that was always your mother who said that.”

“Hmm?”

“Love, a roller coaster. It’s fast, scary- terrifying even- and when you’re on you can’t wait to get off, but once you get off, you want to get straight back on.” Adam smiled, and Annie nodded.

“Don’t mock me Adam, I’m being serious.”

“So was I.” He squeezed her shoulder and pressed his body against hers until their faces were only inches apart; he was amazed how little her face had changed.

“The mirror-”

“Have you ever tried going against the mirror?” Adam asked suddenly, gazing intensely into her face. “Have you ever tried pushing away what you see?”

“That’s what happened the day you left. I tried, and I failed,” Annie answered.

“I’m sorry, I should never have-”

“It was a long time ago Adam.”

Adam was about to pull away, hearing the hostility in Annie’s voice, but she pushed into him, planted her lips firmly against his. Her felt her lean against him, her arms go around his neck, and as cliché as he knew it sounded, he felt like he was home.

“Adam,” Annie said as they pulled away. She knew that things weren’t perfect, they hadn’t been for the longest time, but the loss of her second child had alerted her to one thing: Adam was right, love wasn’t perfect, but that certainly didn’t mean she couldn’t try.

“Yes?” he asked breathlessly, his heart skipping in his chest.

“You wanted me to say hello to Jenny.”

“Yes.”

“Why don’t you come and do it yourself?”

“You want me to?” Adam’s eyes widened in shock, as though he had just woken from a particularly strange dream. This wasn’t a dream, he knew it, because in the dreams she had always left him alone, in the darkness, with nothing but the memories of her skin pressed against his to keep him from going insane.

“More than anything.” Annie kissed him again, pressed her face against his and breathed him in, wanting to capture him through scent so that he would never go away. This was something she had had to do, something she had wanted to do for the longest time. Funny how it took death to bring her back to life, but her mother had always said that life had a funny way of dealing out the cards it held.

“Maybe we can push that mirror image away together.”

“Yes. Maybe. Or maybe we can get rid of the mirror altogether.”