Page 50 of Anxious Hearts

Kelly stared at the briefcase, all packed up now.

It was black and scuffed and indistinguishable from countless others like it.

But the contents, that’s where the treasure lay.

The contents that were now locked away and would never be accessible to her again.

Tradition dictated that she would hand it to the most promising trainee who was sitting their exam next year.

But she didn’t have that in her. Maybe she’d just drop it off at Eli’s and let him make the call.

She touched its smooth, leather surface. Cool on her fingertips. She couldn’t take her hand away, as if doing so would be the final capitulation. The final acknowledgement that it was all over.

There was a knock at the door. Kelly sighed. It would be one of her parents or her brother; they were the only ones who knew the code to get in through the lobby and up in the lift. Them and—

Finn.

He was standing there looking sheepish when she opened the door. Kelly was so shocked to see him that she didn’t speak. Despite all the anger against him that immediately burned within her at the sight of his face, she felt a deep longing to reach out and hold him. To have him hold her.

‘Hello, Kelly,’ he said.

‘Hi, Finn.’

‘Can I come in?’

Kelly pushed open the door and Finn brushed past her. Their skin touched. She smelled him; musky, familiar.

Finn paced the room. It was obvious he was high. That pissed her off. She’d made it clear she didn’t want to see him while he was using. But she didn’t have the willpower to vent her anger.

‘What do you want, Finn?’

‘Eli came to see me. He told me you’re not sitting your exam tomorrow.’

‘I’m not.’

‘You have to.’

‘Please, Finn. I don’t have the energy for this.’

Finn stopped pacing. He looked at her as though he could see right into the very core of her being. His eyes were full of pain, his mouth heavy with anguish.

‘Please, Kelly, you have to do this.’ His voice was raspy.

Kelly was sick of being told what she had to do. ‘Why can’t anyone understand that there’s no point? When that video comes out, I’m finished. The Society won’t accredit me and I won’t be able to work. It’s over for me, Finn.’

‘It’s never over, Kel.’

‘Look, I get it. You feel bad about the cafe thing and you don’t want this on your conscience. But it’s not your fault. If it hadn’t been the cafe, it would have been something else. I’m a fucking time bomb. We all know that.’

‘This has nothing to do with my conscience,’ Finn said.

‘Then why do you care, Finn? Seriously, you cut me loose without a second thought.’

Finn winced as though she’d punched him. ‘Cut you loose?’ he said incredulously. ‘You’re the one who said we needed time apart.’

‘And you really embraced that didn’t you?’ She couldn’t help the bitterness in her voice. ‘Judging from your Instagram account, you’ve had the best two months of your life.’

Finn’s eyes filled with tears. ‘I’m a fucking drug addict, Kel. The past two months have been a living nightmare. I can’t live without you in my life.’

Kelly was stunned. ‘But you can’t live properly with me in it, either,’ she whispered.

They stared at each other. Finn’s wet eyes and dilated pupils glistened under the stark white downlights.

‘We’ve always said we were the warriors, you and me,’ Finn said. ‘But we’re not. You’re the warrior. I’m just the one whose heart has sworn allegiance to you until the day I die.’

Kelly shifted uncomfortably at his mention of death.

He shook his head at her, like he was staring at a fantastical creation, hardly able to believe his eyes.

‘You’re special, Kel. And not just special smart, or kind, or funny.

Or even beautiful. You’re the kind of special that can’t be defined.

Or contained. It’s like you’re a brilliant idea that’s just too complex for people to understand or appreciate.

You exist on another plane to the rest of us.

When I’m around you, I feel humbled and inspired at the same time.

But, mostly, just really fucking lucky that I met you when I was eleven years old.

I’ve watched you, this brilliant idea, without fully understanding but always fully appreciating that I was in the presence of God when I was with you. ’

Kelly’s throat compressed painfully. Her own eyes stung with tears. She felt agonisingly self-conscious and sought refuge in deflection. ‘You don’t believe in God,’ she whispered hoarsely.

‘No, I don’t believe in God. And yet to experience you is to know the divine.’

Kelly forcefully exhaled. Bit her lip. Tried to hold back the flood.

Finn smiled. ‘I’ve booked two tickets to Newcastle on the seven o’clock flight. I’ll be at the departure lounge at six.’ He walked past her, careful not to make contact.

At the door, he turned back. ‘I’ll wait for you, Kel.’ Then his eyes lit up. ‘And if you won’t do it for me or you, do it for Eli. He’s the poor bastard who paid two thousand bucks for the business class seats.’