Underground (part one)

Sally was on her way home from a long day of rehearsals in Islington. It was another one of those fringe productions which meant that she wouldn’t be getting paid. What was the point of spending thousands of pounds on drama school if the end result was endless work with no pay? The answer was simple. She loved to act. She loved to stand in front of an audience and enrapture them with her performance. It was what she lived for; it was what made her feel alive.

It was the eve of the opening night and Sally was looking forward to a good night’s sleep before her big day. She was heading back to Sloane Square and just like most nights she felt very lucky to have her parents' flat all to herself. She didn't need to think about moving out until she hit the big time.

Sally sunk back in her seat and realised that she hadn’t read a word of the book that was open in front of her. She was too tired and her mind was whirring. Sally closed the book and looked up when she caught a guy looking at her. He was bearded but yet he looked familiar. He looked away and kept his stare focused elsewhere but Sally's eyes remained still. She knew him from somewhere. Who was he? She couldn’t see behind the beard but she recognised his eyes; she recognised the shape of his head and his body. And then she remembered and cringed. Sally quickly opened her book and pretended to read. She knew exactly who the man opposite her was. It was him. The last time she had heard from him, she was sitting in the Bluebird bar with her friends drinking Mojitos. Her phone was on the table and it was ringing.


To be continued ...

Stamford Bridge (final part)

Alison pulled Yvan to his feet and dragged him towards the stairs. She could hear the men getting closer and their shouts getting louder.

Alison ran down the stairs with Yvan holding on to her hand tightly. They ran along the corridor and towards the nearest gate when one of the Heavies stepped out onto the corridor and stood still, waiting for them to run straight into his path. The Heavy smiled; his job couldn’t be any easier. But Yvan pulled Alison in the opposite direction and dragged her through another open gate. All around them the Heavies were encroaching yet all they had to do was reach the front of the stadium where there were hotel guests and the stadium's staff lingering around.

Alison and Yvan pulled each other along but they weren’t fast enough. One of the Heavies stopped still and aimed his gun carefully, pulling the trigger. And in an instant, Yvan flew forward and across the ground.

Alison screamed. She couldn’t lose Yvan now; not after everything they’d been through. Alison dropped to Yvan's side and tried desperately to pull him up but he wasn’t moving. Alison knew she was risking her life by not running away but she didn’t want to leave Yvan lying there.

Alison bent down to Yvan and whispered, “Please, I love you.” Suddenly, Yvan’s eyes opened as he quietly asked, “Are they gone?” Stunned and trying to maintain her compsure, Alison carefully looked around to discover that the Heavies had disappeared. Alison nodded as she watched Yvan miraculously sit up. Yvan opened up his jacket. He had been wearing a bullet proof vest all this time.

Alison didn't know what to say when suddenly Yvan grabbed hold of her and apologised, “I promise, I will never put you through anything like that again.” But all Alison could think about was that she and Yvan now had a future together; and that she wasn't going to let anything get in their way.

Stamford Bridge (part two)

The first time Alison had crossed death's path was on an Israeli mountain. She was on the back of Yvan's off-road motorbike and Yvan was taking her to a place where he would regularly go to escape the paranoia that defined his war-torn world. But as Yvan took a corner, the brakes malfunctioned and the bike skidded across the gravel. Alison and Yvan flew off and hit the ground, sliding along it. They were both lucky. They both survived but just about.

Crouching down behind the seats of Stamford Bridge, Yvan knew that the same people who had sabotaged his bike were the same ones looking for him right now. 

Yvan needed to protect Alison. He couldn’t let them know that she meant everything to him. But just as he tried to stand up, she pulled him back down.

“What are you doing?” she pleaded. “You can’t.” Yvan shrugged her off. He looked at her. He couldn’t lie. Then again, he had never told anyone why these men were after him. He had never explained to anyone why he had to escape in the middle of the night and flee to South America. He had never told his family where in the world he was and he'd been gone for almost ten years now. But finally, he could share his secret with someone. He knew he could trust her. He owed her that, at least.

Yvan leant towards Alison and whispered, “l killed someone - when I was in the army.”

Alison looked at him strangely. ‘But isn't that the point of the army?’ she thought. She didn’t understand.

Yvan continued, “He was a friend and that's why they're after me.”

Yvan didn’t have to say anymore. The guilt was written all over his face and Alison knew there was another side to this man; a darker side, that she hadn't met yet. But she didn't care. She wasn’t going to lose him. Not again. Alison took Yvan’s hand and told him, “You’re getting out of here and I’m coming with you.”

To be continued ...