FIVE

The Banks siblings lived in a tiny rented room at the top of Ma’s Bakery. They had been living here for the past seven years, ever since they lost their parents. Amber had stumbled upon this place by accident.

Their late father had mortgaged their house to fund a business plan that had failed miserably and upon their parent’s death, all the money left from the insurance coverage was used to either pay for the funeral or to settle their late father’s loans.

Their relative had decided early on that they would not be able to take the two orphaned children in, especially not when they had three other little mouths to feed. So they tried to send Amber and her brother to the orphanage. Amber refused and in the end, they were left to defend themselves.

It was a cold winter’s night when the owner of Ma’s bakery, Margaret Cornwell found Amber peering through her frosted windows. Anson had been sick and they had not eaten for days. That fateful night,  Margaret took the two starving children in and they stuck with her ever since.

Work at Ma’s Bakery was hard, with Amber doing most of the heavy workload and Anson helping out whenever he was not too overwhelmed with his studies. In exchange for their labour, they were given a fair wage and allowed to stay in a little room above the bakery.

“Maybe you shouldn’t work there,” Anson threw a worried look at his sister as they entered their humble abode. Their place was small but orderly, with minimal furniture and clothing. Anson made it a ritual to pull a ‘Marie Kondo’ once a month to keep their place neat and livable. He plonked himself down on a makeshift bed - a worn-out green textile sofa which had seen better days. It doubled as a lounging area by day and a bed by night. Amber’s bed, a simple mattress covered with yellow daisied bedsheet lay close by.

Amber gave her brother a mocked look, “What? And give up having you buy me a mansion when you graduate?” Then a yawn took over, she stretched her arms as far out as she could and popped into the adjoining bathroom. Anson rolled his eyes and shrugged, curled up onto his bed and closed his eyes.

The bathroom was poorly lit and extremely narrow, offering no luxury whatsoever, but it gave Amber the privacy that she so hungrily craved. For in the bathroom, Amber could lather her hair and bathe herself in scented shampoo and body wash, the only things she allowed herself to indulge in.

As the scalding hot water splashed onto her skin, she began to wash her hair and soap her womanly curves. Steam rose from the bathroom floor, lacing around her body and over her head as bathed herself clean, only to stop short when her fingers touched her neck. The memory of the man sexually assaulting her came rushing back like a tidal wave, sending a shiver down her spine.

Jerk.

She shook her head, wiped away a tear that had formed at the corner of her eyes and quickly scrubbed at her thighs furiously - she scrubbed so hard her thighs became raw and red. It felt filthy, where he had touched her earlier. She wished never to see the man again.

Outside, Anson began to snore as the sun started to peek over the horizon, signalling the dawn of a new day.

***

Fabian Williams woke to the sound of his phone ringing. It was a traditional ringtone, he never did understand why people downloaded songs for a ringtone. Ringtones were meant to tell you to answer the phone, not for you to break into a dance.

Damn.

He was just having the most wonderful dream – the redhead, she was in his dream.

He lifted his head from his silken whiten pillow and took a peek at the screen on his phone which lay next to him. He groaned. All phone calls were meant to be answered, except for this one.

The name ‘Mrs Williams’ flashed across the screen.

He rolled his eyes, rejected the call and slipped his head under his pillow.

The phone rang. It was Mrs Williams again.

Fabian sucked in his breath and rolled his eyes. There was no escaping this woman’s phone call. He knew her too well.

Grudgingly he sat up and flipped his pillow aside on his massive king-sized bed before pulling off his covers. Fabian Williams was half-naked, with only a long pair of pyjama pants on. At over 6’ tall, Fabian had a perfectly sculpted body – he was tall, lean yet muscular and broad-shouldered with dark brown hair and piercing black eyes. He was devilishly handsome and he knew it. But on this particular morning, he felt anything but good looking. With his bare feet on the ground, he leaned forward and cupped his face with one hand, peeking at his phone. His dark brown hair was tousled and short bristles were forming around his mouth and chin.

Why can’t she just leave me alone?

The call ended, just to start again.

There was no escaping her.

“I’m busy.” He set the phone to speaker mode and walked himself to his window. It was a wall to ceiling feature which overlooked the hills of Silicon Valley.

“It’s your father’s birthday Fabian,” a woman’s voice bristled through the speaker.

Fabian did not answer, he stood silently watching the sunrise with his arms crossed.

“Fabian?”

“I’m busy,” he growled. He was lying, the fact was, he was quite free today with only a TED talk to attend in the afternoon. A week ago, he had cleared his schedule, especially for today. But at the sound of this woman’s voice, he felt his heart hardened. He would have gone to see his father if SHE had not called.

“Your father doesn’t have much time left Fabian. He wishes only to see you.”

Williams Senior turned eighty this year and was dying. He had a stroke a few years back and had been confined to bed ever since. Fabian had not been back to see his father in a year.

“We have nothing to talk about.”

“Fabian!”

“Good day Mrs Williams.”

With that, he ended the call. He hadn’t realized it, but his breathing had become rapid. The call affected him more than he would like to admit.