Letting You Go by Anouska Knight Read Free Book Online Page A

forgotten its beauty.
    Alex took in the view back towards the river where it cut past Hamih’s pub.
You used to play Pooh sticks off that bridge with Jem, Dill Pickle.
Alex would invigilate while Mum and Dad watched from The Cavern’s beer garden.
    She missed him so much it ached. She missed Dill too.
    None of the self-help articles ever said what to do about her dad. There wasn’t a fear ladder for that, no psychological tool that would make her apology substantial enough to brave offering it again.
    You’re not here for that. You’re here for Mum. And then you’ll be gone again. Out of his way.
    Alex shook off her inner monologue. She always became the same useless wimp when it came to Ted, that was a given, but Alex had decided on the drive up here that she would at least shuffle up a couple more rungs of her self-help strategy while she was here. She was going to pay a visit to an old adversary. The Old Girl looked welcoming now, winsome and pretty, just as she had been a thousand times before on still summer mornings such as this. Perfectly safe, if you chose the right spot.
    Alex shuddered. That was a few rungs up yet. The Old Girl was right at the top, the end goal. She was going towade into the Old Girl one day and she was going to do it without becoming a dithering wreck. Just like that. Tra-la-la. Alex quivered a little at the prospect.
One step at a time
, Dr Phil said. She could start up at the plunge pools, in the shallows. Alex found herself drifting away with her thoughts. Yes, before leaving the Falls again, she was going to achieve something. She was going to stand in the plunge pools up to her knees. That was the benchmark,
that
was something realistic she could aim for, a rung she could climb.
    Ain’t no thing but a chicken wing,
she reassured herself.
    She’d seen an allegedly phobic woman on
Oprah
say this, again and again like a magical spell of protection while someone had steadily placed a boa constrictor around the woman’s sweaty neck. Alex had watched intently and the woman hadn’t even blinked. The not blinking thing wasn’t as impressive as having a snake near her windpipe though, in fairness.
    Alex watched the sparkles on the water. ‘Ain’t no thing but a chicken wing,’ she said aloud. It felt strange. Liberating. She’d read that in the
Climb your fear-ladder
article too.
Face your fears and assertively tell them, ‘No! I will not be a slave to you any more!’
    She locked eyes on the riverbank. ‘No’, she said in a small voice, ‘I will not—’
    This was ridiculous. She was losing her mind. Alex let out a little laugh. Then she cleared her throat and tried it again. All this clean air was flushing something out of her, it felt kinda good. And weird. ‘Ain’t no thing but a chicken wing!’she called, louder this time. The wall of evergreens called back with a small echo. There were only squirrels and, rumour had it, a headless ghost she might disturb back here. Sod it, call it coffee jitters but she was going to go for it. She’d see a car coming a mile off before anyone would hear.
    She took another lungful. ‘AIN’T NO THING BUT A CHICKEN WING ON A STRING—’
    ‘From …
Burger
King?’
    Alex snapped her head round to her right side. Her heart hurt, like it had a stitch. It might actually have just stopped.
    The mud was the first thing. New toffee-coloured mud spattered across his jaw. She glanced up and down, scanning him for possibility.
    Oh God. Oh my God.
    Another pain in Alex’s chest. She felt the beating in there fire up again on all cylinders. This was why kids pedalled stories of headless ghosts in the forest, the mulchy floor spongy enough that any person with a half-decent pair of trainers and a degree of athletic grace (that was Alex out then) could suddenly, soundlessly appear from the woods and scare the crap out of you.
    Finn looked stunned too.
    Alex didn’t know where to look. The mud was a running theme. His trainers were caked in the stuff,