I'm back with the next chapter. The forth has already been started.
I froze immediately, instantly recognising the teasing Russian accent on the other end of the line. I placed my hand on my heart to feel it racing. He had always had this effect on me.
Keeping my voice surprisingly steady, I managed to reply. "What do you want, Aleksandr?" I asked, my voice choking slightly at the name from my past.
"I'm out, dearest 'Katie'." There was clear inflection in his voice which suggests he put air quotations around my name.
"You're out of prison? When?"
"Why do you care? Your fucking testimony put me in that hell hole, for two fucking years."
"Well, maybe next time, you shouldn't get fucking caught, Aleksandr. And is what they told you? My testimony put you away? I didn't even give a fucking testimony, I wouldn't do that to you. What the fuck do you take me for?" I sat down on the desk and kept an eye out for anyone potentially listening in as I allowed my accent to slip into my voice for the first time in what felt like in forever.
"That was Drago's fault. He fucked up as a look out."
"Drago was the most irresponsible little shit ever. Still is, probably." He chuckled.
"That is true," he sighed. "He hasn't changed in the slightest."
"How was prison?" I asked after a few moments silence.
"Tough, very tough." He sounded like a broken man.
"I miss you all, even Alexei and Nikolas, surprisingly, no matter how bloody irritating they are."
"Why did you leave?" His voice was so small. He was only ever gentle when it came to me but I could tell he was itching to say something else.
"I lost you," was my honest answer. "And it hurt, so, so much. And with the cops watching us all the time, just waiting for one of us to slip up as well as not having you by my side, I had to escape. Start afresh. Mama and Papa helped me move. They knew I wasn't the same from the day you were in prison." I shrugged, even though he couldn't see it. I moved over to the window and stared out onto the grounds.
"But changing your name? Travelling all the way to England of all places? I can't afford a flight over there, not yet anyway. The prison staff have been helping me a find a job, though."
"Aleks, I will always love you but your life is over there. Just because I ran out on my past doesn't mean you should too. Your friends and family are over there."
"They're your family too."
"And they always be. My blood parents know fully of my whereabouts; I write to them often. My adoptive family, the ones that sponsored my move and took me in unknowingly, they couldn't cope with my behavioural issues and sent me here to get rid of me. As for changing my name, they don't know my true heritage here. I don't want them to know, either."
"Why?"
"The questions in a place like this would be endless. But you, and only come call me by my true name."
"Well, my dearest, Kristina Sasha Fyodorov," I sighed at the love in Aleks' voice at the use of my full name. "Would you ever come back to visit?"
"Maybe, in a couple of years. I've only just settled here in St. Trinian's."
"How is normal life working out for you?" He teased.
"Life here is far from normal, we have access to firearms on a day-to-day basis. The terror twins, as they're affectionately called, are more dangerous than Vladimir could be."
"Bozhe moi."
"My sentiments exactly." I heard footsteps on the hard flooring and panicked slightly before they disappeared just as quickly as they appeared. "Oh, shit. Someone's coming. Have you got a pen?"
"Yeah, why?"
"Take my mobile number so you don't have to ring the school all the time."
"Go for it."
"07700900481. Text me, call me, whatever you want."
"If we're not going to be meeting for a while, even if we are contact, please move on even if we do always love each other."
"I miss you too much to date seriously."
"There is someone out there for you."
"I know. I'm on the phone to him."
"Kristina," he sighed, slightly frustrated. "Please will you try? We all knew you were bisexual, no matter how hard you tried to hide it. Find a British girl to keep you grounded." He was so blasé when talking to me about my sexuality, I was shocked to the core.
"How the hell do you know that?"
"The amount of girls you checked out, even unknowingly. We all caught it."
"And none of you cared?"
"We love you. I love you, I always will. But we're different people now. You work the British accent well and we live on different sides of the planet. We need to move on."
"As long as we speak a lot, I will try."
"Of course, lyubov' moya."
"Will you call soon?"
"Next week?"
"Sounds agreeable."
"Go, troublemaker. Have fun with your measly British weapons and clothing."
"I ordered in a MP-443 Grach, reserved for my use only. Just because they use American weapons doesn't mean I'm that low. Also, Russian silk for my shirts and cotton, etc."
"Good girl."
"I love you."
"I love you too. Find someone to keep you grounded. You deserve it."
I waited to hear the dial tone on the other end before placing the phone back on the hook. I sighed, clearing my throat otherwise I would be stuck in my native accent and walked back into the other room where everyone was lounging around. The stage was all set and the equipment raring to go. I checked every cable and every lightbulb. The show had to be good if it was spontaneous. Even better when expected so I double checked everything.
"Kate, everything okay?" Annabelle asked as soon as I was through the door.
"Yeah, I'm all good."
"Who was on the phone?" I thought about my answer carefully.
"An old friend," I smiled to myself and went back to the wires.
"Who?" She sounded innocent but she was prying and I hated it when she did it.
"No one you know, 'Belle. Just drop it, please?"
"Fine." She turned back to Kelly and Chelsea, both of whom knew me well enough "that I don't have secrets from them" (yeah, right) so I was on the receiving end of their suspicious glare. I could feel it burning holes into my back as I ignored it.
The Banned turned up and started tuning their instruments, all of them testing their voices. I jogged to the music room and grabbed the Stratocaster, throwing the strap over my shoulder. I joined them on the stage and plugged myself in. I would be playing tonight and well, I wanted to get myself ready. They smiled when I joined them and we did a sound test. Bianca, Chelsea and Zoe (all three of whom had a surprising knowledge about music tech) were adjusting the sounds and so on as we sang the school song.
Lucy programmed the computer to follow all the lighting sequences Zoe and Chelsea made whilst Bianca was monitoring the sound and amps.
Any thoughts? Constructive criticism is welcome.
