Chapter 2- Sunday 10am
Hanna groaned as her alarm clock buzzed at 10am that morning. Not that the alarm clock was needed; she was awake already. In fact she had hardly slept at all.
For hours, she had lain awake, mulling things over in her mind. Who had sent the note? Was it the same person who had requested the connection halfway along the canal? And, most importantly, why? Why her?
At 3am, her brain had finally had enough and conveyed the message that it was time to sleep. Just as she was drifting off into her uneasy sleep, however, there was a high pitched screech from outside.
There was no mistaking that laugh. Her parents were home, and as always, they were hammered. They'd give no thought to anyone else as they made their way up the stairs, laughing and shouting. Sure enough, her parents could be heard stumbling up the stairs, the key scraped in the lock and the door opened.
"Oh John, I'm so horny"
"God", thought Hanna, "my mum must be really pissed"
She heard them both go into their bedroom, clumsily, and collapse on the bed. Drunken giggles could be heard from her mother as they began foreplay. Trying to block it out, Hanna turned over. But the noises got louder, and more disturbing. Gasps and moans could be heard, and yells of pleasure. Disgusted, Hanna put her pillow over her ears. Eventually giving up, she decided that her only option was to try to get to sleep as best as she could, and try not to be too disgusted, as her parents made love next door.
The frolicking next door seemed to stop around 5am, and Hanna finally managed to drift off into an uneasy sleep. But she was plagued with images going through her brain. Her parents, making love next door. An middle aged man, looking through her window, spying on her. A dead body, looking suspiciously like her own, floating face down along the Union Canal. Each of these images woke her up suddenly, dripping, until her white pyjama top was see-through, with cold sweat.
As she climbed wearily out of bed and headed for the bathroom, Hanna started thinking of people she could call to voice her concerns about the previous night. Oh yes, she recognised she needed help, but the problem was where to get it. Who would listen to her? Family members wouldn't take it seriously. They'd laugh it off and wind her up for being "grossed out" by her parents having sex.
Splashing her face with cold water from the bathroom sink, she finally decided that she would call her best friend, Vikki. Vikki would definitely be there for her. She had in the past and the advice Vikki usually gave was pretty solid. That's why they were best friends. Vikki had been there for her when no one else had, when everyone else had turned away and called her a cheap slag...
After hurriedly getting dressed, once again with the curtains closed and the door firmly shut, Hanna picked up her mobile from the dresser to call Vikki.
"Damnit." The display showed "No signal". Cursing under her breath, she slipped her flip flops on and headed for the front door. She'd walk to the shops and phone Vikki.
Walking along the street, half locating Vikki's name in the phonebook, half watching out for the stray dog waste in the street, Hanna took a deep breath, taking in the fantastically "fresh" air which surrounded Wester Hailes. Car exhausts, alcohol, vomit, and urine was enough to make someone without a nose gag.
Having located Vikki's number, Hanna pressed "call" and held the phone to her ear and was pleased to hear the phone ring at the other end. In a few minutes, she would be able to open up and spill the contents of her heart to the one person she trusted most in the world.
"Hello?"
Hanna nearly dropped the phone. That wasn't Vikki at the other end. The voice was male for a start.
"Um... hello. Is Vikki there?"
"Who's calling?"
"It's Hanna..."
"Hmph." The line went silent for a moment, then crackled and Vikki's voice came through the earpiece.
"Hey Hanna. What's up?"
"Um... who was that guy I just spoke to?"
"Ian? He's my boyfriend. He stayed over last night."
Again, Hanna nearly dropped the phone.
"Your boyfriend? He sounds old enough to be your dad... Where'd you meet him?"
Vikki hadn't needed to explain that. It was obvious where they'd met. The same place Vikki met all her dodgy boyfriends; the Burke and Hare strip club where Vikki worked. Hanna had voiced her concerns for Vikki's safety when she first found out where it was Vikki was working. But Vikki had insisted it was all just a bit of fun.
And certainly she hadn't come to any immediate harm. Okay, so she'd had more one night stands and slept with more guys than you could count, but they hadn't caused her any bodily harm. There was something about this guy though... Hanna couldn't quite place it.
He was definitely older than all the other guys Vikki had slept with. It also concerned her that Vikki hadn't told her she had a new boyfriend. They told each other everything, and had done since they were in primary school together. So why was she keeping this Ian a secret?
"Anyway Hanna, why were you calling?"
Hanna had completely forgotten that she'd phoned Vikki for a reason, and now it didn't seem important to her.
"Um, nothing. Was just phoning for a chat."
"Oh okay. Bye!"
The phone clicked and went dead. Hanna went into the newsagents, bought a bar of chocolate and turned back for home, all the while wondering if this could be the end of her and Vikki's long friendship.
She certainly hoped not. To break away from Vikki would break her heart, more than splitting up with a male love interest. They'd been through so much together, and Vikki had always seemed to stand up for her when she was being bullied at primary school and being called a tart at secondary school.
Their relationship had taken a bit of a knock when Hanna moved to Stirling and Vikki stayed in Edinburgh. They didn't talk to each other as much anymore; Vikki had fallen in with a group of older girls from her workplace and suddenly seemed to have a new set of morals, leaving Hanna trailing behind.
Almost in tears, Hanna ran past her stair all the way to the Gyle, deciding a bit of retail therapy was in order.
