Another Life (24 page)

‘I found out where he was being held. Then I wrote him a letter, setting out the case for him to see me – I said I had essential information, could be life or death—’

‘Didn’t the prison read it?’

‘I don’t know, maybe.’

‘Oh, OK, it just seems a bit. . .’

‘A bit. . .?’

‘I don’t know . . . a bit . . . unlikely.’

The pips go. He needs more money. He doesn’t seem to have any.

‘Bye!’ I shout, but the line’s dead.

Claire’s rung me too. Claire’s furious with me. She thinks I’m putting Ty in incredible danger.

‘I want to know, the minute you meet. You text me. You text me the minute you come out of that place. You text me when Joe gets on his bus.’

‘Yes, Mum.’

‘I can’t believe you’re making a joke about this! I can’t believe you’re suggesting this is a good idea!’

‘Oh chillax, Claire. Has anyone else found a way of calling these people off? Trust me. It’ll be fine.’

‘Oh, well, if you say so.’ She’s even more sarcastic than my dad.

‘Claire, about, you know, the other day. In the café.’

Annoyed silence down the phone.

‘Let’s not talk about that,’ she says. ‘It was a total mistake. I temporarily lost my senses.’

‘Oh right, it’s just that I thought you and Ty were on a break, and. . .’

‘On a break? I don’t know what you’re talking about,’ she says. ‘If he gets hurt, if this goes wrong, I’ll never forgive you, Archie.’

‘Oh yeah, and when it goes well, what’s the reward?’ I ask, but she’s already ended the call.

All in all, I’m ready for a party. Shannon looks great when she comes out of the Tube station. She’s cut the Fake Bake and bling, she’s let her hair out of its tight ponytail,
so it ripples over her bare shoulders. She’s wearing a simple black dress, very short, very tight. Her shoes are Beckhamesque – and I’m not talking football boots.

‘Wow,’ I say, ‘you look fabulous.’

She’s pleased, I can tell, but she just says, ‘Shut up. Good enough to meet your posh friends?’

‘Of course!’ Huh. Anyone would think I was a snob.

Lily and her mum live on the top two floors of a big flat-fronted house in Parsons Green. You can see the river from their balcony. If you go up onto the roof – it’s not an official
roof terrace, but it’s a nice flat space, and Lily’s mum has a table and some loungers out there – you can see for miles, over the river, south to the rooftops of Putney.

When Lily and I were younger, we used to watch the boat race from her roof. I’d shout for Oxford because my dad went there, she’d shout for Cambridge just to make it more
interesting. I used to imagine myself following in Dad’s footsteps, riding a bicycle and wearing a gown and getting up at dawn to go rowing, talking in Latin about very clever stuff.

When I told Dad that I wanted to go to Oxford, he snorted and said, ‘Well, with the expensive education you’re getting, there’s no reason why not.’

Dad went to some crappy school in Mile End, left at fifteen to work on his dad’s market stall, then went back to night school when he was eighteen. He got a place at Oxford two years
later. When I realised how amazing that was – and how I’d never be able to top it – I stopped imagining myself at Oxford. Who wants to wear a stupid gown, anyway? I’d rather
sleep than go rowing.

Lily’s flat is all white walls and white floorboards and fairy lights. She’s cleared most of the furniture into her mum’s bedroom, and the space looks massive. Oscar’s
DJing at a huge deck. Paige is right by his side – they met on my Facebook page and bonded during a thread on hair products. They’ve been together two weeks. I suspect that
Oscar’s trying to make Lily jealous – that’s certainly my plan in bringing Shannon here tonight – but he won’t admit it.

People are dancing. People are smoking. Shannon stands in the doorway, her eyes wide.

‘Wow,’ she says. ‘This is amazing.’

We dance for a bit. We drink. We sit in a corner and kiss. I see loads of kids from college staring at me, staring at Shannon. The girls are curious, the guys are definitely impressed.
It’s not often that someone totally new turns up.

Then I see Kenny Pritchard coming towards me. I bet he’s about to ask me if I’ve got any gear. I’m really not interested in talking to him right now.

‘I’ll show you the roof,’ I say, heading for the stairs.

The cold air hits me as we step out into the night and I realise I’ve made a big mistake. This is the first roof I’ve been on since that day, and it’s all coming back, except
worse, because last time adrenaline pumped me up, but this time I’m feeling sick and giddy and nervous.

I clutch Shannon’s arm, ‘This is it . . . it’s cold, though. Let’s go back down.’

But she says, ‘It’s brilliant. Look at all them little candles.’ The candlelight is reflected in her huge eyes. She lifts up her face to me, gives me a kiss—

‘Archie!’ It’s Lily – hair in mad springy ringlets, dressed in a lime green catsuit. ‘Ooh! Who’s this?’

‘I’m Shannon.’

Lily nods at her.

‘Where’s Marcus?’

Lily’s shouting. ‘Marcus is not here! Marcus is a selfish wanker! He couldn’t be bothered with helping me get ready for the party. He couldn’t be bothered to stay.
I’ve had it with him! He’s lovely-looking, OK, and he’s a great musician, but he’s a totally crap boyfriend – completely self-centred.’

No! Why did I bring Shannon?

‘I’m going to chuck him out. In fact, let’s do it now.’

I’m grateful to have an excuse to get off the roof. We follow Lily as she charges downstairs. I’m never ever going on a roof again. I’m quite pleased. I’ve got a really
exciting reason for being scared of heights.

Lily ejects two couples from her bed and starts rushing round the room, stuffing Marcus’s things into bin bags.

‘I’ll leave it outside the front door,’ she says, ‘or maybe I’ll throw it out of the window, or off the roof. What do you think, Archie? Can I hit the
river?’

‘I doubt it, it’s five streets away.’

‘Really?’ It looks closer. She heaves the first bag up to the window, struggles with the lock. ‘There! That’ll show him!’

‘Where’s it going to fall?’ Shannon whispers in my ear. ‘She’s a bit mental, your friend. What’s she on? She’s totally hyper.’

Lily’s holding Marcus’s guitar. ‘This is what he really loves! This and skunk. He’d rather play on his guitar than be with me! He’d rather smoke his skunk than
spend time with me!’ The guitar follows the bin bag out of the window. Far, far away we hear a noise that might be someone shouting.

‘Stop her,’ says Shannon. ‘She’s off her head.’

‘Lily,’ I say, ‘Lil.’

She’s screaming now. ‘Leave me alone! This party was for him! He couldn’t be arsed to turn up! What’s wrong with him? What’s wrong with me?’

Her face is bright red and her eyes are kind of bulging. There’s white froth at the corner of her mouth.

Shannon says, ‘Here, Lily, drink this.’ She’s found a bottle of water from somewhere. ‘Archie, we need some help here. I don’t like this.’

I go and find Oscar, swaying at his decks. I pull at his earphones.

‘Oy! Leave them alone!’

‘OSCAR!’ I yell. ‘Come and help me with Lily!’

‘What about Lily?’

‘I need help!’

Oscar hands the headphones over to Paige. ‘Can you keep it going? Put on that one, it lasts forever. . .’

We get back to the bedroom just in time. Lily’s fighting Shannon, holding her shoulders, shaking her back and forward, screaming, ‘Leave me alone! Leave me alone!’

It takes Oscar and me together to drag her away. She’s developed superhuman strength.

Shannon’s remarkably calm. ‘Stupid cow must’ve taken some sort of upper,’ she says. ‘She’s off the planet. I had to tackle her, she was throwing books and all
sorts out of the window – notebooks, a big metal box of papers.’

Oscar’s shocked. ‘She’s thrown Marcus’s poems out of the window? His music? He’ll never forgive her!’

The music has stopped. I get the uncomfortable impression that everyone’s listening to what’s going on.

‘Leave me alone!’ screeches Lily. The door flies open. Jesus. It’s Marcus. For the first time in years he looks completely awake and absolutely furious.

‘What the hell? What are you doing? You stupid bitch!’ Tears are pouring down his face. ‘My guitar – smashed to bits. My music! My poems!’ Now it’s Lily
who’s being shaken back and forth. ‘What have you done! What have you done?’

Shannon throws water over them, plus the bottle, so they’re soaked, and Marcus gets bopped on the head. The bottle bounces towards Oscar and he expertly catches it.

Lily’s sobbing and retching. The room is full of people. Some girls are taking pictures on their phones.

‘Get out of here!’ I yell. ‘Leave her alone! She’s not well.’

‘Not well – she can’t take it,’ I hear one say. I go on shouting until they’re all gone. They’re all filing down the stairs. I’m standing in the
doorway, yelling at their backs. ‘Go away!’ I shout. ‘Leave her alone!’

I watch as Lily runs up the stairs on to the roof. I watch Shannon and Marcus and Oscar following her. I know I should go after them, but my legs won’t let me.

I just hear the screams when she jumps.

I
might be about to do the most stupid thing in my life. That’s what Claire thinks. In fact, she thinks my life’s going to end
today.

‘Why would he want to see you? And how can he call them off? And how did Archie set this up, anyway – Archie, of all people? Joe – please don’t do this. Things are fine
as they are right now.’

But things aren’t fine. I mean, it’s great that I can spend time with Claire – we talked all night, the weekend she was pretending to be at drama camp – but
everything’s still there. I’m looking over my shoulder all the time. In a way, I’m still in prison.

I’ve had enough of living like a rat in a hole – a scared rat, a guilty rat, a rat who doesn’t know what’s right any more.

And how can I explain to Claire that my bond with Arron goes back so long and so deep that if I don’t take this chance to put it right, then I might never be able to live my life
again?

Friendship means trust, if it means anything at all.

But is Arron still my friend?

We’ve arranged to meet at the station and get the bus to the prison together.

Safety in numbers
, I think, at least there will be lots of mums and families going on that bus together.

But when we meet, we’re the only ones waiting at the bus stop.

‘Archie,’ I say, ‘are you sure you’ve got the time right?’

He nods. There’s something weird about Archie today. He’s not his normal stupid self. He’s not making jokes or showing off. His eyes look larger, somehow, his mouth more
serious. There are dark shadows under his eyes.

‘What’s up?’

‘It’s nothing . . . my friend . . . she had an accident.’

‘Oh, that’s bad.’

‘She might be paralysed. Her back is broken.’

‘Oh, Jesus, that’s really bad. How did it happen?’

‘She fell off a roof. Or maybe she jumped.’ He turns his head away, brushes at his eye. ‘She’d been taking something . . . amphetamines. . . She was out of it.’

‘She fell off a roof and she survived?’

‘A tree broke her fall. I know, she’s incredibly lucky. But it doesn’t feel lucky.’

‘Have you been to see her?’

He shakes his head. ‘I want to. But I’m not – I can’t do it.’

‘Even if she is paralysed, she’s not dead. There’s stuff she can do.’ And I tell him about Claire’s sister Ellie and how amazing she is and how she competed in the
Paralympics and won two silver medals and a gold. He’s not really listening, though. He’s chewing his thumbnail and trying not to cry.

‘Lily wouldn’t do stuff like that,’ he says. ‘I don’t know what she’s going to do.’

‘You can cheer her up,’ I say. ‘Give her a bit of your banter. Go on, Archie, you know you’re the man for the job.’

He smiles. ‘Thanks,’ he says.

Still no bus. Still no one else waiting.

‘Archie,’ I say, ‘there’s something wrong here. You’ve got the time wrong or the day or something.’

‘I’m sure I didn’t. She said Monday, 11 am. I’ll find the text.’

‘Who’s
she
? Someone from the prison?’

He’s scrolling through his texts. ‘She’s called Shannon Travis,’ he says. ‘She’s Arron’s ex and I met her at your boxing club.’

Kazam! The words Shannon Travis hit my brain like a grenade.

‘Shannon? Shannon Travis set this up? Jesus, Archie! We’ve got to run! Get out of here!’

‘You what?’ he says.

And then the car swings round the corner – driving too fast, screeching and swerving. My legs scrabble to get away, but someone grabs me from behind. And I see Archie struggling in the
arms of a masked man, and a gun is crashing onto Archie’s skull, and I’m. . .

I don’t wake up for hours and hours and when I do, we’re lying side by side on a stinking, muddy floor, arms and legs bound with tight rope that rubs and bites into the flesh.
There’s a handkerchief in my mouth and I try and spit it out, but there must be tape over the cloth because all I do is retch. I’m wet with what could possibly be pee. Archie’s
completely still. I can only tell he’s breathing because we’re lying so close together.

I try and nudge him. It’s not easy, but I’ve got some movement in my ankle, so I kick him gently.

His whole body jumps as he wakes up. He starts coughing and choking on the gag right away. I try and get him to shut up, but when you can only communicate by eye movements and kicks, it’s
not easy to get the message across.

Slowly, painfully, I remember how we got here. I remember Archie saying that he’d been at the boxing club. He’d met Shannon Travis.

I bet he thought it was a big coincidence that he met a girl who just turned out to be Arron’s ex. I bet he fancied her too, Shannon was always a looker, even when we were in primary
school.

I bet the minute he walked into that boxing club, Sylvia got on the phone to Shannon and told her to be ready to make a new friend. I bet they’d worked out who Archie was within the
hour.