Being (14 page)

I just can’t see it.

I looked across at Eddi. She hadn’t spoken to me since we’d left the flat, and she didn’t look back at me now. She was just sitting there, driving in silence, her face cold and blank. I guessed she was still upset with me for not telling her where we were going. Or why. All I’d told her was that if she wanted to know the truth about me, she’d have to come with me and get it from someone else.

‘Why?’ she’d said.

‘Because if you get the truth from me, you won’t believe it. But if you get it from someone else… well, you probably still won’t believe it, but at least you won’t think I’m crazy.’

‘Why should I think you’re crazy?’

‘You’ll find out when we get there.’

She didn’t like the idea of driving off to an unknown place to meet an unknown person in the early hours of the morning, but she’d still gone along with it. I didn’t know why. Maybe she was just curious. Or maybe she thought there was something in it for her. Or maybe she was just scared of what I might do if she refused. Whatever the reason, I didn’t really care. If she
had
refused, I would have had to think of something else, and I didn’t want to think of anything else. The truth was…

Well, that was it: the truth.

That’s what this was all about – finding out the truth. Not for Eddi’s sake, but for mine. I didn’t really care if Eddi thought I was crazy or not, but
I
needed to know. I needed to prove to myself that I wasn’t going mad, that I wasn’t imagining all this, and the only way I could do that was by getting someone else to tell me. Someone who knew the truth.

The real truth.

I looked across at Eddi. She was wearing a little black hoodie over a loose white shirt, a fresh pair of ripped jeans, and a black felt beret, pulled down low to cover the cut on her head. Her lips were shiny with bright red lipstick.

‘What?’ she said suddenly.

‘Sorry?’

‘What are you looking at me like that for?’

‘Like what?’

‘Like you’re
thinking
about me.’

‘I’m not thinking about you.’

‘No? What
are
you thinking about, then?’

‘Nothing. I was just…’

‘Just what? Just looking?’ She glanced across at me, half-smiled, then turned her attention back to the road. I could feel her grinning at my embarrassment as I looked away, and I wasn’t sure if she was making fun of me or just
having
some fun with me. Laughing
at
me or laughing
with
me. And as I gazed out through the windscreen, looking for the moon, I wondered why I cared either way.

What did it matter whether she liked me or not?

What difference did it make?

Why was I even thinking about it?

The moon had gone now. I couldn’t see it anywhere. The road was still quiet and the air was still icy, but in the distance a hazy band of yellowy-grey light was creeping over the horizon, revealing the murky shapes of dawn-lit clouds. The day was beginning to stir.

I glanced at my reflection in the side-view mirror. With my neat blond hair and my designer glasses, I hardly recognized myself. It was like looking at someone else. It felt strange.

‘Are we still going the right way?’ Eddi asked me.

‘Yeah,’ I said. ‘Just keep going. I’ll tell you when to turn off.’

‘How much further is it?’

‘I don’t know… where are we?’

‘Somewhere near Chelmsford.’ She looked across at me, struck by a sudden thought. ‘Hey, this is where you live, isn’t it? Don’t you live in some kind of kids’ Home round here?’

‘Not any more,’ I told her. ‘I left there a while ago.’

‘Where are you now, then? Another Home?’

‘Foster parents.’

‘Yeah?’

I nodded, thinking about Bridget and Pete. Wondering what they were doing… where they were… what they were… what they knew…

‘What are they like?’ asked Eddi.

‘They’re OK,’ I shrugged. ‘Pretty good, actually…’

‘How long have you been with them?’

‘About a year.’

‘Is that normal? I mean, how long do you usually stay with foster parents?’

‘It depends… some kids stay with the same ones forever, other times it’s just for a month or so. It can be anything really – days, weeks, years.’

‘What about you? What’s normal for you?’

‘I’ve never stayed with anyone for this long before. The longest placement I had before Bridget and Pete was four months.’

Eddi looked at me. ‘Why’s that?’

‘I don’t know…’ I smiled at her. ‘I find it hard to get on with people.’

‘But you get on all right with Bridget and Pete?’

‘Yeah, I suppose… I mean, they’re not fantastic or anything, but they’re better than most. Especially Bridget.’

‘Is she nice?’

‘Yeah… she’s a bit hippyish… you know, all Mother Earthy and organic and stuff. And she was always asking me too many questions about feelings and things, which I never knew how to answer… but at least she made me smile now and then.’

Eddi glanced at me as I went quiet. I could see lots of questions in her eyes – why aren’t you with Bridget and Pete now? where are they? do they know where you are? do they know what’s happening? don’t you want to get in touch with them? – but she didn’t say anything. And I was glad she didn’t. Bridget and Pete were part of the other me now, the me that used to be me, and I didn’t want to think about that.

‘It’s not far now,’ I told Eddi. ‘We should be there in about twenty minutes.’

She nodded. ‘How long is this going to take?’

‘Why?’

‘I’m going on holiday – remember? I’m flying out to Spain today.’

‘What time’s your flight?’

‘Seven o’clock tonight. I have to be at Stansted by six at the very latest. And I still haven’t packed or anything –’

‘It won’t take long,’ I said. ‘You’ll be back in London by lunchtime.’

She looked at me. ‘Are you sure?’

‘Yeah.’

‘And you’re definitely letting me go, aren’t you?’

‘Why shouldn’t I let you go? You’re not going to tell anyone about me, are you?’ I looked at her. ‘Because, if you do, I’ll tell them all about you – OK?’

‘OK,’ she agreed.

I could tell by the look in her eyes that she didn’t have much faith in me. I didn’t blame her. I didn’t have much faith in myself either.

We got to Stoneham around seven o’clock. The sun was up now, the early-morning sky streaked with bands of orangey-grey light, but as we drove across town towards the hospital, the clouds rapidly darkened and the rain began falling again, shrouding the streets with a haze of yellowy-black gloom. I gazed through the window, remembering another rainy day… another life, another me…

It all felt weirdly schizophrenic: familiar and unfamiliar, real and unreal, ordered and disordered. Safe and unsafe. It felt as if I was coming home, but I didn’t live here any more. I felt sick and excited, fluttery inside. Like I was hungry, but not hungry. Too hungry to eat.

Like a frightened child.

‘Robert?’

I looked at Eddi. ‘What?’

‘Which way?’

I peered through the windscreen. We’d stopped at a junction. ‘Turn right,’ I said, ‘then follow the signs to the hospital.’

‘The hospital?’

‘Yeah.’

‘We’re going to the hospital?’

‘Yeah.’

She started to say something else, but then someone behind us beeped their horn and she turned her attention to them. An angry look in the mirror, a few choice words, then she put the car into gear and got going.

Five minutes later we pulled into the hospital car park and Eddi slotted the car into an empty space right next to the ticket machine. While she got out and fed some coins into the machine, I checked the pistol in my pocket, glanced at myself in the wing mirror, then picked up my rucksack from the back of the car and stepped out into the rain.

I was beginning to feel vulnerable now.

I was beginning to think that perhaps this wasn’t such a good idea after all. Coming back here… back to where it all started. This was stupid.

I looked around, scanning the car park for watching eyes, but the only person watching me was Eddi.

‘What are you doing?’ she said, leaning into the car and sticking the parking ticket on the windscreen. ‘Who are you looking for?’

‘No one,’ I told her. ‘I’m just looking.’

She stared at me for a moment, then shut the car door and locked it. ‘Right,’ she said. ‘Are you going to tell me what we’re doing here now?’

‘I want you to meet someone.’

‘Who?’

‘His name’s Kamal. Kamal Ramachandran.’

‘Rama
what?’

‘Ramachandran. He’s an anaesthetist. He works here.’

‘An anaesthetist?’ She frowned at me. ‘You brought me all the way out here to meet an
anaesthetist?’

‘Yeah.’

‘Why?’

‘I’ll let him tell you that.’ I started walking. ‘Come on, it’s this way.’

As I led Eddi along the driveway towards the main hospital building, I couldn’t stop looking around all the time, looking out for the things I didn’t want to see – silver eyes, hard faces, wrong faces, men in suits, men in coats. Ryan’s people. They could be anywhere. They could be anyone – people in cars, sick people in wheelchairs, people hanging around smoking cigarettes. In an alleyway at the back of an annexe building, away from public view, a group of whistling men in dull green overalls were loading large sacks and plastic bins labelled medical waste into the back of a white Transit van. They could be Ryan’s people. I just didn’t know.

‘Are you all right?’ Eddi asked me.

‘Yeah.’

‘Is there someone here you don’t want to see?’

‘Possibly…’

‘Are they looking for you?’

‘Probably.’

‘How many of them?’

‘I don’t know.’

‘What do they look like?’

‘I don’t know.’

She looked at me.

‘Suits,’ I said. ‘Men in suits… I don’t know who they are. I don’t know what they look like.’

She smiled at me. ‘But you think they’re wearing suits.’

We carried on walking.

When we got to the hospital entrance, I started feeling sick and empty inside. My stomach was hurting. My skin felt raw and tingly. I stopped outside the doors. Eddi looked at me.

‘Aren’t we going in?’ she said.

‘No, this’ll do.’

The area around the entrance was dotted with cigarette smokers – hunched over in the rain, puffing and coughing away. The air stank of smoke and the ground was littered with flattened cigarette ends. It wasn’t very nice. But I just couldn’t face going inside. All those corridors and waiting rooms, all those hospital trolleys and operating theatres… they brought back too many bad memories.

I glanced up at a CCTV camera over the door. Then I looked back over at the car park. It was a long way away.

‘Does this Ramalamadingdong guy know we’re here?’ asked Eddi.

‘It’s Ramachandran,’ I said.

‘Whatever – does he know we’re waiting for him out here?’

I didn’t answer. A nurse had just come out of the hospital, walking briskly, looking at her watch.

‘Excuse me,’ I said to her. ‘Do you know –’

‘I’m off duty,’ she said without stopping. ‘Ask at reception.’

I watched her scurry off into the rain.

Eddi glared at me. ‘He
doesn’t
know we’re here, does he?’

Again, I didn’t say anything. She stared at me for a
moment, shaking her head, then she turned away and lit a cigarette.

While she smoked, I just kept my eyes on the doors and waited.

After a while, another nurse came out. This one looked friendlier than the last one. More approachable. Less hurried. I let her move away from the doors, then I walked up beside her.

‘Excuse me,’ I said. ‘I’m sorry to bother you…’

She didn’t stop walking, but she didn’t tell me to go away either. She just kind of smiled at me, waiting for me to go on. I glanced over my shoulder as Eddi walked up behind me, then I turned back to the nurse and smiled back at her.

‘I’m looking for someone who works here,’ I said. ‘Kamal Ramachandran. He’s an anaesthetist. I’m not sure what –’

‘Kamal?’ she said, suddenly stopping. ‘Kamal Ramachandran?’

Her face had changed now. She looked awkward, disconcerted. Her eyes were uncertain, her smile had gone.

‘Do you know him?’ I asked her.

She glanced at Eddi, then turned back to me. ‘Was he a friend of yours?’

‘No, not really. I had an operation here a while ago, and Kamal was…’

Was?

Was
he a friend of yours?

I looked at the nurse. ‘What do you mean –
was
?’

She touched my arm. ‘I’m sorry,’ she said gently. ‘Kamal passed away on Monday night.’

‘What?’

‘His car went off the road –’

‘He’s
dead?’

She gave my arm a slight squeeze. ‘I’m so sorry,’ she said. ‘I didn’t know him that well –’

‘Was he on his own?’

‘What?’

‘You said his car went off the road.’

‘That’s right.’

‘Were any other cars involved?’

She looked slightly puzzled. ‘No… I don’t think so. It was late at night, the roads were icy. He took a corner too fast –’

‘And this was on Monday?’

She nodded again. ‘Are you all right?’

No, I wasn’t all right.

Kamal was dead.

Nothing was all right.

I don’t know what happened to me then. Just for a moment, something went dark inside my head. A crack of blackness. Then everything was whirling, spinning, like a terrible black wind…

And then, without any warning, it just stopped. Everything suddenly cleared, my eyes opened and I could see all around me. I could see the nurse walking away from me and Eddi just standing there, looking at me. And over at the hospital doors, I could see a man in a dark suit, talking on a mobile, his eyes fixed on me. He could have been a doctor, or a hospital manager or something… but I knew that he wasn’t. Doctors and hospital managers don’t look like that. They don’t have hunters’ eyes. They don’t have killing faces.

The man in the suit had both.

He knew I was on to him now. He’d seen me looking at him, seen the look on my face. He knew. And, just for a second, he paused – thinking about it, making decisions – then he put his phone in his pocket and started moving towards me. Not running, but walking fast.