Black Rabbit Summer (44 page)

Campbell took a breath, calming himself. ‘What did you do with the bit of necklace you had?’

‘I got rid of it.’

‘Where?’

‘In the fire.’

‘You
burned
it?’

‘Yeah… well, you told me to burn all my clothes and stuff, didn’t you?’

‘Christ,’ Campbell said, shaking his head. ‘I told you to burn your
clothes
… I didn’t tell you to burn your fucking jewellery.’ He stared angrily at Eric. ‘Metal doesn’t burn in a bonfire, does it? Shit. If the cops find it, they can match it with the bit they found in Stella’s pocket…’ He paused for a moment, thinking about something. ‘I thought you checked all her pockets anyway?’

‘I
did
,’ Eric said.

‘So how come you didn’t find it?’

‘It was in the little coin-pocket,’ I said.

Campbell stared at me, his face as tight as a drum. ‘How do you know?’

‘The police told me. They showed me the chain –’

‘Did you tell them it was Eric’s?’

‘No, but –’

‘So they don’t know anything, do they?’ A crooked grin cracked his face. ‘As long as you keep your mouth shut, and as long as Eric finds his burned fucking
necklace
before the cops come snooping around, we’re all still cool, aren’t we?’

‘You don’t look too cool,’ I said.

‘You what?’

I gazed steadily at him. ‘What are you scared of, Wes?’

‘
What?
’

‘I mean, if everything happened like you say it did, what have you got to worry about? Stella was blackmailing Eric. The kidnap was all her idea. And you didn’t kill her anyway. It was Pauly.’

‘Nothing to
worry
about?’ Campbell said. ‘We were there when she died, remember? We didn’t report it. We dumped
her naked body in the river, we tried to frame the guy in the caravan –’

‘Why?’

‘Why what?’

‘Why go to all that trouble? Why didn’t you just blame it all on Pauly?’ I looked at Eric. ‘Were you scared of what he’d tell people about you?’

Eric glanced nervously at Campbell.

‘Don’t listen to him,’ Campbell said. ‘He’s just trying to fuck with you.’

‘I just don’t get it,’ I said, shaking my head.

Eric turned back to me. ‘Get what?’

‘You and Wes… I mean, are you
really
that ashamed of him?’

Eric just stared at me, his eyes cold and white in the gloom.

I stared back at him, my heart pounding. ‘What do you think’s going to happen if people find out you’re in love with him? Do you think it’s going to make the newspapers or something? Middle-Class Gay Kid In Love With Council Estate Thug? I mean, come
on
, Eric – do you really think anyone
cares
?’

‘You don’t understand,’ Eric said quietly.

‘No?’

‘It’s nothing to do with being
ashamed
of anything –’

‘You used to be so proud of yourself,’ I said, cutting him off. ‘Remember when you first came out and you used to wear that Gay Pride T-shirt all the time…’ I looked at him. ‘Where’s your pride now?’

‘You don’t know what you’re talking about –’

‘And you,’ I said, turning to Campbell. ‘You’re just scared that no one’s going to be scared of you any more if they find out you’re gay.’ I smiled nastily, taunting him. ‘Tough guys aren’t
supposed to be gay, are they? Tough guys aren’t supposed to fall in love with poofs like Eric – they’re supposed to beat the shit out of them. They’re supposed to
hate
them. I mean, they’re disgusting, aren’t they? Fucking queers, they’re unnatural –’

Campbell hit me then, a vicious crack in the mouth that sent me lurching back into the wall. I wiped blood from my lips and looked at him… and I saw what I was hoping to see. Pure hate. Despite the jagged pain in my mouth, and the jagged fear in my heart, I smiled to myself. I’d got to him. He was losing it. I spat blood on the floor and grinned at him.

‘Tough guy,’ I said.

His eyes went blank as he pulled the knife from his pocket and started moving towards me, and I knew he was without a conscience now. There was nothing to him – no feelings, no emotion, no fear. He didn’t even hate me any more. I was just a thing he had to shut up. A thing he had to cut up. Simple as that. There was nothing I could do to stop him.

I was banking on Eric to do that.

But as Campbell got closer and closer to me, and Eric just stood there doing nothing, it suddenly dawned on me that I was making a big mistake. A
really
big mistake. Eric wasn’t going to do anything to stop Campbell. Why should he? He loved him.

Simple as that.

Campbell was bearing down on me now, his right hand gripping the knife, his left hand still holding the torch… and I knew it was too late to do anything. I couldn’t move. There was nowhere to go. He was too close, too big, too determined.
He’s going to cut me
, I realized.
It’s really going to happen. I’m going to get cut.
And all I could do was stare at him, watching in dumb disbelief as he raised the knife in his hand…

And then all at once Eric was there, barging into him, wrapping
his arms round him, pulling him away from me… and Campbell was fighting back like a madman – twisting and writhing, grunting and cursing, dropping his torch as he tried to break free from Eric’s grip – and the light from the fallen torch was beaming weirdly through the dust-scattered half-light, casting strange shadows across the walls… and as I was standing there watching it all, I felt a sudden black crack inside my head, like the sound of shattering glass, and just for a moment I could see and feel everything all at once. Everything and everyone. I was Stella Ross, the Stella of Pauly’s story. I was a lie. I was Campbell, fighting like crazy. Raymond was Pauly. Pauly was Campbell, out of control, pumped up with madness and drugs. Eric was Nicole, Eric was Campbell, Eric was Eric. Wednesday morning was Saturday night. It was dark outside. A storm was coming. It was bright outside, the sun was shining. I was dead. I was alive…

The inside of my head flashed white.

I was alive.

I was here.

I was Pete Boland.

Eric was Eric, and Campbell was Campbell, and they were dancing together in the middle of the floor… no, they weren’t dancing. They were holding each other in anger. Red-faced, tempers lost, embraced in the passion of a lovers’ fight. They were screaming at each other.

‘You can’t just –’

‘I was only going to
hurt
him, for Christ’s sake.’

‘There’s no
need
–’

‘Fuck your
need
,’ Campbell yelled, pushing Eric away. ‘Shit,’ he spat, ‘we wouldn’t even
be
here if you’d listened to me –’

‘About what?’

‘
Everything.
I
told
you to get rid of your phone –’

‘I was going to –’

‘Yeah, but you didn’t, did you? Now this fucker’s got it hidden away somewhere.’ He shook his head. ‘
And
you fucked up with the necklace.’

‘I didn’t do it on purpose, did I? It was a mistake –’

‘The whole fucking thing was a mistake. You should have told Stella to fuck off in the first place.’

‘I couldn’t, could I?’

‘Why not?’

‘You know why not.’

‘Yeah,’ Campbell sneered. ‘We can’t let anyone
know
about us, can we?’

Eric shook his head and turned away. ‘I’m not getting into all this again. It’s ridiculous –’

‘Don’t turn your back on me,’ Campbell said angrily, grabbing him by the shoulder and spinning him round. ‘I asked you a question.’

Eric glared at him. ‘What are you going to do, Wes? Beat me up?’

It only took a moment for Campbell to whip the knife from his pocket and grab hold of Eric by the neck, but then – just as suddenly – he froze, as if he’d only just realized what he was doing. I saw him look at Eric, his eyes shocked, and I’m sure that if Eric had just waited a second, everything would have been all right. Campbell would have said sorry. Eric would have forgiven him. They both would have calmed down and stopped fighting.

But instead of waiting, Eric started laughing. It was a nasty laugh, cold and mocking, and when he spoke his voice was equally nasty.

‘You’re going to
cut
me now, are you?’ he sneered. ‘You’re going to cut me up?’

Campbell tried to control himself, and I could see him staring intensely at Eric, silently telling him to shut up, that’s enough, no more. But Eric wasn’t in control of himself either. Campbell had pulled a knife on him… he’d pulled a
knife
on him.

‘Fuck you, Wes,’ he hissed, twisting away from Campbell and chopping his arm away. ‘Why don’t you just piss off back to where you belong?’ He turned angrily and started marching towards the steps.

Campbell went after him, his eyes burning black. ‘Hey!
Hey
… who the fuck d’you think you’re talking to?’

Eric ignored him and carried on walking.

Campbell hurried after him, not bothering to say anything now, intent only on stopping him. Eric was just starting to climb the steps when Campbell came up behind him. Eric heard him coming and increased his pace, but Campbell was already reaching out for him now. He made a grab for him, almost caught hold of his belt, but Eric dodged out of his way. Campbell scrambled up the steps and tried to get hold of him again, and this time Eric stood his ground. He was half a dozen steps above Campbell, his feet about level with his head, and the only real option he had was to kick out at him. And that’s what he tried to do – spinning round, launching a kick at Campbell’s head… but Campbell was ready for it. As Eric kicked out at him, he lurched forward and grabbed hold of his leg, pushing Eric back… and then all of a sudden Eric let out a sharp scream of pain and fell to one side, grasping his thigh.

I didn’t think it was anything to worry about at first. I just thought he’d pulled a muscle or twisted his leg or something…

But then I saw all the blood.

I don’t think Campbell meant to stab Eric. I think he was just trying to get hold of him and he forgot that he still had the knife in his hand, or maybe Eric was trying to kick the knife out of his hand or something… I really don’t know. One second I was watching them struggling – and all I was thinking about was making a run for it – and the next thing I knew, Eric was sitting on the steps with blood squirting out of his leg, moaning in agony, and Campbell was crouching down beside him, desperately trying to comfort him.

‘Shit, Eric… I’m sorry… I’m so
sorry
…’

‘It’s all right,’ Eric grimaced. ‘It just won’t stop bleeding. Christ…’

‘Here, let me see…’

As I crossed the basement towards them, Campbell gently eased Eric’s jeans to his knees, and I could see that the knife had caught him on the inside of his thigh, about halfway between his knee and his groin. It was only a small cut, and it didn’t look that bad, but the blood was really pouring out.

‘You need to put pressure on it,’ I said.

Campbell looked up at me. ‘What?’

‘Have you got a hanky or something?’

He just stared at me, too shocked to react. I pulled off my
shirt, ripped off one of the sleeves, and moved round to the side of the steps. I was level with Eric now, and I could see that he was really scared. His hands were shaking. His eyes were white. His skin was very pale.

‘We need to stop the bleeding,’ I told him. ‘OK?’

He nodded.

I folded the sleeve in half and placed it carefully over the wound in his thigh.

‘Give me your hand,’ I said to Campbell.

He looked at me.

I took hold of his hand and placed it on top of the folded sleeve. ‘Keep it pressed down,’ I told him, pushing his hand down. ‘Like this. Not too tight… just keep your hand there and hold it down.’

‘Why’s he bleeding so much?’ Campbell said.

‘It could be a severed vein or an artery…’ I moved to one side and put my hands under Eric’s arms. ‘Help me get him down off the steps.’

‘We need to get him out of here…’

‘No,’ I said firmly. ‘If we start moving him around too much it’s only going to make things worse. Just help me stop the bleeding first and then I’ll call an ambulance. All right? Wes?’

‘Yeah…’

‘Come
on
, are you going to help me or not?’

We got Eric off the steps and laid him down on the floor. While I carefully raised his leg and rested it on the steps, I told Campbell to keep pressing down on the wound. ‘And keep his leg up there,’ I told him. ‘It’ll help to slow down the bleeding.’ I turned to Eric. ‘Try to stay calm, OK?’

Eric nodded. His face was deathly pale now.

I stood up and looked down at Campbell. ‘Give me your phone.’

He shook his head. ‘I got rid of it.’

‘Shit. What about…?’

Eric’s phone
, I was going to say.
What about Eric’s phone?

‘Shit,’ I said again.

‘He’s still
bleeding
,’ Campbell said desperately. ‘We’ve got to
do
something…’

He was still crouched down beside Eric, still pressing down on the wound. His hands were red with blood, his face almost as pale as Eric’s. He didn’t look so tough any more. He looked like a scared little kid. And I wondered for a moment why I wasn’t getting any enjoyment out of this. Campbell was suffering, wasn’t he? And I hated him. I’d
always
hated him. And I’d always wanted to see him suffer. But now that he was… well, it didn’t seem to matter any more.

I looked at Eric.

His eyes were half-closed.

‘Give me his lighter,’ I said to Campbell.

‘What?’

‘His cigarette lighter. Give it to me.’

Campbell dug into Eric’s pocket and passed me his lighter.

‘Stay there,’ I told him, heading up the steps. ‘Keep his leg up and keep the pressure on the wound.’

‘Where are you going?’ Campbell said.

‘Just stay there and wait for the ambulance. When you hear it coming, go outside so they can see where you are. I’ll be as quick as I can.’ I shoved back the metal shelf unit at the top of the steps and hurried out into the daylight.

∗

After the cool underground air of the basement, the sudden heat of the afternoon sun almost knocked me off my feet. I was tired, I suppose. Beaten up and exhausted. And as I scurried around the concrete square, picking up handfuls of twigs and bits of old newspaper, I could feel the sweat pouring down my bare-skinned back, sucking me dry.