Mesmeris (22 page)

‘They’ve no idea, have they – about Papa?’ I said.

‘They’ll find out.’

‘Really?’

‘Papa has a plan,’ Jack said.

I went to ask what kind of plan but changed my mind. I didn’t want to know.

‘Forget about him,’ Jack said. ‘It’s just us now - you and me.’

I nodded, smiled and drank more Champagne and I thought how beautiful Jack was and how much I wanted him.

It was as if he read my mind. ‘I would’ve rented a room,’ he said, ‘but they’re all booked up. Leo should be gone by now though.’ His mouth spread into a broad grin. ‘If you’re ready.’

The door opened. I didn’t even turn around, thinking it was the waitress. When Jack’s smile vanished, my skin prickled.

Leo stood in the doorway, grinning. ‘Well, well,’ he said. ‘Guess who I found drinking downstairs?’ He winked at me. ‘Your mates.’ He leaned forwards. ‘Half pissed already.’ He
held his arm out towards the door, like a magician about to unveil a rabbit. ‘Da da!’ he said, and Abbi and Jess walked in, followed by Art.

An awkward moment of silence, then I remembered my manners. ‘Hi,’ I said.

‘Yes,’ Jack said. ‘Hello.’

Abbi turned to Jess. ‘See? Told you she wouldn’t mind,’ she said, her words ever so slightly slurred.

‘Abbi,’ Jess said. ‘Can’t you see they want to be alone? Sorry, guys.’ She looked at Jack. ‘Your brother’s very - persuasive.’

‘When he wants to be,’ I said.

Jack frowned. ‘Thought you lads had somewhere to be.’

‘Cancelled,’ Art said.

‘Great,’ Jack said, lips tight.

‘So,’ Leo pulled two bottles of Champagne from behind his back, ‘let’s have a party.’

They cleared the table noisily and opened the bottles, their loud voices harsh and jarring.

Jack and I looked at each other. ‘Two minutes,’ he mouthed.

I nodded.

The others sat sprawled over the armchairs. Art said virtually nothing, giving me the same unreadable looks as last time. Leo pulled Abbi onto his lap. She squealed and hit his arm but made no real attempt to get off. He was on good form, telling funny jokes, acting the fool, as if he was the nicest guy ever. As he talked, his hand moved up and down Abbi’s thigh, going higher each time. She didn’t stop him.

‘We could all go out later,’ Leo said. ‘Clubbing. What d’you say?’

‘Keeping a low profile,’ Jack said. ‘Remember?’

Leo leaned towards us and spoke in a harsh whisper. ‘He won’t be back for days,’ he said. ‘Chill out.’

Jack stood up, ‘I’m going to take Pearl home.’ He held out my coat.

‘What?’ Leo said. ‘To our place?’

‘Yeah,’ Jack said. ‘Why? Problem?’

‘Oh, Pearl.’ Abbi hurtled across the room towards me. ‘Don’t go. Stay out with us. You can shag him any old time.’

‘Thanks,’ Jack said.

She hugged me tightly, leaned on me just a little too heavily. ‘Love you, Pearly,’ she said.

‘Love you too, Abbs.’ I wondered how long it would be before I saw her again – weeks certainly, maybe even months.

Leo frowned. ‘Do you girls always do this when you say goodbye?’

‘Only when we’re pissed,’ Abbi said.

‘You wanna be pissed with me then, Abbi,’ Leo said.

She arched one eyebrow. ‘Oh, yeah?’

Jess gave me a hug too, but all I could see were Leo’s suspicious eyes, watching me.

Jack moved between us, his back to me. ‘You want something?’

‘What’s going on?’ Leo said.

‘We’re going home – if that’s okay with you.’

‘Fine,’ Leo said, a nasty edge to his voice. ‘Enjoy the old in-out, in-out.’

‘Piss off,’ Jack said.

Outside, Jack said, ‘He’s such a moron.’

And he was – a moron who somehow always knew how to get to me.

‘Come on – let’s get home.’

I hung back. ‘Will the girls be okay with them?’

‘Of course,’ he said.

‘But . . .’

He put his hands either side of my head, ran his tongue between my lips, took the breath from my lungs. ‘Please,’ he said. Then he did it again, more slowly. ‘Because if you don’t, I think I might die.’

I laughed.

‘It’s not funny,’ he said. ‘I’m in pain here.’

I slid my arm inside his coat, felt his warm skin through the fabric of his shirt, and put Leo out of my mind. I turned my head and breathed in Jack’s smell.

He looked sideways at me, smiled that slow, lazy smile of his.

My mouth echoed it.

‘Let me see that dress again.’ He unzipped my Parka and looked at the dress. It felt weird, standing there while he looked me up and down.

‘It’s very . . .’ he swallowed, ‘. . . attractive.’ He turned away, took my hand in his, took one step, then stopped again and looked back at the dress. ‘I think it may look better,’ he said, ‘with that button undone.’ He undid the top button, then the second one. I stopped breathing. He bent his head and kissed my neck, wrapped his arms tightly around my waist, and pulled me hard against him. He lifted his head and looked into my eyes, then at my mouth, then kissed me. Somebody walked past and tutted.

‘Sorry.’ Jack said.

We walked a little further before he stopped again. ‘One more button.’

I didn’t try to stop him, didn’t want to stop him.

He undid a third button and slid his icy hand inside my dress, inside my slip.

‘Oh, sh…’ He took his hand away. ‘Zip that coat up before I get us arrested – and don’t look at me,’ he said. ‘We’ll walk apart - pretend we don’t know each other.’

‘Okay,’ I said.

He strode off, eyes fixed straight ahead and I had to run to keep up with him. His serious face, his frown of concentration, made me laugh, and laughing made me slow. He grabbed my hand without looking at me and pulled me along.

When we reached the flats, we ran up the stairs, two at a time, Jack ahead, me trailing behind. Junkies scattered as we ran past them, frantically scrabbling around to pick up their gear.

My shoe fell off. ‘Wait, wait.’

I leaned back to pick it up, Jack tugging on my other hand the whole time. We made it to the flat. He fumbled in his pocket for the key, looked at me, pushed me against the door and kissed me. One hand wrestled with the buttons of my dress, the other waved the key above my head, looking for the keyhole. His hand slid inside my dress, his tongue inside my mouth and the door swung open. We didn’t make it to the bedroom, only just made it into the flat. We staggered in, mouths still locked together in frantic, hungry kisses. He kicked the door shut behind us. I struggled out of my coat as he tore at my dress. I heard the buttons go, pinging off the dress, felt it slip off my shoulders onto the floor. He paused, looked at me for a second, his eyes huge and dark. Then he fell on me like a starving animal.

I hadn’t expected it to sting, not like that, but I was careful not to flinch because I knew he’d stop. I didn’t want him to stop – and he didn’t. And then I lost myself in him, in the taste of his mouth, the feel of his skin against mine, the power, the rhythm of his body. To me, it felt like something beautiful, sacred even. As if, no one could ever come between us. As if nothing could ever separate us.

Afterwards, he took me to his bed. Then he went back and collected my clothes, folded them and laid them carefully on a chair in the corner. Moonlight streamed through the open blinds. I watched him and thought how lucky I was to have found him.

He was so beautiful, so beautiful that, for some bizarre reason, I began to cry, swamped by senseless foreboding. He climbed into bed beside me and held me in his arms.

‘Sorry.’ I tried to laugh it off. ‘Don’t know why I’m crying.’

‘It’ll be okay, you know,’ he said. ‘Everything’ll be fine.’

I nodded, although I didn’t believe him.

‘I’ll never leave you,’ he said. ‘I promise – no matter what. Now sleep ‘cos tomorrow’s going to be a killer.’

And I did sleep, deeply, without dreaming. I slept with my face pressed against his skin, against his heart, my arm across his chest, as if to stop him ever getting off that bed.

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

A huge crash woke us. The door burst open and ricocheted off the wall.

Jack leaped out of bed.

I pulled the covers up to my chin, my heart punching against my ribs.

A man stood silhouetted in the open doorway. ‘Sorry – sorry.’ Leo’s voice, breathless, frantic.

‘What’s happened?’ Jack said.

Leo shook his head. ‘It was an accident.’

Jack grabbed his shoulders and shook him. ‘What the fuck have you done?’

Leo didn’t answer.

Jack threw my clothes onto the bed. ‘Get dressed, Pearl – quick.’

He picked up his own clothes, pushed Leo out of the room and followed him, shutting the door behind him. I pulled my clothes on with trembling hands, hummed a shaky tune to block out the shouting. I didn’t want to hear Leo’s words, didn’t want to know what he’d done. I was scared to leave the room so sat on the bed and stared at my hands.

‘Pearl!’ Jack shouted.

I jumped to my feet. As I reached the living room, Art smashed through the front door, crashed right through it, sending splintered wood flying everywhere. I screamed. No one else seemed to notice.

‘You fucking idiot.’ Art caught Leo around the throat, smacked him against the wall. ‘You’ve led them here, you stupid shit.’

‘Later,’ Jack said. ‘Let’s get out of here.’

As I pushed my feet into my ridiculous heels, I saw the blue flashing lights reflecting off the ceiling. No sirens, the whole place eerily quiet as even the ever-present boom, boom, boom bass quietened and stopped. I felt weirdly calm, as if I’d known all along this was going to happen, had been expecting it, dreading it. It was almost a relief, now that it was actually happening.

I took Jack’s outstretched hand and followed the three of them out of the flat and onto the walkway. My heels made a racket so I took them off, held them in my free hand. We crept past the stairs. Leo looked over the edge, then shook his head, held his finger to his lips. We drew back into the shadows as five, six, seven armed police crept silently past us, crouched low over their weapons. I didn’t dare breathe. Jack pointed upwards. ‘Helicopter’, he mouthed. The other two nodded. Then I heard it, felt the vibrating air batter my eardrums, heard the shouts of, ‘Armed police. Armed police,’ as they entered the flat.

More heavy footsteps pounded up the stairs. Art heaved himself over the edge of the walkway and disappeared. Leo followed. Jack beckoned to me. I shook my head - couldn’t do it, could not go over that thing. It must have been thirty feet or more from the ground. He grabbed my arms and jerked me to the edge. I pulled back, my instincts screaming no. When he climbed over without me though, a different fear kicked in. I dropped my shoes and followed him, clambered over the parapet. He was there, waiting for me. He showed me where to put my hands, where to put my feet. My muscles pulled, ached. The bricks and cement tore at my tights, scraped the skin off my fingertips, off my toes. I lost my footing for one paralyzing moment. My foot swung free and hit a window. The noise of the helicopter and the police shouts drowned out the clash.

We landed on the ground with a soft thud, in the deep shadow of the building. My shoulders ached, my toes and fingers were torn and bloody but I’d climbed down a building and survived.

‘Shit,’ Leo said, as two coppers came around the corner towards us. They would certainly have seen us if it hadn’t been for the row going on above us. They looked up, smirking as a woman yelled abuse at their colleagues. Art and Leo crept up behind them. At Art’s nod, they caught the police around the neck. They must have compressed their windpipes because neither made any sound although they were struggling. I took a breath, opened my mouth. A hand clamped over it.

‘Shh,’ Jack said, in my ear. ‘Or we’re all dead.’

I nodded, stared at the coppers as their fingers clutched desperately at the arms cutting off their air supply. Art and Leo dragged them out of the light. Jack pulled me past them into the shadow of the next building.

‘Nice one,’ he said, when the others joined us. They smiled, enjoying themselves, as if it was all a game.

The policemen lay on the ground – still, lifeless.

‘Did you kill them?’ I said.

No one answered.

‘
Did
you?’

‘Can’t you shut her up?’ Leo said.

The helicopter played its searchlight over the buildings as it came towards us. We pressed our backs to the wall.

‘Man down!’ Shouts rang out. ‘Man down.’

‘Time to go,’ Jack said.

The noise was disorientating – shouts, sirens seemed to come from every direction all overlaid by the thwack, thwack, thwack of the helicopter. Then the rain came, in a torrent, in waves. Huge, heavy drops hammered onto our heads, bounced off the ground. And I’d left my coat in the flat.

Art spotted some snipers. They lay on the ground, their guns trained on the block we’d just left. We ran away from them, around the back of the building and through some allotments, scurrying from one shed to the next and pausing. At the bottom of the hill, the allotments backed onto an industrial estate. The boys went straight for a broken section in the fence and squeezed through. I followed them. The rain beat down relentlessly. It soaked into the back of my dress, trickled down the back of my neck, around my shoulders and down my front. The back of my head was drenched. The water seemed to get everywhere, in my ears, my eyes, my mouth, everywhere. I couldn’t see anything as I ran, except the ground beneath my feet and the boys’ legs. I heard some shouting but no gunfire and the noises soon faded into the distance. My feet stung, the soft skin shredded by the tarmac. I ran through the pain, afraid to give them any excuse to leave me behind.

We finally slowed down when we reached a housing estate. I didn’t recognise it. I was out of breath, my feet torn and bloody. We stopped in the shelter of some trees and I leaned forwards, tried to get air back into my lungs. I felt hot, sweaty, glad of the cold wind and rain. Art left us and wandered off up the road, hands in his pockets as if he was out for an evening stroll. It wouldn’t have surprised me to hear him whistle. He disappeared around a corner. As we waited for him to reappear, a chill slowly crept over my sodden skin.