Coming Down (23 page)

He smiles
, though it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. He’s too busy looking at me with concern. “Did Cameron Gibbs say something to you?”

Niall
’s more perceptive than I give him credit for. Damn him.

“
It wasn’t like that. He wasn’t being a pain or anything. I just asked him to keep an eye on Allegra and he was reporting back.”

He looks more confused than ever.
“Keep an eye on her? Why?”

The temptation to let everything spill out is overwhelming. I
’m desperate to share this information with somebody, but half of it is probably confidential, while the other half paints me in a terrible light.

“
I don’t even know where to start.” When I look up, Allegra’s walking over to us, holding her painting out for me to see. It effectively silences any conversation we can have about her, still I don’t feel the relief I expect to. Instead, I experience a pang of regret. I want to hear what he has to say, because his opinion matters to me.

So when Niall turns and
mouths “Later” to me, I find myself nodding in agreement.

24

An hour later, the classroom is empty of children. The white-painted walls no longer echo with their excited chatter, though the paint-splattered floor is evidence they were here. We share the cleaning as usual, with Niall pegging their starry paintings on the drying line we’ve strung across the ceiling, twelve pieces of paper swaying in a gentle breeze. We seem to have fallen back into the old rhythm of washing, stacking and making the occasional comment. It’s as if we both know we will be talking later. For now, we can just be.

Although
it’s hard to simply
be
when Niall brushes past me. The second time he does it, I wonder if it’s on purpose. He’s very good at being surreptitious. By the time I think to comment, he’s on the other side of the room, and I’m opening and closing my mouth like a demented fish.

The feelings I have for him are confusing. A mixture of nostalgia and desire,
maybe, but there’s something more, too. An ache to be with him, to know what he thinks on every subject. I want to get to know him all over again.

I want him to know me.
The real me.
The one I’ve been trying to suppress ever since Digby’s death. The one I thought I’d left behind. It turns out she was here all along, waiting for me to find her for real.

And I think I
like her.

“
We done?”

Niall smil
es at me. There’s a smudge of black paint along his jawline and without thinking I reach out to wipe it. Like a reflex response, his hand circles my wrist, keeping my fingers resting on his jaw.

Neither of us breathes.

“You have paint,” I finally say. “On your face. Black paint.” Am I making sense? I’m not even sure.

He unclenches his fingers from my wrist and moves his hand up to cover mine.
“Have I?” Not once does he move his eyes away from me.

My palm presses harder
on his rough skin. His beard is starting to emerge. It’s scratchy, but somehow I like the way it feels. As I stand there, my thoughts drift back to that night in his flat, remembering how his jaw felt against my neck, my chest, my cheek. It burned in such a sensual way.

Reluctantly, I pull my hand away and let it rest on my hip.
“I guess it’s time to go back to my glamorous bedsit.”

“
Are you liking it there?” Though his voice is even, his eyes are still dilated. I like the way I affect him.

“
It was a bit weird at first, getting used to just living in one room. It’s nice to have somewhere I can call mine, though.”

“
What do you do in the evening? Do you share the cooking with your housemates?”

I laugh, thinking of the take
away cartons scattered around our tiny kitchen. “No, I hardly see them to be honest. I think they prefer kebabs to nouvelle cuisine.”

“
You don’t sit and watch telly with them?”

“
We don’t have a living room.” It was strange at first, realising there was no communal space. I guess the landlord wanted to squeeze every penny he could out of his real estate. What used to be the living room is now a third bedroom. “The only time I see them is when I’m making a cup of tea. It isn’t so bad.”

His nose screws up.
“What does Simon think? Won’t he pay for something better for you?”

“
I don’t want him to. It isn’t his choice I moved out. I don’t want to look as if I’m sponging off him.”

It would feel so wrong. Everything
Simon has, he owned before we got married. Even at our lowest, the last thing I thought about was taking him for all he had. It’s his money, not mine. I’d like it to stay that way.

“
It seems unfair that he has everything and you’re living in a dingy room. You know the offer of my spare room still stands.”

It would be so easy, moving into his place, drifting into a relationship; maybe never leaving, but if Niall and I are ever going to be together it won’t be by default
. This time I want any relationship to be on an equal footing.

“
It’s fine. Just somewhere to stay while I work everything out. They don’t make too much noise, don’t have crazy parties. They just keep to themselves.”

Diane and Peter. It even took me a few day
s to remember their names. These are people I’m sharing a bathroom with.

“
Well, any time you need to escape, you know where I am.” He doesn’t say any more, just walks over and grabs his jacket from a hook at the back of the room. “Do you want a lift home?”

I try not to laugh.
My flat’s in completely the opposite direction of his place and he knows it. I’m about to refuse when an idea pops into my head. “Actually, do you have enough time to take a detour? I just want to check on something.”

* * *

His car still stinks like a tepid pond. It doesn’t appear to have been cleaned since I was last in it, and I find myself kicking an empty water bottle, wondering if it’s been in the foot well all this time. He climbs in on the driver’s side and stretches his long legs out to press the clutch down, and I try not to watch as his thigh muscles push against his jeans.

“
So, where are we going?”

“
Do you know the Whitegate Estate?”

He turns and catches my eye.
“Only by reputation.” His voice is low. “Why do you want to go there?”

I take a deep breath and let my head fall back on the headrest.
“Allegra MacArthur lives there with her mum.”

“
Okay…”

“
I want to check she’s all right.” I look at him again, and he’s waiting patiently for me to expand. For a moment, I sit and try to work out the right words. “Her mum has this on-again off-again boyfriend and I think he might have hurt her in the past. I want to go over and see if he’s back hanging around there.”

“
He left?”

Another deep breath.
“After he landed Daisy in hospital with multiple injuries. Now I hear he might be back.”

“
Why not call somebody? The police or social services?”

It
’s a good question, though not one I’m particularly delighted about answering. “Because I did a stupid thing,” I admit. “I asked Cameron Gibbs to keep an eye on her and let me know if Darren came back.”

“
Darren’s the boyfriend?” Niall clarifies. He gives up trying to start the car and turns to face me. “The one who beats them?”

“
Yes. I know it’s stupid, but I can’t call up social services just to tell them he’s been hanging around the estate. It’s only hearsay; they’d laugh at me. If I could just see for myself, then at least I’d have something to tell them.”

“
And if he isn’t there?”

“
Then I can go home knowing Allegra’s safe.”

He reaches out and runs his finger along my cheekbone. The intimacy of the gesture is almost painful.

“Okay, let’s go. But if you get out of the car I’m coming with you.”

It takes a while to get there. The evening rush hour halts our progress every few blocks, and we idle in long queues while motorbikes and couriers flash by, weaving in and out of the vehicles.
Neither of us says very much, because I’m too busy worrying about Allegra, and Niall’s too busy concentrating on the road.

Eventually
, he leans forward and switches on the radio, and the drive-time D.J. introduces the all-request hour. The Fray comes on, and our eyes meet. This song was in the charts the year Digby died. As the bittersweet melody fills the interior of the car, I wonder if Niall listened to it as much as I did.

“
I hate this song.” Niall flicks off the radio.
How to Save a Life
fades away.

“
It was everywhere that summer… I couldn’t escape it. And every time I listened to it, I felt as if I was being judged.”

“
You’re not the one who deserved judgement. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

The silence is so heavy it actually hurts. I can feel his pain dissolve into my own.
“We were just kids, Niall. It wasn’t your fault.”

“I gave him that tab. Whose fault was it?”

We come to another stop behind some temporary traffic lights. Somebody beeps their horn.

“You gave me one, too, and I’m still alive,” I say firmly. “It was one of those things. The blame doesn’t lie on you.”

“It doesn’t lie on you either. When are you going to realise that?”

When I close my eyes I can picture Digby palming the tablet as Niall passes it to him. All three of us swallowing tiny white pills. Looking for ecstasy and
finding only death.

“
I should have listened to him. When he said he felt ill.”

Niall
’s fingers tap against the steering wheel in a silent rhythm. “The poor guy never stood a chance. He was diagnosed with a congenital heart defect in the post-mortem. Did you know that?”

I shake my head, f
eeling the nausea rise in my stomach the way it always does when I think about him and about those days.

“
I read it in the papers. It came out in the inquest.”

That would make sense. I stopped reading anything after the first two days. Seeing myself vilified in print was more than I could bear.
“He still wouldn’t have died if it wasn’t for the E.”

“
True. But none of us knew what would happen, including him.” He tips his head to the side, and looks at me with a curious expression on his face. “Do you still think about it a lot?”

“
Yes,” I reply. “For a long time I couldn’t think of anything else. It’s taken me forever to forgive myself for not following him that night.”

Niall
’s voice is thin. “He would have died anyway. You know that, don’t you? It wasn’t our fault.”

“
But he wouldn’t have died alone.” That’s the worst thing. Knowing he was suffering without anybody looking after him.

“
True.” The cars ahead of us start to move, and Niall follows them, inching his Fiesta along the tarmac. “But it is what it is. Do you know what I mean? Eventually you just have to accept that it happened and try to move on. That’s what I’ve been attempting to do.”

“
I know.” He’s right. I know he is.

“
Is that why you work at the clinic? To atone for his death?”

I give him a small smile.
“At first, I think. Now I work there because I love the kids. They’re the victims in this, and the potential addicts of the future. If I can make a difference, it’s all worth it.”

“
You do make a difference. I can promise you that.”

When we pull onto the Whitegate E
state my heart speeds up. The streets are empty save for piles of trash littering the pavements and a burnt-out, abandoned car haphazardly parked on the side of the road. I direct Niall toward the park, thankful his car is dilapidated enough not to stand out.

We stop short of the playground, where a cluster of kids are hanging off a spinning roundabout, hair fanning out in the breeze. The swings have been commandeered by te
enagers who use them as benches. A few of them smoke from half-used cigarettes as they try to look achingly cool.

Eventually, I spot Allegra crouched under the slide, playing some
sort of game with another girl—a white-haired, pretty little thing who looks about the same age.

“
You okay?” Niall asks. I don’t know whether it’s from genuine concern for my well-being, or just something to cut through the silence. Either way I answer him.

“
Yeah, I’m just looking for Darren. Cameron said he was hanging around here the other day.”

“
Only kids here now.”

“
Yep.” I wonder if Darren takes a break when the children arrive. I can’t believe he does; after all, the teenagers are probably his best customers. I still can’t get rid of that nasty taste in my mouth. If I were a psychic I’d say I could feel him. There’s just something a little off about this whole situation.

“
You want to get out? Take a look around?”

I crane my head to look at the tower blocks surroun
ding the green space. Standing like sentinels, they’re identical in design, all constructed from the same dull concrete. Something about them makes me shiver.

“
Can we drive to that building?” I point to the block where Daisy lives, trying not to think about the last time I came here. It feels like a lifetime ago. “I want to pop in and see Daisy.”

Even I
’m surprised at my words. They come out before I really get a chance to think them through, but as soon as they do I’m sure it’s the right thing. Go up and see her, maybe say something about Allegra forgetting something. Reassure myself that Darren isn’t back.