Coming Down (3 page)

“
Hey, Rain Girl!”

I whip my head around and nearly drop the books I
’ve balanced precariously in my arms. The grass is teeming with students. The sun beats down. It’s warm enough for girls to be dressed in tiny shorts and skimpy tops. It seems half the boys have taken off their t-shirts, revealing pale skin that’s turning pinker by the second. I can’t see where the voice is coming from, so I shrug and carry on walking. My last lecture has just finished and I’m heading back toward the halls of residence. Clad in jeans and a long-sleeved top, I’m hot and completely overdressed.

“
Over here.” Niall rounds his ‘r’s and for some reason it sounds insanely sexy. I glance to my left and spot him, sitting with a group of friends alongside the lake. He catches my eye and smiles, making my stomach clench.

I want to wave, but I
’m holding too many books. Instead I kind of tip my head to the side and give him a toothy, lopsided smile. I silently kick myself for being so lame, because this is Niall Joseph we are talking about. God of Gods, King of Kings and he’s talking to me.

He
’s still smiling. I begin to feel stupid, standing here goofily, so I raise my eyebrows in what I hope comes across as a nonchalant, see you around kind of expression, and start to walk away.

“
Wait up.” He stands up and half-runs after me. He’s holding a spliff between his index and middle fingers. When he comes to a stop in front of me, he raises it to his lips. He exhales and the breeze wafts the smoke over my face.

“
You want some?”

I shrug and look down at my arms. He follows my gaze and notices how full my hands are. Switching the spliff around in his fingers, he lifts the blunt end to my lips and I
breathe it in. A moment later, I catch his eye and he’s still smiling at me and I don’t know if it’s him or the drugs that’s making me lightheaded. He sticks the spliff back in his mouth and then grabs my books, lifting them easily in his arms. Without even asking me if I want to join him, he walks back to his group.

Of course, I follow him.

Awkwardly, I sit down beside him. His friends are a who’s who of campus elite, either rich, talented or a mixture of both. It’s hard not to feel boring and prosaic in comparison.

Niall puts the spliff back up to my lips, even though my hands are free now.
My cheeks heat up when I realise he’s still staring at me. He has this intensity that makes me want to shiver even though I’m boiling in my long sleeves and jeans.

“
Does she have a name?” The boy sitting on the other side of Niall looks at me. Or I think he does; it’s hard to tell when he’s wearing Ray-Bans and a cap that cover his eyes.

“
She’s called Rain Girl.” Niall’s voice is soft. His lips quirk into a smile and it feels as if it’s just for me.

“
Weird name.” The guy screws up his nose. “And singularly inappropriate for this kind of weather. But I guess it suits you.” He reaches across Niall and shakes my hand. “I’m Digby.”

Digby?

“Hi.”

“
I think I’ll call you after the Greek goddess of rain... who is... um....”

“
There is no Greek goddess of rain, dickhead.” That comes from a girl lying down on her stomach, across the way from us. She has a deep, croaky voice and sounds as if she’s been on sixty a day all her life.

“
Yes there is. It’s Iris.”

Throat girl chuckles.
“She’s the goddess of rainbows, not rain. Zeus is responsible for rain.”

“
I’m not calling her Zeus.”

Thank God for small mercies.

“My name’s Beth,” I say with a small voice. They all stop talking and look at me. Suddenly I understand how a zoo animal must feel.

“
I prefer Iris,” Digby says.

“
Well, it’s better than Zeus,” throat girl says.

Niall just leans across to me and places his soft lips on the sensitive skin just below my ear.
“You’ll always be Rain Girl to me.”

3

I meet Daisy at a cafe on a damp Tuesday morning. She
’s sitting outside at a stainless-steel bistro table under the awning. A half-smoked cigarette is clutched between her fingers. She raises it up to her dry, cracked lips, sucking at the filter, her cheeks hollowing as she inhales. When she breathes out, the smoke combines with the vapour dancing in the air.

“
Would you like a coffee?” I stop next to her. She looks up, almost surprised.

“
Can I have a Coke instead? I’ve got a hangover.”

When I come back out, she
’s finished her cigarette. She has her phone in her hand and is leaning over it. Her lank hair hangs over her eyes. I put her Coke and my over-full coffee cup down on the table. It rocks a little, and coffee sloshes over the rim, spilling onto the metal surface, running toward the edge.

“
How are you?” I sit down and take a sip of coffee. It’s so hot it scalds my lips.

“
Okay.”

“
And Allegra?”

Daisy
tears her eyes away from her phone; her whites look yellow and there are dark shadows beneath them. It looks as though she hasn’t slept in weeks.  “She’s okay.”

I ignore the defensiveness of her tone. She
’s known me long enough to understand I’m not judging her. I’m not her counsellor, either; I’m just here as a friend.

“
She seemed better yesterday when I saw her,” I remark.

She
shrugs and opens her can of Coke. It hisses as she pulls the ring, fizz escaping from the small opening. “She’s barely talking to me.”

“
She’s been through a lot.”

“
So have I.”

I don
’t know how to talk to Daisy when she’s like this; defensive, abrupt, angry at the world. She’s feeling sorry for herself, and when she’s in this mood there’s no getting through to her. Worry for Allegra gnaws at my stomach. I swallow another mouthful of coffee. It’s milky and sweet—exactly how I like it. Even after all these years I try to keep my stimulants mild. The strongest drug I take nowadays is caffeine.

“
Darren’s back.”

My face falls. Darren is her on-again
-off-again boyfriend, and more importantly he’s a dealer. He’s very bad news.

“
Have you told Lara?” I know the clinic has to maintain patient confidentiality where possible, but we also have an obligation to make sure Allegra is safe. We’re going to have to get social services involved again. That’s certain to alienate Daisy and throw her right into Darren’s arms. It’s a catch-22 situation and I hate it, but there’s no other way.

“
Nope.” She takes another swig of Coke. Her teeth are yellow from the drugs and lack of hygiene. Without thinking, I run my tongue along my own incisors. “And I’m not going to,” she adds.

“
You know I’m going to have to tell somebody.”

Anger flashes behind her eyes.
“The fuck you will. You’re meant to be my friend.”

“
I
am
your friend. You know how I feel about Darren. You know how Allegra feels, too. Last time he came around she ended up alone in the house for two days before anybody found her.” I can’t believe we’re doing this again. Darren’s a parasite. It’s as though he has a sixth sense. Every time Daisy starts to improve, he comes around and lures her back again. He feeds her drugs like they’re sweets, and she lets him.

Daisy
rolls her eyes. “He’s different this time. He’s promised me he’s giving it up. The dealing and everything. Wants us to give it another go.”

I feel like crying. I know the lure of promises, the hope this time it will be different.
I’ve seen it so many times over the past few years. Not once have those promises been kept. “You really believe that?”

She nods, looking down at her hands.
“He loves me. And I love him. It’s going to work this time.”

As I drink the last of my coffee, I wonder how long it will be before everything
blows up in her face. When it happens I know I’ll be there to help her clear it all up, the same as last time. Not for her sake, but for Allegra’s. The kid deserves to have a bit of stability in her life.

By the time
I get to the clinic, I’m worried sick about Daisy and Allegra, and need to talk to somebody. To Lara. She’s always been my voice of reason, a friend when I had nobody else to lean on. Seeing her most days at the clinic is one of the reasons I’m on an even keel these days.

Unfortunately, she
has a client with her, so I go up to the office and call Allegra’s social worker. Grace O’Dell is an experienced practitioner; she works with a lot of our clients, and we’ve managed to build a good relationship with her. She’s a no-nonsense type, and when I tell her about Darren I hear her sighing down the phone.

“
I can’t believe she’s being so stupid. Actually, scratch that, yes I can. I’ll put her on my list of visits today.” I can hear her shuffling papers. “Is there a space for Allegra at after-school club?”

“
Of course.” We have a maximum of fifteen, but I can squeeze her in. More often than not, at least one kid doesn’t turn up. “If I arrange for a pick-up can you let the school know?”

“
Yeah, I’ll call them now. At least she’ll have a little bit of normalcy in her life, poor kid.”

“
We’ll do what we can. I hate the thought that she still has to go home afterward.” I want to wrap her up and take her home with me, instead. It’s a dangerous thought. I try to quash it before it can take seed.

“
You can’t be there all the time. Remember what I told you? If you don’t turn it off you’ll burn out. And that won’t do any of them any good. You either, come to that.”

“
I know.” My voice is soft. If I had my way the house would be full of these kids. But social services don’t work that way. Nor does Simon. He’d never let me bring them home.

“
When are you going to come over to the dark side anyway?” There’s a teasing tone in her voice. A smile tries to tug at the corner of my mouth but it comes to nothing.

“
The force is too strong.”

Grace laughs.
“A few years at university, young padawan. Then you can be just like me. Black mask and all.”

“
I’m too old to be a student.” I don’t tell her I tried that before. That I left under a cloud, with much more than my tail between my legs.

“
You’re a baby. Your whole life ahead of you. You’d make a good social worker, once we teach you how to stop getting so attached.”

“
You couldn’t teach me that.”

“
Try me.”

We talk for a few more minutes and I hang up, anxiety still low in my belly.
I can’t help feeling guilty that I’ve told on Daisy, knowing it will almost certainly lead to Allegra getting taken away from her again. It doesn’t matter how crap her mum is, Allegra will hate me if she finds out. I lower my head until it’s resting in my hands, letting out a deep sigh. My whole body aches, as if I’ve spent the morning doing intense physical exercise. I rub my eyes with the heels of my hands.

“
Um, hi.”

I look up. My
brow furrows when I see Niall standing in the doorway. Is it that time already? Christ, where has the day gone?

I can
’t get used to seeing him again.

“
Hi. You’re early.”

The corner of his lip quirks up.
“I wanted to make sure I was prepared.” He glances at me, then gestures at his eyes. “You’ve got mascara under...”

Oh God. My eye rubbing must have left me looking like a clown. I
swipe at the underside with my fingers. When I pull them away, black ink is smudged all over them. “Thanks.”

His smile
only widens. “You’re welcome.”

For a minute I want to wipe
the smirk right off his mouth. Mr Bloody Perfect. His hair is immaculate, his face tanned. His jaw is lightly covered in stubble. He looks like a male model.

I
look a mess.

This does
n’t fit in with my plans. I was going to be cool, calm and collected. I mumble under my breath and stand up from the desk. The movement makes me remember my manners. “Would you like a tour of the place while we have some time?”

Niall nods. He
’s still grinning. His teeth are white and even, the same as mine. Are they real or veneers? My mind is suddenly full of questions. Does he still take drugs? Has he managed to stop?

Did he break down like I did?

I remind myself none of this is my business. He’s only a colleague, a guy who’s agreed to do us a favour. He owes me nothing at all. For some reason, that thought depresses me. I notice that he doesn’t once refer to us knowing each other in the past. We’re pretending we are strangers, even though we’re anything but. It would be funny if it wasn’t so sad.

St
arting the tour on the ground floor, I show him the treatment rooms that aren’t being used, the meeting rooms where we hold after-school club, and the kitchen.

“
This is the most important place.” I fling my arms around the small room. “We have everything you could possibly want; coffee, tea, biscuits... sympathy. Lots and lots of sympathy.”

“
This place is amazing. How long have you been working here?”

“
Almost five years.” We walk up the stairs, toward the admin office. I wave at the staff. They seem more interested in ogling Niall than acknowledging me, not that I can blame them. He’s wearing old, paint-splattered jeans, worn to nothing at the knees and frayed at the hems. They hug his hips in a disturbing way. “And thank you. We all work pretty hard to make it that way.”

“
I can see that.” His voice is soft. “It’s very impressive.”

For some reason that kicks me right in the gut. He still looks like the Niall who consumed my every thought all
those years ago. But, like me, he seems to have grown up. I like it more than I should—like
him
more than I should.

“
We should probably get things ready in the art room.” I suddenly wish the kids were here already. They’re the ultimate ice-breaker; I’d feel much less awkward if they were around. Even my body feels weird. My arms hang limply at my sides, and I don’t know what to do with my hands. I end up balling them into fists, as though it will give me strength.

“
Sounds good,” he says. “Show me the way.”

* * *

Two Saturdays later Lara and I drive to Battersea in her scratched-up Mini. It’s early enough for the streets to be fairly clear. She cranks up her tinny car radio and we sing along to the Arctic Monkeys, trying not to remark on the fact that nearly all of their lyrics seem to be about drugs, drinking or both. They remind me of when I was a student. Everything does at the moment.

“
So where shall we take her?” Lara drums the pads of her fingers against the steering wheel. We’re sat at a zebra crossing, waiting for an old lady to make her way across it. She’s pushing a trolley, and peeping out of the top is the cutest little Scottie dog.

“
We should go to the park,” I say. “It’s a beautiful day and she probably needs to work off some energy.”

Allegra has been in
a group home for five days; ever since Daisy had a fight with Darren and ended up in accident and emergency with a broken cheekbone. She swears it looks more painful than it actually is, but every time I look at her all I can think of is how hard he must have hit her to break such a thick bone.

Allegra saw the whole thing.

“We could go to Battersea Park.”

“
Maybe.” I’ve a hankering for hills. There aren’t enough in London. I miss the way you can climb high and look down and feel so insignificant. I want to feel insignificant, at least to myself. “How about we go to Parliament Hill?”