Please Don't Stop The Music (26 page)

I
took a deep breath. ‘All right. But listen up because this is a
once-only story.’

‘
I’m
listening, Jemima.’ Then a little grin. ‘Figure of speech. But I’m
here.’

Where to begin? As someone once said, at the beginning … With
thoughts and memories I’d blocked and denied for so long that even
I couldn’t be sure how accurate they were. Rewritten and reworked
they might be, edited for all those snaggy moments of sibling
rivalry and parental arguing, but they were all I had. It was time
to own up to them. ‘I had a great life. A Mum and Dad who loved all
three of us completely. A good school, nice house, I had riding
lessons twice a week and the boys did rugby and … never mind. It
was normal, you know?’

Ben
didn’t move. Kept his eyes fixed on my face.

I lowered the barrier even further, until
images came with the emotions, pictures of twisted metal, and I had
to work not to let it all come screaming back in full technicolour.
‘When I was fifteen there was an accident. A stupid,
stupid
accident,
something so random … Mum was driving Dad to work. She wanted the
car because hers was in the garage or something, so she was going
to drop him off. I had a competition to go to, show jumping I
think, and she didn’t want me to miss out so she … And they
crashed. No-one knows what happened, she just lost control and hit
a bridge.’ I rubbed my chest, trying to ease an ache that would
never heal.

Ben
hadn’t even blinked. ‘And they both …?’

‘
Yes. We were told it was instantaneous but – you always
wonder, don’t you? Anyway. There was no family to take us in.
Randall was sixteen, but he was told he was too young to be allowed
to take charge of us because Christian was only twelve. So they
were going to split us up and put us in foster homes.’ I looked
down at my hands, knitting my fingers in my lap. Only realised what
I was doing when Ben reached across very gently and tipped my head
back up so he could see my lips. ‘We ran away.’ A burp-like giggle
escaped. ‘We were so naïve, you see. Stupid, middle-class kids who
thought real life was like some kind of early-evening kids’ TV,
living in an empty house, taking food from the supermarket to eat.
But we were scared. We’d lost our parents, we didn’t want to lose
each other too, and we thought we’d only have to wait until Ran was
eighteen, and then he could adopt us and we’d get a flat and live
together and … Too much TV, as I said.’

Ben
sighed. It had a catch in it.

‘
And then this gang found us. We were hiding
out in a disused warehouse, starving because none of us knew how to
shoplift, we were all too scared of getting caught, and it turned
out we were hiding in a crack den.’ I gave a sudden, shocked laugh.
‘We didn’t even know what a crack den
was
. But these guys, they took us
in, me and Ran and Chris and they looked after us. Properly, I
mean, they got us a place to live and food and stuff. And okay, so
we didn’t go to school much or anything but we were together,
things were fine. Say what you like about street gangs, but they
look after their own.’

‘
You joined a
gang
?’ Ben’s surprise was almost
comical.

‘
We talked posh. Well, according to them we
did, anyway. And it’s surprising what people will believe from
someone who talks “posh”. The gang used us, con tricks,
distraction, that kind of thing.’ I took a long, deep breath. ‘I
got the mark, I went on jobs. I was
good
.’ I defied Ben to speak but he
stayed silent, watching me.

Breathe, Jemima. Breathe. It’s all over now.

‘
Despite it all, Ran and I stayed clean, it was the only way
to be ahead of the game, to be in control. But Chris … he joined a
band.’ I gave a smile which was like a humour black hole. ‘Always
loved his guitar, did Christian. Obsessive. Thought he’d make it
big, get discovered, that kind of thing. He thought he could handle
anything, he was very young, didn’t know what he was getting into,
he didn’t know how hard it would be to get out of, he thought he
could drop it any time but –’ I stopped.

Ben
leaned forward and refilled my glass. ‘We’re talking about what?
Heroin?’

I
talked to my drink. ‘Have you ever? Tried it, I mean?’

Ben
shook his head. ‘Nah. Hate needles, hate smoke. I’ve done most
things but not smack. I know Zafe did it once or twice but …’ he
shrugged. ‘Nothing heavy.’

‘
It
was heavy for Chris. Five years it took but eventually … he dumped
the band, vanished for days, turned up rambling and sick. Even …’ I
gave a strangled hiccup of ironic laughter. ‘Even sold his guitar.
We tried to straighten him out, Ran and I, but –’

‘
You
have to want to stop. I should know. No one can tell
you.’

Despite the cosiness of the little room the air felt like a
corpse. I should have known Ben wouldn’t flinch at this story. I
should have trusted him.

‘
While this was all going on I … got
together with Gray. Ran warned me off him, told me to keep away
but, I dunno. He was sexy. Dangerous but sexy. And I was seventeen,
thought I was in love, so of course I wouldn’t listen to my
brother, I mean, what did
he
know –’ My voice cracked and I took a deep gulp
of the whisky, even though it was bitter and hot in my throat. ‘I
thought love was meant to be like that.’

I could see Ben open his mouth to ask what
it
had
been like,
then think better of it. A little shiver ran over his skin and I
saw the goosebumps rise.

‘
Then Chris OD’d. One day, down a back alley in Bristol. He’d
been sold some stuff that was pure and we didn’t find out for a
week.’ I tilted my chin up to stop my voice cracking. I could still
smell the smoky, foul odour that I’d grown to associate with
Christian, still taste the fear at the back of my throat. ‘Ran
found the guy who’d supplied Chris. It took time to track it all
back, but he found him. Killed him.’ I licked my lips. There were
no tears. Not now.

‘
Wow.’ Ben rubbed the back of his neck. He was about to say
more but I leaped in. He had to know it all.

‘
I was there, I begged Ran to stop but he
wouldn’t. Just kept on and on …’ I half covered my ears as though I
expected the echoes still to be sounding. ‘I called an ambulance,
and I lied, Ben. Told them that there was another gang trying to
take over the area, that there’d been a fight. Oh, the police found
out I was making it up, of course, it was hardly CSI and I’m not
exactly a criminal mastermind. They got hold of Randall, open and
shut case. I went to prison as an accessory.’
The cells, the noise, the relentless banging. No peace. Never
any peace, not now.

‘
But
why? Why all this, over something that wasn’t your
fault?’

‘
Because the dealer was Gray.’ I drained the
nearly full glass in one gulp. ‘And now you know. My judgement in
men is so crappy that I spent nearly five years with a guy who was
dealing heroin and I didn’t know. He was selling to my own
brother
and I didn’t
know
.’

‘
Shit.’ Ben put down his glass.

I
started talking quickly. ‘Ran went down for murder. For life. I was
only inside six months and while I was there I learned to make
jewellery so I took that and I ran away.’

‘
And
you’re still running?’

I
nodded. Five years of running, of setting up and moving on. Of
living in people’s spare rooms, in guest houses and squats. Of
making just enough money to eat.

‘
But
why? What are you running from?’

‘
Memories.’ I held out my glass for a refill and was proud of
the way my hand didn’t shake. ‘I’ve blocked this all out. There’s
some kind of psychologist’s word for it, but I’m good at not
remembering now, if I don’t try it all stays dark. Ran died in
prison. Knife fight. And once he was gone there was nothing to hold
me, nothing to stay anywhere for. So I’ve kept on travelling. It
keeps … it keeps the memories from surfacing. That’s why I didn’t
know anything about Willow Down. I was abroad, working anywhere I
could get a bed for the night. I’d make a few pieces and sell them
to get enough money to move on whenever …’ I tailed off.

‘
Whenever you felt you were getting settled? Oh,
Jemima.’

I
drained another glass. ‘And my name isn’t Jemima. It’s Gemma. Gemma
Bredon. I chose Hutton off the map one day when I was passing
through. York seemed such a nice place. Then I started supplying
Saskia regularly. I met Rosie and I thought – I thought it might be
different this time.’

Ben’s eyes were immense in the lamp light.
‘And I thought
I
was damaged,’ he said softly.

The
whisky was making my head swim. ‘I’m pissed,’ I
announced.

‘
You
wouldn’t have told me, not without a bit of Dutch courage.’ Ben
held out an arm and hauled me to my feet.

‘
I
wanted you to know.’ His body was pressed against me, I could feel
every bone through his clothes and smell the fresh, clean scent of
him. His hair brushed against my neck. ‘But I thought you might
hate me for it.’

‘
Jem. What kind of guy do you think I am?’

‘
It’s the fact you’re a guy. That’s all.’

He
frowned. ‘What’s that supposed to mean?’

I
rocked on my feet. ‘You know you said you didn’t date? Because you
were afraid, of rejection, of not being perfect, of –’ I gestured
rather wildly. ‘Of whatever,’ I finished. ‘I don’t date because I
don’t want to make those mistakes again.’

I
felt him flinch he was so close to me. ‘Like how?’

‘
Look. Gray wasn’t – he wasn’t exactly the perfect boyfriend,
you know what I mean?’

‘
Jem
.’ He breathed
it rather than saying it.

‘
There were other girls. And he’d flaunt it,
tell me who he was getting off with, what they did for him that I
didn’t. And he’d make me … He used me for everything, I was like
his toy, you know? Something for him and his friends to play with,
something that would take anything,
do
anything. And yeah, I knew deep
down that’s not how it should be, but – I stayed. And, since then,
I’ve promised myself no men. Nothing. Until I can feel that I’m a
person, you know? In my own right, a something. Not just a
thing
bringing nothing
to the relationship except my body.
That’s
why – I thought I was making
it, with Saskia’s shop stocking my buckles and my website and
everything and now, one by one, it’s all going down the pan and I’m
right back where I started.’ I caught the sob before it escaped.
‘And I won’t be used again, Ben. I won’t.’

He took half a step away. ‘You think
I’d
use you? Christ,
Jem, it’s not like that, not at
all
.’

‘
I need to know that when … if … I walk
away, I’m still the person I was. That I’m not losing myself by
giving myself to someone. I can’t trust and I can’t …
won’t
depend on anyone
for anything. So you can see, I’m not really girlfriend material.’
I stopped, aware of how stupidly close we were to one
another.

‘
Jem, we’re friends. You must know that, even with all the
shit that you’ve had before, you must recognise a good thing when
you see it?’

Now it was my turn to step back, to widen
the physical gap as the psychological one was becoming a chasm.
‘You mean that because you’ve got all this …’ I swept an arm round
indicating the house. ‘That I’m supposed magically to throw off the
memories of everything that’s happened to me? Because you’ve got
cash to spare, suddenly the death of my brothers
doesn’t matter
?’ My
voice was icy.

‘
That’s not what I meant at all and I think you know it.
You’re using your past to stop you from having to make yourself a
present.’

‘
You
know nothing about it.’

‘
Yes, I do.’ His voice was low. I had to lean a little closer
to hear him. ‘What do you think I was doing, Jem? Pushing everyone
away, keeping the deafness secret? It was all so that I never had
to face up to it. If I never told anyone then maybe it wasn’t real,
maybe I wouldn’t have to live with it forever. That’s what you’re
doing, denying the problem, moving on whenever life starts to get
real just so you never have to face it.’

‘
You know
nothing
,’ I repeated and stalked out
of the room feeling the weight of his gaze on my back. I looked
over my shoulder, just once, to see him raking his hands through
his already dishevelled hair and rubbing his tired-looking face and
I almost turned. Almost. I wanted him so much that it ached. But
why would things be any different here, with him?

Chapter Seventeen