Seven Days (20 page)

“Not any more,” Mum whispers. “Not any more.”

It’s ten o’clock, I don’t want to go online at all, I want to go back to bed, but Mum tells me to. She says I need to block Kez and her lot, that way I won’t get to see all the nasty comments they keep making. So I log on. Straight away I see that I’ve been tagged in an update by Kez. My heart sinks. Surely she’s done enough? But I make myself click on it.

You can’t get to me, Kez. Not now. Not again.

I read her message once and then again. It’s cold and bleak and it’s wrong.

KEZ: I’ve realized now, what I am. I’m not a good person. I can’t carry on like this. Trouble is, I don’t know how to stop, but
Jessica Pearson
never deserved this.

Something just clicks into place. A bad feeling swoops through me.

I quickly search for the only person that might be able to help.

Thankfully, he’s there. He’s waiting.

Lyn.

“Are you sure this is the right thing to do?” I ask him.

“I guess. She’s not answering her phone. We need to check she’s OK, don’t we?”

We’re standing outside Kez’s house. It’s beautiful, like the places you see on TV dramas, all neat and tidy and perfectly designed.

“I’ve not actually been inside before, she always kept me away,” Lyn says, squinting up at the netted windows. “But I walked past once. She didn’t know. I just wanted to see what it was like.”

“It’s lovely, isn’t it?”

“You wonder why she wants to hang around the Estate all the time. Why is she always hiding away from here?”

I walk over to the front door and ring the bell. It’s a nice, friendly chime. Welcoming. We both stand back and wait. Lyn stuffs his hands in his pockets and rocks back on his heels. He looks so awkward, out of place. Maybe that’s why Kez kept him away? Is it wrong that I want to touch him? But then I remember what Kez told me and I step away.

He was never interested.

The door opens slowly and a tiny, thin woman peers round. She has short dark hair and an angular, sharp-looking face. I notice she has a large bruise on her cheek and some yellowing under her eye, like a nicotine stain. She’s trying to keep her head turned away so we can’t see it, I’m sure of it. I can tell she’s Kez’s mum though from the bright blue eyes.

“Hi,” I say. “Is Kez in?”

She rolls her eyes. “Kez does as she pleases. She disappeared out about half an hour ago. She was home late last night and then was up with the birds.”

“Oh.” I hesitate before asking. “Did she seem OK?”

“I didn’t see her, just heard the front door slam.” She blinks rapidly a few times. “Look, is there a problem? I must admit it’s odd for her to be up so early. Is she OK?”

Lyn steps forwards. “Sorry to burst in on you like this, we’re just a bit worried about her. Did she leave a note or anything? Say what time she’d be back?”

Kez’s mum shakes her head. “Oh, you better come in. I’ll go and check.”

We step into the hallway. It’s huge and shiny, every area seems freshly polished. I’m scared to step too far in case I mark anything. Kez’s mum gestures for us to wait there, while she dashes back upstairs.

“Who’s that?”

A voice booms from a room above. I see Kez’s mum freeze briefly on the stair and then she calls up. “It’s nothing, love, just friends of Keren’s.”

“Tell them to go, then; Keren won’t be allowed friends round here, little cow.”

I turn to Lyn and he pulls a face at me, this is suddenly very uncomfortable. I hear the thud of footsteps, the slam of a door and then a man appears at the top of the stairs. He is large and red faced, a blue dressing gown pulled tight around his large middle.

“I’m Keren’s dad,” he booms. “Why are you here?”

“We’re just checking she’s OK,” Lyn says calmly.

“And why wouldn’t she be OK?” His voice is like ice, hurtling towards us. “Surely I should know?”

“It’s probably nothing…” I start to say, but am interrupted by a piercing scream coming from another room. All our heads turn.

Kez’s mum staggers out towards us. She seems almost unable to hold herself upright. “You did this!” she screams at her husband. She runs towards him and hits him hard on the arm.

He seems genuinely shocked. “I did what?”

“This!” she yells and thrusts a letter into his hand.

Everything goes a bit crazy. Kez’s mum is sobbing in the living room; her dad starts pacing up and down, muttering under his breath. He looks like he’s in a trance. Then he opens the door that leads to the patio and stands there smoking a cigarette.

“I want you OUT!” she keeps screaming at him, but he’s not listening. He doesn’t even answer. His smoke is curling into the room and he doesn’t seem to care. He looks lost.

Lyn has the note and is checking it again. “It says if we’re reading this, she’s succeeded. That means she has something planned. We have to act fast.”

“But what? What is she planning?” Kez’s mum sobs.

I keep thinking of her writing that note, putting down those words. I never knew how bad she was feeling. How could this be the same Kez I’d feared for so long?

“I’ll try Marnie,” Lyn says. “She might know something.” He leaves the room with his phone clasped in his hand, shooting me a concerned look.

“I’m calling the police,” Kez’s mum says. “We can’t leave it any longer.”

I sit and listen to her voice cracking over the phone; she is barely able to provide the details. She makes weird choking noises in her throat. I want to hug her, but her body is stiff and turned away from me. She puts down the phone and visibly shudders, before walking to the other side of the room. She stands by the patio doors and stares out, like she could find Kez out there.

“I never knew she felt like this,” Kez’s dad mutters. I don’t think he is talking to us. He is pacing the room again, staring straight ahead like a zombie. “She never seemed depressed or anything.”

“No…” I reply. Who knew?

Lyn comes back into the room. Kez’s mum turns and looks at him hopefully, big wide eyes. “No,” he says. “Marnie was still in bed. She’s not heard from Kez.”

And I bet she didn’t even care…

Lyn sits down next to me on the sofa. His face looks sunken. “I said some horrible things to her,” he whispers. “But after what she did to you…”

I shrug. “I’m OK.”

“But she just went for you on the balcony. And she said those awful things.” He looks so pale, sick even. “That stuff about me was crap, Jess. I never felt sorry for you. I really, really like you.”

A warm feeling. I can’t stop it.

“Really?” I say.

He nods, a small smile is settling on his lips.

Kez’s mum jumps up as the doorbell goes. “That was quick,” she says, running across the room, slamming the door behind her. We hear muffled talking in the hallway. I stare around the large living room, feeling so uncomfortable. I know I shouldn’t even be here. She didn’t even like me.

Suddenly, my eyes fall on a painting above the fireplace. It’s really pretty, despite being quite crude. Lots of poppies in a large field. A scrawl of a name is etched in the far corner.

I turn to Kez’s dad. “Did Kez paint that?” I ask.

He stops pacing and looks up at the picture. “Yes, she did. She loves painting. She always did her favourite places. That was a field we saw on holiday in Wales.” He keeps staring at it, like he’s hypnotized.

Suddenly, a thought comes to me; I’m not sure why I didn’t think of it before.

“There’s somewhere I need to go,” I whisper to Lyn. “I think I might know where Kez is.”

Lyn turns to me, alarmed. “Tell the police then? Or at least let me come with you.”

“But I might be wrong. It’s a long shot.” I squeeze his hand, pleading. “Please just cover for me. Tell them I’ve nipped home or something. I won’t be long, promise.”

He nods softly. Kez’s dad is still in a trance, he doesn’t notice as I slip out of the open patio door.

The cool morning air greets me as I walk out of the side gate. And then I run.

I just pray I’ve got this right.

Is she here? Please, please be here…

The bridge is such a weird, haunting place, both ugly and beautiful at the same time and totally overgrown now. An empty shell set in wild flowers and weeds, tall above the ravine that was once the deep railway cutting. Kez saw the beauty and that’s why she painted it. It just took seeing another one of her paintings for me to remember.

One of her favourite places…

She is standing on the bridge; I can see this as soon as I round the corner. The bridge itself is like a downturned mouth, its teeth rotted away. Where there should be bars, there are just great big gaps and she is standing in one of these. It’s like she’s looking out of a huge, jagged window. All that’s keeping her there is one hand, holding on to the thin rail that once held everything in place.

She only has to dip her head. She only has to let go and she would fall through that gap, like a small, wingless bird.

I approach her carefully, picking my way through brambles, decaying crisp packets, tangled up carrier bags. By the time I reach the foot of the stairs, my legs are already criss-crossed in scratches and marks. Red-and-white tape still binds the metal at the base. A flattened barrier is a reminder that we shouldn’t be here – this place is unsafe.

There were whispered rumours that they were going to smash this thing down. Build offices instead with huge glass windows. But then the recession came and I think the bridge was forgotten, along with so many things. Nobody comes here anyway. Who’d want to? It’s a death trap.

A perfect place to die.

I hadn’t realized how bad it had become though. It has slowly been rotting away in the background, while we just carried on. So many things are left, forgotten about.

I have to tread on the tape and pick my way up the steps carefully. The metal is so corroded and rusty, there are parts where it’s worn through completely. I’m scared I’ll trap my foot on a broken bit. I’m virtually on tip-toe. She still hasn’t noticed me though. I’m moving as slow as I can, almost too scared to breathe, my eyes fixed on her static, upright body.

Please don’t jump. Please don’t jump. Please…

My mind wanders for a moment. Why do I even care? Why the hell should I help her after all she’s done? I pause and take a long, shaky breath. An image of Hollie flashes in my mind; her soft face, her kind eyes. If she was here, she’d be tugging my arm, dragging me along.

“You have to help, Jess. You have to do the right thing.”

I blink hard and keep moving.

I quickly reach the top. What now? I’m hardly an expert in these things. I’m even more scared that the bridge will collapse under my weight.

I take a step. The bridge creaks. My breath leaves me in a sudden burst, a whoosh of air.

Kez’s head spins round, she sees me and her eyes widen. Mascara streaks her face in dark stripes.

“Go away!” she screams. “Go away, or I swear I’ll jump!”

She tips her body slightly, still gripping the bar. I swear the whole bridge shakes with the movement. I think I’m going to be sick.

“Please, Kez, stay there. I won’t come any closer.”

“I will do it. I will!”

I sit myself on the floor. “See. I’m not moving. Please just step back.”

It’s hard down here, rough. My leg grazes the metal. I see her hesitate, her shoulders slacken.

“Please, Kez, just listen to what I have to say.”

She’s just standing there, a frozen statue. The breeze lifts the curl of her hair and it drifts up slightly, like smoke.

“Surely this isn’t want you want,” I say. “Do you really want to end it all?”

“Yes…” Her voice is a breath. I barely recognize it.

“But is it your life you want to end? Or just the crap? Do you want to die, or do you just want things to be different?”

Her arms wobble slightly. I’m fixated on her hands, her tiny hands. The hands that nearly pushed me over just hours before.
Please
don’t let that grip loosen…

“I want things to be different too, you know. And they can be. It’s not too late. It never is,” I plead.

She doesn’t answer, but I can see a change in her stance, a softening. It’s almost as if she’s moving towards me, even though she hasn’t shifted an inch.

“I remembered your painting at school. It made me think you might be here,” I say. “I love your paintings.”

I pull myself up and slowly walk towards her. Each creak makes me flinch, but I’m committed now. I keep my eyes glued on her back, praying that she stays just there and doesn’t move.

That’s it… Keep still… Just stay there, please, just stay there…

“But why, Kez?” I continue. “What’s so special about this bridge?”