The Grave (14 page)

“I’ll wait here for you.”  The policewoman leaned against
the beige wall, she looked tired, was probably desperate for the end of her
shift and some sleep. 

Sylvie stepped into a small cubicle and dropped the parcel
onto the closed toilet lid.  There was nothing in there; some scraps of toilet
paper lay on the floor.  Sylvie had chosen the end one on the off chance there
would be a window.  There was, high up in the wall, covered on the outside with
wire and with no obvious way to open it.  Okay that wasn’t going to work. 

She stripped off her clothes, stiff with dried blood. 

“Do I have to take everything off, you know my underwear and
everything?”

“Yes, sorry.  There should be some paper pants in the
package.  Sorry.”

“It’s okay.”  She had to keep this woman relaxed, friendly
if possible. 

Her heart was pounding, she had made a decision and it was
tearing her apart.  She needed to see Samuel as much as she needed to breathe
but saw now it just couldn’t be.  After her visit to his bedside the police
would take over, lead her away and then, who knew?  She understood the day
could end with her locked in a cell somewhere, her life taken out of her hands
as the great juggernaut of the law rolled forward.  They might put her in
handcuffs, she had told them she shot someone so it didn’t seem too far-fetched,
certainly they would escort her closely.  If she was to escape then they must
be taken completely by surprise.

If she had simply shot the man at the hotel, damn she still
didn’t even know his name, if the tale she had invented had been the truth, then
she might have taken the chance, thrown her future into the hands of the
authorities but there was all the rest of it.  There was Samuel’s history of involvement
with drugs, violence, his continued flight, and although she knew so little of
this she knew that being with him had tainted her.  Then there was the other
thing, the horrible thing with Phil, it was there, a monster lurking in every
corner, behind every door.  She had seen a man killed, a man she had known and
shared a bed with.  That he had been beating her was relevant at the early
stage but once she left Samuel to deal with it, to hide the evidence she had heaped
trouble upon trouble and had no idea where it left her. 

Great tears followed so many others she’d already cried,
tears for Samuel, for herself and for the unfairness of life.  Unbelievably she
had found someone to love, someone who had been kind and now was about to leave
him while he fought to live. 

If she stayed she couldn’t help him, once they started the
questioning it would undoubtedly make things worse.  She didn’t have his skill
at surviving against the odds, didn’t know how to lie and react to situations
the way he did, though she knew she would have to learn and quickly.  Any mistakes
she made could well cost him his freedom.  Though it tore her apart she had to
leave him, leave him and trust in his skill at survival. 

She was choking now on the unshed sorrow, her throat was
tight with the pain which seemed unbearable yet must be borne.  There had to be
a way not only to bear it but to act now with bravery and daring and get away. 
What would come afterwards was lost in the mist of tomorrow.

“There are no shoes, can I keep my shoes on?”

“Oh, oh right, yeah normally they would give you slipper
things.  Well, I don’t see what else we can do, yeah keep em on.  I suppose
you’ve walked about so much here they wouldn’t be any use to us anyway.”

“Right.  Okay.”

Holding the bag of clothes in front of her she stepped out
of the cubicle, locked a small smile into her lips and handed the parcel over.

“Come on Sylvie.  Let’s go and see Samuel and then we have
to get on with this.”

They turned into the corridor side by side.  The hospital
was waking to the day and porters, nurses, cleaners passed them with curious
glances, one or two smiled knowing that this little world held many stories and
it was of no use to jump to conclusions.  A girl in a grey tracksuit walking
with a policewoman could mean so many things. 

As they approached the elevator Sylvie began to form a plan,
she had to act on instinct, take whatever fate threw her way.  Constable Forbes
was fairly relaxed; she was tired and trusting, she probably thought  the only
thing possibly on Sylvie’s mind was her boyfriend behind the clouded glass
doors at the end of this long corridor. 

A small group of workers were waiting for the lift, Sylvie
slowed her pace. 

“Are you alright Sylvie?”

“No, not really, I feel dizzy, a bit sick.  I’m scared, you
know what will he look like and what’s going to happen.”

“Hey, keep hold love.  We’ll sort it out.  Let’s get this
bit over and then we can get you some breakfast perhaps and a cup of tea.  Look
just hang on, take a minute.”

“Yeah, yeah thanks.”

The lift was on the floor below, coming up, the little crowd
was shuffling and preparing to walk forward.  Sylvie leaned against the wall,
closed her eyes, listening for the doors to open.  The crowd moved in, someone
pushed the button, the doors began to close, she had to judge this just right,
wait, wait.  Now, now as the door swished the final few inches she straightened
and bolted into the grey metal space. 

She pushed into the group of startled people and as the slit
of light closed she had a last view of Constable Forbes darting forward finger
extended ready to poke at the buttons, to stop the lift.

She forced a giggle from her lips. “Whew nearly missed it,
came over all dizzy again.  I swear that’s the last time I go on a binge. 
Don’t know what my mum would say if I let the police take me home.” 

She watched their faces, lips pursed in disapproval,
eyebrows raised, she had hit the right note.  They had seen it so many times,
silly drunken youngsters taking up precious resources week after week, never
learning the lessons.  They turned away from her, beneath their contempt.  One
young cleaner winked, and she smiled back at him. 

As the doors swished open on the ground floor she flew out. Alarms
were sounding somewhere, security men were scurrying forward but for the moment
confusion reigned. She sprinted across the tiles and out of the glass doors, over
the pavement, jigging back and forth between taxis, pedestrians, a patient
transport vehicle.  She flung her head back and forth, with no idea of how to
get out of the hospital grounds she simply ran along the roadway.  There would
be no time, no second chance, she had committed herself.  Now they knew she had
something more to hide than being forced to protect herself from a crazed
gunman.  That she had left Samuel struggling against the odds in the Intensive
Care Unit would speak volumes to them and from now they would treat her as any
other fugitive criminal.  She had entered the world of her father, but on a
totally different level and from a different place.  As she ran she let the
tears flow freely down her face, all she could do now was run as far and as
fast as she could.  Away, just away.

Through the big stone gateposts and out onto the main road. 
Traffic was building as the morning headed towards rush hour.  She turned right
simply because she turned right, the city was an unknown landscape and the
streets a maze of shops, offices and terraced houses.  She ran upwards, it was a
gentle incline but an animal instinct told her to run from the dead end that
was the river and so it was.  She skirted round the protestant cathedral, the
majesty of it lost on her.  There was building work everywhere, the old city
being ripped apart to make way for hope and endeavour.  Her track suit and
trainers rendered her invisible; a city where girls ran to the shops in their
pyjamas and a huge percentage of the population spent their day in casual
clothes ignored a scrawny girl in sports gear. 

Her heart hammered and each breath tore at her throat on and
on, taking corners on a whim, turning and backtracking like the hunted creature
she was, she tried to confuse the trail.  Then there came a time when she
couldn’t run anymore.  She was done, had no idea where she was or what to do
next.  She leaned against a grimy brick wall, bent forward and rested her hands
on her thighs.  Panic threatened again and she pushed it away.  After a minute
or so the stitch in her side eased and she raised her head.  All around her
cars and pedestrians forged into their days, young mothers pushed buggies and
dragged at reluctant toddlers, old women hobbled about with wheeled shopping
bags and now and again a little invalid scooter would threaten her toes.  It
was too much, she had to find some peace, somewhere there had to be a place
where she could curl into a ball and hide from this dreadful new reality.

She had no money, not a penny.  The cheap grey tracksuit and
a pair of paper knickers.  That was what her life had been reduced to.  She
couldn’t have Samuel, didn’t have a family and had left her friends.  What was
the point of it all?  She was overwhelmed with despair.  For a while her brain
refused to function usefully, how could this have happened, what was she going
to do, what on earth was she going to do? 

There was a small park up ahead, a little playground and a
patch of grass, some benches.  She made her way through the entryway and
flopped onto the first bench.  Birds sang and she was aware of the chattering
and laughing of children, a couple of dogs barked.  She heard it from a
distance, removed and unreal, thoughts swirled unformed in her brain and her
hands began to shake.  She couldn’t breathe now, gasping she leaned forward.

“You awright?”

She shook her head,
go away, leave me alone, please don’t
make me try to speak.

“Are you sick?”

Again she shook her head.

“Stoned, drunk, what?” 

She raised her face.  A tall, skinny girl stood in front of her;
there was interest on her face and slight concern.

“Only if you’re stoned you shouldn’t stay here, the bizzies
come through here.”

At the mention of police Sylvie’s head jerked up, she shot a
look right and left.

“It’s okay, don’t panic, there’s none now.” 

“I’m not stoned or drunk.  I’m really tired that’s all, I’m
just really, really tired.”

“Are you on the game?”

“What? No, no.  I just, oh well I’m lost really and my
friend is in the hospital and I don’t have any money and…” 

She couldn’t carry on, the damned tears started again, stole
her voice and left her helpless and hopeless sobbing on the park bench with the
skinny girl watching, her head tipped to one side.  After a moment or two she
sat down and took hold of Sylvie’s hand, it was a simple, honest gesture and as
Sylvie leaned towards her the stranger wrapped her arms around the heaving
shoulders and patted her gently crooning quietly.

“Aw now, come on now, it’s okay, really it’s okay.  Come on
now.”

“God I’m sorry, I’m really sorry.” 

Sylvie pushed away making a small space between herself and
the stranger who  now dropped her hands into her lap and was simply smiling ,
turned on the bench so she could look at this bedraggled and forlorn young
woman.

“D’ya feel better.  A good cry’s the best thing, gets it all
out.”

Sylvie nodded, no she didn’t feel better, didn’t believe
there would ever be a ‘better’ but this person was so very kind she didn’t want
to cause offence.

“Tell ya what, I was goin’ to the caf’, get a cuppa, come
on, I’ll sub ya.”

“No, no, it’s fine.  I couldn’t I’m sorry I don’t know what
came over me.”

“Where’re ya from?”

“Well, down near London, but I’ve lived in a lot of places.”

“Yeah, I could tell ya weren’t from round ‘ere.  Posh you
are.”

“Posh, me, no, no I’m not.”

“Well you sound posh to me.  Anyway, ya comin’? Ya might as
well.”

She stood and dragged a short jacket tightly around thin
shoulders, again that patient, slightly quizzical look and then she turned from
the bench and took a couple of steps, looked back and jerked her head, an
unspoken invitation.  Sylvie stood up and matched her pace to the other girl’s
and they headed out of the park and back into the hurly burly of the main road.

Steam clouded the windows of the little café where the air
was warm with the smell of breakfast.  The lanky girl stalked up to the
counter.

“Two teas and two egg on toast Phil.”

The sound of the familiar name swept through Sylvie like a
cold wave, she began to shiver.  For a while it seemed she may faint and so she
caught her lower lip tight between her teeth, she tasted metal and the small
pain brought tears to her eyes but beat back the encroaching darkness.

“There ya go, food’ll be ready in a bit, they’ll give us a
shout.”

“I don’t have any money, I can’t pay you back.”

“No, I guessed.  Don’t worry, I got my Giro yesterday.”

The mug was heavy, thick and white and the tea was strong. 
The girl across the table trickled a couple of paper sachets of sugar into the
liquid and stirred it round with a wooden stick.

“So, I’m Lennie.” 

She stretched out a thin hand.  A tattoo of a snake coiled
round the bony wrist and disappeared into the beige cotton sleeve of the thin
jacket.

“Sylvie, thanks Lennie, I really mean it, thanks.” 

Tears started to her eyes again and as she brushed them away
with the back of her hand.  Sylvie shot an embarrassed grin across the Formica
towards her new friend.

“I’m sorry about all this, I’ve got stuff going on and to be
honest I don’t know what I’m going to do about it all.  My boyfriend’s in the
hospital, he, well he got hurt, it’s really bad and I feel rotten about leaving
him but I didn’t have any choice.”

“Is it the filth?”

“No, well, actually yes.  The police are looking for me but
that’s not all of it.”

“Hang on.”

Lennie unwound her lanky frame and retrieved two plates
piled with toast topped with fried eggs.  She slapped them down on the table,
collected knives and forks from a wooden stand and then scraped her chair back
in place.  Sylvie was still trying to find a way to explain some of what had
happened to her without risking this girl, who she knew nothing about, turning
her in to the police.

For a while they ate and drank quietly, glancing at one
another and sharing a smile, each a little shy now the original camaraderie of
encounter had past.

“So, your fella, what’s his name?”

“Samuel, he’s called Samuel.”

“Is he goin’ to be okay d’ya think?”

“I don’t know, he’s in intensive care, they operated on him
most of the night.”

“Shit girl, what ya’ doin’ here you should be with him.  Was
it them slags of nurses, they can be right bitches sometimes, when me granddad
was in hospital they kept tellin’ us to leave, “It’s not visitin’ time, we have
work to do.” “Well I told ‘em.  Sod you and your work this is me granddad and I
stayed.  Good job too, he died and if we’d a gone he’d a been on his own.  Not
right that. 

“You should go back, tell ‘em you’re stayin’.  They won’t
throw you out, not these days, tell ‘em you’ll go to the papers or better still
on Facebook.”

“No, no the hospital people were fine, they were lovely
actually.  It’s not that. 

“The police were going to arrest me.  I ran away, that’s why
I’m in this” 

She plucked at the thin grey top.

“Ah.  Did you do it, hurt your boyfriend then?”

“No, no he was shot, not by me though, by someone else.”

“Shit.”

“Yeah.  So, anyway I shot the man who shot Samuel.  I killed
him.”

As she said it Sylvie felt her control slipping again, her
hands began to shake, rattling the cutlery against the cheap porcelain.  Lennie
leaned over and took the knife and fork from her hand laying them tidily
together before covering Sylvie’s quivering fingers with her own warm, bony
hand.

“They won’t arrest you though will they?  I mean if you shot
him in self-defence.  You didn’t do anything wrong.  You should tell ‘em.  I’ll
come with you if you like, the bizzies don’t bother me, they all fart in the
bath just like you and me.  Oh, God I’m so rude, sorry.  I don’t know that you
do, oh that’s no better and leaning away from the table she gave a great gale
of a laugh.  “God, what am I like, honestly, sorry.  My mam says I should make
sure my brain’s in gear before I open my bloody mouth. Sorry, but I mean it,
you should tell ‘em.  There’s no need for you to ‘ave run away.”

“No, no that’s not all of it.  There’s more, so much more
and I can’t really tell you but it isn’t as simple as it sounds.  If I go back
and they start to ask me questions then I know, I just know I’ll get Samuel
into trouble and he’s spent so long, years and years just trying to keep out of
it.  I wish I’d never met him, I love him, God I really love him and yet I’ve
brought him nothing but trouble right from the start and now I can’t go back
and I can’t be with him and I don’t even know if he’s still alive.”

The sobs would wait no longer and while the workmen and
young mums and old ladies sipping their instant coffee watched, with a mixture
of intrigue and embarrassment, she laid her head on the table top and cried as
her heart broke.

Lennie sat silently on the hard chair, now and again she
lifted the mug to sip at the cooling tea.  Her face was impassive but pensive,
she made no move to comfort Sylvie but behaved as though having her dining
companion dissolve into floods of tears was an everyday event and worthy of no more
notice than she would have given a dropped chip or a spilt tube of sugar.