The Memory Game (16 page)

‘Please… Beth,
run…’ My rage turns to despair as I see her give up. I’m her guardian angel –
I’m supposed to save her and I can’t even do that right. I lean down and put my
lips close to her ear. ‘Please, Beth. If you can’t do it for yourself, do it
for me.’

He lifts his
hand to strike again and she shields her face with her arms.  Instead he
grabs her hair and pulls her up while she screams and scrapes at his hands,
trying to prise open his grip. He doesn’t let go, but swings her round and
tosses her down the remaining few stairs and she lands in an awkward heap at
the bottom. I leap down the steps to her.

‘Beth, are you
ok?’ She looks up at me and nods in a tiny movement but she’s clutching at her
chest and gulping at air, like she can’t get enough. ‘What’s the matter?’ She
doesn’t reply but I don’t know whether that’s because she can’t or daren’t.

Her dad is down
the stairs now and standing over her. ‘I’m still waiting for an explanation.’

Bethany
turns her wide eyes to me, and then back to him. Whatever she tells him won’t
make any difference to the trouble she’s in now and we both know that. ‘I’m
sorry, Dad,’ she wheezes. ‘It was a stupid bet, that’s all.’

He grabs for her
hair again and she squeals as he pulls her up to stand.  ‘I’ll teach you
to show me up,’ he says bending down and looking her square in the eye. 
‘Of all the stupid, stupid tricks…’

‘No, Dad…
please, I didn’t mean anything by it… it was a mistake…’

‘Oh, yes,’ he
drags her down the hallway, still gripping her by the hair, ‘it was a mistake
alright.’

Her feet scuff
the floor; she’s barely touching it as he pulls her along to the kitchen. 
All I can do is watch and try to fight the suffocating panic that’s stopping me
from thinking properly. If I lose Bethany,
I lose more than just her – I lose my only link to this world and the thought
terrifies me.

Bethany’s
dad slings her through the kitchen doorway by her hair. She squeals as she
skids across the floor. I look at him. There’s so much anger in his eyes, but
it’s not like someone normal gets angry, it’s like he’s not really himself
anymore, he’s just this unthinking heap of rage. He could kill
her,
I’m sure, without even knowing he was doing it.

Something
suddenly clicks into place.

‘This is what
happened to your mum, isn’t it?’ I say to Bethany.
‘And when she died you took her place, you started to get the beatings
instead.’

Bethany
scrambles to her feet. ‘No,’ she whispers.

‘You can’t keep
protecting him.  You need to get out and go somewhere safe, somewhere
where he can’t hurt you anymore.’

She shakes her
head uncertainly.

‘He killed your
mum! And he’ll do the same to you!’

‘He didn’t mean
to,’ she says.

‘It doesn’t
matter!  Dead is dead, Beth, whether he meant it or not.  Just look
at him, he doesn’t care!’

She looks at me
and frowns, like she’s working out some complicated puzzle.  She’s about
to say something when her dad starts towards her with his hand
raised
again. As she backs away, her bare foot catches a
shard of china.  She winces and draws her foot up and the action knocks
her off balance, sending her crashing down. The side of her head hits the
table as she falls to the floor and then she is still. Her dad stares at her as
she lies on the grubby tiles and the fog seems to clear from his eyes.

‘Bethany?’
He stoops down and lifts her head to lean on his arm, patting her cheek gently.
‘Wake up, Beth.  I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.’

Her head lolls
to one side and he gently turns her face to him.

‘Oh God, not again.
  Beth, please…’

She begins to
groan and her eyes slowly open. It takes a second for her to focus and then she
pushes herself up and scoots backwards across the floor, away from
him. She hits the wall and pulls her knees to her chest, watching him
carefully. ‘I know you killed Mum,’ she says quietly.

His mouth drops
open. ‘It was an accident, you know it was.’

She shakes her
head. ‘You’re going to kill me too.’

‘Bethany,
I would never…’ He’s still on his knees. He makes a move towards her and she
backs along the wall, squeezing herself into a corner.

‘Get away from
me!’ she cries.

I move to the
doorway and hold out my hand. ‘Come on,
Beth,
get out
now while he’s calm.’

She just pulls
her knees in tighter.  She looks at me and then back at him. I glance
across at him; he has his face in his hands now. Then he looks up at her
and his cheeks are wet. He lumbers to his feet and holds out his arms to her.

‘Bethany,
I’m so sorry…’

Her eyes widen and she squeals as she leaps up and bolts for the doorway.
I can hear him calling after her but he doesn’t give chase. We tear along the
hall together and she yanks open the front door and runs out into the snow.

Bethany
sits on the wall at the churchyard hugging
herself
. 
She’s only wearing a thin jumper and her feet are bare. There’s a huge gash
along the edge of one of them and there’s a bruise spreading across her
cheekbone. I suppose there must be loads of other bruises, under her clothes.
 At least her mouth has stopped bleeding now.  The church is quiet
and dark again now; the carol service must have ended ages ago and everyone
will be safe and warm in their homes. The graves are buried under a
blanket of white, the snow still falling heavily and muffling the sounds around
us.

‘You can’t stay
out like this,’ I say to her for what seems like the hundredth time. ‘You’ll
freeze to death.  Go and see my mum, she’ll help you.’

Bethany
shakes her head forcefully.

‘Maybe your dad
has calmed down now?  You could go back home?’

‘I can’t. I
can’t ever go back.’ She’s not crying now but her voice has a defeated
weariness to it that’s almost worse.  ‘You said he’d kill me.’

I did and I
really believed it.  But now I’m wondering whether sitting out here in
this snow this will be the thing that kills her quicker. ‘What are you going to
do, then?’

She shrugs.

‘You’re really
cold now?’

‘A bit,’ she
says. ‘I don’t feel so good either.’

‘What’s wrong?’

She squeezes her
eyes shut and then opens them again to look at me. ‘My head feels funny, it
keeps spinning.  And I have a headache coming.’

I feel that
panic bubble up inside me again.  I need to keep her safe but I don’t know
what to do for her. She must have hit her head harder than it looked.

‘You have to get
out of the snow.’  I scan the landscape. ‘The church might be
unlocked.  You could shelter in there for a bit.’

She drops
unsteadily from the wall and wobbles for a second before we start walking
slowly towards the doors of the church.  Her footsteps make no sound and
hardly dent the snow. Seeing it unnerves me; it’s like she’s halfway dead
already.

‘You’re ok?’ I
ask.  She’s not ok, but I don’t know what else to say.

‘My head really
hurts,’ she says. ‘I feel like it’s a balloon being pumped up.’

We stop in the
porch and Bethany pulls at the iron
door handle but the door doesn’t open.

‘Try again,’ I
say. ‘It must be open, churches are supposed to be open all the time in case
you want to pray.’

She yanks it
harder but it stays shut. ‘No praying today,’ she says.

I try to bite
back the frustration that’s building.  I wish I could try the handle
myself because I’m positive it wouldn’t be locked.  Looking at Bethany
as she slides down the door to sit against it, I’m pretty sure that she can’t
open it because she’s just too weak. But it seems pointless asking her again
and at least the porch is some shelter from the snow. She closes her eyes and
holds her head.  

‘It’s worse?’ I
ask.

‘About the same.’

‘Maybe you’ll
feel better if you sit here for a while?’

‘Maybe.’

Leaning over to
her side she’s suddenly sick.  She wipes her mouth, not even noticing the
steaming puddle by her
side,
leans back on the door
and closes her eyes.

‘You can’t go to
sleep, Beth.’ I don’t know much about first aid, but I’m pretty sure that’s a
bad thing to do when you’ve had a knock on the head.  Her eyes don’t open
and she doesn’t answer me. ‘Beth!’ I shout. ‘Don’t go to sleep!’

‘I’m not,’ she
murmurs with her eyes still closed.

‘Open your
eyes.’

‘I can’t.’

‘Yes, you
can.  Open your eyes.’

‘It’s dark.
What’s the point?’

‘It’s not that
dark, Beth. There are lights, on the Christmas tree.  Open your eyes and
tell me what you see.’

‘Everything’s
spinning too much. It makes me feel sick.’

‘You need to go
to the hospital.’

‘Who will take
me?’

‘We’ll walk to a
phone box. You can call an ambulance.’

She screws her
eyes tight, as though she suddenly has a flare of pain. ‘It’s too far,’ she
says through gritted teeth.  Then her face relaxes again and she tilts her
head back against the door.

‘Beth… Beth…
you’re not going to sleep, are you?’

‘Just for a while.’

‘No, you can’t!’
I think about ways of keeping her awake. ‘Play the memory game with me.’

‘I can’t.’

‘Tell me about
hot chocolate and being wrapped in a big blanket.’

‘I’m too cold to
remember what being warm is like.’

I see that she’s
shivering worse than ever.  Her head has started to drop to one side.

‘You have to get
up, Beth.  You can’t stay here; you need to walk around, get help. Please,
go and see my mum, she’ll sort you out.’

‘She hates me.’

‘She’ll still
help.’

Bethany
says nothing.

‘Please,
please…’ My voice is strangled in my throat. ‘It’s not that far and she will
help you.’

Bethany
shakes her head slightly and then screws her face into a pained frown.

‘Your head is
worse?’

‘Yes,’ she
whispers. 

‘Ok,’ I say,
trying to stay calm.
‘If you won’t see my mum then how about
Raven?
  She’s nice, she’d help you.’

‘I would like
some headache tablets,’ Bethany’s
words suddenly sound a bit slurred. ‘And maybe some green tea… yeah, that would
be nice.’

‘Come on,
then.  Let’s go.’

Holding onto the
doorframe she drags herself up and then falls onto all fours. Slowly but
painfully, she stands again.

 ‘You can
do this,’ I say. ‘Just concentrate, one step at a time, yeah?’

‘You’ll help
me?’

‘I’ll be here
all the time.’

She clutches at
me and falls against the wall.

‘Beth!’

‘Where did you
go?’ she asks, staring at me. Something in her eyes isn’t right, like she can’t
understand who I am.

‘You can’t hold
onto me.’

‘But you said
you’d help.’

‘You have to walk
on your own.  I’ll be right beside you… ok?’

She doesn’t
answer straightaway and looks as though she’s trying to figure me out. Then she
says, ‘ok.’ She looks down at her feet. ‘Where are my shoes?’ she asks.

‘You ran out
without them, remember?’

‘Did I?’

‘Come on, you
need to walk.  Raven’s house is a long way.’ I wonder whether I can guide
her to mine instead.  It’s closer and if she’s this confused she might not
notice.

Her steps are so
wobbly and slow that I feel my frustration start to build again but I have to
stay calm. ‘That’s it,’ I tell her. ‘Just keep walking.’

We make our way
down the path.  At least, I think it’s the path – I can’t really tell now.
Bethany sinks into the snow, ankle
deep with every step.  She’s shivering but she doesn’t even try to hug
herself for warmth now.  Her head is all over the place, like her neck
can’t support it properly, and her eyes keep closing from time to time, but she
keeps walking like I tell her to.  Raven’s house is about fifteen minutes away
if you can walk normally, but God knows how long it’s going to take us to get
there.

As we walk, Bethany
seems to wake up a little.

‘What am I going
to say to Raven when we get there?’

‘About what?’

‘I can’t tell
her that my dad hit me.’

‘Why not?
He deserves to go to prison.’

‘Not that,’ she
says, her voice wobbling. ‘And if he
did,
what would I
do?’

‘You’d be safe.’

‘I’d go into
care.  I’d have to leave the village.’

‘But I thought
you wanted to leave the village?’

‘I did, but not
like that,’ she says. ‘What about you?  I wouldn’t be able to see you
again.’

I don’t
answer.  What she says makes me feel more alone than ever, but I can’t
think about that now. ‘We’d think of something.  Let’s just get to
Raven’s.’

She stops and
turns to me. ‘I don’t think I should go.’

‘I don’t care
what you think, we’re going.’

‘You can’t tell
me what to do.’

‘Please… you
promised me…’

Then she
clutches at her head and falls into the snow. I drop to my knees beside her.
‘Beth? Are you ok?’

‘No,’ she
whimpers. ‘It hurts so much.’

‘Please… please…
just try to get up.  Just go to Raven’s house and she’ll be able to help.’

But she doesn’t
answer.  I watch as she curls up into a ball and holds her head, tears
streaming down her cheeks.

‘Beth…’ I shake
away the despair that threatens to swallow me and shout at her in the harshest
voice I can force out. ‘Beth, you need to get up.’

She lies on the
ground, crying and holding her head.

‘BETH!’

Then she looks
up at me and the cloud of pain seems to clear from her face.