Love Lives

by Emlyn Rees

  Ryan shrugged. ‘I don’t know, Jimmy. Maybe you need to work that out for yourself.’ Ryan hit the eject button on the state-of-the-art sound system. ‘Or maybe you just don’t know what fun is, eh?’

  ‘Maybe,’ Jimmy said, because maybe Ryan was right. Maybe Jimmy was just stoned and he wouldn’t care about any of this in the morning. Maybe fun was all there really was after all.

  ‘So enough pretending,’ Ryan went on, taking the Eminem CD and spinning it away like a frisbee into the bushes. ‘Let’s get ourselves some kicks for real.’

  ‘Like what?’ Jimmy asked, accepting the spliff and taking a deep drag.

  ‘Chicken,’ Ryan said, gazing along the track towards Lost Soul’s Point and starting the car. ‘I’ll get us lined up nice and straight, and then I’ll close my eyes and keep on accelerating,’ he explained. ‘And you – you shout stop. That’s your job. And when you do, I’ll slam on the brakes and we’ll see how close we end up to the edge of the cliff. Can I trust you, Jimmy? Can I trust you to do that?’

  Jimmy chucked the spliff away. He was stoned all right, but not that stoned. ‘No,’ he told Ryan, ‘what you can do is forget it.’

  ‘Too late,’ Ryan said, slipping the car into first and putting his foot down.

  The car leapt forward with such force that it pinned Jimmy back in his seat. ‘Stop it!’ he shouted above the engine, as Ryan slipped past second into third.

  ‘That’s your job!’ Ryan shouted back with a laugh.

  Already the speedometer was up past fifty. Already they were closing in on the clearing before the land dropped off into space. Already – Jimmy shifted sideways, glancing into the rear-view mirror – Ryan was shutting his eyes, a manic grin locked on to his face.

  ‘Stop!’ Jimmy shouted. Because this was too big a kick for him already. Because he was drunk and stoned, and so was Ryan and he didn’t trust either of their reactions.

  But Ryan didn’t stop, because – Jimmy suddenly realised – he hadn’t actually shouted at all. He’d been too frightened to shout. The word had caught in his throat. He’d been twisting sideways instead, away from Ryan, clinging on to the passenger door. He glanced forwards. They were about to enter the clearing.

  ‘Stop!’

  And this time the word did come out and this time – thank Christ! – Ryan did react. His eyes flicked open as they burst into the clearing. Emergency stop: he yanked on the handbrake. But they were going too fast and all he succeeded in doing was throwing the car into a vicious spin.

  ‘Oh, Jesus!’ Jimmy heard Ryan cry out.

  Jimmy whimpered. They were still rushing towards the cliff. They weren’t going to stop in time. The car’s momentum was dragging them on. The ground was too wet. The tyres weren’t biting. Under ten miles an hour now, but less than twenty yards to go. They were going over the edge. Jimmy knew it as fact.

  Jimmy was on his knees. The night sky was spinning above him. Lightning flashed across it, splitting the darkness in two. He was on his feet now. He was crouched on the leather seat. The car spun on. Jimmy jumped, over the passenger door. The back of the car clipped him as he landed, knocking him on to his hands and knees. He looked up just in time to see Ryan staring at him through the windscreen as the car swung round one final time. Ryan’s mouth was wide open. Jimmy’s best friend was screaming his name.

  And then the impossible happened: as the rain hissed down in a sudden torrent, Ryan and the car reached the edge of the cliff and were gone.

  Chapter XXIII

  THE DOOR CREAKING in the wind woke Verity. She came to abruptly, her intake of breath laced with cold fear at her unfamiliar surroundings, before she remembered what had happened and where she was. Quietly she exhaled, her mind alert and fresh. She was shivering, so cold that she couldn’t feel her feet. Her body was stiff and sore from where she’d been lying on the damp mattress on the floor of the chapel. Her eyes darted around the solid dark objects in the shadows, but still she didn’t move.

  Jimmy was curled up beside her. His arm was heavy across her waist. She looked at his face, just inches away from hers. He looked so cute, she thought, longing to trace the line of his dark eyebrow. But she didn’t want to wake him yet. She could see the deep shadows under his eyes and knew he would still be exhausted.

  Now, as she stared at him, she realised that there were so many things about him that she wanted to look at. She’d never noticed before that he had patches of his jaw where the hair didn’t grow. There his skin was pink and flushed, and she thought how sexy he was.

  She could see his hand was cut and grazed, and he held it near to his face, and immediately she wanted to kiss it. The events of last night slowly came to her and her heart ached for Jimmy. The last thing she remembered, after she’d brought him back here, was holding him as he’d sobbed. They must have fallen asleep where they’d been sitting.

  Now Verity could feel his warm, steady breath on her face, as they lay side by side, their legs tangled together beneath Jimmy’s leather jacket, and she was pleased that they’d formed a heart-shaped embrace in their sleep. Even though they were both fully clothed, she didn’t want to break the seal of their bodies.

  She turned her head a fraction towards the door. She’d wedged it shut with a packing crate last night, but she could see a band of silver daylight around the edge. So it was morning, she thought, and no one in the world apart from Jimmy knew where she was. She smiled to herself.

  Quietly, a centimetre at a time, Verity slowly eased herself away from him. Stealthily she stretched, slowly grinding her neck around to crunch out the tension at the back. Her arms clicked as she circled them. She stopped, careful not to make any noise that might wake Jimmy. Carefully she eased off her shoes and picked them up, along with the half-empty vodka bottle. Tiptoeing through the chapel, she moved the packing crate silently and eased open the door just enough for her to slip through.

  Outside, in the pink dawn, the grey clouds looked like leaping dolphins on the silver horizon. Verity took a deep breath, stunned by the magnificence of the view, her eyes narrowing at the brightness of the high undulating sea. She shivered, half with cold, half with exhilaration. She was still in her concert dress, but the full skirt was muddy and her tights were laddered. Her hair clips had fallen out in the night and her hair hung round her neck in messy curls, but she didn’t care.

  Above, the gulls soared in the thermals, laughing to each other, and Verity’s eyes watered at the sharp saltiness of the air. Easing on her shoes, she tipped out the remaining vodka into the brambles, then made a guess as to the direction of Appleforth House and set off in search of some water.

  She knew there was a tap in the kitchen garden, near where she’d filmed the scenes in the arbour. She quickly took the path round the side of the house and, even though it was Sunday, she kept near to the wall, careful to stay out of sight of any workmen who might be about. She didn’t want anything to spoil this morning.

  As she glanced at the house, she noticed that several of the windows that had been boarded up now had new glass and fancy curtains. It made the house look alive and Verity thought how beautiful it looked.

  As she entered the kitchen garden and quickly walked up the path, she felt as if she, too, was opening herself fully to the world for the first time. It was almost as if she’d been standing in a dusty corridor inside herself and now she was flinging open the doors of her personality, discovering that she could be entirely new. As the arbour came into view, she felt filled with light.

  She stopped and looked at the spot where Jimmy had kissed her. ‘It was real,’ she said aloud, claiming the memory for the first time, without shame or guilt. ‘It was real.’ Then she smiled and closed her eyes, recapturing the sensation of that gentle kiss and all she wanted was to be back near Jimmy.

  He stirred as she came back in with the water, her breath quick from where she’d run back from the house. ‘Here,’ she whispered, kneeling down and offering him the bottle.

  Seeing the label, h
e groaned.

  ‘It’s water, silly.’ She laughed.

  Jimmy took the bottle gratefully. Verity stood and, jumping up, grabbed a corner of the rag in one of the slit holes in the wall. As it finally came away in her hand, a shaft of dusty light angled down into the chapel and pulled everything into light-grey focus.

  Jimmy blinked and rubbed his eyes. ‘What time is it?’ he croaked.

  ‘Don’t care,’ Verity said with a shrug, before sitting down next to him. ‘The sun’s coming up, if that’s any help.’

  Jimmy took a deep breath and sighed. There was a long moment of silence between them. Verity sat down next to him and hugged her knees. The scratch of the glass bottle on the stone floor echoed as Jimmy put it down.

  ‘I told you about Ryan, didn’t I?’

  Verity reached out and touched Jimmy’s face for a moment.

  ‘Shit,’ Jimmy said, pressing his thumbs into the corners of his eyes.

  ‘Don’t say that.’ Verity pulled his hand down and forced him to look at her. ‘You’ve nothing to be ashamed about. It’s OK.’

  ‘Is it? You don’t hate me?’

  ‘Of course I don’t! It was an accident! It wasn’t your fault.’ Verity extended her hand and put it on Jimmy’s chest. It felt warm. ‘I can’t believe you’ve carried it around all this time.’

  Jimmy slowly took her hand. He rested it on his scratched red palm and examined her pale fingers for a long moment. ‘What do you think I should do?’ he asked.

  ‘You’re going to have to tell Ryan’s parents, I guess. Let them have some peace. You can’t let them carry on thinking he killed himself when he didn’t.’

  Jimmy looked back down at Verity’s fingers. Verity had never wanted to hug someone as much. ‘It’s funny,’ he said. ‘All year since he died, I’ve been frightened about getting caught for being there. Like everyone would blame me. Or the police would put me away.’

  ‘Why’s that funny?’

  ‘Just because it doesn’t seem frightening any more. Not now I’ve told you.’ Jimmy squeezed the top of her index finger. ‘Why are you helping me?’ he asked. ‘You don’t have to, you know.’

  ‘I want to.’ She gripped his hand so that he winced. ‘Sorry,’ she said, withdrawing and smoothing back her hair from her face. ‘You didn’t give me a chance to explain last night.’

  ‘Explain what?’

  Verity exhaled and took a deep breath. ‘It seems ridiculous now …’

  ‘No, go on,’ Jimmy urged.

  ‘I finished it with Denny. I mean …’ Verity shook her head, exasperated at herself. She felt so foolish trying to explain this to Jimmy, but after what he’d confessed last night, she had to get it off her chest. It was horrible to soil these precious moments with Denny’s name, but she felt compelled to go on. ‘Last night at the concert … when I realised you’d gone … when I realised what you’d seen, I was desperate …’

  Jimmy didn’t say anything.

  ‘It was as if nothing about that stupid concert made sense. Denny made the whole thing so much worse and I just sort of … lost it. I dumped him. In front of everyone. Scott put the whole thing on loudspeaker,’ Verity said, and at last Jimmy started to smile. ‘I told Denny that I didn’t even like him and that he was crap in bed.’

  Jimmy’s smile faded and he let her hand go.

  Verity stood up. She had to make him understand. ‘He was crap in bed. Worse,’ she said. ‘It was awful, Jimmy. I hated every second of it. I shouldn’t have done it, but I thought it would make everything OK. I was so hung up on some stupid ideal, making Denny into something he could never be –’ Verity’s voice caught as she looked at the wall where Jimmy had projected her face and shown her how she looked to him. ‘What you did … what you did was so beautiful. You asked me to make a choice, but you see … I’d already made the wrong one. I’m so, so sorry –’

  Jimmy stood up. He put his arms round her and stroked her hair. Now, as he supported her, she realised just how much she’d been alone. She’d felt so sad and upset about Denny, but she’d had no one to share her grief with until this moment. But trusting Jimmy made it easy to let it go. It didn’t matter any more. Nothing mattered. Only that Jimmy was holding her. She felt his body against hers and its gentle warmth seemed to fill her with strength.

  Eventually, Jimmy pulled back and held her face. He smiled. ‘If it makes you feel any better, that was his bike I was on last night.’

  ‘The one we ditched in the undergrowth?’ Verity remembered how she’d hauled the bike to the brambles, after Jimmy had told her about Ryan. She remembered now how she’d told him to leave it, and had put her arms round him, walking back in silence to the chapel, as Jimmy had started to cry.

  ‘The very same.’

  Verity laughed. ‘Good. I’m sorry, Jimmy,’ she said again. ‘About us. I should have realised sooner.’

  ‘It doesn’t matter. That was yesterday.’

  ‘What about today?’ she asked.

  ‘Today. Hm. Today, we have to clear this place out before Ned’s guys get here.’

  ‘Are you sad?’ she asked.

  He shook his head and looked around. ‘No, not really. Not any more. I thought I would be.’ Jimmy shrugged and smiled at Verity. ‘But now I think it’s time to move on.’

  *

  Jimmy talked about all the times he’d spent in the chapel with Ryan, as Verity helped him dismantle their hang-out. ‘He was a daredevil,’ he said, laughing, and Verity couldn’t help smiling too.

  ‘Better than not having the guts to do anything,’ Verity said, standing back to survey their work. With all the rags out of the slits in the walls, she could see how beautiful the chapel must have been once. It was filled with shafts of dusty sunlight and the sound of seagulls.

  ‘He scared me, too, though,’ Jimmy said, his face serious.

  ‘How do you mean?’

  Jimmy fell silent. ‘You know, sometimes it’s been a relief that he hasn’t been here.’ Jimmy seemed to swallow hard. ‘Is that dreadful?’

  ‘No,’ Verity said, and she thought about her mother and Denny, too. ‘You can’t live by other people’s expectations, whether you love them or not.’

  ‘He wanted me to be like him, but I wasn’t.’

  Verity shrugged. ‘Perhaps you had more to lose.’

  Jimmy shook his head. ‘I don’t know. I miss him. But then, I can’t help feeling that if he was here, then you …’

  He didn’t say ‘wouldn’t be’, but Verity knew what he meant all the same. She nodded and, after a while, he bent over and continued sweeping the floor with two bits of cardboard.

  Verity glanced at him. In profile, she could see how slim and agile he looked. There was something so boyish about his face and she could see how he was going to look better and better as he got older. She realised now, as she looked at Jimmy, that she loved his face. She loved the variety of his quirky expressions – how he looked when he concentrated or when he was bored, when he was happy or sad, or how he looked now as he worked.

  But it was more than his looks that intrigued her. She loved the way he thought, how he expressed himself and how, when she was with him, she didn’t have to censure anything she said. She’d spent so long withholding information from her mother and working out how to sound sophisticated in front of Denny that she hadn’t realised the joy of being able to speak freely. Just being with Jimmy made her feel as if there was so much to talk about and to discuss. Not like the stupid conversations she’d had with Denny about his shop and where he wanted to surf, but about real things that affected them both.

  Now, as she slowly folded up the poster of Che Guevara, she thought about what Jimmy had said about if Ryan had still been around. She couldn’t help feeling that unless she’d defied her mother and taken responsibility for herself, she wouldn’t be here either. She thought back to the concert and the fleeting look of fear in her mother’s eyes as Verity had confronted her. How ironic, Verity thought, that she was famous for
singing and for having a big voice, when she’d only really found her voice last night.

  ‘My mother’s been having an affair!’ She laughed, astonished at her outburst.

  Jimmy stood up straight, dropping the cardboard and wiping his hands on an old cloth. His eyebrows drew together with concern. ‘Your mother?’

  ‘I know. Who’d have thought it?’ Verity tried to sound flippant, but she still felt wobbly saying the words.

  ‘How long have you known?’ Jimmy asked.

  ‘About a year. I haven’t been able to tell anyone,’ she admitted. ‘And I hate secrets.’

  ‘Everyone has secrets. They’re part of life.’

  ‘Well, I don’t want to have them.’

  ‘Then we won’t.’

  He said it so simply, as if it were a fact. And she knew that at that moment it was true.

  There was a pause as Verity put the poster down. ‘Do you think I should tell my dad?’

  ‘Do you?’

  ‘No,’ Verity said.

  Jimmy shrugged and smiled kindly. ‘Well, then.’

  Verity was silent.

  ‘Everyone has their own love lives. You can never understand someone else’s.’

  ‘I guess not.’

  ‘And you can’t interfere, because you can’t ever know all the facts. Maybe your dad knows already. Maybe they have some sort of understanding. You never know.’

  Verity leant down, picked up a frisbee from the floor and dusted it off. Jimmy was bending down picking up a pile of newspapers. Feeling mischievous she threw the frisbee at his bum.

  ‘Hey!’ he exclaimed as it hit him. Jimmy’s blue eyes were shining as he lined up the frisbee at her. But then, as she dared him to throw it, he suddenly discarded the frisbee with a growl and started to chase her. Verity yelled, jumping out of his way, as Jimmy darted after her. They chased each other all around the chapel, as Verity dodged out of the way, her stomach aching with laughter and breathless exertion. She scrambled up on to the altar.

  ‘Not fair,’ Jimmy panted. ‘That’s sacrilegious.’

  Verity surrendered, leaning over to put her hands on Jimmy’s shoulders. He put his hands on her waist and she jumped down on to the wooden floor. For a split-second, as he held her in mid-air and she stared down at his smiling face in the dusty sunlight, she was filled with happiness. Then she landed and the heel of her shoe broke through the floorboard. With a yelp, she fell away from him.