Bed of Ice

by Sk Quinn

  ‘Do you have to be so fucking heartless? This is my brother.’

  ‘Now isn’t the time to sugar coat anything. We have to act quickly.’

  I nod. ‘I’m just angry.’ Tears flow and I do nothing to stop them.

  78

  I sit and watch Danny get whiter and whiter. His hand feels cold and soon his breathing is hardly there at all.

  Patrick barks at Carol to get water. She brings a chipped tea mug of lukewarm tap water, and Patrick tries to feed it to Danny.

  After a bit of coughing and spluttering, we force a few sips down him. But most of the water ends up down Danny’s front.

  ‘Stop, stop!’ I shout, after the third try. ‘Please. We’ll make him cold if he gets too wet.’

  Patrick paces back and forth by the window.

  ‘They’re here,’ he announces.

  He bounds down the staircase and I hear the front door click.

  ‘This way,’ I hear Patrick say. ‘Hurry.’

  The next thing I know, he’s leading two paramedics into the bedroom.

  What happens next is a blur.

  As soon as the paramedics see Danny they rush over and start shouting to each other.

  I remember seeing breathing equipment, like an oxygen mask or something. And Danny on a stretcher. But I don’t remember how he got on it.

  I end up in the ambulance with Danny, although I have no idea how. Patrick is by my side, holding my hand tight.

  As the ambulance goes through traffic, the paramedics are going mad – putting an IV line on Danny and phoning through to the hospital, telling them they have an urgent arrival.

  I don’t remember anything else about that journey. Except that Patrick is holding my hand the whole time.

  79

  After twelve hours in intensive care, Danny still hasn’t woken up.

  As Patrick and I sit in the hospital, waiting, I make a decision.

  ‘Patrick,’ I say. ‘I need to … to be by myself for a while. Okay?’

  Patrick shakes his head. ‘No. You need me with you.’

  ‘No!’ I say, a little too forcefully. ‘I just … um, please Patrick. I just need some space, okay?’

  I feel the warmth of Patrick – his huge body shadowing me.

  I really don’t want to be alone. Not at all. But Patrick can’t be with me for what I want to do now.

  Patrick’s eyes soften. ‘You’re sure?’

  I nod quickly. Too quickly. I hope he isn’t getting suspicious.

  I can’t look him in the eye. If I do, he’ll guess something’s up.

  ‘Where will you go and for how long?’ Patrick asks.

  ‘Just … uh … back to the boat,’ I lie. ‘Only for a few hours or so.’

  ‘Be back here in a few hours. I understand you need a little space.’

  ‘Okay,’ I say, my mouth feeling dry. ‘A few hours.’

  ‘Don’t go anywhere else,’ says Patrick. ‘I’ll stay here. I’ll let you know if there’s any news.’ He takes out his phone.

  ‘What are you doing?’ I ask, my voice panicky.

  ‘Calling one of my guys to take you to the boat.’

  ‘No! I mean … I really want to be alone Patrick. I’m upset. I don’t want to see anyone I don’t know. Please. Just let me go. I’ll get the tube. It’ll be fine.’

  Patrick’s lips fold into themselves. ‘Seraphina—’

  ‘Please Patrick. I’ve lived in London all my life. It’s fine. This isn’t the time to argue. My brother …’ I shake my head, new tears coming.

  I’m not crying on purpose, but my tears seem to have an effect on Patrick.

  ‘Okay.’ He nods curtly. ‘But if you’re a second past midnight, I’m hunting you down. Do you understand?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Not a second past midnight,’ says Patrick, his eyes boring into mine.

  I turn away so he can’t see my eyes. ‘I promise.’

  I go back to the boat, heading straight into the bedroom and searching under the bed.

  Behind our boxes of clothes I find a bundle of ashy rags. We used to use them to clean our wood-burning stove. That’s before it got too filthy to bother with.

  I unwrap the bundle.

  Inside the rags is my eighteenth birthday present from Danny.

  A sawn-off shotgun. And a pile of green cartridges.

  80

  I pick up the gun and click open the barrel. Then I drop in two huge green cartridges and snap the barrel closed.

  Danny spent hours showing me how to load and shoot this gun. He wanted me to be able to protect myself if he wasn’t around. And Wila too.

  I’ve never used the gun before. Only looked at it a few times, when Wila was asleep.

  Funny really. I’ve fantasised about killing Ray King for years. But I’d never get revenge just because of what he did to me.

  My brother though – that’s a different story.

  I grab a canvas bag and stuff the gun inside. Then I sling the bag over my shoulder and head out into the night.

  It’s 11pm. I have an hour before Patrick comes looking for me.

  I just hope there’s time.

  81

  I can’t help but shudder as I see Ray King’s club.

  It’s exactly the same as when I worked there. All black and gold, with tinted windows.

  It doesn’t say it’s a strip club, but everyone around here knows.

  I swallow hard. Then I go to the door and push it open.

  A young girl sits at the reception desk, wearing a see-through skirt and a bra-top. She looks about sixteen – the age I was when I worked for Ray.

  I don’t know her, thank god. The girls I used to work with are already way too old for this place.

  ‘I’m looking for Ray,’ I tell her, trying to stop my voice shaking.

  I know my palms are wet and I hope there isn’t sweat on my forehead.

  She looks me up and down. ‘If you’re looking for work—’

  ‘I’m not.’

  ‘Then what do you want him for?’ She has beautiful blonde hair, but a spotty, wonky face. Her fingers are nicotine stained.

  ‘I’ve got some money for him,’ I lie.

  Her forehead wrinkles up. ‘What?’

  ‘Look, is he here or not?’ I hoist the bag higher onto my shoulder.

  ‘He’s here.’

  ‘Can I go through then?’ I say, heading towards the curtain.

  The girl shrugs. ‘As long as you really have got some money for him. He’s not in a good mood. If you’re here to waste his time it’s your funeral.’

  I push through the curtain.

  82

  I try not to think about the past as I walk through the club.

  Girls are turning on poles, just as they did when I worked here. Really young girls. Under sixteen. But when I was their age, I didn’t think I was young either.

  Not that I ever went up on the poles. I only served drinks here.

  I think of Patrick and suddenly burn with shame. He can’t know. He can’t know I worked here and he really can’t know what happened. And after tonight, there’ll be no way he can ever find out.

  I hear a low wolf whistle and turn to see an old, bald man lounging on a fake leather sofa.

  ‘All right darlin’.’ He waves a fifty-pound note. ‘Great tits. Let’s see them.’

  ‘I don’t work here,’ I say, striding past him.

  ‘Then what the fuck are you doing here?’ he shouts. ‘Fucking prick tease.’

  I was sixteen when I worked here.

  I’m not sixteen anymore.

  I stop in my tracks and whirl around.

  ‘What did you call me?’ My voice burns in my throat.

  The man looks a bit shocked. But he soon gets his cockiness back. ‘A fucking prick tease,’ he jeers, nodding at the men either side of him. ‘Either take it off or fuck off. This is a strip club.’

  I push my face right up to his.

  ‘Why don’t you take it off?
’ I say, my voice low.

  ‘What?’ The man looks startled.

  ‘You heard me. Take your clothes off.’ I pull a penny from my pocket and flick it into his lap. ‘That’s about what you’re worth. And count yourself lucky I’m paying you.’

  The man opens and closes his mouth, looking flustered.

  The two men either side of him burst out laughing.

  ‘She told you Stanley!’ one of them says.

  I head for the back room.

  83

  My hand is shaking as I turn the doorknob.

  The door creaks open and I hear Ray’s horrible husky voice.

  ‘Who the fuck’s that?’

  I push the door open and stand as straight as I can.

  God I wish my hands weren’t shaking.

  ‘Hi Ray,’ I say.

  Ray is sitting with his feet up on the table, watching a wall of TV screens. The TVs are showing security footage from the private dancing rooms.

  On the TVs I see a skinny, naked young girl moving back and forth on a man’s lap. On another screen, a girl is giving a man a blow job.

  ‘Well fuck me! If it isn’t Sera Harper.’ Ray drops his legs from the table and pats his thighs. ‘Come sit down.’

  Ray’s hair is black and thick, but it’s gone grey at the sides since I knew him. He’s fatter than he was too.

  ‘I’m fine standing.’

  Ray’s voice goes low and full of menace. ‘If you’re here for a job you’ll do what I tell you. Come and sit on my lap.’

  ‘I don’t want a job here.’

  Ray laughs. ‘Oh wait. I remember now. It’s dressing up you like, isn’t it?’

  That makes my blood boil. ‘Fuck off Ray.’

  Ray stands up. ‘Watch your mouth.’

  ‘Did you hurt my brother?’

  ‘What?’ Ray’s thick skin crinkles up.

  ‘Danny. Did you hurt Danny?’

  ‘You mean that cunt we took care of last night? Hurt him? I thought we killed him. Isn’t he dead yet? I’ll send the boys round to finish him off.’

  I rip the canvas bag open and pull out the shotgun. ‘No you won’t.’

  Ray watches me, not moving. ‘What the fuck do you think you’re going to do with that?’

  I take aim.

  ‘Put the fucking gun down you stupid bitch.’

  I pull at the trigger, and Ray flinches. But the trigger won’t move. It’s stuck.

  That throws me.

  I pull again but the trigger doesn’t move.

  Oh holy Jesus.

  Ray seems to grow taller in front of my eyes.

  ‘You stupid bitch,’ he says. ‘You stupid, stupid bitch.’

  He comes towards me.

  I lower the gun and it rattles in my hands.

  I put a hand up to cover my face and squeeze my eyes closed.

  I hear a cracking sound.

  Is it my jaw? My teeth? But I don’t feel any pain.

  I open my eyes a little bit.

  I’m still standing upright. And … oh my god.

  Ray is on the floor.

  Patrick stands over him, his knuckles clenched, chest heaving.

  ‘Patrick! Oh my god Patrick! What are you doing here?’

  Patrick grabs the gun from my limp hands, takes the canvas bag and stuffs the gun inside. ‘Of all the stupid things to do …’ He slings the bag over his shoulder and snatches my hand.

  ‘Come with me. Now.’

  I nod stupidly, stumbling over my feet as Patrick drags me back through the club.

  Everyone watches, but no one tries to stop us.

  I wouldn’t try to stop Patrick either.

  84

  Outside the cool night air hits me.

  I turn and throw up in the gutter.

  Patrick wipes my mouth with his hand and drags me towards a black four-by-four.

  My knees give way before I get there.

  Patrick catches me and bundles me into the passenger seat.

  The next thing I know we’re driving through London way too fast.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ I stammer, tasting sick in my mouth.

  Patrick stares straight ahead.

  ‘Patrick—’

  ‘You could have been killed.’

  ‘I’m sorry. I just—’

  ‘What were you thinking?’

  I look out the window. ‘My brother,’ I say. ‘I was thinking of my brother.’

  ‘And you thought you could help him by getting yourself killed?’

  ‘What else could I do?’ I say, tears coming.

  ‘You could have stayed in hospital.’

  ‘And let that lowlife get away with it?’ I’m shouting now. ‘He tried to kill my brother. What would you do if you were me? Don’t tell me you’d wait in the hospital while the guilty person walked the streets. Because I don’t believe you.’

  ‘You’re right. I’d do exactly what you did. The difference is, I’d check the gun first.’ A little smile pulls at the corner of his lips. ‘And I wouldn’t use a sawn-off shotgun. Where in god’s name did you get a gun like that?’

  ‘I think I went a little bit crazy,’ I say. ‘I just couldn’t bear the thought of Ray getting away with it. Again.’

  Patrick frowns at the road. ‘That man back there. The gangster. He’s what you’re hiding?’

  I look at my lap. ‘Yes.’

  ‘What did he do to you? If he touched you, I’ll kill him.’

  ‘No he didn’t touch me,’ I say.

  ‘What then?’

  ‘I’m just so ashamed.’ I burst into tears.

  Patrick reaches for my hand and squeezes. He’s still watching the road as we jerk to a stop at traffic lights.

  ‘Don’t be ashamed,’ he says. ‘You have no reason to be.’

  ‘You don’t know what happened.’

  ‘I don’t care what happened. I know you. I know what’s inside there.’ He leans over and presses his fingers to my collarbone. ‘And it’s beautiful. So talk.’

  I bite my lip. ‘You’ve already found out too much about me today.’

  ‘Oh?’ Patrick raises an eyebrow. ‘Such as?’

  ‘All that stuff with my brother.’

  ‘Your brother isn’t you.’

  ‘No. But he’s my family. Where I came from.’

  ‘I couldn’t give a damn where you came from. All I care about is where you are now. Especially when you go running off in the middle of the night.’

  ‘But … I mean … did you ever think my family would be this bad?’

  ‘They’re not bad. Not nearly as bad as mine.’

  ‘You haven’t met all of them yet.’

  Patrick laughs. ‘Can you stop deflecting and tell me whatever it is you’re hiding?’

  ‘Okay. I’ll tell you. Just promise not to kill anyone. Okay?’

  ‘I’ll try very hard,’ says Patrick, watching the red light. He adjusts the rear view mirror. ‘Are you wearing your seatbelt?’

  I look down. ‘Yes, I—’

  ‘Good.’

  He spins the steering wheel lightning fast, mounting the car on the pavement.

  ‘Patrick!’ I yell, swaying in my seat. ‘What’s happening?’

  He screeches the car to a halt and leaps out.

  ‘Stay there,’ he shouts, slamming the car door.

  I turn and see him pounding down the pavement. He grabs a man in dark clothes and knocks him to the floor with one punch.

  ‘Oh!’ My hand flies to my mouth.

  Patrick stands over the man, shouting something. Then he runs a hand through his hair and sprints back to the car.

  Coolly, he slides back into the driver’s seat.

  ‘Patrick?’ I ask, my hands shaking.

  ‘You were about to tell me something,’ says Patrick, pulling the car off the pavement.

  I look over my shoulder at the crumpled heap on the pavement.

  ‘What just happened?’ I ask.

  ‘Someone was chasing the car,’ says
Patrick matter-of-factly.

  I feel like all the air has been pushed out of my body.

  ‘What?’

  ‘Don’t worry,’ says Patrick. ‘He won’t chase us again.’

  ‘Who … who was it?’ I stammer.

  ‘At a guess, I’d say a friend of that man you just threatened.’

  ‘He was chasing the car?’

  ‘They. There was more than one.’

  ‘Oh my god, oh my god. Patrick … I’m so stupid. I just wasn’t thinking clearly. All I could think about was revenge. I never thought … you shouldn’t be involved in any of this.’

  ‘Well I am involved. And I’m not going anywhere.’

  ‘If there was another man, where did he go?’ I ask.

  ‘He ran. When I knocked down the first one. Clever of him, or he would have been next. Don’t worry. They’re gone now.’

  I jerk my head up. ‘Oh my god! What about Danny? I told Ray that he was in hospital. What if he sent men to find him?’

  85

  Patrick jams his foot down on the accelerator. ‘He knows your brother is still alive? That man you were talking to?’

  ‘Ray? Yes. He knows.’

  Patrick swerves around a corner into a line of cars. ‘God dammed London traffic.’ He slams his hands on the steering wheel. ‘Does nobody walk around here?’

  He sits up in his seat, craning his neck over the traffic. Then he drives into the bus lane beeping the horn and cruises straight through a red light.

  I grab the dashboard.

  ‘We’ll be arrested,’ I say.

  ‘No we won’t.’

  A few twists and turns later, we’re right outside the hospital.

  ‘I don’t suppose there’s any point in asking you to stay in the car?’ says Patrick, jumping out.

  ‘No point at all,’ I say, opening my own door.

  86

  Outside the intensive care ward, Patrick jabs at the buzzer and bangs on the door.

  A nurse hurries to open the double doors. ‘Okay, okay,’ she says, all flustered and annoyed. ‘Calm down.’

  ‘Excuse me.’ Patrick charges past her.

  I follow.

  My heart stops when I see Danny.

  I’d forgotten how bad he looked. They’ve cleaned up some of the blood, and his mattress isn’t soaked with it. But his face is still a weird shape where the bone is all smashed, and his breathing is hardly there.