Birmingham Friends

by Annie Murray

  ‘I got up an hour or more ago. Found him at it with a lighter – stark naked, blood all down his chest as well. He was going for all those sari things – God knows what would’ve happened. He’s completely out of his tree. And then she came down and they had another go at each other. It was disgusting, foul. I couldn’t believe it . . .’ Anna saw he was close to tears, the shock of it making him seem small and childlike.

  ‘Then what?’ she asked gently.

  ‘I was the one left to put it out. Neither of them seemed to notice what was going on – they were too busy mouthing off at each other . . . I was dowsing it all down. Luckily nothing else caught.’ He took a deep breath. ‘Sean went upstairs saying he was going to pack all his stuff and he was going, and Olivia went to pieces. She tried to persuade him . . . crying, and she was all over him – horrible – but he said it was too late, he was going. All this time and I never saw it. I thought Sean was just moody, or – I don’t know.’ He shuddered. ‘She’s some kind of pervert. I can’t handle this, Jake.’

  ‘What about Krish?’ Jake said. ‘Where is he?’

  Ben pointed. ‘In there with them.’

  With Ben following, Anna and Jake ran into Olivia’s house. The front door was already open and the hall floor stippled with muddy water. In the long room they were met by a sight that Anna would never forget. The acrid smell of burning and of damp ash met them straight away. The front end of the room where the table stood was wrecked. Instead of the warm glow of light through the coloured silks at the windows, daylight poured through bare panes, harsh and white. At either side hung shreds of blackened cloth, and the wall was stained dark by the flames, as were the corners of that end of the room where there had also hung saris, which must have caught fire with the speed of tissue. The table, the floor, the sills were soaking wet and a black sludge of charred material lay at the edges of the room. Overturned on the floor were a yellow plastic bucket and a red washing-up bowl.

  Olivia was sitting at the table, her elbows resting on the wet wood, apparently oblivious to the damp. Her face, stilled with shock and exhaustion, was that of an old woman, limp and grey. She still had on the long, pale pink nightdress in which Anna had seen her that night on the landing and her hair was loose round her shoulders.

  Sean was standing in the middle of the room, a black Puma bag with red lettering on the floor beside him, stuffed so full of things that it wouldn’t close. A pair of trainers were stuck in on the top. He had evidently just been saying something to Olivia and he was leaning slightly forwards, his body grotesquely angular and aggressive. At the other end of the room, Krish was sitting in one of the easy chairs with his legs drawn up close to him, chin on his knees, his eyes wide and staring.

  Anna and Jake stood for a moment in the doorway. Jake stepped forward. ‘What’s the problem, Sean?’

  ‘She’s the problem,’ Sean snarled. Anna was reminded of something wild: a wolf. Sean pointed a rigid finger at Olivia. ‘She’s sick – up here.’ The finger jabbed against his head. ‘Someone ought to do something about her.’

  Olivia protested, her voice tremulous, ‘But you loved me, Sean. You did.’

  ‘You messed me up!’ Sean shouted, his thin, pitted face contorted. ‘You don’t know what love is. You controlled me – sent me off my brain.’ He turned to Jake suddenly. ‘You ask her what she does. She leads you on and then turns against you – backwards, forwards, so you don’t know where you are. She makes you so you can’t get her out of your mind. You used me – ’ He pointed at Olivia again. ‘And last night she came at me with a razor blade, tried to slash me. Look.’ Wrenching up the sleeve of his T-shirt, he showed them a ridge of Elastoplast along his shoulder. ‘Wasn’t deep. I got out of her way. You’re a fucking crazy bitch!’ he yelled at Olivia. ‘People ought to know.’

  Bending down, he snatched up the bag with such force that the things on top fell out and he had to stuff them in again. He backed out of the room, pushing past Ben, who was standing in the doorway.

  ‘I should’ve burned the whole fucking house down. I should have burned her to death in her bed.’

  The front door slammed. There was silence, then Olivia’s sobbing. She covered her face with her hands.

  Anna went to her, afraid to touch her. Then, tenderly, she stroked the dark hair, more streaked with white than she had realized, feeling the warmth of Olivia’s head beneath it, the trembling of her body. She pulled out one of the chairs and sat down beside her, not heeding the water on it.

  ‘Livy,’ she said softly. ‘It’s all right, I’m here. Don’t worry, my love.’

  Olivia’s body crumpled. She leaned over until she was half lying in Anna’s lap, sobs breaking out, sometimes from a place so deep that she was rigid for a few seconds, not drawing breath. Then a great cry would come, high and terrible, and gulping sounds of distress.

  And Anna held her, stroking her, trying to soothe her, tears running down her own face.

  ‘Oh, Anna,’ Olivia said when she could catch her breath. ‘Anna. Anna.’

  ‘It’s all right,’ Anna said again. ‘I’m here. I’m here, Livy.’ She was overwhelmed with tenderness, and with the peculiar sadness of that tenderness.

  She didn’t know how long they sat there together. She noticed nothing else. After a time Olivia sat up and put her face in her hands again. From behind them she said, ‘I’m so alone.’

  Anna saw Jake move across to her from where he had been sitting with Krish, beckoning her out of the room.

  ‘I’ll be back in a minute,’ she told Olivia softly.

  In the hall, Jake said, ‘I’ve called a doctor.’ Seeing Anna’s face fill with panic, he added, ‘It’s just her GP. Krish told me he’s occasionally given her something to make her sleep. I think he knows her quite well.’

  They all helped Olivia up to bed as if she were a child. Her movements were slow and trancelike. Jake came back down to wait for the doctor and Anna was left with Olivia and Krish. Anna wanted to speak to him, worried by his silence, his troubled eyes, but somehow could not in front of Olivia. And she simply did as they asked her, lay down on the bed, her hair in waves round her pale face on the two thick pillows. There was a limpness about her, but her face was anxious.

  ‘Krishna?’ she said to him in a low voice. ‘You do love me?’

  ‘Yes, mamaji,’ he replied.

  Anna watched him lean over obediently to kiss her. His manner was exhausted and wooden. She felt very sad watching the two of them together.

  ‘Sleep now,’ Krish said wearily, as he went to the door. ‘You’ll feel better then.’

  Distantly Anna heard the doorbell. ‘That’ll be your doctor.’

  Olivia reached up suddenly and seized Anna’s hand, gripping it very tightly. She raised her head off the pillow. ‘The baby,’ she said in a rush. ‘My baby – I wanted to hurt Kate. I don’t know why. She was always an angel to me. But I do that . . . I’ve destroyed everything I’ve ever loved. The baby could have been anyone’s. I never knew . . .’

  They heard feet on the stairs, and a man’s voice. Olivia fell back on to the pillow. Hoarsely, she said, ‘Angus was completely hers. Not that I didn’t try. But he would never have touched me.’

  Anna smiled down at her, stroked her hand. ‘Thank you,’ she said.

  ‘She’ll sleep now,’ the doctor told them, downstairs. ‘Got herself into a bit of a state, did she?’ He eyed the burnt curtains, evidently preferring not to ask.

  ‘She didn’t do that,’ Anna said quickly.

  ‘I know she’s a bit excitable. Give me a ring if there are any more problems.’

  ‘Where’s Krish?’ Anna asked when the doctor had gone.

  Jake looked startled. ‘Isn’t he up with her?’

  ‘He came down before I did.’

  They searched the house. His room was strewn with books and papers, but he had gone.

  ‘I expect he just wanted to get away from us all,’ Anna said.

  Jake frowned. ‘Let’s look
at the top.’

  They found Ben in his room with the door open, watching a portable black and white telly, its picture dancing up and down the screen. He jumped as they appeared.

  ‘You all right?’ Jake asked.

  Ben stood up, clicked the set off. ‘I’m leaving,’ he said, standing with his hands pushed into the back pockets of his jeans. ‘I can’t stay here. I’ve never seen anything like it. It was disgusting.’ He looked from one to the other of them, mole-like behind his glasses. ‘I was really happy here. I don’t understand what’s happened. I could talk to her, and she was so lovely . . .’ His voice started to break with emotion.

  Anna was caught between pity and impatience. ‘Olivia’s had a very difficult life,’ she told him. ‘Things have just been stirred up for her a lot recently.’ She looked at Jake. ‘It’s my fault, really.’

  ‘No. It would’ve happened sooner or later.’

  Ben watched them, uncomprehending. ‘Where is she?’

  ‘Asleep,’ Anna said. ‘Krish’s gone off somewhere.’

  ‘You’re not going, are you? Leaving me alone with her?’ Ben stepped forward in panic.

  ‘I’m staying,’ Anna said. ‘Jake – have you got to get back to the shop?’

  ‘It’ll have to stay closed today. I can’t leave you with all this.’

  Anna looked at him in amazement. When Richard was forced to have time off it amounted to a tragedy. ‘Isn’t Saturday your best day?’

  Jake gave an ironic grin. ‘It’s only money. Don’t worry, Ben. We’ll be here.’

  ‘Good.’ Ben picked up his sweatshirt from the chair with sudden energy. Petulantly, he said, ‘Well, I’m off to find somewhere else to live.’

  Anna and Jake stood looking round the long room, amid the mess and the sour smell. The house felt very quiet. There was an occasional drip of water in a corner by the window, a fly circling somewhere at the back.

  ‘I wonder where the hell Krish’s gone,’ Jake said. He went to the front window, stepping on the squelching fringe of burnt cloth, and looked out.

  ‘D’you think we should be worrying about him?’

  ‘I don’t know.’ Restlessly he came back to her. ‘God, Anna, what’s going to happen to them both?’

  She shook her head. ‘They need someone else in on this, don’t they? Help of some sort. Only it seems inconceivable after what she went through last time.’

  ‘Things have come on a bit since then,’ Jake said.

  ‘I should hope so.’

  They stood close together in silence in the desolate room. Eyes troubled, Anna saw the look in his, and she turned away, frightened by the frank tenderness she found. She stood half facing him, tousling her hair nervously with one hand.

  ‘I suppose we ought to clear up.’

  He didn’t answer immediately, and she had moved to the table, started shifting the chairs away so they could work on the floor. ‘Anna?’

  She knew what he wanted – for her to turn and look at him, to go to him – but she felt perverse and raw. Too shocked by all that had happened. In the end, rather gruffly, she just said, ‘What?’

  Jake’s mouth lifted gently into a smile. ‘Nothing. You’re right. We ought to clean up.’

  They spent the next few hours sweeping and scrubbing and mopping. There was a huge relief in this activity, a physical outlet which helped ease the tension of wondering where Krish was and when Olivia would wake and what would happen when she did. And of the feelings each knew were gathering between them across the room, unspoken.

  As they worked together, Anna was vividly aware of him even if she was not actually looking in his direction: of his shape, the long legs, the large, rough hands, bruised left middle fingernail, the lines of his thick brown hair. His movements impinged on her, pulled her mind off track.

  Their conversation became foolish and self-conscious.

  ‘It’s a good job she didn’t have carpet in here,’ Anna said after a while. ‘This should clean up all right.’

  ‘Won’t do the parquet much good though,’ he replied. ‘Might start curling up.’

  ‘What a shame,’ she agreed. ‘Such a lovely room.’

  They made sandwiches for lunch, talked about Krish, Anna smoking. By late afternoon, having cleaned the room from top to bottom with almost unnecessary thoroughness, they were running out of things to do. They stood surveying their work.

  ‘I’ll put the kettle on,’ Anna said. Jake came to stand in the kitchen doorway, one hand resting on the frame.

  ‘Olivia’s been out for hours now,’ Anna said, turning. ‘I suppose I ought to go and have a look in on her.’ She looked at him, shyly. ‘I’m sorry. This is so stupid.’

  ‘Look, Anna . . . I can’t believe this.’ He searched her face for a response. ‘Can’t you say something?’

  ‘I don’t think I know what to say.’ She put her head on one side. ‘Could I have a hug?’

  Laughing with relief, he came to her and they held each other tightly. His body felt very warm and lean, its closeness a comfort. She rested her head against him, felt his arms round her back.

  ‘I feel so clumsy, so nervous.’

  ‘What of?’

  ‘Making a mess of things again. And – ’ He hesitated. ‘I suppose of you not wanting me.’

  She leaned her head back to look at him. ‘But I do. So much.’ And grinned suddenly. ‘Pretty unusual all this, isn’t it?’

  She felt his big hand gentle on her head, drawing her closer until their lips met. Anna closed her eyes.

  There was a slam of the front door, and Ben’s anxious voice calling ‘Hello?’

  They released each other quickly, exchanging a half-comical grimace. ‘We’re here!’

  Ben strode in, morosely. ‘Well, nothing much doing. Looks as if I’m stuck here a bit longer. You’re not leaving now, are you?’

  Chapter 38

  At six Anna went to Olivia’s room and found her stirring, eyes closed, her head moving from side to side. Her face was haggard. Anna waited, sitting on the chair near the bed. She watched as Olivia eventually opened her eyes, for a moment unfocusing and bewildered after this long, unnatural sleep.

  Her gaze fixed on Anna, stopped, and stared hard. Anna felt a chill run through her at the dark, flinty expression.

  ‘Anna?’ She gave a faint smile. ‘You’ve been waiting for me? That’s nice.’

  ‘We’ve been here all day,’ Anna told her.

  Olivia frowned. Then, wearily, she said, ‘Sean.’ She closed her eyes again. There was a pause before she spoke again. ‘Where’s Krishna?’

  ‘He went out. I expect he’ll be back soon.’

  In a small voice Olivia said, ‘Will you help me up?’

  Anna pulled her gently to a sitting position. As she helped her out of bed she saw the hem of the pale nightdress was stained a grubby grey from the mess on the floor downstairs. Olivia stared at it.

  ‘Jake and I have been cleaning up,’ Anna told her. ‘You won’t have much of a problem, really. Just need new curtains.’

  Olivia didn’t seem to be listening. She leaned forward slowly and nipped the leg of Anna’s jeans between finger and thumb. Anna resisted the impulse to pull her leg away. Olivia stared at the washed-out denim.

  ‘When I was your age we never dreamt of wearing such things,’ she said wonderingly. ‘You’re all so much freer.’

  ‘Mummy told me you always had lovely clothes.’

  ‘I had beautiful things. The best, if possible. My father always saw to that. Proper, tailor-made things . . .’

  Olivia still had about her the aura of a past age, Anna thought, as she started helping her to dress. Kate had adapted to the years, had worn large squarish glasses, kept her hair conveniently short, shopped at Marks and Spencer, wore comfy slacks, as she called them, when she was not at work.

  But she couldn’t imagine Olivia in slacks. There was still a formality about her approach to clothes, the way dressing was still an activity carried out at certai
n points in the day rather than something incidental. And there was the dark mahogany dressing table with matching silver-backed mirror, hairbrush, clothes brush, items all formally laid out, and a passive acceptance of Anna’s help which spoke of maids. Her limbs seemed to be heavy and she was slow and lethargic. Together they put on the cotton skirt in which Anna had seen her play the piano, and a white blouse. Anna fastened the buttons, her actions accepted without protest. She brushed Olivia’s hair, feeling its thick softness. She saw herself in the mirror behind Olivia, her eyes serious, a sad, almost reverent expression on her face.

  ‘Will you plait it for me?’ Olivia asked. ‘Then I can just coil it up at the back.’ And as Anna did so, she added, ‘Your hair is such a lovely colour. You should grow it long.’

  Once they had walked slowly downstairs together, Anna went to help Jake prepare food – pasta and salad – from what was available in the house. Olivia ate a little with them. She remained subdued, apparently detached from what had happened, and content to sit and watch television. They sat with plates on their knees, relieved at having the telly, at not having to talk. Every so often, though, Olivia roused herself and looked round restlessly, saying, ‘I wish Krishna would come back.’

  By the time it got to nine o’clock, Anna and Jake were giving each other uneasy glances. They knew Krish had few friends, had not been allowed them. ‘Perhaps he’s gone to see Theo?’ she suggested. ‘They get on pretty well, don’t they?’

  Olivia looked doubtful. ‘We could telephone,’ she suggested.

  ‘Let’s give him a bit more time,’ Jake said. ‘After all, it’s not exactly late yet.’

  They sat through the news, each of them taking little of it in.

  The phone rang at ten-thirty. Jake leapt up and went to the hall. Anna heard his voice, solemn, saying mostly, ‘Yes . . . yes . . .’ He asked something, said yes again, then rang off.

  He appeared at the door, his expression unreadable. ‘Anna, can I have a word?’ Olivia watched impassively as Anna left the room.

  Jake pulled her urgently along the dark hall. ‘That was Selly Oak Hospital,’ he whispered. ‘They’ve got Krish.’