Survivor

by Roberta Kray

  Jude threw her a glance. ‘What’s wrong? What’s the matter?’

  ‘Nothing.’

  ‘So what’s with the face? I’m only saying it like it is. Don’t start going all moody on me.’

  ‘I’m not.’

  ‘Yes you are.’

  Lolly sighed into her knees. ‘I was just wondering.’

  ‘Wondering what?’

  She took a moment to gather her thoughts. ‘About being bad,’ she said. ‘What if… what if I’m bad too? I could be. I could be a bitch.’

  Jude threw back his head and laughed. ‘You?’ he said. ‘Don’t be ridiculous! You’re nothing like that. You’re not that type at all. Jesus, you’ve no worries on that score.’

  By which he undoubtedly meant she wasn’t beautiful enough to stir up feelings – be they good or bad – in the pure white souls of boys like Jude Rule. Lolly felt her cheeks burn red and was glad of the cover of darkness. ‘You can’t know that,’ she insisted, sounding more petulant than she intended.

  ‘Believe me, I do. What are you thinking?’

  Lolly shrugged. ‘I don’t see how you can tell how people are going to turn out. You can’t be sure of anything.’

  ‘Crap,’ he said. ‘There are plenty of things you can be sure of.’

  Lolly leaned forward slightly, letting her long, straight brown hair fall across her face like a curtain. She didn’t want him to be able to see her properly. There were tears in her eyes but she didn’t dare brush them away in case he noticed. She knew Jude would never love her the way she loved him. She was small and skinny and plain. Her chest was as flat as a pancake. She didn’t even know how to smoke. Amy Wiltshire could smoke; she smoked with style like Lauren Bacall.

  There was a few minutes’ silence between them while the final scenes of Dead Reckoning played out on the screen. Lolly watched without really watching, her mind full of Jude. She flinched a little when he spoke again.

  ‘What do you fancy next, then? The Big Sleep, Sunset Boulevard?’

  Normally Lolly would have leapt at the opportunity to spend a couple more hours with him, but not today. She felt all twisted up inside, winded, as though she’d been punched in the stomach. Quickly she jumped to her feet.

  ‘I can’t. I’ve got to go.’

  Jude didn’t try and persuade her to stay. He didn’t even ask where she was going. He wasn’t bothered whether she was there or not. ‘Okay. See you, then.’

  ‘See you.’ While the credits slid down the screen, Lolly made her way to the door and let herself out. As she stepped into the outer hallway she could still hear his voice echoing in her mind: Lol-it-a, Lol-it-a. She rubbed at her face with both her palms; her hands felt warm and sticky.

  Lolly hit the button for the lift and then, while she waited, walked over to lean on the rail and look down over the estate. It was after one now and the sun was high in the sky. It beat down on the concrete tower, spreading warmth through the stone and the rusting metal of the rail. She breathed in the hot air, feeling its dusty thickness catch in the back of her throat.

  As she glanced over to the right her attention was drawn to a crowd gathered outside Carlton House on the patchy square of grass. Something was happening. She leaned out over the rail and shielded her eyes, trying to get a better view. It was probably a bust-up between some of the local lads; they were always knocking seven bells out of each other.

  A short ting told her the lift had arrived and she moved back, intending to return to the landing. But just as she was about to look away, the crowd shifted and she was able to catch a fleeting glimpse of what they were all gawping at. Immediately she froze, her blood running cold. Her eyes widened with shock and horror. The hairs stood up on the back of her neck. It couldn’t be… it couldn’t. But there was no mistaking that flash of pale blue, that stream of long dark hair.

  The crowd moved again like a door closing, and her view was obscured. But she knew what she’d seen. For a moment Lolly’s legs wouldn’t move. Her feet were stuck to the ground as though they were glued. She felt sick, dizzy, overwhelmed. And then, just as she thought she might faint, the adrenalin kicked in.

  Lolly lurched away from the railing and sprinted back inside. She hammered on the door with her fists. ‘Jude! Jude! Jude!’

  3

  Lolly launched herself down the stone steps as though the devil was on her heels. She ran with abandon, with desperation. No, it couldn’t be her. It couldn’t. Panic swept through her mind, drowning out every other thought. A sharp screaming pain was cutting through her head. As she descended the stairwell, the floor numbers flashed before her eyes: eleven, ten, nine, eight… Her chest was heaving, her heart wildly thumping.

  Behind her she could hear Jude’s pounding footsteps and the sound of his heavy gasping breath.

  ‘Lolly!’ he kept calling out.

  She didn’t stop. She couldn’t.

  By the time she was approaching the bottom, Lolly’s fear had grown to monstrous proportions. Like a fire-spitting dragon, it threatened to engulf her completely, to incinerate the very foundation of her life. One single word was burnt into her consciousness. No. She said it over and over, a mantra to keep the badness at bay. Not far to go now. She jumped the last few steps and hit the ground running. As she was pushing through the crowd, Jude finally caught up with her. He grabbed hold of her elbow and brought her to a standstill.

  ‘You can’t,’ he insisted. ‘You mustn’t.’

  But she had to see. She had to know. She had to be sure.

  ‘Don’t do it, Lolly.’

  He was taller then her, taller than most of the other people. He could see over their heads to what was lying on the ground. She could see the look on his face, an expression halfway between horror and disgust.

  Lolly struggled free of his grasp and pressed on forward. Nothing was going to stop her. No one. ‘Let me through,’ she demanded, lashing out with her arms. In the distance there was the sound of a siren, the high whining noise piercing the air. She was suddenly aware of all kinds of odd things, strange disjointed thoughts and memories, as though her life was flashing before her.

  She didn’t have time to brace herself, to even begin to prepare for the dreadful vision that awaited her. One second she was pushing through the crowd, the next… Her heart seemed to stop as she saw her mother’s twisted body lying on the grass. The breath flew out of her lungs. A low moan escaped from her throat. No.

  Lolly sank to her knees and clutched at the sleeve of the pale blue jacket. Her mother’s grey eyes were half open and glassy, but she was seeing nothing now. A halo of dark red blood ringed her head, seeping into the long dark hair fanned out across the grass. She was lying awkwardly with one arm thrown out and the other trapped beneath her. Her lips, slightly parted, seemed poised to utter some final words, but there was only silence.

  Lolly stared. It was her mother and yet it wasn’t. It was what was left of her mother: a broken shell, a shattered life. It didn’t make sense. What had happened to her? Why was she lying here? She couldn’t bear to look at her, couldn’t stop looking. She held on to the jacket sleeve, to the flimsy cotton, as if some comfort could be found in it. She prayed to God that it was all a bad dream. She prayed to wake up.

  The sun beat down but Lolly didn’t feel the heat. Shock had wrapped itself around her like an icy blanket. She shivered and her teeth began to chatter. Sounds came from behind, a gasp or two, shuffling noises, muted voices. She could feel the crowd gawping, curious spectators at a gruesome accident. And then one voice rose high enough for her to hear.

  ‘The poor cow must have thought she could fly.’

  It was only at that moment that Lolly realised how her mother had died. Stricken, she raised her face to stare up at the tall tower, at the endless rows of windows, at the walkways that ran along each floor. Which one had it been? She had a sudden image of her mother falling, falling, like an angel from the sky.

  Lolly gazed up for a while and then spun round, her eyes blazing.
‘Go away! Stop looking! Leave her alone!’

  The people shuffled back a little but didn’t leave. A drama was playing out and they wanted to be part of it.

  Jude crouched down beside her, briefly laid his hand on her shoulder and then removed it again. ‘Sorry,’ he said. ‘Shit, I’m sorry.’

  Lolly knew there were no right words. His were as good as any others. It didn’t matter what anyone said. Nothing mattered any more. She gazed in silence at her mother’s body. How could someone be there one day and then gone the next? It didn’t make any sense. She couldn’t bear it. She wished she was dead too.

  ‘The ambulance is here,’ Jude said. ‘They’ll take care of her, Lol.’ He reached out and gently prised her fingers off the sleeve of the jacket. ‘You have to let go now.’

  All of a sudden there was a rush of activity, of uniforms, of strangers. Within minutes the police had arrived too, taking charge and forcing the crowd back. But not far enough that Lolly couldn’t still hear what was being said.

  ‘Her name’s Angela something. She lives in Haslow House.’

  ‘She’s a jumper.’

  ‘No, I didn’t see it myself, but it was from up there.’

  ‘Yeah, that’s her kid.’

  The comments flowed over her like cold waves. A jumper? What did they mean? Her mum hadn’t jumped. It had been an accident. It must have been. She had leaned too far over the edge and… Or maybe she’d been scared, running away from someone. Or… She didn’t have time to finish the thought. Brenda Cecil appeared from nowhere, a bustling, practical presence. The woman grabbed hold of Lolly’s arms and, before she knew what was happening, pulled her to her feet.

  ‘Come on, love. You can’t stay here.’

  ‘I have to. I have to be with her. I can’t leave her on her own.’

  ‘She’s not on her own. She’ll be taken care of. I promise.’

  But still Lolly resisted. She couldn’t stand to be parted from her mother. It wasn’t right. It wasn’t bearable. She tried to break free but Brenda hung on tightly.

  ‘You don’t want her lying out here, do you? You’ve got to let them take her away.’

  ‘I’ll go with her.’ Lolly turned towards Jude, pleading with him to come to her rescue. ‘Tell her. Tell her I have to.’

  Jude, who’d stood up too, was white-faced. He wrapped his arms round his chest and visibly shuddered. ‘It’s for the best, Lol. They’ll… Look, they’ll be careful, yeah? I’ll make sure. You go with Brenda. It’s what your mum would have wanted.’

  Lolly vehemently shook her head. ‘No, she wouldn’t. She wouldn’t want me to leave her. I don’t want to leave her.’

  Brenda’s grip tightened, her thick fingers digging into Lolly’s skinny arms. ‘Come on, love. This is no good. It’s time to go. You’ve got to be brave now; you’ve got to be a big girl.’

  ‘Jude,’ she begged again. ‘Please. I can’t…’

  ‘I’ll take care of her,’ he said. ‘I swear.’

  Lolly, too weak to fight back, was already being hauled across the grass. The crowd parted to let them through. She turned her head desperate for a final look. There was a tight suffocating feeling in her chest, a taste of bile in her mouth. She heard a terrible sound, a high-pitched keening like an animal in pain. She had no idea it was coming from herself.

  4

  Five days later Lolly was still at Brenda’s. She remained in a state of shock, trying to come to terms with something it was impossible to come to terms with. The loss was too huge, too painful, to face head on. She would creep around it, trying to approach from different angles, casting quick frightened glances towards a truth that made her heart ache. It was the finality that scared her most, the thought that her mum was gone for ever.

  Since that afternoon Lolly had barely spoken and she hadn’t slept much either. She didn’t like it at the pawnbroker’s – she wanted to go home – but it seemed she didn’t have much choice in the matter. Decisions were being made for her and what she desired was neither here nor there.

  People came and went, asking questions, looking her up and down. Police officers and social workers provided sympathetic smiles and spoke in soft wheedling voices. They asked about her father, what his name was, if she ever saw him. The only thing Lolly knew for sure was that he was ‘a waste of space’. (That was as much as her mum would say.) When it came to grandparents, aunts, uncles and cousins, she was equally at a loss. It had only ever been her and her mum – and now it was only her.

  There were other questions of course. How had her mother been the night before? What had she said? Had she been sad or upset? Confused, perhaps? Lolly kept her answers short. She didn’t tell the truth. She didn’t tell them about the pacing, the anxiety, the fear her mum had felt about being followed and spied on.

  ‘She was okay.’

  ‘She wasn’t worried about anything in particular?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Are you quite sure?’

  ‘Yes.’

  Lolly knew what they thought, that her mum had taken the lift up to the top of Carlton House, climbed over the railing and jumped. She knew this because of what she’d heard five days ago, and because she’d listened in to Freddy and Brenda Cecil talking.

  ‘Christ, she’s always been nuts but I never saw that coming. Topping herself like that. You’d think she’d spare a thought for the kid.’

  Brenda heaved out a sigh. ‘Well, she was never right in the head and that’s a fact. I doubt she was thinking straight. And she was always forgetting to take those pills of hers. Still, every cloud has a silver lining.’

  ‘You’re not still on about that, are you? It’s a load of bollocks.’

  ‘You won’t be saying that if it’s true.’

  ‘The woman was mad, an out and out screwball. You can’t believe anything that came out of her mouth.’

  ‘We’ll see. And in the meantime, make sure you’re on your best behaviour. You tell them Lolly’s welcome here, right? Don’t go putting any doubts in their heads.’

  That was as much as Lolly had heard. She hadn’t been deliberately eavesdropping, just sitting at the top of the stairs, dwelling on stuff. The door to the downstairs living room was open and the voices had floated up to her. She wasn’t sure what it all meant, other than the part about her mum being nuts. That bit was easy to understand.

  This afternoon, just before another visit from the social worker, Brenda had sat her down and given her ‘the talk’. The woman’s large frame and plump smiling face created an impression of big-hearted jolliness, but Lolly wasn’t taken in. She had always been suspicious of her. Something cunning lurked behind the mask, something false.

  ‘Now, I know things ain’t been easy for you, love, what with your poor mum and all, but it’ll get better. Everything gets better if you just give it time. And you know you’re welcome to stay here, don’t you? We’re happy to take you in as part of the family.’ Brenda paused for a moment, staring hard at Lolly as if she expected her to say something.

  Lolly said nothing.

  Brenda’s smile faded and her voice took on a harder edge. ‘Although if you want them to take you away to a kid’s home, that’s entirely up to you. You only have to say the word. No one’s going to make you do anything you don’t want to. Those places aren’t nice, though, not nice at all. I’ve heard all sorts goes on. And God alone knows where you’d end up. It could be the other side of the country.’

  ‘Why can’t I go home?’