Descending Surfacing

by Catherine Chisnall

  Descending

  Surfacing

  by

  Catherine Chisnall

  ISBN 1456392158

  EAN 978-1456392154

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or

  transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

  “Descending” and ‘Surfacing’ are published by Taylor Street Publishing LLC, who can be contacted at:

  http://www.taylorstreetbooks.com

  http://ninwriters.ning.com

  “Descending” and ‘Surfacing’ are the copyright of the author, Catherine Chisnall, 2010. All rights are reserved.

  All characters are fictional, and any resemblance to anyone living or dead is accidental.

  Descending

  Friday, January 20th

  As I stepped into the lift, my heart sank. I had been pleased to see one of the tower lifts heading to the top floor while the other two were on the ground, but there my pleasure ended.

  Leaning on the opposite wall of the lift was one of my students. Not just any student, but the very one I did not want to see: Jamie Norton from the general trades course. I didn’t know what to make of him: sometimes he was friendly and wanted my help, other times he was downright rude and weird. In general, students started off being rude, then became more approachable as they got to know me. Jamie was so changeable that I never knew what to say to him, so I just acknowledged him with a cool nod. Today must be a bad day, because he looked away in a shifty manner.

  Sighing, I pressed the button for the eleventh floor and the lift smoothly ascended.

  It's only three floors, I told myself. I only have to share this small space with him for a few minutes.

  I tried to concentrate on my meeting with the Principal, Sonia Velasquez. I wanted to leave the college. I’d been working as a learning support assistant for too long and I was worn out. I wondered what she would say to me, and what I would say to her about my request for resignation.

  Floor 9. Floor 10. I watched the signs light on and off.

  Suddenly the lift stopped with a grinding creak. Great. Now I’d have to spend more time in the vicinity of Jamie. If only we could have kept the harmonious relationship we’d had at first. Why did he have to suddenly turn moody and dismissive? I looked over at him curiously. He was pale as usual; everyone said it was the drugs he took, whether they were prescription or otherwise. Or maybe he was naturally pasty and it showed more because of his very dark hair. He wasn’t pretty; he looked more like he’d been in lot of fights. I expect people have described me like that.

  The wait dragged on.

  ‘D’you think we should do something?’ I ventured. It was the end of the day on Friday and the college would be nearly deserted by now, everyone rushing off for the weekend. Why on earth did he have to still be here?

  He shrugged and looked away.

  ‘Dunno.’ He was fiddling with his mobile phone, probably about to blast out annoying music. But I was wrong.

  ‘Can’t get any reception in here,’ he muttered, holding the phone up and around in different positions.

  The lift shuddered, not moving up or down. I was just about to press the alarm button when the lights went out. The green emergency light came on, which was something, but too faint to make much difference. There was a creaking sound.

  ‘Jamie, I don’t like this,’ I couldn’t prevent myself from saying.

  ‘We’ll be alright, Miss.’ His face was artificially lit by the phone and it looked creepy.

  The lift started shaking and I felt a shiver of fear going up my spine. I edged a bit closer to him, feeling weak for doing so, but at least he was another human being.

  Suddenly the lift began sinking, slowly at first, with a terrible metallic groaning sound, then faster and faster.

  I screamed and put my hand out for Jamie to find he was reaching out for me too. He pulled me towards him and we clung onto each other as the lift plunged. I realised I was screaming but he was just holding on.

  The lift jerked to a stop again, and we were jostled about, still clinging on to each other.

  ‘We - we made it! We didn’t die!’ I gasped, pushing him away a bit.

  ‘We haven’t hit the ground yet,’ he corrected, peering down at me. He wasn’t much taller than me, just a few inches. I suppose he would grow as he got nearer to eighteen. I couldn’t help noticing how dark his eyes were, but then again everything looked dark in this half light.

  He set me away from him.

  ‘We’re probably on the fourth floor or summing.’ He surveyed the doors thoughtfully. ‘I’ll just -‘ He pressed the door opening button and we both jumped as the doors swished apart. The lift seemed to be between floors, because there was a lighted rectangle about two feet deep at the top whereas the lower part was a wall.

  ‘I could get out of there,’ he mused, stepping towards it.

  ‘Hang on! What if the lift moves while you’re climbing out? You’ll get squashed!’

  He shrugged.

  ‘And what about me? Are you going to leave me here while you escape?’

  I didn’t trust him because he was so unpredictable. I suspected him of having a crush on me in those days when he was being nice, especially after the suggestion he’d made to me at the end of last term. I’d known he was joking, but none of the others ever said anything like that. Maybe he was putting on the nice act and after Christmas his true colours had shown. So many maybes.

  He tutted.

  ‘No! I’ll get someone to get you out.’

  ‘Really?’

  ‘Course.’ His eyes flicked to mine and away quickly. Then he reached up to the lighted floor above and easily pulled himself up. For the umpteenth time, I was in awe of how easy physical tasks like that were for the students. Doing physical work all the time meant they weren’t the average flabby teenage boys who did no exercise except on computer games.

  I’d never taken any notice of builders before I took this job, but after two years of being around them I realised how fit they had to be to do their work. They were finished by the time they were in their thirties because their bodies were broken. I’d always scorned men on building sites, hanging around drinking tea and leering. But they needed their breaks: it was a hard, hard job, out in all weathers, lifting and carrying heavy stuff, using dangerous materials.

  Just as Jamie was halfway onto the floor, the lift creaked again, and shuddered. To my horror it was starting to move.

  ‘Let go!’ I shrieked. I leapt forward and pulled him back. He was forced to let go and fell back on top of me as the lift started an increasing descent.

  ‘You could have been cut in half,’ I gasped, out of breath as he crushed me with his weight.

  ‘Nah, not me, I’m unkillable,’ he grinned, wriggling off me but not away. He just sat next to me looking at me, breathing hard from the sudden burst of activity.

  ‘We’re going to die now, aren’t we?’ I faltered. ‘Jamie, if we’re going to die, can you at least remember my name?’

  ‘I know your name. Emily.’

  ‘Why did you stop using it and go back to Miss?’

  ‘Dunno.’

  As if that was the magic word, the lift stopped with a jerk.

  ‘I like it when you boys use my proper name. I don’t feel so – so - invisible and useless.’

  ‘You aren’t useless! It's me what’s useless. Can’t read or write properly, can’t get a job. Useless.’

  ‘What a load of … crap.’

  He was shocked at my swearing.

  ‘You’re not useless. You’re ver
y determined, kind, hard working, friendly, funny. That’s more important than reading and writing.’

  ‘No it bloody isn’t. Everyone thinks I’m thick and stupid and -‘ He stood up, folded his arms defensively and leant on the wall.

  The floor was grubby, with cigarette ends strewn about, so I stood up too, brushed myself down and went over to him.

  ‘Being a nice person will get you further than reading and writing, believe me. And having lots of friends. Honestly.’

  ‘Yeah, right.’

  ‘And I bet you’ve got loads of girlfriends.’ I took a chance, partly because I’m nosey and partly because I wanted to provoke him.

  ‘Some.’

  ‘I bet you’ve had more than some.’ It was a challenge but I couldn’t help myself. I was so close to him. Physically I mean. I’m over ten years older than him in age … but anyway, his closeness was starting to overwhelm me. What exactly did he think of me? Every time I thought I knew, his attitude changed.

  He looked directly at me, straight in the eyes, which he rarely did. There was a long moment which was interrupted by the lift resuming its relentless drop, throwing us together.

  ‘We’re going to die aren’t we? No one will know we’re here, it’ll be like a film with a big fireball going up the lift shaft-‘ I babbled, seeing my life flashing before my eyes.

  ‘We’re not!’ He interrupted, shaking me angrily.

  Then he kissed me, or I kissed him, I couldn’t tell which. I was on the edge between going freely and being taken somewhere I secretly wanted to go. His hot tongue was in my mouth, his body pressed against mine, he was all lithe and wiry and muscle. My senses were burning, my mind knew that I shouldn’t be doing this with a student but all the unspoken tension between me and Jamie had been simmering away for months and in the darkened lift, scared half to death, it was all too much. He pushed me against the wall and I was overwhelmed by the smell of him, that stale cigarette smoke with some unfamiliar smell which made me feel high. My heart was hammering and so was his, I could feel it against me.

  The lift banged to a halt yet again, but it wasn’t the fatal stop. It just brought us back to reality.

  ‘Fuck,’ said Jamie. ‘Thought that was it.’ He had a distant expression, and he stepped back from me, pulling down his t-shirt which had – somehow - almost come off.

  ‘I think we’re on the ground now.’ He grinned. ‘Come on.’

  ‘Hang on.’ I straightened my clothes, which also had – somehow - become tangled.

  I was shaking after the sudden outburst of passion, as if a long unused motor had been re-started inside me.

  Jamie pressed the door opening button and it worked again. There was only a small bit of dark wall at the top of the opening; the rest was a normal floor.

  He bounded out of the lift, then suddenly remembered me and held out his hand, grinning. ‘Come on, Emily.’

  Outside the lift was in darkness as we had come to a halt in the basement.

  ‘Hello?’ called a voice, and two of the college caretakers appeared, faces full of puzzlement. ‘Are you okay? We heard the lift creaking but didn’t know there was anyone inside it.’

  ‘Yes, we’re fine,’ I volunteered as Jamie had assumed his usual shifty expression, avoiding eye contact with anyone in authority. ‘I think you should get someone to look at it though. It's definitely not working properly and the next people in it might not be so lucky.’

  Jamie sniggered, then turned it into a cough. I didn’t know whether to laugh as well or feel worried. Would he tell his friends he’d kissed Miss in the lift? What would I do in our next lesson? Would he even look at me? At least I was planning to resign so whatever happened it would only be ‘til the end of term. All these thoughts whirled round in my head.

  ‘Cuppa tea, love? You look like you’ve seen a ghost,’ the older caretaker offered in a fatherly manner.

  ‘No thanks. But thank you anyway. I’ll just get home. I think I’ll use the stairs this time. Thanks anyway,’ I gabbled, and set off towards the cement stairs of the basement, different emotions fighting for precedence in my head.

  Jamie followed me.

  ‘Miss - er - Emily.’ He seemed very chirpy.

  What should I say now? Just wade right in.

  ‘About what just happened. I enjoyed it but - but please don’t tell anyone. I’m leaving anyway at the end of term so there’s no point telling them.’

  He looked confused by all the information I had just thrown at him. I recognised the ‘processing’ expression that so many of the boys wore when trying to understand things in class.

  ‘Okay. Why are you leaving?’

  ‘Oh just personal reasons. It's not because of you or - not anything like that - it's just - I just decided to leave some time ago. I’ll see you in class on Monday, will I?’

  ‘Maybe.’ At least he smiled briefly before walking off.

  On the way home I couldn’t switch off. What did that mean, if anything? I was thirty and he seventeen. Was it just because it was dark and we were scared and thought we were about to die? Would he really keep it a secret or tell his mates and laugh about me? It was only kissing, after all, with a bit more. It wasn’t like we’d had sex. I’d just have to wait and see if the others found out, I thought as I unlocked my front door and went into the sanctuary of my flat.

  Saturday 21st / Sunday 22nd January

  Over the weekend I thought almost constantly about what happened. I remembered how happy I’d been that day in December when the boys finally found out my name after three months of being just ‘Miss’, or ‘that bird’. That’s boys for you, though. I tried to introduce myself in September, but they didn’t want to know then. They said ‘So what? What do we care what yer name is?’ Charming.

  But two weeks before the end of term, one of them actually said ‘Emily’ when he spoke to me. It cheered me up so much, I laughed at myself for being so pathetic! After so many months of being invisible and anonymous, one little bit of recognition made my day.

  Now when I looked back, the episode seemed even more significant. They were joking about who would steal tools from the workshop, and I said ‘Oh, that Jamie, he’s a dodgy one.’ And Jamie said ‘Oh, that Emily, she’s a dodgy one.’ Right back at me. I said ‘Someone knows my name,’ and felt quite choked. Stupid really.

  The next day when I went into class, ‘that Jamie’ and his friends, John and Ryan, asked me to help them, and made room for me between them! Jamie was on the special needs register for dyslexia and so was John - for general learning difficulties - so Ryan just tagged along and got help by association. That was the first time I had been welcomed since the academic year began. Most of the students never noticed I was there.

  The next couple of weeks I sat with those three, maybe more than I should have, but it was a relief to have students actually acknowledge me, use my name and want to speak to me. They said hello in the corridor and even if they saw me at the nearby supermarket. It was a bit of warmth in a cold environment.

  We always joked about how much I wrote for the three of them, and at the end of term, full of the Christmas spirit [in more ways than one, as they had been to the pub], Olivia, the Literacy teacher, teased me about being their secretary and how they should pay me for my work. Jamie jokingly said he’d pay me by taking me behind the bike sheds [nudge nudge, wink wink] and our group giggled. Initially I was surprised that the suggestion was made by him, as he didn’t seem the type to say things like that. But it had taken root somewhere in my subconscious and slowly grown into an idea. I’d thought about him slightly differently from then on, even though I knew I shouldn’t. It was only a harmless girlish fantasy to fill the romantic gap in my life, after all.

  Then the Christmas holidays had arrived and I’d concentrated on my call centre job, which I did on Thursdays and Fridays, with extra Christmas shifts over the holidays. It was routine but I had the thought of the more unpredictable job at the college in January to keep me going. That was h
ow it worked: when I was fed up with learning support, I looked forward to the call centre work and vice versa.

  The first day after the holidays, Jamie was different, even though Ryan and John were exactly the same: friendly and keen for my help. I assumed that Jamie had problems at home because he was agitated and stand-offish. So I told Di, his learning mentor. Then he seemed to calm down so I told her I’d been mistaken. But he kept changing from distant to approachable, unlike the constant character he’d been before Christmas.

  I had a gut feeling it was something to do with Aaron, the Alpha Male of the group, because a couple of times I’d been sitting with Jamie helping him and everything had been fine. Then Aaron swanned in late as usual, and Jamie switched off, turning away from me and giving out a ‘get away from me’ vibe. So I tactfully moved away. I didn’t understand what Aaron’s problem was, but it was affecting Jamie, so I didn’t want to get involved with their power struggles.

  I had the uneasy feeling that Aaron was spreading rumours about me because, before the holidays, I thought I’d heard him making unpleasant comments about me in tiling lessons. John and Ryan seemed unaffected by him. Ryan was very resistant to Aaron, always being cheeky and winding him up, and John was just oblivious. I think if Aaron had pushed John too far, he’d have been sorry because although John was a gentle giant to me, he had convictions for football violence, so there was another side to him.

  Anyway, that had been a fortnight ago. It was now the end of January. At least I was leaving at half term.

  Monday 23rd January

  I was shaking as I went to work. It was cold, which didn’t help, and the first classes flew by, taking me inevitably towards the late morning IT class with Group E, which was Jamie’s group.

  I went to the IT room early as normal as I didn’t want anything to be different. I stood in front of the classroom door and couldn’t help but think of Friday’s events.