Storms

by Chris Vick

  ‘Where you going?’ he said.

  ‘I don’t know,’ she said.

  ‘What about us?’ he said.

  ‘I don’t know if there is an us,’ she said.

  She turned, and walked out.

  ‘Hannah!’ Jake called out, after her. ‘Hannah.’ Him calling her name was a pull on her, slowing her down, until she felt she was wading through deep water. But she carried on, till the slow pull of his voice was replaced by cold numbness.

  *

  Phoebe was outside. They got in the car.

  Phoebe started the engine, but Hannah held a hand up and she turned the engine off.

  ‘You okay, Hann?’

  ‘I just need a … a mo …’ Hannah shook her head. Her face crumpled. Her shoulders juddered. She felt the seatbelt loosen. Phoebe’s arm was round her, pulling her, till her head lay on her friend’s shoulder.

  She sobbed, for long minutes. Phoebe didn’t speak, but kissed the top of Hannah’s head and rubbed her shoulder.

  Eventually Hannah sat up, sighing deeply, gathering herself.

  ‘It was drugs, Phoebes.’ She told her friend what she knew, running through everything she and Jake had said to each other.

  Phoebe spoke with gentle kindness. ‘Hann, how long have we been friends? Forever, right?’

  Hannah nodded.

  ‘You know I love you. That’s why I’m going to tell you what you need to hear, not what you want to hear.’

  Hannah knew what came next. She could have guessed it word for word.

  Phoebe undid her own seatbelt and turned to face Hannah, square.

  ‘You have to finish it, babe. You have to get on that plane to Hawaii and leave him behind.’

  ‘But …’

  ‘Don’t say it, Hann. Just don’t say it.’

  ‘… I love him.’

  ‘You said it.’ Phoebe sighed.

  ‘I didn’t know how much till this happened. Seeing him lying there. I know it’s stupid. I know that. But it’s true. I know all of you are right about him. And I should end it. But I love him. Jake is part of who I am. I need him, just like I need to see the sea every day. It’s not about whether it’s right or wrong, it’s about belonging.’

  Phoebe shook her head. ‘Christ, Hannah Lancaster.’ The corners of her mouth pulled down. She knew Phoebe was being kind, and hiding how sickened she really was. ‘Right,’ Phoebe said, starting the engine. ‘I’m taking you home.’

  ‘No! No … just wait here. Please, Phoebe. Five minutes. That’s all I need.’

  Phoebe frowned. ‘Five minutes for what? You going back to see him?’

  ‘Wait here. Please.’

  Hannah got out of the car and marched back to Jake’s room. A nurse was talking to him.

  Jake’s face lit up, then dimmed. Maybe she looked fierce. She felt it.

  ‘Can you leave us, please?’ she said to the nurse.

  ‘You can’t just—’

  ‘Now. Please.’ The look she gave sent the nurse scurrying.

  ‘Hannah …’ That hand reached out to her again. A trick he kept trying. She didn’t take it. She didn’t sit down either.

  ‘Jake.’

  ‘Yes?’

  ‘You know who did this.’ She pointed at his bandaged leg. ‘So, you go to the police. You tell them everything.’

  ‘But—’

  ‘Shut up and listen. You tell them everything. You haven’t actually sold any drugs, have you? You said the deal went bad. And if you give them the criminals, you can do a deal and they won’t prosecute you. I’ll get Dad to help you, with a lawyer. You’ll have to fess up. Come clean. Give the police these people. The ones that shot you. Who they work for. You know who that is, right? Do this. And maybe, just maybe, you and me – we’ll be okay.’

  ‘You don’t understand, Hannah. You don’t know what you’re asking.’

  She was shaking now. ‘I do. I bloody do. Don’t fucking patronise me. You, Dad, Steve. All of you, telling me I don’t know what I’m doing. All of you telling me what I should be doing. I’m sick of it! You’re going to tell me we don’t know who we’re dealing with. That they are – what was that expression you used? – “bad characters”. But I’m not afraid of them. If you are, you’re a coward. Are you afraid of them, Jake?’ she said, spitting sarcasm.

  ‘No,’ he said. ‘I ain’t.’

  ‘And do you love me?’

  ‘You know I do.’

  ‘Well, right now, I don’t even know you.’ She pointed at him. ‘These men are evil, Jake. You tell the police. Everything.’

  He looked deep into her eyes. ‘You don’t want me to do that. Trust me.’

  ‘Last chance. It’s time to grow up, Jake. Well?’

  Sadness filled his eyes. The light in them was dying.

  ‘I can’t. I couldn’t do that to … I can’t say why.’

  She tried to force the words to her lips. Goodbye, Jake. But she couldn’t speak them. And he didn’t deserve them. Not even that.

  She turned and left. Jake didn’t call after her.

  Jake

  JAKE WAS WOKEN by the rattle of curtains being pulled round his bed.

  The pain in his leg was dull. The painkillers were doing their job. But the memory of Hannah, walking away forever, pierced through the fog.

  ‘Shiiiit,’ he slurred. He looked up, expecting to see a nurse ready with questions and pills.

  No nurse. Just Goofy, sitting in the bedside chair. The lights were on. It was evening.

  ‘Oh, it’s you,’ Jake said.

  ‘Expecting Hannah?’

  ‘I got binned. No thanks to you.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘Hannah. I told her the truth, most of it at least.’

  ‘Good.’

  ‘But she said I had to go to the police and fess up, or else me and her … we’re over … So we’re over.’

  Goofy’s brow was creased.

  ‘Well, she’s making sense. But right now you got bigger things to worry about, my friend.’ Goofy got up, peeked outside the curtains and sat back down. ‘You’ve had visitors. And they weren’t here to wish you well.’ Goofy shot Jake a knowing look. It took him a second to twig. He sat up, tried to force his head into alertness, but he was woozy with painkillers.

  ‘They here now?’ he said. ‘They see you?’ Jake strained his ears for voices or footsteps.

  ‘No. But they’ll be back.’

  ‘How do they know I’m here?’

  Goofy talked fast and low. ‘They shot you. Not rocket science, is it? Where else you gonna go? Probably why they did it. So they can find you. They wait a day or two in case there’s cops about, then they come and “visit” you.’ Goofy made rabbit-ear air quotes with his fingers.

  ‘Not a lot they can do here,’ said Jake.

  ‘You reckon? They can threaten you, and your family. They think we’ve still got the rest of their gear, don’t they?’

  Jake winced, remembering Goofy throwing the stuff into the water.

  ‘Told you that was stupid.’

  ‘Mebbe. Any case, they’re never going to believe we haven’t got it, are they? Not that I’d give it them if we had. Scumbags.’

  ‘What can we do?’

  ‘Tell the law, of course. Face the music. Come clean. With everyone. You’re out of your depth, man. Me too.’

  ‘Can’t do that. Think what it’d do to Hannah. And you can’t be involved, can you?’

  ‘I can disappear. Done it before.’

  ‘No, Goof. No way. You’ve got a life down here. This is your home.’

  Goofy leant closer.

  ‘Then we’ve only got one option,’ he said.

  ‘We have?’ said Jake, pleased there was even one.

  ‘Yeah. Avoid them. Get out and lie low. When you due to leave?’

  ‘Tomorrow.’

  Goofy reached out and pushed the large red button on the panel by the bed.

  The nurse came running. When she saw them, she sighed and folded
her arms.

  ‘That’s for emergencies,’ she said.

  ‘This is one,’ said Goofy. ‘Jake is discharging himself.’ He stood up, opened the bedside cupboard, found Jake’s bag and began filling it. Clothes, book, wallet, phone. Boxes of pills he’d been given to take home.

  ‘You can’t just go,’ said the nurse. ‘There’s paperwork.’

  Goofy dropped the bag on to the bed. He stood close to the nurse, holding her gaze.

  ‘Have men come looking for him?’ he said.

  She looked to Jake, confused. ‘Two guys came asking, yes. London types. Said they’d seen the accident and wanted to know if you were all right. But they didn’t even know your name. I was suspicious, truth be told.’ She looked from Goofy to Jake and back.

  ‘Did you give them his name?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Listen carefully.’ Goofy held a finger to her face. ‘I don’t know you, but I’m going to trust you. Those men are dangerous …’

  The nurse bit her lip, held her breath and gazed at Goofy with badly hidden excitement.

  ‘Then the police—’ she started.

  Goofy shook his head and wagged his finger ‘Can’t help, believe me. Anyone you love ever been in danger? Your boyfriend, your mum?’

  ‘No … but—’

  ‘He is. So we’re leaving. Now, if they come back, make sure they don’t know who he is, or where he is. Threaten to call the law. Those guys won’t hang around if you do that, trust me. Can you do that?’

  The nurse held her breath. Then nodded.

  ‘Come on, Jake.’ Goofy filled the bag with the last of his stuff. Jake pulled the sheets back, grabbed the crutch by the side of the bed, and slowly, painfully, got to his feet. Goofy put the bag over one shoulder and took Jake’s arm on the other.

  The nurse watched them, wide-eyed and open-mouthed. Goofy winked at her. She smiled.

  They limped slowly along, a monster with four legs, puffing and groaning. They hobbled and wobbled down one corridor, then another. When they got near the hospital entrance Goofy leant Jake against the wall.

  ‘I’m going to scout the car park,’ he said, and left.

  Fear and strain pumped through Jake’s head along with blood and adrenalin. Pain sang through the thick numbness of the pills. Cold sweat tickled his back.

  In the distance at a crossroad of corridors, a man with a leather jacket and short hair walked across Jake’s field of vision. He was visible for a second or two at most, but there was no mistaking him. It was the one who’d done the talking and the shooting: Smithy.

  Jake pushed himself away from the wall and panted, lurched, step by step round the corner – and into Goofy.

  ‘Coast is clear,’ said Goofy.

  ‘No, it isn’t. They’re here.’

  Jake hadn’t known he could move that fast. Adrenalin pushed and Goofy pulled him. They moved fluidly, suddenly able.

  As they rushed out of the entrance, a voice cried: ‘Hey!’ They carried on, faster. To the van.

  They got in and drove off, Jake panting heavily and sinking into the seat.

  ‘This is bad, man,’ he said. ‘This is messed-up bad.’

  Goofy didn’t speak. He fixed his eyes on the road and drove.

  It had all been so close, Jake thought. The money. Hawaii. Hannah. A future.

  It had been ripped away with a piece of his leg. Just so he got the message, felt the agony and knew what he’d done.

  Jake

  HE WAS GLAD to be out of hospital, and not just because it was a whole lot safer. Before Goofy had come and got him, spending long days in that soulless place had left him dying inside.

  He was reeling as if he’d been thumped, the same way Hannah had delivered him a killing blow when they first met. A different kind of punch now. Worse than a bullet to the leg: one straight to the heart.

  He had needed her to come and see him. But she hadn’t. She hadn’t answered texts or calls, either.

  So now, instead, he needed the sea. He needed air. He needed beer.

  Something, anything, that might bring him back to life.

  Walking was painful. He hobbled on crutches out of Goofy’s flat.

  ‘Where we going? Let me help,’ said Goofy, trying to get an arm round him.

  ‘You want to help? Take me somewhere to get good and drunk.’

  ‘Few pints, is it? Drown your sorrows, like.’

  ‘A few pints? Licking-the-carpet shit-faced, more like.’

  ‘That a good idea, in your condition?’

  ‘Yeah, it’s a very good idea. Long as we’re nowhere those bastards will find us. What else am I going to do? Can’t go see Hannah, can I? Can’t surf, neither.’

  Goofy shrugged. ‘All right, then.’ Good idea or not, Goofy never needed much persuading when it came to necking ale.

  Jake let Goofy help him into the van. He didn’t have a choice. And he hated himself for it.

  ‘Totally over, is it?’ said Goofy, starting the engine.

  Jake looked out of the window. The weather had cleared a bit since the storms. There were patches of blue in the sky, a sunny day in the offing. He thought it might do some good, seeing sea and sky instead of walls and screens.

  ‘Yeah, man,’ he said. ‘It’s over.’ Saying it out loud made it real. Not just him and Hannah being over, but the drug deal. The weight of it was lifted. And that, at least, was something good.

  ‘Pub?’ said Goofy.

  ‘Nah. Let’s go to a beach, the sea.’

  ‘There’s sea here.’

  ‘Too much shadow. I need light.’

  ‘Let’s go to my lock-up. We can sit outside. Enjoy the autumn sun.’

  *

  They picked up beer, then drove to Perran Cove. It was a small, natural harbour, a deep gulley in the cliffs with fishing boats and a couple of yachts. A quiet place.

  Goofy went into the old boathouse and came out with ancient deck chairs. He wiped dust and cobwebs off them, then went and found a table. Jake waited, sitting on the harbour wall.

  Jake looked along the bay, down the track at the cottages and other boathouses. He felt the breeze, and the sun’s rays on his face, listened to the ropes on the masts chiming and clanking, and looked at the rowboats, upturned and tethered.

  Sights like this usually did his heart good, but not today. In the distance, he could see one of Lancaster’s boathouses, a massive thing, blue and white and shining, where Lancaster kept a speedboat. He looked at Goofy’s lock-up with its engines and oil, then at the filthy deck chairs and wonky wooden table with beers on it.

  He finished one beer quickly and opened another.

  ‘Should you drink like that, with the painkillers?’ said Goofy.

  ‘Gonna judge me, are you?’

  ‘No need to lose it, man. Course I’m not going to judge you. Do whatever you like. Just saying, take it easy. Thass all.’

  ‘Yeah. Sorry. It’s just … all so screwed up, Goofy. It all went so bad, so quick. And it’s my fault.’

  ‘Well, it’s over now.’

  ‘Yes. It’s over now.’

  Goofy sat down in a chair. Jake thought it might be hard for him to get into one. And he might struggle to get out after some beers. So he stayed sitting on the wall.

  ‘Still,’ said Goofy, leaning forward, pointing. ‘I will give you one bit of advice.’

  ‘Oh, Christ. Here we go.’

  ‘You should tell Hannah the truth.’

  ‘I can’t.’

  ‘Because of Lancaster?’

  ‘No. I don’t give a toss about him. But if the police get involved, you get dragged in and that’s not good.’

  A shadow of worry darkened Goofy’s face. ‘You don’t have to tell them, man. You just need to tell Hannah why you can’t tell the law. In other words, that it’s her dad. Then she’ll understand.’

  Jake shook his head. ‘You reckon she’ll thank me? For her whole life falling apart in front of her, right before she’s meant to go to Hawaii? N
o, Goof. No. She adores her dad. It would break her heart. I can’t do that.’

  Goofy set to rolling a fag. ‘So let me get this crystal. You won’t tell her because you love her and don’t want to hurt her. You’d rather lose her than hurt her, and meanwhile that smug bastard Lancaster gets away with everything? Hannah thinks Daddy’s a guardian angel. One that’s full of purity and virtue. And she thinks you’re a coward for not going to the police. She believes these lies. You’ve lost the best thing that ever happened to you and that bastard Lancaster comes out the sewer smelling of roses and lavender.’

  ‘Yeah,’ said Jake. ‘That’s the size of it.’

  Goofy lit his rolly. ‘Making a martyr of yourself, you are. I dunno which smells worse, man, your burning flesh or your bullshit.’

  ‘You said you wouldn’t judge.’

  Goofy shrugged, staring into the distant sea. ‘All right, then. I’ll tell her. Fuck Lancaster. He ain’t getting away with this shit. And you deserve to have a chance with that girl.’

  ‘No!’ Jake picked up his crutch off the wall and hurled it, sending the small wooden table and beers flying.

  He had Goofy’s attention.

  ‘You think she’d thank me? You think she’d run into my arms? I’m still a screw-up. Finding out her dad’s a drug dealer would mess with her head big time. And anyway, what good would it do? I don’t have money for Hawaii. She doesn’t have money to pay for the rescue. Even if I could go to Hawaii now, I wouldn’t. What about Mum? I was going to help out, wasn’t I? No. It wouldn’t do any good, Goof. I couldn’t do it to Hannah. Why aren’t you getting that?’

  ‘All right, then,’ said Goofy. He stood, picked up the table and handed Jake his crutch back. ‘Might as well have a little fun.’

  ‘Fun?’

  ‘See Lancaster’s boathouse?’ Goofy walked into the lock-up and came out with an old pair of binocs, which he handed to Jake. Jake’s gut burned with worry. Goofy had that old crazed look, and twisted smile on his face. That always meant trouble.

  ‘What you going to do?’ said Jake. Goofy put a finger up, like saying, Wait a minute. He went back into the lock-up and came back with a tin of white paint and a paintbrush taped to a long stick. Jake had seen Goofy use it to paint parts of boats that were hard to reach.

  ‘This’ll cheer you up,’ said Goofy. He marched off down the track and along the harbour.