Pressure

by Betsy Reavley

  Closing my eyes I lean back and rest my head on the wall. My eye feels so swollen and tender.

  ‘You don’t look well.’ Susie puts her cold hand on my forehead. ‘Please go and lie down. Just for a little while.’

  Feeling weak, I am unable to resist her suggestion.

  ‘Okay. Maybe just for ten minutes.’

  Susie and Luke help me to my feet and, standing either side of me, they accompany me towards the sleeping quarters. My legs feel heavy and I start to worry I am going to faint. The smell of blood from my wound seems suddenly very pungent and fills my nostrils.

  ‘I think I am going to be sick.’ I stop and bend over as my mouth fills with saliva.

  ‘Deep breaths,’ Susie soothes, scraping my hair away from my face while the corridor around me begins to spin.

  I can feel Luke standing there watching me. It makes me feel uncomfortable. I hate appearing so weak and vulnerable but I am powerless to do anything to help myself. It’s more than that. I know one of these people is a killer.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ I moan as my stomach clenches into a ball and the vomit starts to work its way up my throat before pouring out of me and splashing onto the corridor floor. As I wipe the remains of the sick from my mouth, using the sleeve that is coated in dry blood, I hear Luke gag.

  ‘Let’s get her to a bed.’ Susie hooks her arm underneath mine and Luke does the same on the other side, taking care not to stand in the puddle of bile that lies stinking on the floor.

  ‘I’m not even drunk.’ I manage a small smile and allow them to support me as we make our way towards the sleeping quarters.

  Once there they lower me onto a bunk. The beds aren’t comfortable but I feel instantly at ease as my head makes contact with the pillow.

  ‘Thank you,’ I mutter, sounding like someone else. Even as I allow the darkness to take hold and consume me in a deep, feverish slumber, I am praying that I am not murdered in my sleep.

  21

  Child

  It went on like that for weeks. Mummy and Nick were happy and spent lots of time in her bedroom at night, grunting together and laughing. I kind of got used to the sound but I didn’t like it – not one little bit.

  One night, after the sounds from Mummy’s bedroom next door had stopped, I heard footsteps on the landing and saw a shadow lurking outside of my bedroom door. I pulled the duvet up over my nose and waited, holding my breath. The door handle began to turn slowly and light flooded into my room making me wince. There, in the doorway, stood Nick in silhouette. He looked so much bigger than usual and I wondered why he’d come to my room. He’d never set foot inside it before.

  ‘Hello there.’ He stepped inside and closed the door behind him, plunging us into darkness. ‘I thought I’d come and tell you a bedtime story.’

  Nick came over to my bed and sat on the end, wearing nothing but his underwear.

  ‘Do you like stories?’

  I couldn’t speak. My throat felt dry.

  ‘I like stories.’ He put his hand on the covers over my leg and gave my thigh a squeeze. I didn’t like it. His hands were strong and his grip was firm.

  ‘Where’s Mummy?’ I managed to whisper.

  ‘Sleeping. Just like a princess.’ He ran his tongue over his lips and released my leg. ‘So, would you like to hear a story?’

  Something didn’t feel right. He shouldn’t be in my room this late at night. I wanted to call out for Mummy but couldn’t find the courage.

  ‘So, once upon a time,’ he began, ‘there was a child who lived in a house. At night the house was cold and dark. One night, while the mother slept, a big friendly giant came into the house to see the child. The big friendly giant was lonely and wanted someone to talk to. Now the child, who had not seen a giant before, was scared. But the giant was gentle and explained to the child that it just wanted to be friends.

  ‘Every night for a week the giant would creep into the house and talk to the child. The child, who was also lonely, soon realised that the giant meant no harm and began to trust the giant.’ Nick paused and sucked in a deep breath.

  ‘What happened next?’ I asked, sitting up in bed.

  ‘Well, the giant told the child all about a special hug that would make the giant really happy. The child had never been hugged before and wanted to make the giant happy, so the giant taught the child all about the special hug.’

  I could see the sweat glistening on Nick’s bald head and wondered why he was sweating when I felt so cold.

  ‘The giant explained how the special hug was something that only giants and children were allowed to do, and he told the child that the hug had to be a secret or the giant wouldn’t be able to come and visit the child again, and the child would get into trouble. Now, the thought of never seeing the giant again made the child sad so the child agreed to keep the special hugs a secret.’

  ‘What was the special hug?’ I was desperate to know.

  ‘Would you like me to show you?’ I watched Nick’s hairy chest rising and falling.

  ‘Does it hurt?’ I asked, feeling afraid again.

  ‘No.’ Nick smiled through nicotine-stained teeth. ‘Hugs don’t hurt,’ he said as he peeled back the duvet leaving me exposed in just my pants.

  ‘It’s cold.’ I could feel the fine hairs on my arms standing up.

  ‘My hug will make you feel all warm.’ Nick placed his hands on my pale shoulders and pulled me into him. ‘There, that’s nice, isn’t it?’ His arms were tight around me and I found it hard to pull away.

  ‘Don’t struggle.’ Nick grabbed the back of my head, holding my hair tightly in his fist, and buried his face into my neck. ‘The special hug hasn’t finished yet.’

  22

  Fiona

  After a few years spent cutting my teeth in the navy I decided I wanted out. Working so closely with so many men had been thrilling at first but I soon grew tired of the politics that revolved around being a woman. Not that I was the only female on board, but I was attractive and headstrong, which worked sometimes to my advantage but often against me.

  The senior officers were the worst. One in particular really had it in for me. She was an unattractive dumpy thing, with piggy eyes, dry frizzy blonde hair and a nose that would scare the crows.

  I put up with it for as long as I could but grew tired of constantly feeling her watchful eye wherever I went. Heaven knows why she had it in for me. Maybe she was jealous. Hell, maybe she fancied me.

  When I decided I’d had enough of the navy I felt like a weight had shifted. The navy had let me see the world and given me confidence to believe in myself, but I felt as if I’d outgrown life on board surrounded by so much testosterone.

  I returned to Britain after months spent at sea and decided to look for work in another field. My experience meant that I was suited to life at sea and for a while I worked on a private yacht, sailing a millionaire around the southern French coast. The work was easy, the money was good and the weather was better, but I grew bored and craved more adventure.

  A few months later I heard through a friend that a position had become available on board a scientific explorer submarine and quickly put myself forward. I learnt, that if I were offered the job, I would be working closely with a small team who were mapping the ocean bed around Greenland and researching the marine life in those waters.

  Having spent enough time with the super-rich, being on board with down-to-earth scientists sounded like a dream, so I made my way to Liverpool for the interview.

  I’d spoken to Patrick on the phone and he sounded like a nice man, so I wasn’t daunted when I met him for the first time. He was good-looking and very different to the suave millionaire and the navy officers I’d been used to dealing with. Patrick was a breath of fresh air. He was laid back and comfortable with himself without being arrogant. I took an instant liking to him.

  In this business you don’t apply for a job in the same way you have to in other industries. As soon as I’d spoken to Patrick and he’d seen my
CV it was all pretty straightforward. The position was mine if I wanted it and we just had to meet to work out the finer details.

  I listened intently as Patrick talked me through his career to date, and was fascinated by the life he’d led. His passion for the sea was tangible and inspiring. It is safe to say that I was looking forward to working with him from the start.

  My first few weeks on board The Pica Explorer were not as smooth sailing as I’d hoped, thanks to Anya, a fellow scientist, who had worked with Patrick for some time and clearly had a soft spot for him. She saw me as a threat and was extremely frosty from the moment I stepped on board. Having left behind one angry bitch in the navy, I wasn’t over the moon to find I’d landed a job working with another.

  I understood she felt threatened, especially since Patrick and I quickly built up a rapport, but it was clear to me that her feelings for him were not reciprocated so I really couldn’t understand why she was so cold to me. At that stage, Patrick and I only participated in some gentle flirting and I learnt quickly not to do so around Anya, who would glare at me with her snake-like eyes. It gave me the willies.

  After a while I got tired of getting the cold shoulder from her. I’d done nothing wrong. In fact, I was second-in-command and I grew irritated by her snide remarks and icy stares. Her behaviour towards me only encouraged me to do everything in my power to wind her up. I’d had enough of jealous women to last me a lifetime and Anya Olsson was not going to get the better of me.

  Having reached the end of my tether, I proceeded to flirt shamelessly with Patrick who, I was glad to discover, enjoyed the attention and flirted back.

  As for the other people we were working with, none of them seemed to mind in the slightest, which I could see wound Anya up even more.

  Then one evening, while I was sitting playing chess with Patrick, it dawned on me that I was actually falling in love with the man. No longer was my flirting an attempt to piss off Anya. I realised I had strong feelings for him and it hit me like a fist to the stomach. I’d had relationships before but this felt different – larger, somehow.

  So, when I had the opportunity to kiss him, I made my move. Despite the age gap it felt natural and right. I knew then that I would love him for the rest of my life. The fact that our budding romance would annoy Anya was merely a bonus.

  At the start of the affair we took things slowly. Being trapped on board a submarine with other people wasn’t the most romantic place to start a relationship and privacy was hard to come by. We’d steal moments together, kissing in the engine room or having a fumble in the bathroom but it wasn’t easy to keep it hidden from the rest of the crew.

  Naturally, I wanted to shout it from the rooftops. I was in love and it felt great. In some ways, the secrecy added to the excitement of it all. We were like love-struck teenagers sneaking around trying to steal moments together in dark corners, and for some time we managed to keep it to ourselves.

  Then, one evening, Anya discovered us having sex.

  Her face when she walked in. Well, it was awful. I’d never meant to hurt her so badly. I’d just been sick of her attitude. When she saw us together she was horrified. Of course, I’d been deeply embarrassed by the whole thing and later on had tried to talk to her but she refused to listen. She called me a slut and said that she knew I was using Patrick to make her jealous. I wasn’t about to admit that she had been right, because now things had changed, but I couldn’t explain that to her. She marched off leaving me feeling dirty and cheap.

  Thankfully, Patrick had not been aware of her presence when we’d been having sex and I decided it was best if he didn’t know. What good would it have done? He would have felt awkward and it was clear to me he had no idea of her feelings for him. They still had to work together so I decided to keep my mouth shut and absorb all her negative attention myself. I’d made my bed and it was time I lay down in it.

  Having said that, despite the tension with Anya, my relationship with Patrick was going strong and I’d never been happier. I was just sorry that she couldn’t be happy for us.

  23

  The Pica Explorer

  Day three. Hour 16:15.

  When I wake up with a splitting headache, probably due to the fall from earlier, I find myself alone in the sleeping quarters and thank my lucky stars that I am still alive. I’m surprised Susie left me alone in here knowing that there is a killer on board.

  Gingerly, I get up, being careful not to hit my head again on the bunk above. The room is eerily dark and still. As the blood rushes to my head the bump begins to throb.

  Grateful that there aren’t any glaring bright lights, I make my way into the corridor and back toward the living area where I hope that the rest of them are gathered.

  Still feeling dizzy, I have to steady myself now and again and stop for short breaks. The fall wasn’t that bad. Why do I feel so woozy?

  As I turn a corner I almost collide with Luke who is standing in the corridor alone, looking into space.

  ‘Hey.’ Speaking hurts my brain. ‘You okay?’

  A strange smile works its way across his mouth and he says nothing.

  ‘Are you all right?’ I ask him.

  He looks me directly in the eye but it feels as if he doesn’t see me and he walks right past me, going in the direction from which I’ve just come.

  ‘Luke?’ I call, his name echoing around the shell of the corridor, but he keeps going.

  My brief encounter with him has left me feeling more uneasy than when I woke up and so I quicken my steps, willing myself to get to the others faster.

  In the living space I find Sam puffing on a cigarette. The smell makes me feel sick. He doesn’t look up. Looking around I see Susie, dozing on a chair in the far corner next to Frank who is snoring beside her, sleeping with his head at the most peculiar angle.

  ‘Where are Anya and Fiona?’ I whisper, not wanting to disturb those who are resting.

  ‘Gone to try and fix the sub.’ Sam’s voice is raw as if he’s not slept for a millennium.

  ‘I really don’t think that is a good idea.’ I gesture towards the cigarette that hangs out of his dry mouth.

  ‘I don’t give a fuck what you think.’ He takes a long pull and then proceeds to blow the smoke directly into my face. I cough and back away.

  His eyes are bloodshot and wild-looking so I decide not to challenge him again and meekly sit down on the other side of the room, cradling my pounding head and wishing the pain would go away. I don’t trust Sam and I don’t like being in his company.

  We sit in silence for some minutes while he continues to furiously puff away. The smoke hangs in the air like a blanket, softening the look of everything around me. I feel so detached.

  ‘They are wasting their time.’ Sam finally speaks as he drops the butt of the cigarette into a cold mug of tea. ‘We aren’t getting out of here.’

  ‘You don’t know that.’ I feel the tears welling up inside me.

  ‘Yes, I do. If Fiona really thought it could work she would have tried it much sooner. She’s just kidding herself and trying to give the rest of us some hope. If the lack of oxygen doesn’t kill us then one of these people sure as shit will.’

  ‘I disagree,’ I protest, all the while suspecting he is right.

  ‘You go ahead.’ He chuckles. ‘You’ll see. We are all dead.’

  At that moment Susie begins to stir. ‘What is that smell?’ she asks, yawning and wiping the sleep from her eyes.

  ‘Sam thought it was a good idea to smoke,’ I tell her, looking directly at him with contempt.

  ‘What? Why would you do that?’ Susie is now wide wake.

  ‘Because I felt like it and since we are all going to die in this fucking tin can I thought I’d enjoy one last cigarette.’

  There has been a change in Sam. He is more aggressive all of a sudden. I hadn’t thought he had it in him when we’d first met.

  ‘It stinks. You’re selfish. I can’t believe how selfish you are being.’ Susie puts her sl
eeve up to her nose to filter the scent.

  ‘That’s not the only thing,’ Sam smirks.

  ‘What’s that meant to mean?’ I felt my anger beginning to build.

  ‘Dominique,’ Sam said, the word full of sadness. ‘Haven’t you noticed?’

  In all honesty I hadn’t. The only thing I could smell was the cigarette smoke, and suddenly I am grateful for that, but when he mentions the other smell it becomes the only thing I notice.

  Looking over at Susie I observe the dark bags beneath her sunken eyes. She appears to have aged twenty years in just a few days.

  ‘It’s not right, her being left there. Why does nobody care?’

  ‘I know.’ I agree with Susie, sharing her sorrow. ‘We should move her.’

  Just then Frank opens one eye and looks around the room. I begin to suspect he hasn’t been asleep at all.

  ‘Well, I’m not moving her, doll.’ He sits forward, fully alert.

  ‘Of course not,’ Sam spits. ‘The great Frank Holden would never get his hands dirty, would he.’

  ‘Watch your mouth, kid.’ Frank’s small eyes are full of rage.

  ‘Whatever.’ Sam shrugs, getting up and sauntering over to the coffee machine. ‘Anyone want a cup?’

  The thought of coffee makes me feel quite sick and I shake my head. Frank stands up and stretches out his arms, his fat gut looking more rotund than ever.

  ‘Black with two sugars,’ he says cracking his knuckles, making Susie wince at the sound.

  ‘I wasn’t talking to you,’ Sam replies, making himself a cup.

  In an unexpected move, Frank leaps across the room and grabs Sam by the scruff of his neck.

  ‘Now listen to me, you little faggot. As long as there is still air in your lungs you’ll remember who is in charge. Got it? You might have killed that poor fucking girl but you don’t frighten me.’