‘You idiot Maddie.’ She looked up; tears had collected in the delicate lines around her eyes. Her face was clear and bright – like a landscape refreshed by a storm. ‘Don’t you remember when I went in for my operation? I was terrified. And you said something I’ll never forget. You said, nothing can change the essential you. And you were right Maddie. However you think you’ve changed, whatever you’ve been through - you’re still the Maddie we all love. Now put on that dress and some lippy and get downstairs.’
It ended up being a magical night. Some kind of fear, or shadow, was taken away by seeing my friends that evening. Their warmth, their loyalty, their humour, their relief at seeing me OK, were the most wonderful sustenance for my tired soul. I got slightly tipsy on three glasses of bucks-fizz, and showed off my bump to anyone who would lay their warm hand upon it. My boy even kicked for Abi – she said it felt like the turn of a little fish against her skin. At one in the morning I finally gave up the ghost and fell asleep to the happy and reassuring hum of their drunken laughter.
I woke up, hot and unsettled at about 4am. The house was silent. I had that slightly haunted feeling that you have after a bad dream and lay there for a while, trying to stay awake long enough to break my mind’s connection with it. Then the baby gave me a big jarring kick against the back of my hip. ‘Hush sweetheart.’ I stroked my tightening belly slowly, rhythmically. Then my mobile, which was on the floor by the side of my bed started to ring and vibrate against the floorboards, the glow of its screen making a little pool of green-grey in the darkness. I reached down to get it, my heart thumping hard, could it be him? I didn’t recognise the number. I fumbled, trying to get my fingers awake and swipe the screen, for a second I thought I’d accidentally hung up.
‘Maddie?’
‘Dan! Where are you? What’s going on?’
‘God Maddie!’ His voice was tight and hoarse. ‘I can’t believe I managed to get a phone! They could come back any minute!’
‘Where are you? Why haven’t you come home?’
‘He’s got me Maddie, he’s so angry, sometimes I think he might kill me!’
‘Who Dan? Who?’ Then there were the sounds of a scuffle, and Dan’s stifled voice saying ‘Get off me! You bastards!’
I was screaming down the phone by then ‘Leave him alone! Don’t hurt him! Why are you doing this?’ And in between my screams I heard an Italian voice say distinctly ‘Fretta! Fretta!’ And then the line went dead. I heard Jip scrabbling and growling behind the door and Dad burst in.
‘Sweetheart, what on earth’s the matter?’
‘Oh God Dad! Someone’s got him! We’ve got to help him! How can we help him?’
John still had his pyjama top on under his Mac. He seemed even more tired than usual and the lines under his bright green eyes looked as if they’d been chipped out with a chisel. He turned the phone around gently then handed it over to a young uniformed officer. ‘I just tried ringing back but it says it’s a dead number. They must have destroyed the phone straight after he rang you.’
‘Thank you.’
He looked at me, puzzled. ‘What for?’
‘For believing me.’
‘Why wouldn’t I believe you?’
‘I don’t know… because according to the evidence he’s supposed to be in Slovenia., or because in films the detective always humours the woman, but secretly thinks she’s hysterical.’
‘Are you hysterical?’
‘No. But I can’t stop shaking.’ I smiled and he smiled back. It transformed his face. It was a revelation.
‘We’ll give this to our tech guys.’ He said, handing the phone to a uniformed officer. ‘iPhones are like little computers, and they’ll be able to get information from it. We won’t need it for long, just a couple of hours to copy the hard drive and SIM. We’ll talk to the networks too – they should be able to tell us what local base stations his phone has transmitted to so we can at least get an idea of the general area.’
Dad sat looking out of the window, watching the pink dawn strengthening in the sky. He looked like an old wizard, with his tall frame folded into the chair. ‘So has he been kidnapped?’
‘It looks that way Mr Armstrong,’
‘Duncan, please call me Duncan.’
‘…Duncan. That's the assumption we must make now.’
‘But what possible motive could there be? He’s not badly off, but he’s not rich. Not by anyone’s estimation; and neither am I.’
‘Ironically, the majority of kidnappings aren’t based on money. They’re crimes of passion. Estranged parents snatching children – jilted boyfriends abducting their girlfriends.’
‘But this Italian connection, what on earth does it mean? What possible link could he have? When we went to Italy he wasn’t even born.’
‘It’s what we’re here for,’ struck in the uniformed Constable slightly pompously, ‘to take each piece of evidence as it comes, like a jigsaw, and look at it and try and work out where all the pieces go. Then, usually, we get an answer.’
‘Usually?’
‘Yes.’ Said John, shooting the Constable a cautionary look. ‘Usually. But at least now I can get my team to give some serious time to his case.’
I went and sat on the arm of Dad’s chair and held his hand. ‘I can’t bear it. I can’t bear thinking of him out there in danger. Mum loved him so much. It's just too horrible.' I squeezed Dad's hand harder and tried not to cry. Dan had idolised Mum, I think there is a certain glamour about the opposite gender parent, and it was definitely like that for Dan. Not in that apocryphal over-mothered-boy-becomes-gay way, but because they were soul mates. They had so much respect for each other. He loved her easy elegance, her openness, and that was no doubt why he had so little tolerance for dull, small-minded people.
John came over and faced us, leaning his shoulder against the French window. Yet again, I was amazed by the bulk of him. He wasn’t particularly tall and he wasn’t overweight but he seemed to block out most of the light.
‘He’s alive. If they had wanted to hurt him, they’ve had weeks to do so. He’s alive for a reason, and we have to find out what that reason is.’
I stood up. ‘I’ll help. Anyway I can.’
John turned and looked out at the dawn then at me. ‘He’s very lucky to have a sister who loves him as much as you do.’
‘Maybe I should go to Italy?’
‘No’! Dad turned round sharply. ‘You’re in no condition to do that. You’re staying here, where it’s safe to have your baby.’
John nodded. ‘I think the most important thing now is to get back to bed and get some sleep.’
I shook my head in irritation. ‘How can I possibly sleep?!’
We knelt beside each other on a window seat, facing out to sea. I'd found him huddled in a corner, crying, because there had been a big storm. It took him a while, but finally he calmed down. Again I felt the agonising pain of not being able to touch him or hold him.
‘The sea’s like play-dough today, Mum.’ I followed his gaze. Post-storm, the sea looked opaque, pitted and moulded, it’s colours somehow hyper-real.
‘What’s it like in here all by yourself? Don’t you get lonely?’
He swivelled his forehead against the glass before he faced me and smiled. ‘No. Things are always changing.’
‘But couldn’t I bring you something to keep you company?’ I nodded towards the blackness that hovered above us. ‘From up there?’
His face lit up. ‘Maybe you could! I don’t know.’
‘I want to try something.’
‘What is it?’
‘When I was a little girl I used to get night-terrors. I trained myself to wake myself up if things got bad. Let me try it now.’ I started to focus my attention inwards. Imagined myself in bed dreaming.
‘Mum!’ He sounded distressed and somehow far away. ‘Mum, you’re fading!’
‘It’s all right. Just wait.’ My voice drifted away and I felt myself kicking up through thick cold da
rkness. My lungs were tightening, I desperately needed to breathe. I pushed up as fast as I could, panicking that I was going to have to open my mouth and try to breath, just for it to be filled with blackness. And then finally I saw the gloom start to thin and just as I broke the surface I woke up. As soon as I did, I launched excitedly out of bed, and went over to my old chest-of-drawers and rooted about in the top drawer until I found him. I held him tightly to me and went back to bed. I was adrenalised and anxious to return to my son, so it took me half an hour to get back to sleep; but finally I felt the darkness close around me again, swallowing me gently down its deep throat, until I felt my feet touch the tiles. He was in the same chair, his legs crossed.
‘Don’t do that again Mummy! It was scary.’
‘Sorry sweetheart, but look what I’ve got for you!’ I drew my hand from behind my back.
‘It’s your cheetah!’
‘That’s right. I’d forgotten that he was in my old bedroom at your Granddad’s house.’
His face glowed. I held the animal out to him. He came over, gingerly but eagerly. As his hand touched the other end of the teddy I felt a small thrill go up my arm and into my heart.
‘I just couldn’t bear the thought of you down here so much of the time without a friend’ I said hoarsely.
‘Thanks Mum! He’s beautiful.’ He took him and squeezed him tightly, burying the cheetah’s face in his neck. ‘He smells of you Mummy.’ He said, going over to the sofa and cuddling up contentedly in the corner. I would have given anything to have swapped places with that teddy, but the degree of terror he showed if I so much as nearly brushed past him was so great that I didn’t dare break his rule. At that moment, a beam of sunshine came from behind a cloud and back-lit his shiny black hair, creating a silvery halo. I felt a huge wave of love break over me and tried to gulp it down. He was my boy. And he was beautiful.
‘Something’s happening isn’t it Mum.’
I went over and sat down next to him again. ‘What do you mean?’
‘Something’s wrong, you’re hurting inside again. I’ve felt it.’
‘It’s your uncle Dan. He phoned me. He was asking for help, then some bad men stopped him using his phone and smashed it up. We don’t know where he is or why they’ve got him. But one thing we do know now is that he’s been kidnapped.’
He frowned and squeezed cheetah even tighter. ‘He must be very scared.’
‘Yes.’
‘You’re going to do something aren’t you? Something dangerous?’
‘No, no. I’m just asking questions – trying to help the police.’
‘You’re going to do something dangerous, you’re thinking about going back to Italy.’ He looked at me anxiously, without thinking I went to stroke his hair but diverted my hand just in time, turning it into a reassuring gesture.
‘I’m not going to do anything dangerous, but I need to help. He’s my brother and I love him, and it wouldn’t be much of a world if we didn’t do what we could for those we love; even if it is a bit dangerous. I’d do anything to defend you – you know I would. Wanting to help my brother is part of the same thing, and it’s something powerful and necessary. Part of having a soul.’
He watched me, a little puzzled, but seemed placated. ‘I think I understand,’ he said screwing his eyes up tight, ‘maybe you do have to go to Italy, I’m not sure, I’ll have to think about it a bit more.’
Brighton 1990
Mum and Dad have been in bed with the curtains drawn for two days now, ever since we heard that the last lot of chemotherapy didn’t work. The weather is muggy and grey and the house is quiet and nothing and no-one is moving in it. When I walk home from College it looks like one of those Plague houses. All shut up, somehow shamed. This is a house where we couldn’t all stay well, where we didn’t have the strength to keep death out.
Mum said it was ok to go to College, that she understood, that life goes on. But it doesn’t, does it? Not always. I only went to College because I can’t bear to stay here, because I don’t know what else to do. You can hear her and Dad talking all the time behind the door, their voices are hushed and gentle. It sounds private, like I shouldn’t go in. Dan has gone into himself, he’s sitting in his room reading, he doesn’t want to talk. I’ve gone in a couple of times and just sat next to him and put my arm around him. He doesn’t seem to mind, even though he’s 13 now and a bit funny about being touched.
There’s a big shiny silver car outside the house today, an Audi. When I go in the house there’s a sweet, slightly spicy smell in the hall, and although it’s still quiet, there’s a feeling in the air, as if something’s changed. Dan appears from the living room. He face looks a bit squashed, like he’s been crying.
‘That guy from Italy’s here.’
‘Which guy?’
‘Amarena, Collette’s Dad. He’s been up there for about half an hour.’
‘Why would he be here?’
‘He said he’s in Brighton on business, that he heard about Mum and wanted to see her. Because they were old friends.’
‘He hasn’t seen her for about fifteen years. Why would he fucking care?’
Dan shrugs. ‘Dad’s out, said we had to start eating properly again. I think Mum’s had enough of him just lying around with her. She shouted at him and said he had to stop moping, to be strong for us. That if she could get on with it, he bloody could.’
A big bubble of anger shoots up from my tummy and into my mouth. It’s hot and bitter. I kick at the front door. ‘It’s all so fucked up!’
‘I know, I hate it too.’
My face is burning. I lean it against the glass of the door, still kicking pathetically at the base of it, making the glass bump painfully against me cheekbones.
‘It’s going to be alright sis.’ Dan has come up behind me and slipped his arm around my waist. I’m five years older than him but he’s already as tall as me. I lean back and feel his cheek against mine, wet with tears.
‘Excuse me.’ His voice is deep and velvety. We spin around and there’s Mr Amarena. His suit is shiny and perfectly ironed. His shoes are pointed and polished to a finish like glass. I recognise the smell of his aftershave as the sweetness I had detected earlier. I wipe my eyes angrily on the back of my hand. He is staring at us. Somehow he looks unsettled and a paleness hangs over his usually dark face. He looks genuinely upset.
‘I am sorry, so sorry about your mother.’
I nod wordlessly and Dan and I move away from the front door. He nods awkwardly back then opens the door and leaves.
‘Maddie…Dan?’ Mum calls us from upstairs, her voice is thin and strained, it must have taken a lot out of her to shout.
‘We’re coming Mum.’ Dan bolts up the stairs two at a time. I rush to keep up with him.
‘Open the curtains Maddie, would you?’ Mum has propped herself up in bed. She looks so thin, I feel my heart breaking just a little bit more. ‘I want a bit of light in here. I think I’ve lain around long enough now.’
‘You’ve got to be careful Mum,’ says Dan, frowning hard, ‘You don’t want to overdo it.’
Mum smiles and beckons to him. He goes over and sits on the bed. She reaches her other hand out to me. I take it and she pulls me gently onto the bed. ‘You are both so beautiful you know, so terribly beautiful. And you have good hearts and are going to grow up to be good people. I really can’t tell you how incredibly proud you make me.’ She swallows, looking for a moment like she is going to crumple up, but she doesn’t. She just takes a deep breath and gazes at us both, one by one. Her eyes are still clear and beautiful. Her face has shrunk around them though, so they stand out even more, making her look a bit like an animal, or something out of a fairy story.
‘Now I know, know that I’m going to die.’
Dan whimpers, Mum hushes him and strokes his cheek.
‘You’ve got to hear it Dan, I’m dying. You know that, we all know that and have to accept it.’ She swallows again and winces. ‘Can I have some water
, Maddie darling?’ I can feel what this is costing her, but it’s like I’m watching everything through the wrong end of a telescope. I pass her the water and she drinks from it and and sighs. ‘What I want to tell you is that now I know what is going to happen, that I’m not going to beat this, I feel suddenly at peace. That may be a hard thing for you to hear, but I’m hoping it might also bring you some comfort. For the first time in ages I’m not scared, and I know exactly what I need to do. I can’t tell you how I know everything is going to be ok, why I’m not scared; I can only tell you that I know, bone-deep, that it is. Perhaps I’ve found God, or maybe just being this close to death helps you to see things more clearly, I don’t know.’
‘I understand Mum, I do!’ Dan is sobbing now. Mum smiles at him, she looks sad and happy at the same time, like an angel, and pulls his head down onto her chest. Dan clings tightly to her, like he’s drowning.
‘Look after him, won’t you Maddie?’ she whispers, her breath making the hair on Dan’s head tremble. ‘He’s not as strong as you. Not deep down.’
I nod mutely then lie down the other side of her. She strokes my hair with her free hand. The light in the room darkens a little and it starts to rain and with a knot of misery growing in my tummy, I know this is a moment that will be with me always
The Soul Room Page 10
