He's After Me

by Higgins, Chris

  ‘Tell her to get home, NOW!’ she says, through gritted teeth, and I want to oblige, I really do, but the trouble is, I haven’t a clue where Ferret hangs out and the only Ferrises in the phone book deny all knowledge of him. I try Cora again but she doesn’t answer. I try Livi but it clicks straight through. And all the time my poor mum is pacing the floor and biting her nails down to her elbows, and the hands of the clock are moving on, and there is no sign of my little sister.

  ‘I’m phoning your father!’ she says at last.

  When Dad comes back again, this time he’s got Jude in tow. Both of them look shaken.

  ‘What’s up?’ I ask as he shoulders his way through the door.

  ‘You don’t want to know,’ he mutters.

  ‘Yes I do,’ says Mum. ‘What’s happened now?’

  Dad looks at Jude. ‘It’s all over the front wall of Williams & Barnes,’ she says, her voice trembling.

  ‘What is?’ Mum looks from one to the other. ‘Tell me!’

  ‘Filth,’ says Dad bitterly. ‘Stinking, foul abuse about Jude and me. We’ve just had a phone call from security.’

  My heart sinks. It’s Jem, getting his own back.

  ‘Have you found Livi?’ asks Dad.

  Mum shakes her head. ‘We’ve tried everywhere. I don’t know where she is. Anna thinks she might be with this boy she used to know called Fer … Steven Ferris – but I’m not sure …’

  Her voice trails away and she stares at him miserably. It’s like they understand each other without having to speak.

  ‘I’m calling the police!’ he says decisively and takes out his phone.

  ‘Why?’ I say in surprise. ‘She’ll turn up, she always does. She’s done this before.’

  Everyone looks at me sadly. Then Jude moves over to Mum and places her arm round her shoulders.

  ‘Do it,’ she says to Dad. ‘Do it now.’

  He could see straight away, Livi wasn’t scared of him.

  She was on his side.

  Livi wasn’t scared of anything.

  He should’ve picked her in the first place, he thought. He’d made the wrong choice. He’d selected the wrong sister.

  Livi understood. She knew it was all Jude’s fault.

  Livi would do anything for him.

  Anything.

  CHAPTER FORTY-SIX

  I must be the dimmest person in the world. It had simply never occurred to me that Livi was with Jem.

  Even when the squad car arrives, I still don’t get how serious the situation is. They’ve already checked out Ferret and confirmed that he hasn’t seen Livi for days. Apart from being an annoying little shit, he seems to be harmless.

  ‘We’ve got an alert out for Jermaine Smith,’ says the officer. It’s DC Blane, the one I spoke to at the station.

  ‘He’s got her,’ says Jude. ‘I know he has!’

  Mum nods in agreement, trying not to cry.

  I stare at them blankly. It’s obvious when you think about it, she’s with him. They all look terrified.

  ‘Don’t worry.’ I say. ‘He hasn’t kidnapped her, if that’s what you’re worried about.’

  ‘You don’t know that,’ says Dad.

  ‘She’s run off with him!’ I say. ‘She’s mad about him.’ The world and his wife could be against Jem but Livi would be there for him through thick and thin.

  ‘I think she’s right,’ whispers Mum.

  ‘Nevertheless, we’ll put a Missing Persons out on her straight away.’

  Blane walks outside to speak privately into his radio and Mum and Dad exchange anxious looks, afraid to speak.

  ‘What’s your concern?’ asks Dad when he returns.

  The detective hesitates, like he’s not sure how much information he should be divulging.

  ‘Jermaine Smith has history.’

  ‘What sort of history?’

  ‘I’m afraid I’m not at liberty to say, sir.’

  ‘I represented him last year,’ Jude’s voice rings out crisply. ‘He had petty larceny on his record, that’s all.’

  ‘Really?’ says DC Blane, raising his eyebrows, and we know there’s more to it than that. ‘Then you’re obviously not aware that Smith has an obsessive, addictive personality. When he meets someone he likes he falls madly in love with them. Literally. He won’t take no for an answer.’

  Jude flushes, like she’s been caught out not doing her job properly. ‘Now,’ he says, ‘if I could just take a few details.’

  We give him all the information we can about Livi and he scribbles it down. Meanwhile my parents become visibly more distressed.

  After a while my father says savagely, ‘If he harms one hair of her head … !’ and I say, ‘He wouldn’t do that, Dad!’ but my words are cut off as the officer’s radio crackles into life.

  ‘What are you defending him for?’ says my father through gritted teeth as Blane goes back outside to answer it.

  ‘I’m not! I just know he wouldn’t hurt Livi. He wouldn’t hurt anyone. Not in that way.’

  ‘You don’t know the first thing about him!’ says Dad furiously.

  He’s right. Let’s face it, Jem has always been a complete mystery to me. That was part of his charm. But I am absolutely convinced, whatever else he has done, Jem would never deliberately harm my kid sister.

  Then DC Blane returns to the room and clears his throat.

  ‘I’m afraid,’ he says, ‘there’s been an incident.’

  When he told her where he was going next she’d said she’d come with him.

  He’d actually hesitated. ‘It’s dangerous,’ he’d warned her, but she’d laughed. She was really up for it.

  You could hardly blame her. Jude had messed up her life, just like she’d messed up his.

  CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN

  We tear through town, blue lights flashing, siren wailing. Bizarrely, all I can think is, Livi would love this.

  But Livi’s not here.

  As we approach Dad’s apartment we can see the flashing lights of police cars up ahead. They’ve closed the road. The area below the building has been taped off and floodlights are directed up towards the flat roof of the warehouse. It looks as if they’ve evacuated the whole building, because a small crowd has gathered across by the harbour.

  We get out of the car and run towards Wharfside. As I peer up at the roof I can make out a small figure looking down at us.

  ‘It’s Livi!’

  There’s a small flash of light. I wonder what it is until a second figure appears beside her. It’s Jem with his camera.

  A guy holding a megaphone who seems to be in charge comes over to greet us.

  ‘My name’s Phil,’ he introduces himself, and starts explaining to Mum and Dad what’s going on. I look back up at the roof at the two figures silhouetted against a background of stars. Suddenly Jem’s favourite song floods into my mind and I’m drowning in terror.

  And when no hope was left in sight

  On that starry, starry night.

  You took your life

  As lovers often do …

  Jem raises his hand and waves. He can see me. I wave back at him. I don’t know what else to do.

  A van appears and police in flak jackets spill out of it. Phil mentions a ‘hostage situation’. I stare at the guys in horror. This is crazy; they look like a riot squad. For all I know, these guys have got guns.

  ‘He’s not armed!’ I interrupt.

  ‘Can you be sure of that?’ Phil turns to me. I shake my head in disbelief.

  ‘He hasn’t taken her against her will!’ I explain, but no one’s listening.

  ‘Oh my God!’ Dad points up to the roof.

  Jem is leaning over the edge, his head and upper body dangling in mid-air. The crowd gasps.

  ‘Where’s Livi?’ screams Mum. My sister has disappeared from sight. ‘Livi!’

  ‘It’s OK! Shhh!’ I grab Mum’s arm to calm her down. ‘He’s tagging, that’s all.’

  ‘What?’ Mum clings to me in terror.r />
  ‘He’s doing graffiti. She’ll be hanging on to his legs. She’s fine.’

  Mum sobs. ‘How do you know that?’

  ‘I’ve done it myself.’

  We watch with our hearts in our mouths, as, upside down, Jem sprays an F on the warehouse wall. Then he wriggles his way back up to the roof, moves along a bit, and does the same manoeuvre again, only this time it’s a U.

  The tension lifts and a ripple of amusement passes through the crowd as it becomes obvious what he’s writing. When he’s finished, the crowd bursts into applause and Jem stands up and takes a bow. Livi appears beside him and he raises her hand in triumph.

  It’s OK. He’s loving this. So is she. There’s nothing sinister going on. He’s just being a bad boy.

  ‘He’s a graffiti artist,’ I explain, weak with relief. ‘He was pissed off. That’s all. Now he’s got it out of his system.’

  ‘As far as we’re concerned, he’s dangerous,’ says Phil curtly and walks away to confer with the heavy squad.

  Jem plays to the crowd and they egg him on, enjoying the free entertainment. Better than telly, this.

  Using the megaphone, Phil tries to talk him down. He responds by dangling upside down again and spraying his opinion of him and the police in general on the front of the building. The crowd love it.

  I gulp. Watching Jem’s antics from this angle, with a crick in my neck, unable to take my eyes away from the drama unfolding on the roof above me, I can see clearly what a dangerous game he is playing. One slip and he’d be dead. That’s the thrill of it. He’s having a ball, up there, taunting the police, sticking a finger up to them.

  Be careful, Jem. Don’t fall. I know you’re the maestro, I know you’re as agile and sure-footed as a cat, but even cats have only nine lives.

  Then, to my surprise, he adds his signature, Fin, for all the world to see. Finally, he’s come out. He’s revealed his identity. Why would he do that?

  My blood chills as I recall the words of Jem’s poem, the one he dedicated to me.

  I would go down for loving you

  But if I did, I’d bring you too.

  And if you sent me down to hell

  I’d take you there with me as well.

  But that was meant for me, not Livi!

  High up on the rooftop, my sister is having a wonderful time. She’s never had such a spellbound audience before in her life. The excitement is getting to her; she’s leaping about now with a spray can in her hand.

  She wants a go.

  Instantly, cold with fear, I snatch the megaphone from Phil’s hand.

  ‘NO! DON’T LET HER, JEM!’

  I shouldn’t have interfered. No one tells Jem Smith what to do. Though I think, for a moment, he hesitates.

  But it’s too late. Livi is already down on her stomach and has disappeared from sight and automatically he drops to his knees to hold her legs. Her head appears above the parapet, commando style. She waves the paint can at us, milking her audience, and the crowd cheers.

  Beside me Dad yells, ‘GET BACK, LIVI! GET BACK!’ But this is her moment and nothing is going to spoil it. Mum presses her face into his chest, afraid to look, as Livi leans over the edge of the building and hangs upside down.

  I watch, afraid to breathe, as, concentrating hard, she laboriously executes a perfect-shaped heart, the right way up, with the spray can. I know, I just know, her tongue will be sticking out between her white teeth with concentration, just like it did when she was a little kid. The crowd is silent. Heads back, everyone bar Mum watches her like a hawk as, inside the heart, she painstakingly writes Sweet Livi. Her only fault ever was to love people too much.

  He’d seen Anna down there and without thinking he’d waved. His heart had flipped over when she’d waved back.

  She still loved him. She understood. Of course she did.

  No one could prevent them from loving each other, no one could tear them apart. They’d had their best moments on rooftops, like this. They were king.

  He wanted to call down to her then, to tell her this, to tell her it was going to be all right.

  But the next minute a van had pulled up and the riot squad spilt out.

  It was too late.

  That’s when he got down to business.

  CHAPTER FORTY-EIGHT

  It all happens in a flash.

  Livi finishes off with a flourish and throws her arms out in triumph, as graceful as a trapeze artist. The crowd whoops and applauds.

  You show-off! is my immediate sour thought. You’re loving every minute of this.

  She dangles upside down for a few seconds, savouring her moment of glory.

  At this point I’m actually jealous. I’m the graffiti artist, not her; I’m the one who’s been out tagging with Jem night after night! I’ve been up on that very roof with him myself, only minus the audience.

  But I never had the nerve to go over the edge like she did. So Livi hogs the limelight, as usual, and even though I know she’s going to get hell for this, part of me wishes it was me up there.

  I say something to my mother like, ‘It’s OK, Mum, you can look now.’ Mum peers upwards, terrified, her knuckles pressed against her mouth.

  Above us, Livi twists and jerks, like she’s trying to heave herself back upwards but doesn’t quite know how. She stops and hangs there for a moment, out of breath, like a crumpled balloon, and I start to feel uneasy. The crowd waits, all attention again.

  It’s obvious it’s going to be harder to get back up than she thought it would be. If she thought at all. She’s tired now.

  I can feel cold fingers of fear clutching at my throat. Beside me, Mum is stiff with tension.

  ‘Careful, Livi,’ I whisper.

  She flops about a bit and I can sense her panic, even from down here. I can hear Jem’s voice shouting instructions and suddenly she does one massive, desperate, convulsive movement, and arches her body upwards. Jem’s head and shoulders appear, his hand reaching out to grab her, and at the same time there is an almighty explosion of noise and police burst on to the roof behind them.

  And I don’t know what happens next.

  Maybe he missed her altogether.

  Maybe the noise made him jump and he let go.

  Maybe he couldn’t hang on any more and she just slipped from his grasp.

  But she’s hurtling towards us and she lands on the road. It’s all over in a second.

  As simple as that.

  End of story.

  She wanted to …

  I never meant…

  It wasn’t me …

  She wanted to!

  CHAPTER FORTY-NINE

  Where are you, Livi?

  My beautiful, blonde, bursting-with-life baby sister?

  Where have you gone?

  It’s so quiet here without you. Quiet as the grave.

  I can’t bear it.

  Though for weeks it was manic. Your smiling face was on the telly, you see. And the front page of the paper.

  So many flowers left at Wharfside. The traffic couldn’t get through. You had no idea how popular you were.

  So many cards. Hundreds of them. From family, friends, neighbours, teachers, dinner ladies, shopkeepers … People I never even knew you knew. Little kids you stopped and spoke to; old people you said hello to … They all loved you.

  Shame they waited till you were gone to say how amazing you are.

  Were.

  I can’t believe you’re dead.

  Your friends set up a Facebook page for you. They’ve called it: Livi: the brightest star. You lit up the lives of so many people, you see. I wish you could see what they’ve written. I spend hours on it, reading the comments.

  Zoe wrote: I miss your smile.

  I do too.

  Ben wrote: I loved the laughs we had together.

  I never thought about you when I dumped him. Sorry, Livi.

  Ferret wrote: You were the best.

  Bit late for that.

  Some of your teachers have jo
ined your page and said what a lovely student you were.

  Who’d have thought you had so many fans? Seems like you were everyone’s best friend.

  Even Cora’s. She wrote how she will never take off the bracelet you gave her. She added a picture of herself wearing it.

  That was my bracelet, Livi. I wondered where it had gone.

  It’s OK, I don’t mind. She can keep it.

  Everyone’s posting pictures.

  Most are recent, of you with your cropped hair and your cool clothes, arms flung round someone’s shoulders, beaming or pouting into the camera.

  Some are years old, when your hair was long, your knees were scuffed and your smile had a gap in it.

  I’d forgotten how sweet you were.

  I thought you would live for ever. Now all I’m left with is a page on a website and a folder full of cards and newspaper articles.

  I miss you, Livi.

  One day someone posted a picture of you that took my breath away. You were laughing out loud in it, your blonde head tilted back, your mouth open wide, displaying your perfect white teeth. Even with your eyes practically closed, your face sparkled with life and energy and mischief. You were glowing.

  It was you, completely you, in a way the hundreds of other posed pictures failed to be.

  And I knew. Even before I saw his name, I knew who had posted it.

  His parting gift to me.

  It was the last one he ever took of you. Up on the roof. You were having the very best time of your life.

  Minutes later, you were dead.

  Jem caused chaos wherever he went. But he never meant that to happen, Liv, not for a minute. I’m convinced of it.

  It’s my fault. All of it. For falling in love with him. And you’re the only one who could understand, because you did too.

  In the confusion Jem got away. I stared at you lying there like a broken doll and I couldn’t take it in.