Girl Seven (30 page)

I sat up on my elbows also and rubbed his arm.

‘But I feel OK,’ he said, nodding. ‘I didn’t ask for a divorce to... finally
make
her leave me, I asked because I couldn’t keep doing this fucking tragic dance any more. She’s here, she’s not, she’s here, she’s not... It was rough... for both of us. She would never ask though. She’s too kind.’

So it wasn’t because of me. It wasn’t because of what happened going into the lift. That confirmation brought me a little relief.

‘What about work?’ I asked, lying back down again.

‘Oh, Nic called with some good news.’ He turned on to his side to face me. ‘Some good news. He hasn’t got it totally sorted but... I don’t think we’re going to be seeing much trouble any more. He’s great, so fucking worth the money. You ever met him?’

‘No,’ I lied. ‘Never. I’ve seen him pick Daisy up a few times.’

‘He’s a funny guy. Really... weird. Him and Daisy are a really fucking weird couple of people.’

‘Yeah, I think Daisy’s been to a few too many acid raves in her life.’

He laughed, childlike. ‘Remember that time she came running in and said that John Lennon had been shot?’

‘Haha, yeah, fuck that was funny... And you said—’

‘Yeah, I said
that was a long time ago, Daisy
.’ He shook his head. ‘And then she said it must have been Elton John cos she heard it on the radio, but there was nothing. I still don’t know what the fuck she thought she heard, sometimes I think she’s just fucking...
hallucinating
.’

I let the smile linger and then fade from my face.

‘Do you want a coffee?’ I asked, glancing at his clock.

It was nine-thirty, at least three hours before Noel liked to get up.

‘Yeah, if you’re up.’ He rolled over and shut his eyes, flushed and oblivious.

I got out of bed and put on my underwear to go and put the kettle on. Then I went into the bathroom and locked the door. Once inside I stood and stopped myself from hyperventilating. It was almost too much to be near him, thinking that at any moment he would get a call or there would be a knock at the door... I had slept, but not well. I never slept well any more. That was my punishment.

Shaking myself out, I pushed myself into action and I opened his bathroom cabinet to see a line of pill boxes.

There were mood stabilizers, anti-depressants, contra­ceptives and sleeping pills. I took out a few more sleeping pills than the recommended dose and took them with me into the kitchen, checking Noel was still in bed. It wouldn’t be enough to harm him, just knock him out for a while. He’d probably feel nauseous when he awoke but that was it.

I mashed them up in one of the fancy pestle and mortars that I’d never found any other use for in Noel’s overly glamorous kitchen.

When the kettle stopped boiling I mixed them into his coffee, gave it a few minutes to calm down and then brought it back through to the bedroom.

‘Hey, you not having anything?’ He sat up against the headboard to take the mug from me and instantly gulped down half of it.

‘You know I don’t drink anything you have.’

‘You’re so straightedge.’ He raised his eyebrows at me and almost entirely finished the coffee.

I got back into bed, cuddled up to him and waited, tense and watching the clock.

Noel looked down at me and gave me a nudge.

‘You’re lovely,’ he said, with genuine warmth. ‘I know you’re like super tough and that’s what you want people to think of you and everything. But I think you’re lovely.’

I hugged him tighter. I couldn’t say anything.

You’re a piece of shit, I thought, hating myself. You’re the worst kind of person.

I lay there for what felt like years, willing him to fall asleep, when he finally put the mug down by the side of the bed and lay down next to me.

‘You still tired?’ I asked, my voice so quiet it barely rippled the silence.

‘Hm...’ He rubbed his eyes but didn’t open them. ‘Thought coffee was meant to... Hm.’

That was the last thing I heard him say to me.

I waited for ten more minutes before sitting up and out of his embrace.

Tears welled up in my eyes as I turned away and sat on the edge of the bed putting my clothes back on. I checked for the umpteenth time that I still had my passport and stood up. I looked back once, from the bedroom doorway, and he was peaceful. I’d never had to see his fury or his hatred in person. At least the last memory I had would be a good one.

I went into the kitchen and couldn’t find any paper so I sat at the table and wrote a letter on the back of a brown A4 envelope.

Dear Noel,

This is a confession.

I wanted you to know that I have betrayed and stolen from you and even killed, and for that I will never forgive myself. I never wanted things to go this far. I hope you can believe that I never ever would have hurt you.

I’m sorry. I couldn’t be more sorry.

Seven

Then I started crying, on my own in the middle of his silent and pristine flat. I wanted to go back and look at him, one last time, but I couldn’t bring myself to do it. I stood up, hot tears running down my face and into my hands and on to the brown A4 envelope with my confession on it. When I thought I’d finally stopped I just cried some more; the sort of crying that made it hard to breathe or even think, the sort of crying that felt like a coma I was never going to wake up from.

Nothing, not the money or my flight or my passport, could make me feel hope or relief. It wasn’t worth it, I realized. It didn’t feel worth it now that I’d fucked over one of the only people I knew alive that had cared for me properly; cared for me in a way that was almost pure and untarnished and true.

Hunched over my knees, I sobbed until I felt I didn’t have the strength to walk.

But I knew I had to walk so, weak and trembling, I left.

I left the taxi and crossed the street towards the Underground, my convictions gone. I wanted to hand myself in, give up, but I’d come too far now. I couldn’t spend the rest of my life thinking about Noel, because I was going home, because Seiko would know I was thinking about someone else.

The back door was unlocked, which was surprising. I assumed that Daisy had forgotten to lock up properly the night before and let myself in.

I went straight into the dressing rooms and put on one of Coralie’s fur-rimmed parkas that she always left overnight. There wasn’t any extra cash in the dressing tables; just make-up, make-up remover and pieces of cheap costume jewellery. I took a string of fake pearls, for the hell of it.

My reflection was a state, pale and dishevelled and scared, so I covered the cuts and bruises as best I could with the stupid chiffon scarf and brushed my hair. My eyes were blank. I’d never seen them so clear.

Everything I needed was standing out to me, as if in high definition. My breathing was shallow and fast, but I wasn’t trembling any more.

‘Move,’ I said aloud to myself. ‘Money. Get the money.’

I fumbled with the key to my locker and felt for my passport in my pocket for the third time. It was still there. I opened the locker and the bag of money wasn’t in it. I slammed the door shut and opened it again, in case it had reappeared. But it hadn’t. Of course it hadn’t. It was gone.

‘Fuck!’ I kicked out, starting to panic. ‘
Fuck!
’

Daisy. It had to have been fucking Daisy...

I stormed into the main club and found Daisy’s key behind the bar. My throat was aching so I drank some water straight from the tap. The cash float was already in the till and I pocketed that, but it wasn’t nearly enough. I wondered if I had the time to try and break into the secure box in Ronnie’s office where the profits were dropped.

‘So what are you doing?’

I looked up and Daisy was standing the other side of the club floor, in the doorway leading to the stairwell. I should have known. The lights had been turned on and the cash float was in.

My bag was by her feet, just inside the doorway.

Silence.

‘... You’re early,’ I said.

‘No, it’s eleven. I’m late.’

It had taken me longer to leave Noel’s than I’d thought.

I shut the till. ‘Look, it’s not—’

‘It’s not what it looks like?’ She took a step towards me, eyes narrowed.

‘No, it is. It is what it looks like but I’ve got to go, OK?’ I walked slowly to the end of the bar with an eye on the bag and then the exit steps.

‘No, not OK. Why? Where’s Noel? Why do you have the national
deficit
in your locker and why did you have one of Nic’s sketches in your fucking pocket? What’s going on?’ She took a gun from behind her back and pointed it at me. ‘Hey! Stop moving!’

I froze and put both hands up above my head. ‘So... Nic’s letting you carry now?’

‘No, hearing someone sneaking around this early I thought we’d been broken into so I took Ron’s. What the fuck did you think I was going to do?’ She indicated her head at me, with this hard look on her face. ‘So, what’s going on?’

‘Look...’ My hands dropped to my sides. All I could think about was getting out. ‘I did some really stupid things. I’m not proud of it. It makes me feel like shit but I
had
to do them and now... if I don’t go then they... not just them, fucking
everyone
... they’re going to come after me and I don’t have my bag or my wallet or
anything
, OK, I just have that bag! So I came here.’

The gun didn’t relax for a second.

‘Come on, Daisy,’ I said, swallowing. ‘We’re friends, right? I don’t really have many... Why would I lie to you?’

‘I don’t know. What do you mean by...?’ An expression of realization and horror came over her face. ‘It was you. It was you, wasn’t it? You were the one setting up these raids, you were...
Fuck!
You! Fuck, Noel was even talking to me about suspecting
Ronnie
of being up to something and all the time it was fucking
you
!’

She knew more than I thought. Apparently I wasn’t the only person Noel was close to.

‘It’s not like that!’

‘Oh really, well how the fuck was it?’

She took a few more steps towards me, until she was pretty close. I didn’t know how good a shot she was, but with a boyfriend like Nic Caruana I doubted she was going to miss me from where she was standing.

‘How was it, fucking everyone over?’ she snapped.

I was shocked by how her reaction, her disappointment, gutted me.

‘You don’t understand, I didn’t have a fucking choice!’ I cried. ‘You think I was doing it for fun? You think I would have done it if these Russians weren’t going to just kill me if I said no? If I said I didn’t want to help them any more? What was I
meant
to do, Daisy?’

‘You could have told someone, you idiot bitch! You could have told Noel, or Ronnie, or you could have told me! That’s how friends fucking
work
– you tell them things! I could have helped you, I could have...
Nic
could have done something, or Mark! Isn’t that obvious?’

It felt obvious, the way she said it. But none of them could have helped me really, not when it was all my fault, not when I’d been the one to start all of this in a moment of stupid immature opportunism.

I didn’t have anything to say.

‘I’m...’

‘If you say you’re sorry I’ll shoot you.’ She shook her head. ‘Jesus... All this time and Noel was doing his fucking head in, drinking and drinking and it was you. It was fucking
you
.
Fuck!
’

‘I fucked up, OK,’ I said, spreading my hands. ‘If you don’t want to hear me say sorry, then that’s it. I never wanted to hurt anyone. I never would have hurt Noel or Ron... ever.’

She ran a hand through her hair and glanced back at the bag. ‘You know I’ve got to tell them, right?’

‘Daisy... I’ve got to go.’

‘You’re not going.’

I looked at the steps. ‘I’ve got to go.’

‘Don’t be fucking dense.’

I took a step. ‘Look—’

‘STOP!’ she screamed.

I swiped an open bottle of whiskey from the bar and threw it at her.

Daisy fired a shot into the ceiling as she blocked it and it landed at her feet. I knew I wouldn’t make it to the door or the bag so I ran for the gun instead, catching her around the waist and sending us both crashing to the floor into the pool of whiskey.

She was much stronger than I’d anticipated and I paid for the misjudgement. My face hit the ground as she grabbed a fistful of my hair and slammed my head down. She stood up, kicked me in the ribs and pointed the gun as I sat up on to my knees, stunned.

‘
Bitch
,’ she hissed, flicking her hair out of her eyes.

I got up, slowly, having twisted my ankle on the way down.

‘Fine,’ I said, exhausted and in fresh agony. ‘Fine.’

‘Fuck, Seven, why?
Why
did you fucking do all this? I mean, this is... whack.’

‘If you’re going to shoot me, Daisy, then go right on ahead.’ I sighed, resigned, just waiting for her to call Ronnie and make it all end. ‘You know, all I wanted to do was go home. I thought if I did this... I could go home. That’s why I did everything, OK? That’s why I killed people, that’s why I did what the Russians told me, that’s why I did this for money, that’s why... I didn’t
choose
to work here, you know! It’s not like I even wanted to do this and get passed from guy to guy like a fucking second-hand book!’

‘Well, I know life hasn’t exactly taken you out for fucking dinner and made an honest lady of you but—’

‘Yeah, no shit! Come back to me when you’ve had
everything
taken from you! You lose your whole fucking family and you don’t know why, you come and work here where losers come to throw money at you and all the time you
still
don’t know why your family were hacked to death by a couple of thugs with machetes! Come back to me and tell me how
unfair
life is when that happens to you!’

I brushed whiskey off the coat.

‘Well, go on,’ I said, tired of fighting with her, tired of the whole fucking situation. I was starting to feel lightheaded. ‘Call Ronnie. I’m right here. It might even be a relief, to be honest.’