The Chaos (21 page)

‘Lavender,’ she says, ‘of course, but also dark blue. And all bathed in pink.’

‘Nan,’ Adam says, ‘don’t start.’

‘What? What is it?’

‘It’s your aura,’ he says with a sigh.

‘My what?’

‘Your cosmic energies,’ says Val. ‘Bright pink, sensitive
and artistic. Lavender, a visionary, a dreamer of dreams. Dark blue, full of fear.’

I feel suddenly naked. Here’s this woman, this strange, shrivelled-up woman, with hair three shades too bright for her, and she knows me.

‘I’m right.’

It’s a statement, not a question. 

‘Yeah,’ I breathe, ‘you’re right.’

‘Sarah,’ she says, and I hold my breath, wondering what’s coming next.

‘Yes?’

‘You’re welcome here. You’re welcome in this house.’ And now I feel surrounded, wrapped up, a comfort blanket over my shoulders. I can’t explain – it’s not just relief, although I am relieved – there’s something physical in the room, a warmth that feels like light and heat together. If you could bottle it, you’d make a fortune, and the label on the outside could read comfort or love or home. Yeah, I’d call it home. Not the one I came from, but the one everyone should have, in a perfect world. The place where you can be yourself, where you feel safe. I feel like crying, as if it would be okay to cry here, but I bite my lip. I’ve done enough crying in the last few days, and seen enough come to that. It’s time to stop the tears.

‘Thank you,’ I say. Then, ‘I’ll go and put these clothes on.’

I give Mia back to Adam. She digs in a bit when she realises I’m handing her over, then she sees that it’s him and relaxes, going to him willingly. The way she’s taken to him is weird. She’s never been like that with other people. She’s shy, cautious. Perhaps my dream was only a means to an end. We were meant to meet Adam, and this is how it came about.
He found the painting and then I found him. Is that it? Is that all it is? Is there a happy-ever-after waiting for us, instead of a nightmare?

Upstairs, I put on the T-shirt and joggers. As I pass the shirt over my head, I pause and sniff the material. It’s his shirt. Adam’s. I want it to smell of him, that slight sharpness, and it does, very faintly. I pull it down over my body. The thought of his smell on my skin makes me tingle in the places the shirt touches.

Later we drink tea and watch a bit of telly, and fuss over Mia. No-one talks about death dates or nightmares or auras. Instead, Adam teases his nan gently and she tells him to ‘sod off’, but it’s all said with a smile and a twinkle in the eye. These two love each other. They might not know it, but there’s love in this tiny, messy, run-down house.

The news comes on and we all fall silent for a while. It’s the usual stuff: floods, famine, war. Japan’s in trouble – there are three volcanoes threatening to erupt at once. A mass evacuation is under way. In London there’s a big protest in Grosvenor Square against American threats of war against Iran. We all know Iran’s nuclear. How fucking stupid would the president have to be to pick on them? Didn’t she learn anything from Iraq, Afghanistan, North Korea? Right at the end they report on the earth tremor Adam felt in Oxford Street. It’s a light-hearted item, you know ‘And finally …’ with a bit of footage from someone’s mobile phone and some interviews with people who were there.

A crappy sitcom comes on after the news. We all sit looking at the screen, but none of us are watching.

‘I think it’s going to be an earthquake, Nan,’ Adam says. ‘Or it could be a bomb, a series of bombs.’

‘The Japanese get it, don’t they?’ she says. ‘They’re not messing about.’

‘Well, they have got volcanoes, they’d be mad not to evacuate, wouldn’t they?’

‘Yeah, but we’ve got you. We’ve got you telling us about it. People should listen. They should start getting out now.’

‘It’s not the same, is it? I was thinking about how to tell people, how to get publicity. Maybe a banner, climb up the Gherkin or Tower Bridge or something.’

‘Like my painting,’ I say. ‘No-one’ll pay any attention. They’ll just think you’re a nutter. You need to get on the street screens. How many are there? A thousand? More? They’re official, aren’t they? People will take notice of them. You need to hack in.’

‘Oh my God, you’re right. If the council or the government won’t do it, I’ll have to. I’ll have to hijack their screens.’

‘Do you know how?’

‘No, but I know a man who can.’

He’s excited now, feet tapping on the floor, eyes shining. 

‘I’ll try ringing him.’

I leave him to it. Mia’s ready for bed and so am I. Adam’s given me his room, says he’ll kip on the sofa. I’m embarrassed, but he insists. I give Mia her bedtime feed and then put her down in a drawer on the floor, just like in the squat. I switch off the light and try closing my eyes. I wonder where Vinny is now. Adam said he saw him being led away. The thought of him lying in a cell somewhere makes me want to scream. He doesn’t deserve that, not Vinny.

I think of the rain and the wind, of taking refuge in the tunnel. And I think of Adam, how we keep being drawn back together. And now I’m here, in his room. I told myself I’d keep away from him, but I’ve done the complete
opposite. But it’s not the New Year, not yet, so tonight I’m going to enjoy being warm and safe, and I’m going to sleep as long as Mia will let me.

Chapter 47: Adam

I
 hear her screaming through my sleep. It cuts into my dreams and drags me up to the surface. It’s a dreadful sound, tears at my heart. I know it’s Sarah before I’m fully awake. I shove the blankets back and sprint up the stairs to my room and knock quietly on the door. She don’t hear me – she’s making too much noise herself.

I open the door and go in. Sarah’s in my bed, sitting bolt upright with both arms out in front of her. Her eyes are open, and she’s shouting Mia’s name over and over again. Mia’s in a drawer on the floor and, amazingly, she’s still asleep.

‘It’s all right, Sarah,’ I say, from the doorway. ‘Mia’s here. She’s okay.’

She don’t turn to look at me, but she’s heard me.

‘No!’ she insists. ‘She’s in there. She’s there on her own. Help me. Help me!’ She starts sobbing. Her eyes might be open but she’s not awake – she’s deep inside her nightmare.

I walk over to the bed and sit down on the edge of the
mattress. I touch Sarah’s arm gently.

‘Sarah,’ I say. ‘It’s a dream, only a dream. You need to wake up.’

She’s still sobbing.

‘Sarah,’ I say, more loudly this time, ‘wake up. Wake up now. It’s just a dream.’ I grip her arm more firmly and give it a little shake.

She turns her face then, and gasps.

‘No,’ she says. ‘No, not you!’

‘Sarah, you’re at my house, everything’s okay.’

‘Adam?’ she whispers, and she screws up her eyes, like she’s struggling to tell if she’s awake or still in her dream.

‘It’s me, Sarah. You’re here with me. You had a bad dream, but you’re safe now. Everything’s all right.’

Her hands flop down onto the bed.

‘Was I shouting?’

Only loud enough to wake the dead.
 

‘Yeah, a little bit.’

‘I used to wake Vin up too,’ she sighs. ‘In the end he got used to it.’

‘You were shouting that she was “in there”, the baby. Where are you in your dream?’

‘I dunno. Some sort of building, a house, but it’s collapsing and there are flames and …’ She starts breathing heavily.

‘Shh … it’s all right. Don’t think about it now. It’s all right.’

‘I’m so tired, Adam. So tired, but if I close my eyes, it’ll all come back again.’

I shuffle up the bed a bit, but I don’t touch her. I’m just there, if she wants me.

‘No it won’t,’ I say. ‘You’ll be okay.’

‘Will you stay here with me? Wake me up if I start again?’

I’ll stay with you for ever. I’d swim the Channel for you. I’d walk on broken glass.

‘Yeah, course. Here,’ I say, ‘shift over a bit.’

I’m next to her now, and she leans her head on me in that place between my shoulder and my chest.

I see her eyelashes dip and she closes her eyes. It’s not long before she’s asleep, but I stay awake for ages, watching over her. I’m drinking her in: the weight of her, her sweet smell, the way her body moves gently against mine as she breathes in and out. I want to remember how this feels, how I feel, every detail. I don’t want to forget a thing.

I must have drifted off, though, because before I know it I’m waking up. Sarah’s still there. She’s tilted her head and she’s looking up at me. She smiles.

‘Hello,’ she whispers.

‘Hello, Sarah.’

I’ve got another hard-on, and the warmth of her, her closeness, it’s almost too much to bear. 

‘Had a nice sleep?’ I ask.

‘Yeah.’ She’s relaxed, happier than I’ve ever seen her before. ‘Thank you,’ she says, ‘for being here.’

We haven’t stopped eye contact since I woke up. It’s a peaceful thing, intense and intimate, beautiful. Her eyes flick down to my mouth and back to my eyes. She’s thinking about it, I know she is, and suddenly so am I and I think,
It’s now or never. Now.
And I bend forward just a little and I kiss her.

Her mouth is so soft. Half of mine is stiff with scar tissue, but hers is soft all over. Her lips are closed to start with. She lets me kiss her – she don’t kiss me back – but then she makes this tiny noise, halfway between a grunt and a sigh,
and she closes her eyes and opens her mouth, and her lips are pressing back against mine, and I know she wants me as much as I want her.

Her breath is stale from sleep, but I don’t mind. I taste her on my tongue, and I can’t get enough.

She puts her hand round the back of my neck, caressing me. Still kissing we move so that she’s more underneath me. I run my hand down her arm, and then across. Her nipples are hard through the soft material of the T-shirt, and wet. I realise with a shock that she must be leaking milk. Her tits aren’t soft, like I expected. They’re hard, too, and warm, almost hot.

‘Careful,’ she says. ‘They’re sore.’ I move my hand away quickly, but she puts her hand on mine and places it back on her breast. ‘It’s okay, but gently.’

We kiss again. She moves her hands under my T-shirt and runs them over my ribs and my back, exploring me with her fingertips.

I match her moves, feeling under her clothes, up around her back and down around the curve of her bum. She’s stopped moving now, her muscles are tense, but I want more, I need to find out about every bit of her. I slide my hand round her thigh … and she twitches violently, trying to throw my hand off.

‘No!’ she says, and it’s loud and there’s an edge of panic in her voice.

‘Sarah, I thought you wanted …’

She shoves me away from her.

‘No, not that. I’m sorry. I thought I could, but I can’t.’ 

I don’t understand what’s changed. She wanted me. She put my hands on her body. 

‘Sarah …?’

‘No! Leave it! I can’t. I don’t want to. Not with you. Not with …’

I stand up and back away.

‘I get it,’ I say. ‘I’m disgusting. I’m the Elephant Man. Of course you wouldn’t want to do it with me.’

Mia’s woken up now and starts to cry. I stumble to the door. Behind me, I can hear Sarah, ‘No, Adam, it’s not that. Adam …’ But I don’t want to hear her excuses. I was stupid to think that anything could happen between us. Stupid to think it could ever happen with anyone.

I blunder out of the room and head for the stairs. Nan’s standing in the doorway of her room, her hair all tousled and her eyes not quite open properly. She raises her eyebrows at me.

‘Adam?’ she says. ‘What the …’

‘Just don’t ask. Not now, Nan. Not ever, all right?’

Chapter 48: Sarah

I
 can’t do it. I thought I could. I thought I wanted to, but I can’t. I don’t know if I ever will. I know Adam’s different. He likes me, he really does and I like him, but that feeling of his weight on top of me, his hands running over my skin, freaks me out. It’s not logical, it doesn’t come from my mind, which is wanting him, excited to be with him. It’s programmed into my body, as if that reacts all on its own, separate from anything else.

It’s been a long time since my body felt like mine. At home, for years, it belonged to Him. He could have me, take me, whenever He wanted to. Now, it belongs to Mia. Magically, my body has done what it’s needed to do to grow her, and give birth to her and feed her. I didn’t know I could do this, but it happened. My body knew.

Sometime, one day, my body will be mine again. But who knows when that’ll be, or who I’ll be or how I’ll feel. And in the meantime Adam storms off. He calls himself the Elephant Man. He thinks he’s repulsive, but it’s not that. It’s
not that at all.
It’s not you, it’s me.
Oh God, it’s such a cliché, but it’s true. I never meant to hurt him. Now what will he think about me – bitch, cow, cock-teaser?

‘Looks as if we’re out of here,’ I say to Mia. ‘Messed that up, didn’t I?’

I pack our things up before going downstairs. Adam’s on the couch, curled up, eyes tight shut. The telly’s on, but he’s not watching. Val’s in the kitchen, perched on a stool and the room’s thick with smoke. I stop in the doorway. Too smoky for Mia in there, too full of Adam in the lounge. There’s nowhere for us to go – we’d better just leave.

‘I’ll just put her in the buggy,’ I say, ‘and fetch the rest of our things.’

‘Why? Where are you going?’ Val stubs out her cigarette. ‘It was very kind of you to let us stay, but we should go and find somewhere else now.’

‘You got somewhere, have you?’ She looks at me, intently. 

‘Yes, I’ve got a couple of places I can try,’ I lie. I don’t want anyone feeling sorry for me or obliged or anything. I just want to go – I shouldn’t have come here in the first place. We’ll head out of London, and if we get picked up, well, I’ll just have to deal with it.

I walk over to the buggy and try to lie Mia down, but she’s not tired. She lets out a scream of temper. 

‘Please, Mia. Just lie down. I don’t need this.’ 

She carries on screaming, but I strap her in and head upstairs for our bags. When I come down again, Val’s standing by Mia, cooing at her. It’s not helping.