Thin Air (15 page)

Just a short way away from the
housing estate, the heath fought what was no doubt a losing battle
with development. ‘It was a lot bigger when we were kids,’ Julie
explained as they drove through the labyrinthine roads of a new
estate. Eventually the houses dwindled and they came to a
cul-de-sac, where an ancient stile could be crossed to reach
Ladyhorse Common. The wind cut sharply across the open land and, in
the sky, rain-clouds gathered in the north. Bleak sunlight
illumined the bare trees, where a few last leaves clung. Other
people were walking there, with dogs and children. It was not quite
the desolate spot Jay had imagined.

Julie suggested they walk over
to the edge of the woods. ‘People don’t go there as much,’ she
said.

‘Why’s that?’ Jay imagined some
ghoulish yet romantic legend was involved.

‘You never know who’s wandering
about,’ Julie answered darkly.

‘Is this where you used to
play?’ Jay asked.

Julie nodded. ‘There were pools
here, but further back, where the houses are now.’ She raised a
hand to point to the distant line of trees. ‘If we go that way,
we’ll get to the real heath, not this bit.’

In this place, the Dex Jay had
never known had grown up. The thought excited yet saddened her. She
was beginning to see children in terms of doomed creatures, unaware
of the terrible futures that awaited them. ‘We had a forest near
where I grew up,’ she said. ‘I went back there a few years ago, and
found that most of it had gone. What was left seemed smaller
somehow. I mean the trees weren’t so tall, and the little stream I
used to play in, that seemed so overhung and magical, seemed hardly
more than a drain.’

‘Things change,’ Julie said,
shaking her head as if wanting stronger words to express
herself.

‘Being a child is such a shining
gift, yet we don’t know how precious it is until it’s worn out and
gone away.’ Jay sighed.

‘I wish I could give my kids
more,’ Julie said.

Jay was moved to touch the other
woman’s arm. ‘I’m not a mother, but all I can say is that letting
someone have the freedom to be themselves is the biggest thing you
can give anyone. Think about Dex... about Chris.’

Julie glanced at her sidelong.
‘I know you mean well, love, but it takes more than that, it really
does. Here, let’s go this way.’

They left the open land and took
a path through the trees. Here, the wind was silenced and stilled,
and it was as if they’d stepped into another country. Autumn’s
disrobing of the forest had revealed the old drinks cans and crisp
wrappers discarded in the undergrowth, but still the trees had a
certain presence. Julie led the way, her scuffed trainers kicking
through the damp, rustling leaves. Her shoulders were hunched; she
was silent amid her own thoughts. Jay wished she had a camera with
her. In her mind, she imagined the article she could write about
this visit, the stark contrast of Dex’s life with his humble
beginnings.

She jumped backwards as a young
boy hurtled onto the path from between the trees. He paused for a
moment to stare at Jay with dark, almost predatory, eyes. She took
in his grubby face, his ragged jumper and holey jeans. Then he was
gone, out of the wood the way they’d come. Jay felt strangely out
of breath and reached out to a gnarled tree trunk for support.

‘Jay!’

When she looked up, Julie was at
least fifty yards down the path ahead of her. ‘What’s up?’ she
called, beginning to walk back.

‘Kid spooked me,’ Jay said.
‘Damn near knocked me over.’

Julie frowned. The forest was
soundless around them.

‘Kid,’ said Jay lamely, looking
in the direction the boy had taken.

Julie could have said something,
perhaps, but she didn’t. She smiled tightly and started to walk
again. ‘This way, come on.’

The trees became thicker, the
path heading downhill. Ahead, it veered sharply upwards again. Jay
was panting with exertion by the time they reached the top. Here,
ancient beech trees formed an almost perfect circle around a
depression in the crown of the hill. Children had made swings on
two of the bigger branches with nylon rope and thick sticks,
polished to a dull lustre by numerous young thighs. Julie clambered
up onto one of the makeshift seats, her legs clutching the rope.
She pushed herself out over the steep side of the hill, swinging in
a wide, dizzying arc.

Jay felt anxious. The branch
creaked; the only sound. She sat down on the springy, damp earth. A
strange weight pressed down upon her; she felt slightly
disorientated and dizzy. The trees were too immense, too close. In
this place, they still dreamed of lost centuries. Humans scurrying
between the lichened trunks could be no more than ants to these
leviathans of the forest. There was a presence: that was it. Jay
felt breathless and uncomfortable, observed.

Julie jumped back to earth.
‘There’s always been swings here,’ she said, her face flushed. ‘We
used to spend hours here.’

‘Doesn’t look like the
tradition’s faltered,’ Jay said, pulling her cigarettes from her
jacket pocket, lit up. Why did she feel so unsafe?

Julie accepted a cigarette from
Jay, and leaned back against one of the trees, inhaling deeply. She
looked younger somehow, released. ‘Chris and Peter would come here
all the time in summer,’ she said. ‘Close your eyes.’

‘Why?’

‘Just do it,’ Julie said. Her
own were closed already. Jay couldn’t bring herself to do it, but
watched the other woman. ‘If you concentrate, you can almost hear
the kids playing.’

Jay took a nervous draw off her
cigarette. Ahead of her, one of the swings twisted on its blue,
ragged rope. She shuddered. She didn’t want to hear anything. ‘I
don’t believe in ghosts,’ she said crassly, standing up. For a
moment, the world dipped around her, the crowns of the trees spun
against the sky.

Julie’s eyes snapped open. She
looked reproachful, perhaps even disappointed.

‘Sorry,’ Jay said. ‘I don’t feel
comfortable here.’ She realised her words almost contradicted her
previous statement, but Julie just shrugged.

‘You wanted to see,’ she said.
‘So I’ve shown you.’

‘Shown me what?’ Jay’s
discomfort was spilling over into irritation. A headache was
starting, somewhere deep behind her eyes.

Julie stared at her steadily.
‘You’re a strange one,’ she said. ‘I thought you’d know.’

Jay couldn’t be bothered to play
games. ‘Know what? Do you see ghosts here, Julie? Is that it? Do
you know more about Dex and the past than you’re letting on? Why
don’t you just tell me straight?’

Julie looked puzzled and
slightly wounded. ‘I can’t tell you anything,’ she said in a low
voice. ‘You can only see for yourself.’

‘There’s nothing to see,’ Jay
said in a softer tone. ‘These are your memories, Julie, not mine. I
can only hear your tales.’

Julie sighed and nodded. She
looked disappointed, as if she’d believe Jay would be a conspirator
in her fantasy. ‘Not everyone’s the same,’ she said.

Jay just wanted to get away from
the place. ‘Let’s go now,’ she said, smiling apologetically. ‘I
could do with a drink.’

‘Yeah, me too.’ Julie pushed
herself away from the tree trunk. ‘It’s not a great day for it, is
it?’

‘Perhaps we can talk later,’ Jay
said. ‘Thanks for bringing me here, Julie.’

‘’S’OK.’

Jay’s spine tingled as they made
the precarious descent down the slippery path. She could hear the
branches creaking behind her, but no more; no laughter, no
cries.

Before a pub lunch, Jay insisted
on driving to the nearest big super-market store, where she could
repay Julie’s hospitality by stocking up on a few essentials.
‘You’ve been kind enough to put me up, and I don’t want to eat you
out of house and home.’

‘That’s not likely, love,’ Julie
said. Jay could tell she didn’t know whether to feel angry, annoyed
or grateful for her guest’s largesse, but in the end obviously
decided just to go along with it. Her perusal of the well-stocked
shelves reminded Jay of a kid in a toy store. Julie would not shop
in places like this. Hers would be the cut-price store on the
estate, where choice was narrow. She ogled the bright vegetable
produce; carrots that were too orange, cauliflowers almost too
plump; irradiated produce that would stay fresh for a week. Jay
dumped three different nets of fresh fruit in the trolley and Julie
just cast her sidelong glances; aghast and almost despising. She
bought two loaves of bread, warm from the oven, six different
cheeses, olives, avocado. If this was a girls’ night in, she wanted
her favourite nibbles to hand. ‘What’s your favourite?’ she asked
Julie, and when Julie offered ‘pickles,’ Jay dumped jars of spiced
onions, red cabbage and gherkins into the trolley.

‘Planning on feeding an army?’
Julie asked. ‘And is this going on expenses as well?’

‘We’ll eat early so Kylie can
have some take-away,’ Jay said. ‘This little lot is for later.’ She
added a bottle of gin, some tonic water, and two bottles of wine to
their haul.

‘We’ll be sick,’ Julie said, her
eyes taking on a feverish gleam as she caught Jay’s
shopping-lust.

‘So what?’ Jay answered.

At the check-out, Julie made a
disapproving sound at the cost of Jay’s purchases. Jay ignored it
and flashed her gold card at the cashier. She would not let herself
feel guilty.

After the shopping expedition,
Jay drove to a pub she’d noticed on the way that offered lunches.
She was not surprised when Julie protested. ‘We’ve got all that
nosh for tonight,’ she said. ‘I can’t eat that much.’

‘Then have a liquid lunch,’ Jay
said. ‘This is my treat, Julie. I want to do it.’

‘I can see that.’ She paused.
‘Don’t forget about the birds in winter.’

Jay stopped the car in the car
park. ‘What?’

Julie turned sideways in the
passenger seat. ‘It’s what I always used to say to Chris, whenever
he came up - which wasn’t often, not after he’d left us. He’d start
flashing his money about and I’d remind him about people who put
food out for the birds. They don’t think about how they’ll not be
living in their house forever, and what happens to the birds who’re
relying on them when they’re gone? They have to go back to pecking
at the hard ground. It’s nice, Jay, all this giving, but it’s not
really fair.’

Jay felt herself blushing.
‘Perhaps there shouldn’t have been a winter for you,’ she said,
slightly defensively.

‘You don’t have to put the food
out in the garden of his house,’ Julie said quietly. ‘I knew Chris
better than anybody, and he knew me as well. There’s nothing to
make amends for. You don’t have to.’

‘I know, I know,’ Jay said. She
closed her eyes briefly. ‘I’m sorry, Julie. I’m not doing this very
well.’

‘That’s OK,’ Julie said. She
opened her car door. ‘Let’s just go for a drink, shall we?’

Julie went up to the bar to
order while Jay took a seat in a bay window. It occurred to her
that Dex might have come to see Julie while he’d been living with
her in London. He’d never mentioned it. Why had he kept his family
so apart from his life? Why had Julie never come down to London, or
been invited to gigs? Jay imagined Julie’s children in her London
flat; Kylie drawing at the breakfast bar in the kitchen, Melanie
rosy and blooming in colourful infant clothes, scrabbling around on
the rug with Early Learning Centre toys. Dex could have given his
family so much, but had chosen not to. It seemed absurd, given that
he was supposed to have been so fond of his sister, but perhaps she
didn’t know him as well as she thought she did.

Julie came back with gin and
tonics. Jay thought of the groceries in the boot of her car. At
least now Julie could probably afford these drinks. ‘I think you’re
a bit scared,’ Julie said.

Jay took a sip of gin, rolling
the flavour round her mouth. ‘Scared?’

‘You weren’t happy out there in
the woods, were you?’

Jay twisted her mouth to one
side. ‘Not sure. It seemed close, that’s all, almost
claustrophobic. I’m a city girl, remember. The wilderness is a
scary place to me.’

‘No, you were afraid to open
up.’

Jay leaned forward. ‘What do you
mean?’

Julie laughed, too loudly. ‘Oh,
I’m a bit weird sometimes,’ she said. ‘I feel things, but I s’pose
most women can. I can always feel Chris around when I’m in the
woods.’

‘Yet you say he’s not dead.’ Jay
paused briefly, then plunged on. ‘How does he speak to you, Julie?
Does it happen when you’re in places like the wood?’

Julie shook her head. ‘Not
always. It can happen anywhere. We’re so close, see. It’s always
been like this. If he took a tumble, I’d feel it, like a slap in
the face.’

‘You do realise what Dex was
like before he disappeared, don’t you?’

‘A handful,’ Julie said.

Jay laughed. ‘Ye-ess, you could
say that. Did you feel any of the things that happened to him then,
like when he was angry or depressed?’

‘I’d pick up a whiff of a mood
now and again,’ Julie said. ‘I expect you had to cope with a lot.’
She was edging away from the subject.

‘Dex was never a problem for
me,’ Jay said. ‘What does he say to you, Julie? What does he say
now?’

‘It’s not words,’ Julie said.
‘Pictures more like, or feelings. He knows you’re with me.’

Jay shivered. She could not
doubt Julie’s words. The atmosphere in the pub had become thick as
fog. The diners and drinkers were like figures in a photograph.
‘What else?’ she murmured.

‘Nothing,’ Julie said. ‘I’ll
need some time, Jay. You’ll have to be patient.’

Jay switched to fruit juice,
while Julie drank a couple more gins. ‘The world we see is a
puzzle,’ she said, ‘but there
is
more to everything than
what we see.’

‘Is there? In what way?’