Blood Rush (Lilly Valentine) (8 page)

‘And don’t bring those friends of yours again,’ Gran orders. ‘They are not nice girls.’

Demi realizes she has no choice but to get up, so she swings her legs to the floor. She rubs her big toe against the spot where her rug is wearing through. The strings of matting that poke through are rough to the touch.

A year ago, one of her classmates had a birthday party and everyone was invited, even Demi. The carpet in the girl’s bedroom was creamy coloured and as thick as Demi’s thumb. While the other girls danced to the CD player, Demi watched their feet
disappear
into the soft pile. Gran suggested Demi ask the girl over for tea, but she didn’t.

Demi hovers for a second, listening intently. She can hear Gran plod down the corridor to the bathroom. A moment later comes the flush of the toilet and the whoosh of water running down the pipes. She imagines Gran washing her lined hands. The water is so icy in the mornings that it stings, but that won’t stop Gran from rubbing soap between every finger, before a thorough rinse.

At last she hears more steps, then the tell-tale thud of the front door. Gran has left and Demi is alone. She waits another second, to be sure, then pulls the quilt back on to the bed and enjoys the warmth and the silence.

School is for losers. Everybody knows that.

It was unbelievable how something as small as a baby could make so much noise. In better circumstances Lilly might have laughed.

After David and Sam left, Alice had screamed until she was completely puce and each curl on her head sodden. It was as if she’d realized that she’d been tricked by Penny’s mobile toy and needed to make up for lost time. Lilly sang to her, waggled a teddy at her, made funny faces, but to no avail. Alice was incensed and determined to make her point.

When the sobbing had subsided to mournful hiccups, Lilly had tried to at least brush her teeth, something she could do with one hand, but as soon as she reached for the tap, Alice took it as another call to arms.

‘I’ll say this for you,’ Lilly told Alice, ‘you’ve got stamina.’

She checked the time. Jack was late. He’d said he’d give Alice her breakfast, then take her to nursery.

The phone rang which seemed to increase Alice’s annoyance. She bellowed at the receiver.

Lilly had to shout above the din. ‘Hello.’

‘Christ, woman, what did you do to Alice?’ said Jack.

‘We disagreed about the best Doctor Who of all time,’ said Lilly. ‘She’s not a fan of David Tennant.’

He chuckled, but it was polite not warm. ‘I’ll get straight to the point, Lilly, I can’t get over to you today.’

Lilly felt her stomach lurch.

‘Is this because of the McKenzie case?’ she asked.

‘No. Well sort of.’

‘I know you’re mad at me for taking it on, Jack, but I’m shocked you’d let your feelings come between you and Alice.’

He paused for a second as if he was measuring his words. ‘Nothing will ever come between me and Alice.’

He let that statement hang in the air.

‘Something’s come up at work that I can’t ignore,’ he said.

‘Something on the McKenzie case?’ Lilly asked.

‘Yes.’

‘Can you tell me what?’ she asked.

‘Not at this time.’

‘This is me you’re talking to, Jack.’

He sighed. ‘You made this official, Lilly. You drew the line in the sand.’

She opened her mouth to argue but knew there was no point. For one thing, it was entirely true.

‘Okay then,’ she said, ‘let me know when you have any
information
you can pass on.’

‘I will.’

Lilly hung up the phone and pressed her lips together. Jack’s position was clear and she had brought it on herself.

‘Let’s get you to nursery.’ Lilly kissed Alice who had finally run out of steam.

A shower would have to wait.

She arrived outside Little Daisies half an hour later, Alice still in her sleep suit encrusted with baby rice, Lilly wearing a coat over her pyjamas and a ski hat to cover her unruly hair. A stray and frizzy ringlet tickled her nose and she blew it upwards in short blasts. She’d thrown a suit in the boot of her car and would change at work.

Nikki came to the door. At twenty-two she was the senior nursery nurse, and never failed to make Lilly feel inadequate. She could smell out an empty nappy bag at ten paces.

‘Hello Mrs Valentine.’ She blinked at Lilly’s appearance.

Lilly was about to explain that she wasn’t a Mrs but she stopped herself. Instead, she held Alice out like a parcel.

‘Ooh, she doesn’t look very good, does she?’ said Nikki.

‘Just sleepy,’ Lilly laughed. ‘She’s worn herself out screaming.’

Nikki squinted at Alice’s floppy body, her neck lolling to one side.

‘Is she running a temperature?’ She held a palm to Alice’s forehead.

Lilly shook her head. Alice had wolfed down a bottle. She couldn’t be ill.

‘She’s fine.’

Nikki took Alice from her with a doubtful frown. ‘If you’re sure.’

Lilly smiled in what she hoped was a confident manner. This girl hadn’t yet had a child of her own. This was Lilly’s second and she knew when a baby was or wasn’t sick. She turned to leave, waiting for Alice to start howling. Instead she heard something worse. A bovine moan followed by the splash of liquid as it hit the tiles. Alice had thrown up over Nikki’s shoes.

After the fresh winter wind outside, the smell of disinfectant was overpowering. Jack instinctively put his hand to his mouth.

‘You get used to it,’ the nurse clucked from the ward desk.

‘How?’ Jack choked.

She waved her hand in the direction of an old lady being led by the hand to the bathroom, the flaps of her gown wafting open at the back, exposing her arse.

‘The alternatives are worse.’

Jack shivered. He loathed the thought of growing old. Never thought he would. Occasionally he’d allowed himself the luxury of imagining the future with Lilly. He’d been an eejit to ever think it could happen.

‘How can I help you?’ asked the nurse.

Jack flashed his warrant card and she smiled. ‘Copper eh?’

‘I got a call about Malaya Ebola.’

The nurse’s face straightened. ‘Tragic isn’t it?’

Jack nodded.

‘Something’s got to be done about these gangs,’ said the nurse. ‘They’re a law unto themselves.’

‘I’d like to speak to Malaya’s doctor if I may,’ said Jack.

The nurse leaned towards the computer and tapped a few keys.

‘Mr Stephenson,’ she said. ‘But he’ll need to speak to the
family
first.’

‘Of course,’ said Jack.

He took a seat next to the desk and waited. He tried not to think how he’d feel if it were Alice laying on that hospital bed.

A moment later, the buzzer to the ward doors sounded. The nurse answered and released the lock.

‘It’s the grandmother,’ she said.

Jack breathed deeply as Mrs Ebola puffed her way towards them, each footstep heavier than the last. She was wearing thick surgical tights and her swollen feet were squeezed into sandals. His ma had been the same, wearing her Scholls whatever the weather. There were prima ballerinas with fewer bunions.

When the old lady recognized Jack, her eyes opened in alarm.

‘What has happened?’ She was out of breath.

Jack jumped up. ‘Take a seat Mrs Ebola.’

She flapped her arms against her sides, and began to groan. Jack tried to push her into a chair as her knees began to give way.

‘Oh my Lord. Oh my Jesus,’ she whimpered.

Jack felt the full bulk of her collapse in his arms. He was terrified he wouldn’t be able to take her weight, that they’d fall to the ground together. He tensed both his arms and his back, holding her as best he could.

‘Why are we punished like this again?’ she moaned. ‘Why have you forsaken us?’

Sweat prickled Jack’s back and just as he thought his knees would buckle the nurse sprang around the desk and wedged
herself
under Mrs Ebola’s left arm. She was surprisingly strong and Jack felt immediate relief. Together they managed to lower the desperate old lady into the chair where she slumped backwards, still praying aloud.

Jack fell to his knees at Mrs Ebola’s feet and took one of her hands in his. It was huge and lined, yet smooth between the deep furrows.

‘It’s okay, Mrs Ebola, it’s okay.’

He looked at the nurse and gestured to the phone on the desk. ‘Better get the doc.’

She gave a single nod and hurried to make the call.

Jack turned back to Mrs Ebola. ‘It’s going to be all right. Everything’s going to be all right.’

Mrs Ebola looked at him as if he were completely mad. He noticed that her dark brown eyes shone with an intense
brightness
, like shards of broken mirror.

‘Malaya is dead and you think everything will be all right?’

Jack frowned. Then in an instant he understood why Mrs Ebola had reacted as she had. She wasn’t having a heart attack, she had seen a copper and thought the worst. Mary, Mother of God, he had nearly killed the woman.

‘She’d not dead Mrs Ebola. Malaya’s not dead.’

Mrs Ebola’s entire body went rigid. ‘Not dead?’

Jack shook his head.

‘Are you sure?’ She blinked at him in incomprehension.

‘Absolutely.’

‘Then why are you here?’ she asked.

‘Because the hospital rang me to say Malaya had woken up.’

The thumping on the door is so loud that Demi jumps out of bed.

Shit. Her first thought is that Gran is back from the hospital. She’ll be furious when she finds out Demi hasn’t gone to school. Maybe Demi can say she felt sick. But will Gran believe that?

And why is she knocking on the door? Why doesn’t she just let herself in?

Demi’s heart pounds as the thumping continues. She can hear from the sound that whoever it is, is using the side of their fist and not their knuckles. Thump, thump, thump. Both the door and Demi’s heart.

She rubs her bare arms in the cold and tries to think straight. Perhaps it is Gran and she’s lost her key. But why knock? She thinks Demi is out at school, so who could answer? And Gran would never hammer like that. She tells the girls off whenever they clatter down the corridor, or slam a cupboard door. ‘The world does not need to share our every move.’

Not Gran, then. So who?

If she just keeps very still and waits, whoever it is will have to go away. She holds her breath as if the person at the door might be able to hear even that. Another rally of thumping makes Demi start.

Whoever you are, just go away.

Then it stops. Silence.

Demi listens very hard for the sound of shoes moving away from the door. She’s tempted to creep to the window and try to see who it is. But what if they look up and catch her? No, that’s a stupid plan. She’ll just remain completely still until the coast is clear.

Just when she thinks enough time has elapsed and it must be safe, she hears the tell-tale scratch of someone lifting the
letterbox
as they peer inside.

‘Demi,’ a voice calls out, ‘you in there?’

Shock roots Demi to the spot. It’s a girl’s voice and for a moment she thinks it might be her sister.

‘It’s me,’ the girl shouts. ‘Chika.’

Demi’s eyes widen. Yesterday, Chika had promised to check on Demi every day.

‘It’s the least I can do for Malaya, innit.’ She stuffed the last of her chicken burger into her mouth, her lips greasy with
mayonnaise
. ‘Family and that, gotta stick together.’

It had made Demi smile, even though she hadn’t believed it. Yet here she is, true to her word.

Demi grabs her school sweatshirt from the floor, pulls it over her pyjamas and races to the door. She can see through the frosted glass that Chika has begun to move away, her outline
disappearing
. She pulls open the door.

‘Chika,’ she calls.

Chika has reached the end of the walkway and turns to Demi’s voice. She’s wearing a hoodie pulled over her baseball cap and dark glasses, despite the greyness of the morning.

‘You sagging school?’ Chika slides back towards the flat.

Demi hopes she’s not going to get a lecture and shrugs. She needn’t have worried, Chika just laughs.

‘Your Gran’s gonna beat your arse.’ Chika wags her finger.

‘She’s at the hospital,’ says Demi.

Chika leans her hip against the balcony wall, one arm dropping into mid-air. ‘You hungry?’

Demi nods.

‘All right.’ Chika looks away from Demi, out over the estate. ‘Meet me in Dirty Mick’s in half an hour.’

Demi must look clueless because Chika rolls her eyes. ‘The caff on the corner.’

Demi wants to say thank you, to tell Chika how much she appreciates her kindness, but she’s already walking away towards the stairwell.

Lilly carried Alice in her car seat from the car to the office. She plonked it on the step as she rummaged for her keys. Since Alice had projectile-vomited at nursery, and Lilly had been forced to beat a hasty retreat while Nikki rubbed her shoes angrily with kitchen roll, Alice had shown no other signs of ill health.

‘You,’ Lilly pointed down at her with the key, ‘are a fraud.’

Alice gurgled back at her.

Once inside, Lilly went straight to the kitchen. The answer phone was winking wildly and she really needed to change into her suit, but she was completely famished. She rummaged in the fridge and pulled out a Twix. Not the healthiest of breakfasts, but needs must.

She handed Alice a rice cake, which she sucked until it
disintegrated
into wet sludge under her chin, and went back to reception to check her messages. Several clients were baying for her blood, or their divorce documents at least. She had to get those out today or they would sack her for sure. She logged on to the computer and sighed. Fifty-three unanswered emails.

She smiled at Alice. ‘We’re going to be here till midnight, kiddo.’

Lilly looked down at herself. She really did need to change out of her PJs, but she’d do an hour’s work first.