Chris Cleave Ebook Boxed Set (61 page)

—Look they’ve made a mistake.

—No, said Petra. They’ve made about 100 million pounds this year. And you know why? Because clothes are like magic. It’s a small price to pay.

—Yeah right.

I was laughing at Petra but then I turned to look at myself in the mirror and I gasped. It was crazy. I could of been on the cover of a magazine. I was tall and beautiful and all I could think was HA! I’d like to see you banging on about caravans when you get an eyeful of THIS Terence Butcher. I looked at myself I just stared and stared I
was so happy I started to cry. I watched the tears run down my face I was thinking Oh dear god it really could happen couldn’t it my luck really could change.

—I look alright don’t I?

Petra came up close behind me and she put her chin on my shoulder and her hands on my waist. She was grinning at me in the mirror.

—Here’s to turning a new page, she said.

We both just stood there for ages watching the new me. I smiled back at Petra in the mirror. She was so like me especially now we were both dressed classy. It was like we were sisters but you couldn’t really tell till we were dressed the same. Petra had thick pink gloss on her lips. It was nice and shiny like the back of a beetle.

The flames started in the ends of Petra’s hair and they moved along it like a fuse. They spread to her face quite quickly. Her hair burned yellowy blue like a gas fire. The lacquer on her lips started to go brown and blister. Her lips started moving but it wasn’t Petra’s voice that came out it was my boy’s. Mummy her lips said help Mummy my hair’s on fire it hurts it hurts.

I turned round and I pushed Petra to the floor of the cubicle. I rolled her across the blue carpet tiles trying to put the fire out. She was screaming and kicking and swearing blue murder at me. The flames were spreading up my arms too. My whole front was on fire I could feel the wire of the new bra red hot and sizzling into the soft skin under my tits. It hurt so bad I don’t have the words. The skin was peeling off my hands but I kept trying to put the flames out. I grabbed all the clothes we’d been trying on and I pushed them down all over Petra’s body. I was trying to smother the flames but all the clothes caught fire instead. It all went up in flames the Katherine Hamnett and Armani and Diane von Furstenberg it all looked the same when it was burning.

I started to scream there was nothing else I could do my hands were burned down to stumps. I closed my eyes. I could still hear my boy’s voice screaming out of Petra’s mouth MUMMY MUMMY
WHY DON’T YOU HELP ME? I put my arms over my ears and screamed into the smoke and the dark.

* * *

The first thing I heard was Petra’s voice. It’s okay she was saying. It’s okay it’s over it’s okay. I opened my eyes. I was sitting on the floor of the cubicle and there were clothes lying all around me. Nothing was on fire. Nothing hurt. A first aider was in the cubicle with us and she was dabbing at a scratch on my face with witch hazel. It stung but I always did love the smell of witch hazel. Petra was holding my head and stroking the hair back off my face. Deep breaths she was saying. Deep breaths. Could someone please fetch us a glass of water?

I looked up. There were security guards outside the cubicle watching us. One of them nipped off and came back with a plastic cup of water. It was half full and warm. The water tasted of blood I suppose I must of bit my tongue.

—Is your friend going to be alright? said the first aider.

Petra looked at me. Her hair was all messed up and her eye makeup was running it was obvious she’d been crying. She smiled at me.

—Of course she’s going to be alright, said Petra. Can you get up?

—I think so.

I stood up with the first aider helping me. My head felt light. Like it might just up sticks any moment and float off into the Shield of Hope. After a while the first aider and the security guards left us alone. I watched myself in the mirror. I was very pale in my bright new clothes. I looked at Petra.

—I’m so sorry.

She hugged me for a long time. I was shaking. We stood there in the cubicle and it was very quiet again with just our breathing and the sound of the spotlights buzzing.

We left my old clothes behind in the cubicle. The only thing I
took out of there was Mr. Rabbit. Petra paid for the clothes I was wearing. It came to more than our old Astra.

When we got outside it was lunchtime. The weather was lovely. Hyde Park was right in front of us on the other side of Knights-bridge.

—Let’s keep you out in the fresh air for a while, said Petra. We’ll go on the Serpentine. We’ll bob around on a boat.

—I don’t like boats they make me nervous.

—No they don’t, said Petra. And if we get bored we’ll step ashore and seduce the park wardens.

I was in a bit of a daze still. Petra had to get hold of my wrist and lead me. We went into a take-away place I don’t remember which. Petra bought sushi and 2 bottles of cold white wine and we walked into the park as far as the Serpentine.

There was a long queue to hire a rowing boat so Petra stuck her fingers in her mouth and whistled. She hailed this young couple who were already in one of the boats like they were a cab. She gave them 50 quid to turn the thing over to us she was that kind of girl. I was very wobbly getting into the rowing boat I don’t think they were meant for heels. We had a go with the paddles but we couldn’t work out how to make the boat go straight so we just let it drift.

We lay back in the bottom of the boat. It was less wobbly that way. You’d of thought it’d be nice out there on the water but it wasn’t particularly. The sky was blue but you couldn’t see much of it what with all the balloons in the Shield of Hope. They hadn’t chosen very nice people for the balloons round Hyde Park anyway. The faces were mostly fat blokes who looked like they could tuck the pints away. They were the sort of blokes who’d call each other by nicknames like oi Baz and oi Todger and you could imagine them pinching your bum at a New Year’s Eve party. Saying How about it darling? It was funny seeing those dead fat blokes 500 feet up in the air saving us from kamikazes. It might of been the first decent thing they’d done in their lives most of them.

There were helicopters buzzing around between the balloons. One of them was doing a circuit and it kept coming down low over the park. You could see the pilots in their big helmets just like my boy’s lego men. I waved at them but they didn’t wave back. I suppose it isn’t easy when your arms don’t bend at the elbow. As if the chopper wasn’t enough there was a police boat on the water. It was only a small rubber boat with 2 coppers in short-sleeve shirts. I don’t know what they were in aid of. I suppose if you had been planning a raid on the ice cream van on the north shore of the Serpentine Osama then you’d of had to call it off. When the police boat went past it made our little boat rock.

It wasn’t very relaxing out there but everyone was making the best of it. That’s the British way after all. The Serpentine is half full and all that. We started drinking the wine out of plastic cups. It was hot in the sun and the wine was cold and it went straight to my head. Petra sighed. She was trailing her hand in the water making little ripples.

—How do you feel now? she said.

—Better. I still don’t feel right though. I’m trying not to panic.

—I know what you mean, said Petra. Listen. I just want you to know that I’m here for you. However long it takes for you to get better in your mind.

—Thanks.

—You’re welcome, said Petra. Anyway I’d much rather spend a nice sunny day with you than with bloody Jasper. Frankly he’s turning into a bit of a bore. He used to be such an extraordinary boy. There was nothing he wasn’t interested in. He could talk for hours about pop music or plutonium or chicken pox it didn’t matter. It was always fascinating because he was always fascinated. All that’s finished now. Ever since May Day he’s been depressed. He’s been seeing quite a bit of Charlie at weekends and it puts him in a mood all week.

—Charlie?

—Coke, said Petra. Cocaine. The pale mistress. How is a girl to compete?

—I wouldn’t know. The worst my husband ever took was 2 Alka-Seltzer in a small glass of water.

Petra laughed and poured us more wine into the plastic cups.

—Coke’s not the big deal, she said. Not in itself. I know lots of perfectly glamorous people who seem able to dispatch tons of the stuff without feeling compelled to follow girls into the lavatory.

Petra let her head fall back against the wooden side of the boat. Thump. The helicopter went over again very low. The wind it made sent dark little waves rushing outwards from the middle of the Serpentine and it ruffled our Lady Di hairdos.

—You shouldn’t of done that to your hair. It was nicer before.

Petra’s head was still resting against the side of the boat. She closed her eyes.

—True, she said. Still. Jasper likes it.

—Does he?

Petra opened an eye and squinted at me.

—Yes, she said. We have better sex when I look like you.

—Oh.

—Yes, said Petra. It’s so ironic. You’d think I could come up with some other look to turn him on. Considering my job is to inform millions of people how to render themselves more attractive to the gender of their choice. Considering I’m Lifestyle Editor of the
Sunday Telegraph
and you’re. Well.

—Drunk.

—Yes, said Petra. Oh me too. What is it with booze and boats?

She laughed and poured out the last of the bottle. Then she swallowed. She twisted the hem of her skirt between her fingers.

—I think I might even be drunk enough to say what I’ve been thinking now, she said.

—What?

Petra sat up straight. She held on to my wrist with both hands
and the boat wobbled. She moved her face close to mine. Her eyes were shining.

—Move in with us, she said.

—You what?

—Move in with us. Take a holiday from that depressing flat and your awful memories. Come and spend some time to recover.

—Recover? With you?

—Yes, said Petra. It’ll do us all some good. Jasper especially. It’ll take his mind off the coke.

—Nah. You’re having a laugh aren’t you? This time last week you were throwing things.

Petra blushed and looked away over the side of the boat.

—That was before I saw you in Hermès, she said.

—You’re not in your right mind.

—No, said Petra. But the entire planet isn’t in its right mind since May Day so for pity’s sake let’s just roll with it. What the hell is the use in the whole world going crazy if we can’t do the same?

I was looking out over the water. People were doing nice normal things in their boats. Teenagers were snogging in their life jackets. Dads were teaching their boys to row. Everyone was laughing and putting on a brave face and sun cream. I wasn’t like them any more. I didn’t have a boy to teach how to row. Apparently I had a chap to distract from cocaine there’s a difference. I started to cry very quietly. The tears slid off my cheeks into the Serpentine.

—I couldn’t Petra. When I see Jasper I see the explosion. Again and again and again.

—Yes, said Petra. But tell me. Honestly. What do you see when you’re sitting home alone?

I looked up at Petra I felt sickness rising in my stomach. I wished it was over I wished I could be far away in a caravan at sunrise I wished I’d never argued with Terence Butcher.

—This isn’t fair.

Petra brushed the tips of her fingers through the tears on my cheeks and put her fingers to her mouth.

—So be brave, she said.

Our boat drifted into the shadow of a barrage balloon. It was cold out of the sun. I shivered. We never did eat that sushi. I mean why would you? All seaweed and raw tuna sushi is. More like a fishing boat accident than lunch. Petra fed hers to the pigeons. I dropped mine over the side. I cried and watched the big white rolls of rice fall out of sight in the muddy brown water. I was thinking bombs away.

Before you bombed my boy Osama I always thought an explosion was such a quick thing but now I know better. The flash is over very fast but the fire catches hold inside you and the noise never stops. You can press your hands on your ears but you can never block it out. The fire keeps on roaring with incredible noise and fury. And the strangest thing is people can be sitting right next to you on the Central Line and not hear a sound. I live in an inferno where you could shiver with cold Osama. This life is a deafening roar but listen. You could hear a pin drop.

Dear Osama I could of been Petra Sutherland.

I looked at myself in Petra’s dressing table mirror. I was putting her Sisley Lychee Glossy Gloss on my lips. I pressed my lips together mmm mmm. I am Petra Sutherland I said. I wouldn’t need to work if I didn’t simply adore my job. I can do whatever the hell I please.

I looked at myself and I tried to think what earrings she’d wear with those lips. I was watching the clock. 7:45 a.m. There was still an hour before I had to head off to Scotland Yard. I opened the drawer and I took out Petra’s pearl earrings. I hooked them into my ears and they felt heavy and perfect. I turned my head to the side and the earrings followed like well-trained money.

I held my chin up just the way she did. I was almost there. Just my eyes to do and I was her. It was still half dark outside and there was rain beating against the window. I took her mascara. Yves Saint Laurent False Lash Effect mascara. It came in a lovely thin gold bottle. It was cold and heavy in your hand like the barrel of the gun the hit man screws together in spy films. I put it on my lashes and blinked at myself. My heart was racing. I was her. I was her. I am Petra Sutherland I said into the mirror and I smiled just so.

The real Petra was in New York. It was just me and Jasper in the house and he wouldn’t be awake for hours. The poor chap was dead to the world on their bed behind me. I was all alone in Petra’s life and I was thinking wouldn’t it be nice if I didn’t ever have to give it back. I was pretending if I could just get ever so good at being Petra
then one day she’d come back from her week with American
Vogue
and I’d be all like
WHAT THE HELL DO YOU THINK YOU’RE DOING LETTING YOURSELF INTO MY FLAT LIKE THAT
? and I’d send her packing to the Wellington Estate.