Authors: Kate Maclachlan
'C'mon, Gemma,' coaxed Gary, 'you heard Mum –
you've gotta drink.'
'Yuck!' said Gemma.
'But Coke's your favourite – all those E numbers –
I've even put ice in it.'
'Yuck!' she said again and turned her head.
Gary could see beads of sweat strung out across her
forehead. He fetched a flannel soaked in cold water and
laid it across her brow like they did in the old black and
white war movies. In those, the patients gasped gratefully,
but Gemma just flung the flannel back at him.
'Sod you,' he said.
Josh was flaked out on two armchairs Gary had
shoved together, surrounded by videos and comics. Gary
punched his arm playfully. 'How you doing, wee man?'
'Aow! What did you do that for, you big bully?'
Gary groaned. He just wasn't cut out to be Florence
Nightingale.
'I feel sick,' said Josh.
'Don't you dare!'
Josh retched and Gary ran for a bowl. By the time he
got back Josh had thrown up all over the carpet.
'What a stink! Could you not hold on, Josh?'
'I want my mum,' Gemma started whining from the
couch.
Gary held his nose with one hand and used the coal
shovel to lift the biggest bits of vomit off the carpet. He
tossed them onto the fire and carrot and celery sizzled
on the coals. Then he fetched the Dettol and poured
about a pint of it over the stain on the carpet, rubbing it
in with his trainer.
'That smell's going to make me sick again,' Josh
told him.
Gary opened the window, then he built up the fire
again. Was he supposed to keep them warm or keep
them cool? And how could he make Gemma drink if she
didn't want to? At least Josh was drinking.
'I'm going to be sick again,' Josh announced.
This time Gary caught it in the bowl though he had to
turn his face away, screwed up in disgust. Josh lay back,
white-faced, asking pathetically for his mum.
She had rung earlier but the kids had been all right
then. The moment he had reassured her and put the
phone down they started getting worse. She would be on
her way home by now but the traffic could be bad at
closing time on a Saturday night.
Gary's stomach leapt. A quarter past eleven. How
could he have forgotten?
He pressed his face against the cold windowpane and
craned his neck. Right at the top of the hill a car was
parked, a big pale saloon, lying there, nose first, like
some killer fish.
It must be them. What if Des had messed things up?
What if they beat up the wrong guy? Gary's stomach
started squeezing in and out like a juicer. Maybe he
should sprint up to the car and cancel the whole thing.
But O'Keefe deserved a good doing, didn't he?
Something to warn him off properly. Tasha was safely
with her mum and Zee tonight, and he and Des had
sound alibis. He mustn't lose his bottle.
'I want my mummy,' demanded Gemma.
'Well you can't have her,' he said.
'Zee then. Zee knows what to do.'
'And I don't? Thanks a bunch.'
Still, maybe it was not such a bad idea. Zee might
know if they should be kept hot or cool. She might even
know how to keep fluids down them. And it was her turn
to hold the sick bowls. 'I'll ring her,' he announced.
At first no one answered. Probably drunk, or else that
creepy Bosnian was deafening them all with his piano.
Gary had heard him banging away at it before, loud
enough to drive out evil.
'Hello,' came a voice at last.
'Tasha?' He broke into a sweat just talking to her
down the phone. 'How's things?'
'Gary? Hi. Things are fine.'
'Good – er – I need to speak to Zee.'
There was a crackling noise. 'Er. . . bad line. Shall
I . . . take a message?'
'Tell her to come home.'
'Home?' Tasha sounded stunned.
'The place she's supposed to live?'
'Yeah – um – it's just that we . . . haven't had coffee yet.'
'Too bad! She's needed.' Gary was irritated. 'Her wee
brother and sister are at death's door.'
There was more crackling, then Tasha promised to
send Zee home and the line went dead.
When Gary went back into the living room things had
got even worse. Josh was complaining tearfully about
being itchy then Gemma started throwing up too. Gary
held the bowl for her but when some of it splashed onto
his thumb he thought he was going to be sick himself.
'Don't scratch,' he yelled at Josh. 'If you scratch
you'll have scars. No one wants scars, do they?'
Josh started crying for real now, howling for his
mother. Where had she got to? And where was Zee? It
was only a two-minute walk from Tasha's.
'Where's Zee?' moaned Gemma. 'I want
Zee
.'
Her face was flushed and shiny, she looked really ill.
Gary gritted his teeth. He would have to go and drag Zee
home. The selfish cow. Too bad if it embarrassed her,
she should have come back when he rang.
'Right, you two – don't move,' he instructed. 'I'm
going to get Zee.'
He shot out of the house and along the road. The big
car had just started cruising. Tasha opened the front door
to him almost at once.
'Hi,' she said breezily.
'Where's Zee?'
'She's coming.'
'Good.' He couldn't help eyeing Tasha up as he
waited. A slinky black dress clung to her curves and her
hair was piled on top of her head with blonde tendrils
trailing sexily down. The sounds of tinkling glass and
laughter came from inside. 'Is she coming or do I have
to go in and get her?' he demanded.
'Please don't! Look, you go back and I'll make sure
Zee follows.'
'She's needed
now
. The twins are chuckin' up all over
the place.'
There was a movement inside but instead of Zee, it
was Magda who appeared, dressed in red and silver.
'Hello – it's Gary, isn't it?'
'Yes, I've come for Zee,' he said politely.
'Oh, but Zee's not here. She told us weeks ago she
couldn't make it tonight, didn't she, Tasha?' Magda
winked. 'Other fish to fry, I suspect.'
Gary looked at Tasha but Tasha had closed her eyes.
She seemed to be praying. Magda went back to her party
but Gary grabbed Tasha's wrist before she could follow.
He pulled her down the steps and out of earshot.
'What the hell's going on, Tash?'
'Nothing!'
'Where is she?'
'I don't know.'
'You
do
. You girls tell each other everything.'
Tasha's chin shot up defiantly. 'Yeah? Well it's none
of your business, you big bully!'
That was the second time he'd been called a bully
tonight, he thought bitterly. 'Is it some biker or something?
Some punk me mum wouldn't like?'
But Tasha didn't answer, she just stared at him boldly,
even when he yelled right in her face. Suddenly Gary
twigged. 'It's someone
I
wouldn't like, isn't it?'
A screech of brakes split the night air at that moment,
followed by another screech, then car doors banged and
there was shouting.
'Whatever's that?' cried Tasha.
'Nothing!' Suddenly his heart jolted like a bungee
jumper's. 'Where is Zee? Who's she with, Tasha –
tell me
!'
At that moment Gary heard his sister scream.
On the bus home, Conor and Zee had cuddled up. He
kissed her more tenderly than ever, cradling her face between
his hands and brushing her lips gently with his own.
'There are so many things I should have said tonight,'
he whispered.
'There's no need,' she whispered back and it was true.
She could make out every word just by looking in his
eyes; she had never seen them so soft and loving.
'I can't believe we argued,' he murmured.
But they had. Nothing could close this chasm that had
opened up between them, thought Zee. Conor would
stay in his Brave New Ireland and she would not.
The problem had always been there, like a crack in the
ground beneath them, but tonight something volcanic had
opened up that crack and thrust them apart. Zee did not
think things would ever be quite the same again.
At Hazel Grove the last of the day's heat hung, heavy
as a dust-sheet, over the leafy suburb. Gardens exuded a
sickly heightened perfume, and overhead, trees flung
out their branches like thirsty wraiths, sucking at the
darkness underneath.
Zee shivered in spite of the heat, she would be glad to
get home. As they strode out she heard the low cough of
an ignition and saw a car move slowly towards them.
One gear change instead of two.
'Why's it creeping along, Con?'
He didn't answer. His hand tightened around hers and
as the car drew level, he muttered, 'Keep walking!'
Her heart missed a beat. The two men inside it stared
out at them, then accelerated smoothly away.
'Who d'you think they are, Con?'
'Dunno.' His face was taut and he gripped her hand so
tightly that it hurt. 'Let's nip into the woods, Zee, just in
case.'
She didn't ask in case of what, she was too scared.
They left the pavement and ran for the trees.
'Watch out, Zee!'
Lights blazing, accelerating hard, the car came
swarming back. They leapt back onto the pavement just
in time. Brakes screeched as the car swerved in a tight
U-turn, then sped back, rocking to a halt just feet away.
The doors flew open. Blinded by the beam, Conor and
Zee picked out two men, hooded now and black as rocks
against the headlights.
One came towards them, moving like a statue with
one arm outstretched. A blade glinted in his hand.
'No . . . ' It was Conor's voice, Zee's had vanished
altogether. Conor's came again, stronger this time. 'It's
me you want – not her. D'you hear? Leave her be!'
A fist in his mouth answered him as the second man
moved in. Conor's hand was torn from Zee's as he went
tumbling over backwards.
Alone now, the blade came glinting towards her.
Behind it eyes glittered through holes in a balaclava.
Bright cruel eyes. Zee's stomach folded up with dread.
The man grabbed her sweatshirt with his free hand
and forced her to the ground. It happened so fast,
seemed so astonishing, that she didn't even yell. It was
only when he knelt on her stomach, crushing her body
that she felt pain. She began to gasp for breath. For one
moment she thought she would be raped.
'No . . . no . . . please don't . . . '
Perhaps it was hearing herself beg, perhaps it was
Conor's cries as he was kicked, but somewhere, deep
inside Zee, something clicked. Out of her shock emerged
the urgent, overwhelming need to get away, to get help, to
save them both, to run like she had never run before.
She started to fight back. She writhed beneath the
man, jerking and twisting her body. She tried to wrench
away, battering him with her fists and thrashing him
with her feet. Her fingers hurt she gripped him so hard,
even her nails ached. But gradually, terrifyingly, her
limbs lost strength.
It was hopeless. His sheer size and strength defeated
her. He let her struggle until she was reduced to exhausted
feeble spasms, as helpless as a fly in a Venus trap.
'Fenian lover,' he croaked at her. 'Bitch! This is for
your da.'
For one moment he held the blade flat and cold
against her cheek. Their eyes met and his glittered
suddenly, like crushed ice. Behind the balaclava he had
smiled. Then the knife bit and tore across her cheek.
'Oh dear God, no!' It was Conor's voice filled with
disbelief.
Zee's cheek punctured like a summer apple but it took
a moment for the skin to separate and pull apart. Long
enough for Zee to think that perhaps, somehow,
bizarrely, it would be okay. Then she felt her blood
begin to seep and drip. It soaked into her mouth.
Repulsed, she spat it out. Blood clogged her nostrils so
she could barely breathe. A slick of it glued her eyes.
Fear came roaring back as the knife cut again, fear
like a hundred-foot wave threatening to drown her. She
heard herself screaming, then she knew that she had to
hold on. She braced herself like a surfer clinging to life,
against that huge, annihilating panic.
Somehow she held on. Saw her own blood splatter the
pavement but held on. Saw his hairy wrist flick before
her eyes, smelt the stench of sweat and beer coming off
him, but held on. It would stop eventually if only she
held on.
'Ben!' shouted someone. 'Get off her! Leave her be!'
It was Gary. Unbelievably, Gary.
'Help!' she screamed at him. 'Help me, Gary!'
'Jimmy, call him off – he's lost it!'
There was panic in her brother's voice. Blood blinded
her, she could see nothing but she knew it was Gary who
tore into her assailant because she recognised his gasp.
Then came sudden staggering release. The man had
thrown her aside, there was more shouting, then doors
banged and the car screeched off.
She flinched as arms went round her once more but
this time they were Gary's arms. 'It's over,' he said. 'It's
over, it's over.' And he kept saying it while the moments
passed and she began to believe that it was true.
There were more running footsteps, high-heeled running,
then Tasha's voice as clear and English as Big Ben.
'Oh my God, no! Stay where you are – don't move.
I'll get help.'
Her heels clattered off again and Zee felt someone
gently wiping her eyes.
'Open them,' pleaded Conor, 'please,
please
open
your eyes, Zee.'
She struggled to separate her eyelids. At first she
couldn't, then they came apart like a torn seam and the
first thing she saw was Conor, kneeling in front of her,
using his new shirt to clean her eyes. Heavens, his
mother would kill him.
'I can see,' she whispered, 'I
can
see.'
Gary was still at her side, still holding her up . . . Gary,
tear-streaked, so white and shocked she hardly knew
him. And yet she did . . . Gary, swagger gone, stripped
back to being her brother.
Conor, bloodied and bruised, rounded on him. 'You
knew their names, Gary. . . you
knew
!'
'I . . . ' Gary shook his head but he didn't deny it and
his eyes were wild. 'This wasn't meant to happen,' he
said. 'I swear it wasn't!'
Conor let out a roar like a lion and he might have torn
Gary limb from limb if feet had not come running from all
directions and suddenly there were neighbours fussing,
lights flashing, someone pressing buttons on a mobile
phone.
'Go, Gary,' breathed Zee, then she found herself so
weak that she could hardly speak.
'What?' he pressed. '
What did you say
?'
Conor understood. 'She's telling you to disappear –
before the police arrive.'
'But—'
'Then do us all a favour,' said Conor fiercely, 'and
stay disappeared.'
Something shut down deep inside Zee's head. Some part
of her tried to move to a place where there was no fuss and
no noise and no difficult decisions to be made. Voices
floated around her but they were unreal, disembodied
voices like echoes, and she didn't have to answer echoes.
'. . . keep her awake,' said one echo.
'. . . lost a lot of blood,' came another.
'. . . what sort of beast would do this?' Unmistakably
Mrs G.
Zee's head spun further and further away. Darkness
moved in from the edges, floating dizzily, sickeningly,
swallowing her up.
'Hang on, Zee, talk to me!'
She wanted to answer Con and to take him with her.
Wherever she was going, she desperately wanted him to
be there.
A shrieking siren brought her back for a moment, she
saw flashing lights and people moving about. Sounds
came and went with brittle, elongated echoes and she
had the weird sensation of spinning away from them all.
Nothing to hold on to, gravity pulling her down, tearing
at her, forcing her away. And finally a huge glass globe
shattering all around her as her grip loosened and she
went spinning away from the world.