The Girl by the Thames (3 page)

A livid-faced girl with fluorescent red hair appeared in front of them.

“That’s mine,” she said to Lena who was mid gulp.

“Yeah, and?” Lena replied.

“You thick or something? I want it back.”

“Oh all right then.” Lena upturned the bottle over her head, spilling red liquid down her. The girl shrieked and desperately wiped the wine out of her eyes. They were whoops and cheers all round and a circle opened up around Lena and the girl. Everyone was ready to watch a fight unfold.

“You shouldn’t have done that. I’m going to …”

Before the words were out of the girl’s mouth, Lena jumped off the counter and smashed the bottle, sending a halo of glass everywhere. She stood in front of the girl, holding the jagged end up to her throat.

“Wanna face-lift? I’ll do you one for nothing,” Lena said. Her voice was calm, but her eyes shone with menace. It didn’t take long for the girl to realise she was outgunned. She disappeared into the throng. Lena threw the battered end of the bottle at her, but it hit someone else who was too out of it to notice.

“Nice one, Lena, now we’ve got nothing to drink,” said Tanya.

“What? I’m not going to take that from some ginger slag.”

“Yeah, but you didn’t have to pour wine all over her and smash the bottle, did you? You could’ve just clumped her. Then we’d still have something to drink.”

Lena blew hard and folded her arms. She had no come back. Tanya was right. The same result could have been achieved without pretending she was in an action movie.

The girls stood silently as dual moods set in. Both pairs of arms were folded and lips were tight. At least no boys bothered to chat them up. The deadlock was broken when a corridor opened in the crowd. Through it came seven imposing figures. Two girls and five boys. They were older, at least nineteen or twenty, which was practically middle-aged compared to Tanya and Lena. Everyone gave them more room than they needed. They made straight for Lena.

A strong-looking girl in a tight tracksuit spoke first:

“We heard you wagged a broken bottle in Sadie’s face.”

Lena stepped up to the girl and stared her out.

“Yeah, I’ll do the same to you as well.”

The girl looked serous for a second, then laughed.

“Oh, I like her,” she said to the rest of them.

“You’ve got a pair, girl, that’s for sure,” said one of the boys. He was well built for his age and wore a bright red hooded top. He put his arm around the girl in the tracksuit to broadcast they were an item.

“Who the fuck are you?” Lena said, her face tightly pinched.

“Are you Lena?” said the boy.

She looked at them all, sizing each one up. Even she could see it was pointless to stand up to them. “Yeah,” she said eventually. “And this is Tanya.”

“We’re not interested in her, just you,” he said.

“Don’t worry about Sadie, either,” said the girl. “We’re not here for payback. We’re not her friend or nothing. Anyway she’s an annoying little bitch and had it coming.”

“So what you want then?” Lena was still in defensive mode.

“We could do with someone like you,” said the red hoodie.

“What do you want her for?” Tanya interrupted.

“What? You her girlfriend?” said the girl. “You’re not part of this conversation, darling.”

“Hey, that’s my mate, don’t backchat her,” said Lena.

“Wow, you are feisty. If you knew who we were, you wouldn’t be making speeches, but seeing as you don’t know, I’ll let you off. We want you to hang with us a while.”

“Are you the Niners?” asked Tanya.

The girl glared at her, angry that Tanya had dared to open her mouth. “Might be, wanna find out?”

The Niners were legends around Woolwich. They had gotten their name because nine was rumoured to be the number of unfortunate teenagers who had felt their fury at the end of a knife. Just the mention of the name opened doors, doors that were usually heavily barred and guarded by people with scars and reputations. At one time everyone was going around saying they were a Niner because of the status it had on the streets. The real Niners got to hear about it and hunted down every wannabe. It was now considered safer to jump in front of a train than impersonate a Niner. This had made the gang very secretive and select - you never really knew if you were speaking to a Niner or not.

Lena looked at Tanya for some guidance, but Tanya sensed that silence was smarter at this point.

“Don’t worry, we ain’t going to hurt you,” said the girl, zipping her tracksuit up, making ready to leave. “Anyway, I think you can take care of yourself.”

“Why do you want me? You don’t know me,” said Lena.

“We’ve heard about you. That’s why we wanna talk, see if you’ve got what it takes. Look, you can stay here all night and rob other people’s drinks like a pikey. It’s up to you.”

Lena looked at Tanya, her eyebrows raised like a lifting bridge.

“Go on,” said Tanya. “I’ll wait here for you.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah. Definitely.”

Lena thought for a second. “Okay, I’ll come.”

“Cool, I’m Vicks,” said the tracksuited girl.

“I’m Duff,” said the red hoodie, “and this is Seb and Mack.”

Seb and Mack didn’t say anything. They didn’t even smile, probably to preserve their hard exterior. Then he pointed to the girl and boy who were holding hands. “And those two are Liz and Si – they’re in lurve.”

“Shut up, Duff,” said Liz.

“Don’t be like that, I know you want me,” Duff said, holding his crotch.

Lena looked at Si for his reaction, to see if he’d start something with Duff for hitting on his girlfriend, but there was none. Duff was clearly the alpha of this gang.

“And the little one’s Gem,” said Vicks.

“I’m big in other ways,” he grinned. Out of all of them he looked the most dangerous. His eyes were small and too close together, like he was plotting something.

“Come on, let’s talk,” said Vicks, swiftly changing the subject.

The gang members led Lena to the front room of the flat, closing the door behind them. Tanya thought about following and listening, or putting her eye to the keyhole, but she’d seen that too many times on TV, the person always got discovered. It wouldn’t look cool. So she just sat there on the worktop feeling strange. Her best friend had been selected to join a gang and she hadn’t. She didn’t know whether to be happy or sad.

Joining a gang might make you cool or it might get you killed. She tried hard to make herself feel like it was the latter, and that she was better off where she was. Perhaps this was a lucky escape. But no matter how hard she tried she still felt like a reject.

A few guys nudged passed her, giving her the usual corny lines like “cheer up” and “might never happen.” At least she managed to bum a drink off one of them. It was an oversized beer bottle, Becks or something like that. The liquid was warm and felt like sickly treacle. She hated warm beer, but she drank it anyway.

By the time she’d sucked the last drops out of the bottle her head was lolling around like a puppet’s. She turned over on her front and eased herself off of the worktop. Then she took herself off to a dark corner like an old dog and squatted down with her back against the wall. A second later she passed out.
 

Chapter 3

Tanya came back to the real world when she felt someone trying to unpick the buttons on her jeans. She sobered up fast.

“Get the fuck off me,” she shouted. Her eyes were blurred by the alcohol and took
a while to focus. She made out the snakey shape of Tyrone who leapt off her like he’d been electrocuted.

“Sorry, sorry,” he said desperately. “I was just seeing if you were all right.”

“What, by taking my jeans off, you bloody perv.” Tanya stood up too quickly and
nearly fell straight back down again. Her head felt like it was full of porridge. Steadying herself, she gave it another go. Tyrone supported her by the arm. The second she was upright, she punched him as hard as she could. Tanya tried to follow it up with another but she moved in slow motion. Tyrone backed off clutching his bruised forearm.

“Sorry,” he said. “I’m really sorry.” The he turned and dashed out the door.

“Fucking creep!” Tanya shouted after him, the effort made her nearly fall back down again. She wanted to chase after him and make him pay but the chemical reactions in her body conspired against her. The alcohol that had been her best friend only a few hours ago was now her worst enemy. Every movement was agony. It was like having a million worms in her stomach and raw sewage in her blood. The room was a spin dryer going a thousand miles an hour and she could smell the stench of every fag butt and piss stain on the carpet.

Tanya shuffled delicately towards the door and out into the corridor. She got her bearings and made for the front door, scuffing her shoulder along the wall as she went. She had to find Lena. But the front room where she’d seen her last was now empty, apart from a few dozing spliff heads. The music still thumped away. It felt like her head was an anvil being pounded by a demented blacksmith. She had to get out. She made it to the front door and tried to open it but her fingers wouldn’t work. It was like they belonged to someone else. And she couldn’t figure out how to open the door. Was it locked or was she so pissed that it made this simple task too difficult? The harder she tried, the more frustrated she became. Her insides would explode if she didn’t leave immediately. She craved fresh air, if she could just get out it would be all right.

Tanya dragged herself back into the front room, nearly tripping over the passed-out bodies. Over by the widow lay a mangled metal chair on its side. She managed to pick it up and hurl it at the window. It simply bounced off and landed at her feet. This time she held it up to her chest like a shield with the legs pointing out and half ran, half fell through the window. It broke, sending splintered glass everywhere, but she was too drunk to notice. The sudden rush of cool, crisp night air was like medicine. She dropped the chair and climbed through the window.

She had no idea what the time was. It was still dark, but in a small corner of sky morning spilled into night. All she knew was she had to keep moving away from this place.

Tanya stumbled along the concrete walkway, trying but failing to maintain a straight line. At the top of the stairs she nearly missed the top step and was only saved by grabbing the steel handrail. The metal felt cool and reassuring. Clutching it with both hands she used it to guide her all the way down.

At ground level she staggered like a zombie, barely managing to put one foot in front of the other. The world wouldn’t stay straight, her drunken mind kept making it tilt like a fun house. Her head got worse as the witch’s brew of whiskey, beer, wine and cider put her under a nightmarish spell. The only way to make it go away was to get it out of her body. She put her fingers down her mouth, but nothing came out except saliva. The poison stayed put, prolonging her agony.

Somehow she made it to the edge of the Thames. It was cold and deserted. The only sign of life was a tiny newsagents that was open for the early morning papers. The small one-storey building was wedged in between two larger shops. Tanya remembered what the two geeks had said earlier: salt and vitamin C prevents a hangover. As if on autopilot, her legs walked her over to the newsagent. The owner eyed her cautiously. With what little money she had in her pockets she bought some ready salted crisps and a carton of orange juice.

Back out on the pavement she stuffed the crisps in her mouth and then attempted to put the little straw into the hole in the top of the cartoon. It was harder than threading a needle. Eventually she gave up, ripped the corner off with her mouth and poured the contents down her throat. A moment later it all came back up again. The mess splashed on the pavement; a vile soup of orange, chewed potato and alcohol. Tanya spat and spat again. A second convulsion shivered up her neck. She ran over to the wall beside the river where she spewed the remaining contents of her stomach into the Thames. The river now had a little more pollution in it than it did before.

Tanya stood there, both hands planted on the wall, breathing like she’d just been
strangled. Her head hung low and a long string of puke dangled from her mouth. There was no energy left to bat it away. She waited to feel better, but better never came.

Tanya groaned.

From somewhere in the middle of the river, a groan came back, like an echo. Except this one was deep and powerful, as if it had come from the centre of the earth.

Tanya’s head snapped up.

She wiped away the dribble. The alcohol, it must be the alcohol, she thought.

The moan came again. Closer this time.

Tanya jumped back. It felt like the river itself was about to open and suck her down. She swallowed hard, then wished she hadn’t. The acidic bile she’d brought up stung the back of her throat, making her wince. She felt it blaze all the way back down where it set fire to her stomach, making her want to cry. She prayed to God to take the pain away. He didn’t. But he did the next best thing and distracted her.

In the gloomy morning light, Tanya saw something out in the middle of the river. The river split open and something pushed its way up to the surface. At first she thought it was a large upturned boat. It was flattish, yet a little too bumpy to be a boat. The way it moved didn’t look right either. There was something surreal about it, freakish even. This strange shape was moving upstream against the current. She knew nothing about water, rivers or sailing, but she was smart enough to know that anything that fell into the Thames always went the other way, towards Gravesend and out to sea.

She watched the black shape pass her. Tanya began moving along the embankment, keeping pace with it. Often it would submerge for just a second and she thought she’d lost it, then it would reappear again. Was it a submarine? It looked too soft and completely the wrong shape to be anything like that. Perhaps a UFO?

She couldn’t take her eyes off it. And though her skull throbbed and her legs ached, her brain was charged with curiosity. She had to find out what it was.

An early morning jogger ipodded his way past. Tanya pointed wildly.

“Look at that. Look,” she slurred, but the sickly alcoholic fumes on her breath told him to keep running.

She looked back at the strange object. A streak of water fired up into the sky like a fountain. She knew instantly.

“It’s a whale. Oh my God, it’s a fucking whale.” Tanya laughed and jumped and clapped her hands. She turned and shouted, “It’s a whale, it’s a whale, it’s a whale.” But nobody was there to hear. Then Tanya did something that she thought she’d never do. She pulled out her mobile and called the police.