The Testament of Jessie Lamb (16 page)

‘The old ones? From before?''

‘Yeah. They might be able to vaccinate them against MDS.'

‘They can vaccinate till they're blue in the face, they're still going to have to find a new way to incubate them.'

‘What d'you mean?'

‘They're not going to be using those poor little Sleeping Beauties anymore.'

‘Why?'

She glared at me as if I was an idiot. ‘Because FLAME are going to stop them.'

‘They are?'

‘They're going to make sure no more girls get brainwashed into accepting torture and death. There's going to be a campaign targeting teenage girls, telling them how they get turned into zombies like the waking dead.'

I dug into the box and brought out some lego. A random clump of blue and red pieces were snapped onto a green base. I pulled them apart and started making them into steps, one on top of the other, overlapping. ‘Don't you think some of them are actually doing it because they want to?'

‘No,' she said. ‘Sleeping Beauties are like any other suicide. It's a cry for help.'

‘I think someone could be quite sane and decide it was worth doing.'

‘Why should women go on and on making sacrifices? The only way this will ever be sorted is when women refuse point blank to be victims.'

‘You really think that?' The steps weren't going anywhere. I dropped them back in the box.

‘If someone says, Oh my life isn't very important, I'll sacrifice it so you can have a child, what's a man going to say?
No thanks?
Each girl who agrees to be a Sleeping Beauty is making it that much worse for the rest of us.'

‘What will FLAME do when they've stopped them, all the Sleeping Beauty volunteers?'

‘We
won't do anything. We'll sit back and tell the men it's their turn to do something. Let them volunteer for something dangerous.' I thought of the drugs trial volunteers, they were nearly all men. But it was becoming a pointless conversation.

‘Will you still come to college when you live in Glossop?'

‘My mum wants me to. She knows someone who can give me a lift. But I'll see.' Everything Sal said felt like needles. I asked her about her little cousin but he still hadn't been traced. I said I had to go. ‘You should come to Glossop. Come to FLAME. You could help with getting the message across to girls at college, the crazies who might try and volunteer.'

I told her I'd think about it. As we went downstairs she said, ‘It's not the same here anymore.' The sitting room door was wide open and we both glanced in. It was clean and tidy, but I could remember how it had been that night, the take-away trays and cans and bottles, the smell. ‘I have nightmares,' she said. ‘Maybe they'll stop in a different house.'

‘Oh Sal–' At the bottom of the stairs we hugged each other and my eyes filled with tears. I wanted to say something to make her feel better and the one thing I could think of was the thing she despised. I was useless. All there was in my brain was ‘please let it end, please let it end soon.' Like a calf crammed into a cattletruck, on its way to the abattoir.

I crept down to check my e mail at 6 before Mum got up. Dad hadn't replied but I knew he would. I was giving him till tea time. I had breakfast with Mum and she told me Mand was loads better, that the carer Paul seemed to have worked a miracle. After she'd left for work I got ready for college. I was feeling as if I would burst if I didn't tell someone, but I wasn't going to tell Mum without Dad. Sal was impossible; Baz was wrapped up in his parents' troubles and Nat's stupid plans; and Dad–why didn't he reply? What if he never came back? What if we actually did have to call the police this evening? I reminded myself what I was going to do. Panic and relief, panic and relief, the two switched through me like an electric current being turned on and off.

Outside there was freezing fog, tasting of stale ice cubes in my mouth. Everything was dulled and quiet. I didn't feel like going to college. There had to be someone I could talk to, even if I didn't tell them my secret, there had to be someone I could just burble at.

I thought of Mandy. At least she was always happy to see me. And she knew about Mum's affair; I could ask her advice about Dad. I walked past the bus stop and on down to the main road, where one after another blue flashing ambulances loomed out of the fog, their sirens suddenly loud then gone. What if Dad was in one of them? I caught the bus to Mandy's.

When I got close enough to see, her curtains were still drawn although it was after 9.00. If she was so much better, surely she wouldn't be lounging about in bed? For a moment I thought I shouldn't have come. But I told myself not to be silly, and marched up and rang her bell. She must have been waiting in the hall with her hand on the doorknob, because she opened the door in an instant. Her hair was glossy black and she was wearing the heavy eye make-up I used to love on her when I was little–smoky kohl circles around her eyes and loads of mascara. She seemed pretty surprised to see me, though, and peered into the thick whiteness behind me. ‘I've come on my own,' I told her, ‘Mum's at work.'

She stood on the doorstep holding the door open for me so I went up the stairs. I could smell incense sticks burning. The place was lovely and tidy. There were candles lit in the sitting room, and soft tinkly sitar music playing. The turquoise walls seemed to glow. I wondered if she'd been meditating. Yoga was one of her few fads Mum never complained about. She followed me up into the flat.

‘Are you going out?' I asked. ‘You look fantastic!'

‘What's the time?'

‘Half nine.'

‘Well, I've got a little while. D'you want a drink?'

We went into the kitchen and she made tea. ‘So what brings you here at this time of a Thursday morning? Shouldn't you be at college?'

‘Hasn't Mum told you?'

‘Told me what?'

‘About Dad.'

She shook her head. Mum had been to see her the previous evening! I explained about the row and Dad storming out.

‘Oh Jess, I'm sorry–' She came and put her arms around me and I couldn't help it suddenly I burst into tears. She was so kind, that was what made me cry. ‘It'll be alright,' she said. ‘It'll all come out in the wash.'

I told her Dad hadn't come back and neither of us had heard from him.

‘He'll be back. Give him time to lick his wounds. He's responsible, Jess, he's not going anywhere.'

‘But I don't know what's going to happen!'

She laughed at me, but kindly. ‘Look, Cath and Joe have been here before. I remember when she found out
he'd
been seeing someone–No Jess, don't look like that–a long time ago. They have these great traumas then they kiss and make up. Everything'll be back to normal within a month.'

‘Why do they stay married if they're going to be like this?'

‘They've been together for seventeen years, d'you think they're going to leave each other now?'

‘I wish they
would
split up. It would be more honest.'

‘No you don't. If they split up you'd have to start living in two places, it would be terribly inconvenient. You need to get them into proportion. They're only your parents!'

It was hard not to take them seriously with my silent phone burning a hole in my pocket. ‘It feels like Dad's mad at me. I think he thinks I knew–' I looked at her but she didn't say anything. ‘You knew, didn't you?'

‘Jess, this is about Cath and Joe. It's no one else's responsibility, and no one else needs to feel guilty.'

I blew my nose and unpeeled the apricot chewy bar she'd given me. She always remembered my favourite. Time to stop being childish; she was right. They were only my parents, and just because they'd made a hash of everything it didn't mean I had to be part of the mix.

‘You think I should just ignore them?'

‘Of course. Think of them as squabbling kids–they'll get over it. And haven't you got something much more important to think about?'

I bit my tongue in mid-chew. How did she know? I tasted blood. When I could, I nodded.

‘Well there you are. Focus on
you
. When you're a teenager your parents should be the chorus–around, in support, but not centre stage–not hogging the limelight. That's for you!'

She knew. It must be because of wanting so much to have a baby herself. We sat and grinned at each other, then Mand glanced at her watch. ‘Jess, you'll have to go, I've got to get ready.'

‘Who's the big date?' I asked.

‘Oh it's not a person–what gave you that idea? It's a meeting, I have to go to a meeting.' She led the way out of the kitchen. It was always horrid leaving the bright colours of her flat and going down into the dingy-ness of the hall. The downstairs tenants had brown doors, painted in streaky paint to look like wood.

‘What's it about?'

‘Look Jess I'll tell you later, OK?' She was already opening the door. ‘You'll be the first to know. But don't tell Cath you've seen me today, please.'

‘I won't. And don't you tell her–you know.'

Mand nodded. She pecked me on both cheeks and quickly closed the door after me as if she was afraid something in the street might try to dash in.

As I walked away an approaching shape became a man who said ‘hello' and I realised it was Paul, the nurse Mum had organised to look after Mandy. His hair was wet and combed back, he must've just washed it, he looked a bit like a friendly seal. She's going to be cross, I thought. Another interruption! I turned round to see if she would answer the door. He went towards the entrance then the building seemed to swallow him; in the fog, everything merged. I heard Mandy's door shut with a muffled bang. Maybe he was taking her to the meeting.

As I walked along I couldn't stop smiling to myself. I felt as if she'd given me her blessing. She understood. She must know I was doing it for her as well. She recognised that that was more important than any of Mum and Dad's nonsense. She was happy for me! I could see the white disc of the sun now, peering through the foggy air. Mand was the first person and the best to know my secret.

On the slowly crawling bus I checked my mobile. Not just one text but two! But the first was o2 telling me about my rewards and the second was Baz. I reminded myself that Dad would certainly reply by e mail. Baz wanted to know where I was, and when I told him, asked me to get off near his road and he'd meet me. So I did, and soon enough his blurry outline became visible, and he materialised in front of me.

‘They're OK! No one's hurt!'

‘What are you on about?'

‘Nat and the others. They were all out.'

Apparently it had been on the news; two houses in Chester had exploded, and been reduced to rubble. They were where Nat and his ALF mates were staying. We headed for Baz's as he explained it all to me. They'd been working with explosives.

‘Why?' I asked, and Baz looked at me pityingly.

‘Why d'you think?'

‘Bombs?'

‘How else are they going to get anyone to pay attention?'

I knew they were serious, but–bombs! Baz told me something was unstable because it went off unexpectedly and it was pure luck no one was in. He had been petrified when he heard the news.

‘I wouldn't even have known it was their house,' I pointed out. ‘Do the police know it was them?'

‘The house was rented under false names. So provided everything was destroyed in the blast–' He let us into his house, it smelled of bleach.

‘Is your dad still at hospital?'

‘That's the good news. They've moved him to some sort of residential place for nutters, and they're going to keep him there long-term.'

‘Is your mum OK with that?'

‘Ish. She knows it'd be awful if he came home. She's doing a lot of cleaning. But she's going back to work next week, thank god.'

We went downstairs to Baz's room and he sat at the piano and played a happy triumphant little series of trills. I took off my coat and sat on the bed. ‘So what will you do now?' I asked.

‘What I planned. Go down and help Nat. He rang to say they were OK, but they need help more than ever now. They've got to move fast in case the police trace them. They're posting their film up on the net.'

‘Film of the animals?'

‘Yup. He reckons there'll be a big fuss. They're planning simultaneous demonstrations, and they need help with the internet stuff. I said I'd go tomorrow.'

‘Wow. Tomorrow.'

‘Yup.'

‘So–goodbye.'

‘Only for a bit. Jessie?' He was staring intently at the piano keys.

I waited, then I said, ‘What?'

The silence was long. My heart turned into a feather and floated up though my hollow chest, almost to my throat. ‘D'you think…?' His eye-beams were practically boring a hole in the keys.