Читать книгу Blood RED - Paul Kane - Страница 15

CHAPTER FIVE

The ringing woke her up.

Not all at once, just bits of her. She experimentally moved her head—though not too much as she feared it might come off her shoulders and roll across the bed. Rachael couldn’t work out at first whether the ringing was coming from inside or outside her skull. Then she realised it was the phone out there in the living room; she’d forgotten to close her bedroom door, which usually did a good job of blocking out the noise if she wanted it to.

Groaning, she clambered from the bed—still wearing her clothes from last night, she noted—and half-crawled, half staggered to the phone, which she finally answered, if only to shut the blasted thing up.

“Rachael?” said a voice.

“Who ... who is this?” she spluttered. Her mouth felt like something had crawled into it and died. Then decomposed rapidly.

“What do you mean ‘who is this’? It’s your mother! And I’ve rung twice already today.”

“Mum? Mum, can you keep your voice down a bit—I’m feeling kind of fragile this morning.”

“Morning? Better check your watch, Rachael.”

She looked down at her wrist but couldn’t focus, then stared up at the clock on the wall—until the hands and numbers began to make sense. “Jesus,” she said. “Is that really the time?”

“Yes it is, and don’t blaspheme.”

“Sorry, Mum.” Her mother, the born again Christian.

“So ...”

Rachael shrugged, then realised her mother couldn’t see her. “So, what’s up?”

“You forgot to ring—not that I’m surprised. You’d forget your head if it wasn’t attached.”

I’m not so sure it is right now, thought Rachael. But at least that explained why her mother was on the phone. She’d made a promise when she left home to ring on the first Saturday of every month. Today was Saturday the 2nd. Rachael tried to access her mental ‘to do’ list, but couldn’t bring it up.

“I knew this would happen when you moved away,” her mother continued, voice growing louder. “Knew you’d forget all about your poor old mum! I expect you were out gallivanting last night with what’s-his-name?”

“Mum, I wouldn’t know how to gallivant if someone gave me lessons.” But the mention of Mike’s name—or even the absence of it—brought back the events of last night with a vengeance. Rachael went very quiet.

“Are you still there?” asked her mother.

“Yes.”

“I was worried, Rachael. I thought something had happened to you.” And yes, there behind the anger was that familiar concern in her voice.

“Like what, Mum? I keep telling you I’m fine.”

“The city’s not a safe place. You read all sorts in the papers, see things on the news ...”

“I’m fine,” repeated Rachael, rubbing her head. Nothing a few aspirins wouldn’t fix, anyway.

“Fights and gangs and—”

“Mum, there’s nothing ...” Rachael paused. In the last day, she’d seen both a fight and a gang lurking around Handley Crescent, if you could call two youths a ‘gang’. She couldn’t lie to her mother, but at the same time she didn’t want her sitting up all night thinking that her daughter was lying somewhere in a pool of blood. “Look, I’m okay, really. Are you going to stop worrying now?”

“I’ll stop worrying when you come to live back here,” her mother said. It was a standard catchphrase. Ever since Rachael announced that she wanted to move to the city where there was more chance of an acting job (although, so far, that had amounted to a few bit parts in amateur productions, much to her mother’s delight) it had been the same old story. Her other standard was, “I wish I’d never paid for those acting lessons when you were at school now.”

“Mum, you know I can’t come back.”

“You’ve changed a lot, you know,” said her mother with a certain amount of sadness. “You’re not my little girl anymore.”

“I haven’t been your little girl for a few years,” Rachael told her. She hadn’t intended to cause hurt, just to point out that she was a grown woman now, trying to make her way in the world, to make something of herself. But she hadn’t been able to keep the harshness out of her voice.

“Rachael Elizabeth Daniels, I will not be spoken to like that!”

“I’m sorry,” said Rachael, and she meant it. “Look, can I ring you back tomorrow, Mum? This really isn’t a good time.”

“It never is,” came the reply. “You spend your days caring for complete strangers, but when it comes to your own flesh and blood ...”

“That’s not fair, Mum.”

There was silence at the other end of the line. “I’ll talk to you tomorrow then, when you’re feeling better.”

They said their goodbyes and Rachael knew that the next time they spoke, they’d both apologise and her mum would have calmed down. But over that one subject, they’d never see eye-to-eye. Rachael had been the only thing in her life, and she’d left her alone—that was how her mum saw it. And the thing was, she was probably right.

Rachael put the phone down and took a couple of steps. It felt like someone had kicked her all over, but right now they were still kicking her in the head. Aspirin, she repeated to herself, and managed to make it through into the kitchen. She opened up the cupboard where she kept her medicines and reached around for the pack of aspirins in there. Her hands found a foreign object, a paper bag with a green cross on the front. Delving inside, she found two big boxes, tablets with labels on the side. Squinting, because reading was still pretty difficult, she read the name: Miss Matilda Brindle.

Oh shit! Shit, shit, shit and shit!

Rachael slapped her head, which did little to help with the mounting migraine. There’d been something missing off that mental list yesterday, hadn’t there? Rachael had picked up Tilly’s new prescription the other day, but had completely forgotten to give the pills to her. She’d never last the weekend ... If only Tilly had reminded her.

If your mind had been on the job, Rachael, instead of other things ... she said to herself. I know, I know!

The question now was, what was she going to do about it? Well, there was no choice really, was there? Tilly’s words yesterday wafted through her brain: You know you’re like family to me, young Rachael. Always worrying, always there when I need you.

She’d have to make the trek to drop them off, that’s all. Rachael thought about the time again. If she was going to go, she’d have to leave soon—but there would be no way she’d beat the dark on the way back. That place was bad enough when it was light.

Tilly has to live there all the time, she reminded herself. What’s worse, facing that or letting Tilly down? Christ, what if something happened to her trying to get to bed? How would you ever live with yourself then? All because of your stupid useless memory, Rachael!

She reached into the cupboard again and found the aspirins, taking two and hoping they killed the bongos playing in her head. A quick shower and get changed, that was the next step ...

What was that she’d just been saying to her mother? I’m fine. But all she could hear now were her mum’s words: The city’s not safe.

The city’s not safe.

* * *

As she left her block of flats, he was out there waiting for her. The last person in the world she wanted to see today.

Rachael crossed the road to avoid him, but it was obvious he’d been waiting there some time and wasn’t about to give up that easily.

“Rachael,” Mike called out. “Rachael, wait!”

She ignored him.

“Rachael, just hold on a second.” Mike ran after her, grabbing her by the arm.

“Take your hands off me,” she told him, spinning round. A couple walking past looked in their direction. Mike held his palms up and backed off a couple of paces.

“I was just trying to get you to listen.”

“Like last night? Is that your answer to everything?”

Mike looked down. “I’m sorry.” And he genuinely meant it, she could see that; for just a moment, she saw the old Mike in there again, the one she’d spent so many happy hours with. “I didn’t intend to cause a scene last night, I just wanted to talk to you, y’know? Then when I saw you laughing with ...”

“Will,” she said. “His name was Will.”

“I just lost it ... It’s only because I still care about you, Rachael.”

“You don’t go around kissing other women if you care about someone,” she snapped. “And now you know how it feels.”

Mike frowned. “Is that why you were doing it, to get back at me?”

“I didn’t even know you were going to be there!”

“Right, yeah. I’m sorry. But you went out ...”

“What, so I’ve got to stay indoors now just because we’ve split—become a nun, is that it?”

“Of course not, it’s just—”

“Look.” She glanced at her watch, seeing the time all too clearly now. “I’m not having the best of days, again. I’m hungover, I’ve just had words with my mum, and now I’ve got to go halfway across the city on the bus to deliver a prescription.”

Mike scratched his head. “A prescription?”

“Yes!” she shouted, then immediately regretted it—her head was still pounding. “Tilly Brindle’s—the old lady on my round I told you about, remember? On the Greenham Estate?”

“Why’ve you got to take it now?”

“Because I forgot before, because of what’s been going on with—” She shut up before any more words tumbled out.

“Because of you and me,” Mike finished for her. “I’m sorry.”

She sighed. “I’m sorry too. Now, Mike, I’ve really got to get going—I have to get to Handley Crescent and back before it gets dark.”

“You’ve no chance. Let me come with you.”

Rachael shook her head. “I don’t think so, Mike. Just go home, yeah? Go home.”

He looked for a second like he was going to say something else. Then he just nodded and turned away from her, as if he could tell there was no point in trying to change her mind. No point in trying to get her back. The trust was gone, it had been since the moment she’d seen him with another woman. Rachael watched him walk away for a moment, then turned.

It was time to go.

* * *

He could imagine what she’d be thinking.

There he goes, rejected—walking off with a sad puppy dog expression on his face because he knows it’s over, really over now.

She couldn’t be more wrong. Not about it being over, no—it was definitely that. About the sad look.

Mike was smiling: grinning from ear to ear, in fact.

The wait had been worth it. It had been a long shot thinking that she might forgive her ex-boyfriend, but he’d still walked away with more information—having played his part to perfection again. Now he knew exactly where she was heading, and it gave him the perfect opportunity.

Wasn’t wise to be out walking these streets at that hour, whatever the reason. And he aimed to take full advantage.

Because he was oh so hungry tonight.