by S Williams
All that can be heard in the room is the dying music of Joy Division and the guttering sigh of the candle.
Mouse turns and looks at Jamie, disgust peppering her gaze. ‘You put spy cams in the rooms?’
‘And then posted them online; various spaces on the dark web go bananas for that sort of thing.’ Athene’s voice is quiet.
‘I don’t know what you’re talking about,’ Jamie mutters, but he can’t meet anybody’s eyes. Trent steps a little away from him, as if he were toxic. Athene stands up, startling them. The motion is fluid, elegant. One second she was on the floor, the next standing, legs apart, leaning forward.
‘You know, when I turned eighteen and found out who I was, I was so excited. All my life I’d felt disconnected. Then I was told I had this whole other history! I thought I’d discover a whole past to explore, like walking through the wardrobe and entering Narnia. But what did I find instead?’ She pointed down at the diaries. ‘Murder and betrayal and a sister who was so twisted out of shape until she was screaming inside.’
‘It wasn’t like that, Martha,’ whispers Mouse.
Athene looks at her, and Mouse is shocked to see pity in her eyes.
‘Maybe not, but that’s how it ended up, isn’t it? With murder and hidden love and abuse.’
Mouse opens her mouth, but no sound comes out.
‘And rape.’ Athene edges a diary forward with her foot, sliding it across the floor. Mouse stares at it. She feels Trent’s grip on her arm, steadying her.
‘Rape?’ she whispers.
‘Bella wrote it down. He raped me, Mouse. This is dated two weeks before she died.’
Mouse feels Trent’s fingers tightening.
‘And this. Time to run away, Heathcliff. I’m pregnant.’ Athene cocks an eye at Trent. ‘Heathcliff. That’s you, right?’
Mouse opens her mouth, but nothing comes out. Her voice has been stolen.
‘Fucking hell,’ Jamie says softly.
‘Quite,’ Athene says. ‘Not only was Bella raped, but she was pregnant with a rape-baby when she was in the crash. If Bella hadn’t died, I wouldn’t have been surprised if she’d killed herself, the pressure she was under.’
Mouse tries to pull away from Trent, but the grip on her arm is iron.
‘She was pregnant?’ he says. His voice is full of treacle and knives.
‘With your baby,’ Athene nods. ‘The baby you forced into her. Maybe she told you in the car. Maybe that’s why you crashed. To kill her and your baby.’
‘This is too much,’ Jamie says hoarsely. ‘I’m out of here, Martha. Whatever revenge you’re doing here I’m not part of it. Yes, I gave them drugs, but I never forced anyone to take them. Pathetically, I thought it would make them like me.’
‘Stay where you are, Jamie. At the moment this is just me trying to understand a tragedy. Don’t make me turn it official.’ Athene’s voice is steel.
Jamie tenses, considering leaving anyway, but then seems to deflate, his shoulders dipping. He nods once, slowly.
‘I never knew she was pregnant. She never told me.’ Trent sighs. He is swaying, but his grip on Mouse’s arm is locked.
Athene turns back to look at Trent, her voice hard. ‘Why would she? Why would she tell the person who raped her what they’d done? You’d be the last person she’d tell.’
‘I didn’t rape her.’
Athene snorts.
Trent turns to Mouse, his eyes on fire with grief.
‘Let go of me!’ she hisses. She doesn’t want to be near him, doesn’t want to be touched by him.
‘It wasn’t me! Remember when we slept together? Remember I told you I wasn’t father material?’
Mouse struggles to break herself from his grasp, nausea uncurling itself from her stomach, but he just pulls her harder, his face only inches from hers.
‘I could see in your eyes that you thought it was a shitty thing to say; that you thought I was being a bastard, but it wasn’t that. I couldn’t tell you. I felt so ashamed and I couldn’t handle anything. All I could do was make some smart comment, and leave.’
She stares at him, seeing the desolation in his eyes, in the frame of him, like he is clothes on the wrong hanger.
‘What are you saying to me?’ she half shouts, half whispers.
‘It was because I can’t have children, Mouse! That’s why I’m not father material! My dad–’ he spat the word out, ‘beat me so badly when I was young he damaged me! Kicked me so hard he fucked up my balls; did something to me inside that meant my sperm was dead. I can’t have children, Mouse. Bella’s baby wasn’t mine!’
Mouse stops struggling, seeing the truth in Trent’s eyes. She shakes her head in confusion.
‘But she wrote…’
‘She wrote she’d been raped, yes, but it wasn’t me. And she never told me she was pregnant.’
He wipes his face with his hand, smearing snot and tears across his waxy skin. Then he looks at Athene.
‘When I was young, my dad used to… make me do things.’
Mouse looks at him. The pain and sorrow that must have always been living just beneath the surface, but she had never seen. She shakes her head, feeling a well open up; how she’d failed both Trent and Bella. Trent watches her, and shrugs, perhaps thinking she doesn’t believe him.
‘Ask Jamie. He saw it once. Came into my room and saw my dad…’
‘I didn’t mean to…’ Jamie whispers, in shadows at the back of the room.
Trent turns to face Athene. ‘I never raped her. I was a shit boyfriend, and I cheated on her with Mouse, but I never raped your sister.’
Athene stares at him a long beat, then sighs. ‘I believe you.’
Trent nods. ‘Thank you. I loved Bella. She was beautiful and messed up, and I couldn’t be who she wanted me to be while she was alive and I’m sorrier than you can ever know.’
‘I know you are. She wrote about you all the time in her diaries. She loved you, even though she knew you were in love with Mouse.’
Trent stares at her, saying nothing.
‘What?’ Mouse whispers.
‘She knew?’ Trent’s face is a patchwork of sorrow.
Athene nods. ‘She tried to shape you, and you tried to be Heathcliff for her, but she knew it was an act. She knew you were just like her. That’s why she asked you.’
Trent blinks.
‘Just like her?’ Mouse looks from Athene to Trent. ‘What the fuck does that mean?’
Trent looks at Mouse. ‘It means I didn’t rape Bella, Mouse.’ He sighs and swallows, like he’s swallowing a bag of hurt. ‘But I know who did.’
The room seems to suck itself in, the air becoming hard to find. Mouse looks at Trent, then at Jamie. Jamie shakes his head, back and forth, his eyes never leaving Mouse’s.
‘I didn’t,’ he whispers. ‘I never touched her. I just photographed…’
‘Not Jamie,’ says Trent. ‘Her father. Bella’s father raped her. She told me the night she died.’
68
Bella’s Last Day: Just Before the Crash
‘I’ve got something I need to tell you.’
Bella’s arm was wrapped around Trent, and she was leaning into him, whispering in his ear. Mouse was semi-conscious in the back and Bella turned the music low. He was only half listening, his altercation with Jamie still playing in his head. Between the conversation, the drugs and Bella shrouding him like girl-mist, it was hard to negotiate the road. The car was slipping and sliding like it had a will of its own. He should really slow down, but he was too fired up. He thought he’d shut Jamie down with the beating, but all it had done was open him up. Trent risked a glance in the mirror at Mouse. She had her eyes closed and a half bottle of gin in her hand. Bella’s tape was playing on the stereo, and she seemed to be lost in the music, a small smile playing on her lips. He wondered what she was thinking about.
‘I don’t want you to say anything, I just need you to listen,’ whispered Bella in his ear.
He’d seen Mouse dancing with Bella i
n the bar, dancing like they were the only people in the world. He felt sick inside as he drove. Was Bella playing with him? Jamie had said he’d given the picture to her, so Bella must know about him and Mouse. Or at least must know that they slept together. She wouldn’t know about what he really felt, of course. What he’d felt ever since the first day he’d seen Mouse, watching the water in the beck like it knew a secret. He’d always hidden that. Not even Mouse knew that. Trent smiled. It was good that she’d closed him down; told him where to go. He was nothing but bad news on burnt paper. Damaged goods. Broken bottles.
‘I want you to know that I’m sorry.’
Bella finally penetrated his thoughts. He started to ask her what she meant, but she put her hand over his mouth. Not hard, but gently, her finger across his lips, like he was a child. She pushed gently, parting them and slipping her finger inside, rubbing it over his gums. The action reignited the speed that he spread there himself before they left, and he felt his head disconnecting as the drug took hold. He concentrated on keeping the car in the middle of the road. It had begun to snow again. Bella’s voice in his ear was barely above the sound in his own head, slow and cold, seeping its way into him.
‘I’m sorry for what happened to you. I’m sorry for what he made you do. What he made you feel.’
Trent felt an iciness fill him. Involuntarily, he clenched his teeth, breaking the skin on Bella’s finger. She didn’t cry out as he tasted her blood, only continued calmly whispering in his ear.
‘Jamie told me. He told me when he gave me the picture, but I already knew. I knew the first time I saw you.’
Trent tried to push her finger out of his mouth with his tongue. She had his arm trapped around her, pinned to the back of the seat with the push of her body, and he was too wasted to take his other arm off the wheel and push her away. He felt a rush of shame as an image of his father flashed across his mind; shame about what he and Mouse had done behind her back, and hatred for Jamie for telling her his secret.
‘I already knew because I recognised the shadow that clung to you. I recognised it because I’m the same. It happened to me, too, Trent. That’s why I chose you.’
Trent’s eyes widened. He tried to turn but Bella’s grip on his mouth was too tight, keeping him staring straight ahead.
‘What are you–?’ he began, but then stopped as Bella spoke, ticking out the truth in word-bombs.
‘My father started abusing me before I could even walk, Trent. He used to make me hold his cock while he tickled me. Like it was a game. Like it was fun. Before I knew that what he was doing was wrong.’ She kissed his ear. ‘Except I always knew it was wrong; deep down. We do, don’t we? And as I got older and he told me about secrets it was like a little wall built around my heart.’
Trent stared straight ahead. The snow coming down seemed to twist into a curving tunnel. If only he could concentrate on that, he thought, he might be able to stop the high whine inside his head. Bella’s voice continued, snaking down through his ear and wrapping itself around his heart, squeezing it.
‘And when people started noticing, we moved here, and for the first time my door had a lock on it, and I had the twisted trees that could survive anything. My ghost forest. I saw the trees and knew I was like them. That no matter what, I would survive. And then I met Mouse.’
‘Bella, I–’
She put her bleeding finger on his lip again.
‘Shh. Let me finish. I think I was in love with Mouse from the very first day. And no matter how much I tried to push her away, I tried to pull her into me as well. I did what I could; never had her over for sleepovers. Never left her alone with him. Tried to make her hate me and leave, even, but none of it worked. We were stuck with each other. And then you came.’
The song ended, and the opening guitar throb of The Clash began.
‘From the first time I saw you I knew you were the one. I knew you’d understand. Even though I couldn’t tell you I knew that deep down you would know. Because you’re the same. I knew you’d understand about the hiding. About the touching. About the hate and blame and having to let the pressure out by any way you can.’
The tears that fell from Trent’s eyes, blurring the road, were so heavy and hard and tight they felt like they cut him as they came out. How could he not have noticed? How could he not have cared enough to see what was happening to her?
Because he was so busy covering up, he realised. Building his own armour, making sure nobody ever got close or looked too carefully.
‘Knew I was the one for what?’ was all he managed to say.
‘To burn down my house,’ she whispered, stroking his cheek.
Trent’s hands felt like putty; he could barely grip the steering wheel, let alone drive in a straight line.
‘My father used to make me do things to him, but now he does things to me. He raped me, Trent. He raped me so deep and so hard that all I want to do is die. And even though he’s not here in this car with us he’s still raping me because I can’t turn it off. In here.’ She stroked Trent’s head while Joe Strummer sang about how if a person was so bad they shouldn’t exist.
‘Every time I close my eyes I feel his hands, scraping on my skin like it’s the wrapper on a sweet. Even when they’re open I think I can see him, just out of view. I see his hungry eyes ripping me. Tearing at me strip by strip. I left Mouse that night in the bar and he finally ate my soul, Trent. I can’t do it anymore. I’m going to leave. Tonight. With Mouse. We’re old enough now that they can’t make us come back. I want you to drive us far away.’
She leant in and kissed the side of his mouth, his cheek, then put her lips back up to his ear.
‘And then I want you to come back and burn down Blea Fell. Once we’re safe I’m going to phone the police and tell them what he did; get them arrested so the house will be deserted.’
‘How? Why will they believe–’
Controlling the car was like trying to steer slush.
‘I left evidence. Martha…’ Bella stopped speaking, as if her tongue had run away. ‘Martha needs to be taken somewhere safe,’ she finally finished.
‘But what about your mum? Where will she go?’
‘My mum?’ Bella’s voice was a mixture of wonder and sadness: silk floating down a river of warm oil. ‘She knew, Trent. She knew and didn’t do anything. I’ll tell you where my mum can go. Where they can both go.’
Mouse mumbled something from the back. Bella turned round and smiled at her, hoping her love could be seen through the pain and the drugs and the enormity of what was about to happen. She grinned, cranked the speaker back up, and said where her mum could go, repeating the words Joe Strummer had just spoken. ‘Straight to hell.’
She smiled at Mouse, then turned back, and everything went wrong. Everything sped up and slowed down at the same time and it all went where The Clash said it would.
Straight to hell…
69
Bella’s Room
‘When I lost control she grabbed the wheel; tried to get us back on the road. Between everything I’d put inside me; all the drink and drugs, plus what she’d just told me, I think I must have phased out.’
Trent looks between Mouse and Jamie, his eyes dark pools, begging them to understand.
‘But it was no good; the road was too icy. She spun the wheel but nothing happened; we just kept going, sliding off the road and… you know the rest.’
He turns away from Mouse’s stare, unable to meet her eyes. Instead he faces Athene.
‘I’m so sorry, Martha. It was my fault. I should have protected her. I should have known…’ His voice breaks. ‘I should have been a better person. I can understand why you want revenge but it shouldn’t be over her death. That was just a stupid accident.’
‘But on the plus side you did what she asked.’ Athene’s voice is light, but her eyes are neutron stars; heavier than heavy. ‘You burned down Blea Fell, like she wanted. You killed our father. You revenged her.’
Trent nods, he
avy and slow.
‘It didn’t bring her back, though, did it?’
That truth hangs in the air. The last notes of The Clash fade out.
‘At least we all finally know,’ Jamie says quietly. ‘Maybe now it can be buried, yeah?’
Jamie’s talking to Athene, but he’s looking at Trent.
Mouse thinks she can see the boy in him. ‘I can’t believe I never knew.’ Mouse’s voice is quiet, guttering like the candles.
‘You couldn’t. None of us could; she was too good,’ said Trent, still looking at Athene, but talking to Mouse.
‘What do you mean?’
‘She was too good at being Bella. Your Bella. My Bella. Compartmentalising herself so she could survive. Hiding within herself.’
‘But why didn’t she tell? I would have run away with her! I wanted to! I was going to! Before that last night. I always wanted to run away with her, and then on that dance floor she finally asked me. I couldn’t have been happier.’ Mary sniffs hard, sucking back snot and tears. ‘I was so happy I thought I’d die from it.’ She catches her breath, realising what she has said.
‘Why didn’t she tell me?’ she finishes softly. ‘Why didn’t she tell anyone?’
The music has ended, and the only sound was the crackle of the candles. Mouse wonders what will happen now. Now that Martha knew the truth. There really wasn’t anything left to revenge, was there?
‘You didn’t, though, did you, Mouse? You didn’t tell anyone.’
The words are spoken softly; calmly. Mouse turns slowly around and looks at Athene. The girl is staring at her, her head tilted to one side, like she’s trying to work out a crossword clue.
‘What do you mean?’
‘When Jamie raped you. You didn’t tell anyone, did you? Not even Bella.’
The silence that follows her words seems to be driven by a truck, slamming into the room and filling up the space.
‘Hang on a minute. It wasn’t rape! We were both fucked-up on drugs!’ Jamie says, but there’s a slight pleading edge to his voice, like it’s slipped on a cliff path.