The Spiral

by Gideon Burrows

  “Exactly,” said Benny.

  “It’s my fucking phone,” said Giles. “I’m about a quarter charged.” Still, he let the phone screen grey out, go darker still before it returned to nothing.

  “Okay, we need to think about this,” said Benny. “Megan, Charles - can you hold on to something. The bannister?”

  Charles went into a coughing fit, but said “okay”.

  “The bannister?” asked Megan.

  “Megan, I’m going to turn this torch off.”

  “No, don’t please.” Giles watched her cry again, rocking forwards and backwards, digging her bruised tight fists into her chest.

  “Megan, I need to turn this light off. We need the batteries. Hold on to something and we can talk in the dark, decide what to do.”

  She nodded weakly, then with a little more force.

  “Okay, Benny,” she said.

  The torch went out, the green light of Benny’s screen faded. Back to sheer blackness.

  All Giles could hear was those two snivelling, then the even breath of Benny behind him.

  “Right, brainbox,” he said, turning his head and projecting his voice toward Benny. “Exactly what is it we’re going to do?”

  Why’s he throwing his weight around suddenly, anyway? Okay, Benny was built for it but clearly couldn’t match his brawn with his brains. Otherwise, why’s he working on a building site?

  The bloke’s a grunt, pure and simple. Someone who could haul sacks of broken bricks around, but only when someone told him to. Hell, Giles, you earn more than everyone else down here put together.

  As quietly as he could, he reached around and found the bannister himself. He pulled on it, bracing its solidity, and shook his head to get rid of the chatter in his brain.

  There was something about Benny. He’d hardly said a word since this whole thing started. Why didn’t he talk, for God’s sake? He just sat there, staring into space. He didn’t even give the impression he wanted to get out of this.

  Give him a line of coke, that’d spruce him up a bit. Put some wind in his sails. And that girl could do with something too. Lighten her up a bit too.

  Giles closed his eyelids tightly, trying to shut out the thoughts. But open or closed, it wasn’t getting any brighter down here.

  “I have an idea,” it was Charles, speaking through the darkness in almost a whisper, muffled by occasional sniffs. “I learned it in the Navy, in case the sub went dark. You see, the darkness benefits us.”

  “Oh, Charlie Boy. Nice of you to wake up and join us. Had a pleasant sleep?” said Giles.

  “You’re such a twat,” said Megan.

  Giles was taken aback by the sudden aggression from Megan. She’d been so prim and proper until now.

  “Okay, Charlie Boy! How! How on earth could this possibly be a good thing?” The question was addressed to Charles, but the sarcastic tone was meant for Megan.

  “Well, don’t you see?” Charles’ voice was clearer now, as if he’d pulled himself from his lying position and was sitting up on his step.

  “No, we don’t see,” said Giles, listening out for a laugh which didn’t come.

  Charles continued: “The darkness means if we see any light at all, even the slightest chink, well, it would show there was a light somewhere. Out there. A way out. The outline of a door. A brick loose. Even a hole or a crack would give us something to start with.

  “First rule on a sub. Don’t panic, look for your nearest exit. Where is water leaking in? Where is air pressure being lost? Those are your ways out.”

  He had a point. Maybe they were all missing something. Maybe Giles could go 200 steps up and it would get lighter up there. Light can’t go round corners, so it was possible if they continued up. Giles remembered how far they’d already gone. But maybe just a few steps more?

  Everyone sat in silence.

  “I’ll go up,” said Benny. There was no excitement in his voice. Just flatness. “I’ll see if I can see anything. I’ll go up 200 steps, no more, then come back down.”

  Charles said, “You’ll need to go up in the dark. So you miss nothing.”

  “Yes, I’ll go up in the dark. Giles, you’ve still got your phone if anything changes here.” He seemed to pause. “Giles, look after these two.”

  Giles felt patronised, but grateful that he didn’t have to climb any more steps. Was there just a little pride at being left to protect the rest? Real responsibility for a man like Giles?

  “Okay, 200 steps,” said Benny. “Ten minutes up max maybe, ten minutes down.”

  “Hey, make sure you count the steps down again,” Giles said. “Otherwise, you might kick me in the face.”

  This time Megan sniggered, and Giles saw the joke. He had been harsh just now. Then they all shared a little laugh. A slight feeling of unity as one of their members headed off into the abyss.

  Giles heard a deep sigh from behind him, then the slow clump of Benny’s boots as he headed into the darkness above, the sound of his hand edging along the bannister and pulling him up. Within a minute, there was silence again.

  Giles was uncomfortable now. He didn’t want to admit he appreciated the big man’s presence, but now he was gone? Well, maybe he did prefer him around.

  The adrenaline of being suddenly plunged into dark ebbed away, replaced only by the deep oppressive endless black all around. It was all he could do not to turn on his light. But he knew that wouldn’t be any use and would probably shine up to Benny above. He cringed to the bannister more tightly.

  “Just us then,” he said to no one in particular, to break the silence. But Charles and Megan didn’t reply, both obviously struggling to contain the same sense of helplessness and fear.

  She’s alright that Megan. Okay, a bit power suit and ambitious, but you couldn’t really fault her for that. Wasn’t that exactly how he’d been a year ago? And look where that got him: paid more, but hanging round with those idiots all day (and compulsory after-hours).

  He wished he’d stayed where he was in sales. At least he’d get home on time, could sit on the sofa, watch the football (God, even a detective series or something), eat a TV dinner instead of those tiny plates of tapas they served in La Cascada opposite the office. Food that left you so hungry you were bound to get a kebab later on.

  The thought of a kebab made his stomach rumble, but in his throat he felt sick. How could he eat that pile of gristle and offcuts, all that onion and chilli sauce? And what on earth made him think that picture - that breath afterwards - would be attractive?

  Women went for him sometimes, he reminded himself. And when they didn’t, well when you’ve got the money anything can be bought. That’s the mantra of financial trading.

  That Meg is a seven or eight at least. Go on, Giles, admit you would. Nice tight arse, out here, in that blouse.

  He imagined the hand gestures they’d make in the pub.

  Yeah, I’d have a crack if I were you. Another pint of Dutch courage, then take her over a drink. If you don’t, I will.

  Giles felt a brief stirring.

  “Alright, just to change the atmosphere here,” he said into the darkness. “You got a boyfriend Megan?” He noticed too late that he hadn’t bothered to ask Charles about his love life.

  “Not that it’s any of your business, but no,” she said. Giles felt the stirring solidify. He put his hand down, just to re-arrange things.

  “Had one lately? You know, got anyone on the go at the moment? Good-looking girl, climbing the career ladder. I reckon you’d be quite a catch.”

  “No one significant.”

  Giles thought he heard the tentativeness in her voice, as if she was trying not to give too much away. Not to commit.

  Go on, that’s an entry pass, isn’t it. Playing it coy.

  A croaky voice came out of the darkness: “I had a wife,” said Charles. “Felicity. But she’s gone now.”

  “Oh, I am sorry,” said Megan, relief in her voice, Giles thought, along with sympathy.

  �
�No, she didn’t die, just, you know, went.” There was a deep grief in his voice, Giles felt. He too felt a deep regret in his stomach just then. For things passed. The stirring in his groin disappeared.

  “She left, I’m alone. Me and my research. I do my own thing. I live a quiet life, that’s all there is to it.”

  “Charles, you’re such an intelligent man and must have made an outstanding teacher,” said Megan. “You should be proud of yourself. Hell, I’m just a secretary. You’ve seen the world. We all owe you a favour. My dad, he did nothing with his life. You? You’re ten times the man he is.”

  Giles heard Charles weep. He felt sorry for the old bastard. That and just the tiniest bit jealous.

  11

  Benny heaved himself back down the stairs and used the torch on his mobile to guide his way down the last few steps, just to make sure. Megan welcomed the break from the relentless darkness, and she blinked into the low light as it shone in her eyes. Then she watched Benny take a heavy seat, shaking his head.

  “Nothing,” she said. It wasn’t a question.

  Benny let the light on his phone fade out again.

  Megan felt the terror rising inside her, but it was a different fear. Not fear that they might all be trapped down there, starving and desperate. It was something else.

  For the last five years, Megan had been the very picture of ambition. Sharp edges and power suits. Nothing would get in her way. Now she feared it was all show. That deep down, she was already on the verge of giving up. She was going crazy down here and was afraid - no, terrified - that she just wouldn’t be able to cope.

  Cope with this. A slow wait until death.

  It was the first time she’d seriously considered the idea she might not survive this. She cried again, but it wasn’t hysterical. She tried to hide from the others her gentle sob of grief.

  A dim white light appeared and just for a second Megan’s heart leapt and she felt blood rushing again to her head. Then it died back down just as quickly with the realisation it was just Giles’ phone.

  “I’m going down,” said Giles, and the light from his phone danced around the chamber as he moved around and pulled himself up to standing.

  Megan could see Benny shaking his head again. He said: “What are you going to go down in all that…” He trailed off.

  “That piss and shit,” said Megan. Her bluntness surprised her, but she knew it was simply something other than the helplessness she had just felt. She dug her nails into her palms, trying to push that feeling of fear away again. She wouldn’t give up.

  “It won’t do any good,” said Benny. “Turn the light off, Giles. I went up as far as I could. I said two hundred steps, but I went three hundred. I got to two hundred and couldn’t bear to turn around, had to keep going just in case.”

  “Exactly, so now I’ll go down and do the same,” said Giles, taking his first steps. He held out the white glow in front of him.

  “Don’t you see?” said Benny. There was an edge of anger in his voice now. “This isn’t normal. I’ve been to bad places. I’ve seen some bad shit. But this is something else. We will not get out of here by walking up and down again and again. We have to try something else. That, or wait for someone else to find us.”

  Megan felt a shaking rising in her chest and tried to push it down again.

  The white light swung round and lit up Giles’ face. He was looking into his phone. “Look it’s 1.45am. Time’s still going, still ticking on. We can do something for ourselves.”

  Megan could hear in his tone that Giles wasn’t convinced by what he was saying.

  “Look, I don’t know, okay?” For the first time, Benny was almost shouting. There was a manic stiffness to his voice, like he was going to lash out. “But we should stick together. So, just sit down and turn off that light.”

  Giles’ phone faded out again, and another shuffle confirmed he’d sat back on his step. He let out a faint grumble. A moment passed before Benny spoke again.

  “What I do know is that I’m dead tired. I’ve just got to get some sleep. I’m hungry, I’m thirsty. My head is totally full. I need to rest and I suggest you do the same.”

  “Don’t leave me alone, Benny,” the shake in Megan’s voice had returned. Giles’ questions before had left her uncomfortable.

  “No one is going anywhere, we’re all here,” said Benny. His voice had returned to gentle. His breathing had become more reassuring. “Let’s all just sleep. We can talk about it in the morning.”

  “The morning! What does that even mean?” spat Giles. “It’s just a clock ticking. In this dark, there is no morning. There is no night, there is no day.”

  “Mate, you do what you like. Me, Megan and Charles are staying here. I’ve got to sleep.”

  Giles said nothing. There was a deep tiredness in his voice when he eventually replied. “There’s barely any battery in my phone now, anyway.”

  Megan lay down from where she sat, trying to fold her body up the next few steps above her and using her small handbag as an uncomfortable pillow.

  She should stay awake, she should think. How could she sleep with all this going on? But she had to stay in control. The slightest relaxation of concentration would have the panic rising in her again.

  Despite not wanting to, she gave in to the pulling from the depths of her whole body. She dreamed of interviews, and Tube trains, and old skirts, and daylight. The deepest sleep enveloped her.

  12

  Filthy old bugger.

  That is what they had called him at school. No pupil ever said it to his face, but he knew it was one of his nicknames. They said it in the distance behind his back, just loud enough for him to pick it up. Here comes the filthy bugger. In class, the kids sneezed loudly, but he could always hear ‘Lechy Lawrence’ in their voices behind it.

  A few of the more confident boys asked loaded questions in his history classes. The corner of their mouths turned up on one side.

  “Columbus took advantage of the native women when he arrived in the New World, didn’t he Mr Lawrence?”

  “The explorers brought some of them back on the ships, didn’t they, sir? Long journey for a bunch of men. Must have been a while since they had any company, eh, Mr Lawrence?”

  Every couple of months, Charles came into class to find a crude picture on the blackboard. A stick man, with flyaway hair, a big nose and glasses. In one hand the stick man would be holding a badly drawn magazine with boobs on the cover, in the other he would be would be holding his penis. The class sat there silent, blank looks on their faces as they stared intensely at their work. Charles rubbed the picture from the blackboard without a word.

  Things were different back then. You meant nothing by it. Maybe he brushed a little close to some girls in his class, put a hand on their backs as they filed out of the classroom. He might have been a bit too quick to lean over their shoulders to check their history timelines.

  He was the caring teacher.

  He thought about some girls around the school in that way. But only the older ones. Those who waved it in your face. Any man would. Anyway, he was happily married. It was a long time since he and Felicity had regularly got physical, but that was the same for all middle-aged couples.

  “I’m too old for that,” Felicity would laugh as she would affectionally pat him away and turn back to her magazine. There were occasional bumps in the night, but they never actually talked about sex. It was functional. Invisible.

  Rachel was the one girl who did have something special about her. She was quiet, intelligent. She had a sparkle in her eyes. She wasn’t like some of the other girls. The ones with push-up bras and makeup. The ones he would think about in bed when Felicity had turned on her side and fallen asleep.

  Rachel was appealing exactly because she wasn’t like those other girls. She was there to learn, and genuinely looked up to Charles. She seemed to be as interested in his subject as he was. She called him Sir.

  She liked him.

  He thought she
liked him. It had all been a mistake, of course. She’d asked for help with coursework at lunchtime and the class had cleared quickly. Everyone was off to watch a fight between two bruisers on the main field. The planned scrap had been the talk of the secondary school all morning.

  But Rachel was more interested in her school work. He welcomed the chance to help her. But he’d leaned in a bit too close. Put his hands where they shouldn’t have been.

  “No,” she said, and went to get out of her chair. She pushed him off with those soft pink hands - no nasty nail varnish, Charles thought - but the twinkle was still in her eyes. She had such a sweet little voice, innocent. Not common like the other girls. The way they shouted between chomps of chewing gum.

  He pushed her back down into her seat. Pushed his hands against her breast, buried his nose into the top of her head. Drew in the floral scent of her shampoo.

  “No,” she said. “No, Sir.” And that was it.

  Rachel was gone. She’d left the door swinging as she’d disappeared into the corridor.

  The next day she didn’t come into school. That afternoon, the school secretary delivered the note: could Mr Lawrence please pop in to see the head teacher during last period.

  No one mentioned Rachel, or even that Charles had done anything wrong. But it was made clear. Letchy Lawrence’s gardening leave would start tomorrow. He left angry that his career had been cut short. That he’d been thrown onto the scrap heap when he still had so much to share with his pupils.

  He knew he couldn’t fight it. He had to let it go, and become satisfied with spending more time with Felicity. Hang around until his pension came through. He’d had a good innings.

  Charles shifted his body on the steps and felt himself drifting back off to sleep. He’d been weeping since the lights went out, but really he’d done all his crying long ago.

  ‘Sorry Felicity. Sorry Rachel.’

  He’d never said it out loud to anyone, and now there was no longer anyone to say it to. His heart ached.

  Letchy Lawrence. And now it was all loneliness. The absence of everything. Not just here on the staircase, but outside, too. He heard snoring from above. He opened his eyes and peered into the blackness. Then he closed them again.