By this time too, Dominic has managed to cut away some of the box. It means that I’m not feeling quite so encased or claustrophobic, but it also means that the entire street has a great view of my underwear. So I’m now sitting on Leo’s doorstep, in gift wrapping and my smalls, framed by a cardboard cut-out sculpture. The rubber-neckers all crane to get a better view. The only person who isn’t anywhere in sight is, of course, Leo.
Half a dozen fire-fighters – all male, all built like brick outhouses and all smirking – make their way up the steps to the flat. They come armed with a selection of axes and cutting tools and other things that look like instruments of torture which I really hope they won’t need. I wonder if any of them are friends of Caron’s brother. I sincerely hope not. All those hunky men to hand and look at the state of me. Why can’t I have something dignified wrong with me that needs a sensible, life-threatening rescue, instead of having Superglued myself into a box? I huddle into myself and pretend that I’m somewhere else, while Dominic kindly explains what has happened.
A couple of the burliest fire-fighters grab hold of the box and start trying to prise me from it.
‘Aargh!’ I cry out again. I shrink away from them and somehow the button on my MISS FUNNY FANNY thong gets pressed and my underwear starts to giggle maniacally.
The fire-fighters join in. So does Dominic. I want to die. I wish I’d just given up and suffocated in my box.
When the thong has ceased giggling, the laughter finally dies down and the fire-fighters stop rolling about on the ground. The men try to compose their faces into suitably serious expressions and turn their attention back to me.
‘I think we need to call for an ambulance, miss,’ one of the fire-fighters informs me.
‘I don’t think that will be necessary,’ I say.
‘That Superglue is terrible stuff.’ He rubs his chin in a considered fashion. I think he might be trying to wipe the smile off his face. ‘They’ll be able to get it off in Accident and Emergency without you having to part with your skin.’
‘Please, please,’ I beg. ‘Don’t take me to hospital. Just get one of your axes and cut my arms and legs off instead. I’ll be fine.’
‘What you need is a little bit of solvent and it will be all over.’
‘I don’t . . .’ I start to protest. My eyes fill with tears. ‘I don’t think I could bear it.’
‘Trust me,’ the fire-fighter says, holding up a hand to quiet me. ‘It’ll be for the best. A lot less painful. Your boyfriend can ride in the ambulance with you,’ he goes on, nodding towards Dominic.
‘That’s not my boyfriend,’ I say, and then give up. They’re much more interested in my taste in underwear to bother themselves with my taste in men.
The fire-fighter wanders off, presumably to call for an ambulance – which is a shame because a ride in a fire engine might have offered some sort of compensation for my suffering.
‘Do you want me to go and make you a cup of tea?’ Dominic asks.
‘I’m fine, thanks.’ I’m desperate for a cup of tea, but I’m even more desperate to go to the loo and I’m not sure how I’m going to manage that with my knickers glued to my backside.
My rescuer sits down on the step next to me and I notice that he angles himself between me and the crowd, so that not all of the neighbours can get an eyeful of my lingerie. Which is very thoughtful. He’s been really nice to me even though he hasn’t been able to fully liberate me. ‘I’m quite happy to come with you in the ambulance,’ Dominic says.
‘Won’t Lydia be worried about where you are?’
Dominic shakes his head. ‘She left me,’ he explains with a shrug. ‘A few weeks ago. Went off with someone from work.’
Suddenly, I notice that he looks tired and pale. ‘I’m sorry to hear that,’ I say. ‘It happens.’
‘I didn’t think of posting myself to her in a box,’ Dominic confesses. ‘I’ve just been at home trying to drown my sorrows with passable red wine. This shows great ingenuity.’
‘It shows great stupidity.’
Dominic laughs. ‘This is more the sort of thing that I can imagine Leo doing,’ he says. ‘You always seemed more – well . . . reserved.’
‘I wanted to break out of my box.’ We both smile ruefully at my choice of metaphor. ‘I thought Leo would like this. Instead, I’m sitting here covered in Superglue while he is off somewhere – who knows where – probably having a great time.’
‘Leo’s a lot of fun,’ Dominic says. ‘I wish I could be more like him. While the rest of us are burdened by responsibility, Leo has always managed to remain childlike.’
‘Childish,’ I correct.
At that moment, the crowd parts and the ambulance arrives. I let out a weary exhalation. ‘Let the next part of the fun commence,’ I state.
‘I will come with you. If you want me to.’
‘I’d like that,’ I say. ‘You’re very kind.’
‘I was going to watch the football this evening,’ Dominic admits. ‘This is much more interesting.’
Oh, I’m so happy that I’ve been able to provide him with an entertaining distraction.
Two paramedics get out of the ambulance and go over to talk to the fire-fighters who, with a cheery wave to me, then jump back into their fire engines and drive away. I can imagine that I’ll be the talk of the station room for some time to come
‘I’ll go and get you some clothes for later,’ Dominic says. He nips up the stairs and disappears into the flats.
The paramedics come over to me and, after taking in my underwear, also fall about in a fit of giggles. Just wait until they move me and set off my chuckling knickers again, I think miserably.
Dominic returns with a small holdall.
‘We’ll lift you and what remains of the box into the ambulance,’ one of the paramedics says.
Dominic smiles at me and, putting his hand on my shoulder, says, ‘Nearly over.’
He really is very sweet. I let my head fall back against the remains of the box. Just then, a truck with LONDON LIVE emblazoned on the side pulls up and a television crew leap out. Nearly over, it seems, but not quite. It looks as if I’m going to be on the evening news in my underwear. Oh good.
The reporter sprints over to me. Hot on her heels is a burly cameraman and a sound engineer with one of those big, furry boom things. ‘How are you feeling?’ She pushes her microphone into my face. ‘Why are you doing this? Is it a protest against something? Who glued you into the box?’
‘No comment,’ I say. If I could get one of my arms free, I might punch her.
Dominic does his best to shield me from their attention.
‘Just relax,’ one of the paramedics advises me. And then they both hoist me into the air with a chorus of inelegant grunts and edge their way through the crowd, with the reporter in tow. Whereupon my underwear sees fit to burst into life once more and giggles hysterically all the way to the ambulance.
Chapter Sixty-Five
Grant was standing on the hard shoulder. The youngest and stroppiest policeman was making him blow into a breathalyser bag. Thankfully, Grant hadn’t touched a drop of booze today – yet. But no doubt they would make up for that omission later on tonight.
Lard and Leo were looking sheepish in the car. They had no idea what to do and time was marching on. Isobel’s eyes flickered open.
‘We are in big trouble,’ Leo told her, whispering urgently. ‘The police have stopped us. Isn’t there anything you can do?’
Her eyes were dilated black circles. She looked as if she’d been doing some heavy drugs.
‘Where’s your wand?’ he asked. ‘What about if I wave and you tell me what to say?’
She opened her mouth, but she hadn’t the energy to speak. This was not a good place to be.
‘Isobel, please try,’ Leo urged. ‘Please try. Otherwise we’re stuffed.’
The policeman came back towards Ethel, and Grant followed him. The young man leaned into the car and took in the sight of Isobel d
raped across Leo’s lap. ‘Is she all right?’ he asked.
‘No,’ Leo said. ‘She’s very ill. We’re trying to save her.’
‘Miss?’ the policeman said. ‘Miss?’
Isobel’s eyes struggled open once more. ‘Help me,’ she mouthed and as she did, she opened her hand – a tiny unfurling of her fingers – and a silver butterfly fluttered out towards the policeman. It landed on his hand and stayed there opening and closing its wings. ‘Help me,’ she whispered again.
Leo looked over to Lard and saw that he had tears in his eyes too.
The policeman gazed in awe at the butterfly which fluttered slowly away, disappearing into thin air within an arm’s length. Then the officer stood up and adjusted his hat. ‘Right,’ he said, twitching his neck. ‘We’ll give you a high-speed escort.’
‘Thank you,’ Leo breathed, hardly daring to speak in case he did something to break the spell. With Isobel so weak, he didn’t know how tenuous this might be.
‘Where did you say you were going?’
‘Stonehenge,’ Grant answered.
‘Then you’d better get a move on, sir,’ the policeman said. ‘We’ll take you as far as we can. That’ll speed things up a bit.’
Lard and Leo nearly passed out with shock. Grant looked as if he couldn’t believe his ears, but jumped back into the car and gunned it into life once more. The policeman returned to his car and, with lights flashing and sirens wailing, pulled back into the stream of traffic.
‘You did it, Isobel.’ Leo hugged her to him. But she had slipped away from them again.
‘What happened there?’ Grant said as he tried to keep up with the racing police car.
‘I don’t know,’ Leo admitted.
‘I had to say this heap was mine, Leo.’ His friend was clearly affronted that he had to pretend to have such bad taste. ‘And I still got a tug for speeding.’
‘I’ll pay the fine,’ Leo said.
Grant shook his head. ‘That doesn’t matter,’ he said. ‘All that matters is that we get Isobel there in time.’
They were all quiet in the car as they continued their journey, zooming along the motorway after the police car. Ethel ate up the miles, complaining little at the breakneck speed. As they came off the motorway the police officers waved them a cheery goodbye and peeled away. They continued their journey alone, following the signs for Stonehenge. Leo was holding his breath as they rushed past fields, fields and more fields, endless swathes of golden hay gleaming in the last vestiges of late-evening sun. Grant sped along the narrow, unlit dual carriageway lined with mile after mile of dark, claustrophobic trees until, eventually, they burst out onto a stark, open plain. Ahead of them, standing proud on the horizon, were the towering black silhouettes of the monoliths of Stonehenge.
Relief flooded through Leo. He leaned over and kissed Isobel. ‘We’re nearly there, baby. Hang on.’
The night was now drawing in, darkening slowly, and the clouds had huddled together. The sun was on its downward path towards the horizon and the space between the earth and sky was spattered with splotches of pink and apricot and fire red. Leo hoped this was a good omen. Coming closer into view was the huge circle of stones – great monoliths outlined against the vastness of the sky. Leo wasn’t a man prone to this sort of thing, but he could feel the strong pull of ancient powers. Isobel shifted in his arms and he clung to her. Inside, Leo had a horrible empty sensation and he wondered how much longer their time together would last.
Even though they’d made it this far, Grant and Lard were looking decidedly worried. And Leo got the feeling that as one part of the journey was ending, another more terrifying part was about to begin.
Chapter Sixty-Six
It took two very patient nurses, two very long hours to peel away all the Superglue from my tender skin with some sort of foul-smelling solvent. My skin feels bruised and raw, but there’ll be no permanent scarring – just a painful memory that I’d really rather forget.
Prior to this, there’d been another two-hour wait in a cubicle in the Accident and Emergency department – where they’d left me, still in the remains of my cardboard box, perched on top of a trolley, screened from too many prying eyes by nothing more than a pair of flimsy, ragged curtains.
Dominic has been fantastic. The nurses gave him some scissors while we waited and he quietly and methodically cut away at some more of my firmly adhered box, until I could actually straighten my legs. He endured, stoically – as I did – the parade of junior doctors who had clearly felt moved to come along to offer their vital medical opinion and not simply to have a gawp at me in my sleazy underwear. Eventually, one of the nurses brought me a surgical gown which Dominic tied round me to cover as much as he could. While we waited for the de-gluing to commence, we’d talked about Leo and Lydia and agreed what idiots they both were. It helped me to avoid thinking about what an idiot I am.
This is not how I envisaged the day would end. By now I should have been in Leo’s arms, quite possibly in Leo’s bed – he would have found it hard to resist me, I’m sure, in red giggling knickers. Instead, Leo’s poor neighbour has been roped in to perform the role of knight in shining armour. I look over at Dominic, and my new friend smiles crookedly at me. I have to admit that he’s done a very good job.
Now we’re in a cab on the way back to my flat. Dominic had brought me some clothes in his holdall – clearly ones that the recently departed Lydia had left behind. They’re a bit tight – maybe Lydia doesn’t have my attachment to all things calorific – but they’re certainly a lot more suitable than my previous ensemble.
I lean back on the seat of the taxi. I’m absolutely knackered. Being stuck in a cardboard box for the best part of the day has been an emotionally draining experience. Particularly when I’ve got nothing but a collection of red and very sore patches of skin to show for it. I glance over at my companion. Dominic looks completely done in too. For once it’s quite nice to be the stupid one, while someone else takes control. I can now appreciate Leo’s addiction to it. What on earth is making me act like this? What on earth is making me act exactly like Leo? My mind drifts to my ex-boyfriend and I wonder where he is now. Has he returned home to his flat completely oblivious to the fuss that has been created outside it all afternoon?
The cab pulls up outside my place. Dominic pays the driver and we get out.
The bars and restaurants on Shad Thames are still bustling. I want to crawl into my bed and sleep for ever. I limp towards the flat, all of my bones aching. It would have served me right if I’d never walked again or had spent the rest of my life in that hideous red thong. My bottom will bear the marks of it for weeks.
‘I want to make sure that you’re okay,’ Dominic says into my moping. ‘I hope you don’t mind.’
‘I’m fine now, really,’ I insist stoically, when inside I don’t feel fine at all. ‘But I should give you Lydia’s clothes back. Just in case she turns up for them.’
‘I think that’s unlikely,’ Dominic admits.
‘It might be better if I give you them back straight away. It would be easier than trying to explain to her why I borrowed them.’
Dominic laughs. He’s a great-looking guy. Relaxed, tousled. Laid back, but with a good deal more commonsense than some I could mention. Someone like Dominic might well be able to turn my head. A lightness comes over my spirit – something that I haven’t experienced in weeks. Perhaps my ‘in-the-box’ experience might have a worthwhile outcome after all. The thought makes me smile, even though my jaw aches with tension.
I open the door to my flat and let us both in. The red light on my answerphone is blinking away at me. Hopefully, it will be Leo having found out that I’ve suffered a cruel indignity on his doorstep and begging my forgiveness. If it is, I don’t want to listen to the message while Dominic is here.
‘Shall I put some coffee on while I go and get changed?’ I ask. He must be starving too, as neither of us has eaten during our ordeal.
‘I should be going,’ D
ominic says with a shrug. ‘I’ve got work to do before tomorrow.’
I realise that I don’t even know what work Dominic does and that, apart from a brief session of slagging off Lydia, I don’t know much about his personal life either. ‘Maybe I could take you out to dinner one evening soon,’ I offer. ‘As my way of saying thanks.’
‘You don’t have to do that.’
‘But I’d like to.’ And I realise that it’s true.
‘Then I’d like that too,’ Dominic replies shyly.
‘Scribble down your number while I change.’ I indicate a pad by the phone.
‘You’ve got a message.’
‘Yes.’ I feel myself flushing scarlet for the seventeen-hundredth time today. ‘I’ll listen to it later.’
Dominic doesn’t question my motives.
‘Make yourself comfy,’ I tell him. ‘I won’t be a minute.’
My friend turns to write down his number and I slip into the bedroom. Pulling off Lydia’s clothes, glad to be free of yet another constriction, I then yank on my comfiest tracksuit bottoms. All I want to do is sink onto my bed and never get up again. Instead, I root in my wardrobe, find a carrier bag for Lydia’s loaned clothes and pop them inside.
Dominic still waits patiently as I emerge from the bedroom. He hasn’t made himself comfortable, he’s sort of hovering about the flat, and when I go towards him, I can see that he’s looking at a picture of me and Leo together. I could kick myself that they’re still displayed all over the place – masses of photos of me and Leo in giggling, romantic poses. We did have our moments. Rather a lot of them, actually.
‘Here are Lydia’s clothes.’ I hand the bag over and he stuffs it into his holdall. ‘Thanks again. That was very thoughtful of you.’
‘You’re welcome,’ Dominic says. ‘I’d better be off now.’
‘Shall I call you a cab?’
It’s a Kind of Magic Page 26