by Anne Cassidy
‘He said he’d been in a fight.’
‘Joshua isn’t like that!’
‘I asked him if he’d been attacked and whether he knew the boy concerned but he just wouldn’t say. He says it was nothing and he didn’t want to talk about it. I’ve seen this before, Rose. Teenage boys attacked by others. They won’t press charges – they just have some idea of revenge and that could lead to even greater injury. Maybe you could talk to him. We could press charges. If he needs any reconstructive surgery then someone could go to prison for this.’
‘Reconstructive surgery! How badly has he been cut?’
Rose’s voice was squeaking with alarm.
‘Don’t upset yourself, Rose. I spoke to the doctor very briefly. Like I said, it’s not my case but . . .’
‘Henry, please tell me what’s happened to him.’
‘It looks as though someone has tried to cut off his ear.’
Rose felt faint. She stepped backwards and felt the wall behind her. Henry put his hand out to keep her steady.
‘It’s horrible, I know. I’ve never heard of a gang round here using this method but maybe it’s a new thing. I hope it isn’t,’ he said grimly.
TWELVE
Rose felt sick. She made as if to move past Henry but her step faltered. She didn’t know where to go. The rest of the waiting area was packed, all the seats taken and with other people standing around. Straight across from where they were a man was sitting on the floor, his legs splayed out. He had only one shoe on and the other foot showed a grey sock. He had a towel held to his jaw and a woman was kneeling down beside him, mumbling something. Rose looked about hopelessly.
‘I can’t believe it,’ Rose said. ‘Joshua’s ear?’
‘They don’t know how bad the damage is . . .’
‘Who would do such a thing?’
But even as she spoke she knew who it was. A feeling of absolute certainty held her. She would have sworn an oath to it. Henry looked pained and she realised that she was crying. She pulled a tissue out of her pocket and pressed it against her eyelids. In her head she saw a deserted cottage on the mudflats in North Norfolk. She and Joshua had been there months before. It had been cold and dark and the two of them had been hiding in an outbuilding. They had sat very stiff, hardly drawing breath while Viktor Baranksi’s son, Lev, together with his men, searched the place. They’d been discovered and dragged out to the front of the cottage. Joshua was bruised and battered and she had stood weak and useless beside him. The lights of Lev Baranski’s silver SUV had been turned on them as if they were being interrogated. He spoke icily. You tell your father I will never stop looking for him.
‘I know this is upsetting for you. I wish I could find you a seat but . . .’ Henry held his hands out at the crammed waiting area. ‘I’ll go and check on Joshua. Probably better if he doesn’t see you upset like this. When you’re calmer you can make arrangements to take him home.’
Rose watched him go and thought back to that night at the cottage in Norfolk. Lev Baranski and his men holding them prisoners, threatening Joshua. I have not forgotten my father’s death and I never will. Mikey, the man who had pulled out a knife, pointed it at Joshua and said, You want I should rough him? Hurt him? Just a little message for father? An eye? An ear? Lev Baranski, who thought that his father had been killed by Brendan, had taken a minute to think over Mikey’s question. No, not this time. This time I want him to go to his father and say that Lev Baranski wants to see him . . .
Henry came through the swing doors.
‘You can see him now. He’s a bit drowsy and numb. But he’s awake.’
Rose followed Henry through the doors into a wide corridor. They passed a number of cubicles, some with their curtains drawn, some open. Doctors seemed to wander round in their scrubs, looking as though they’d been called out of an operating theatre. There was a group of people studying a whiteboard which had been divided into sections and had names scribbled on in untidy black felt-tip.
When they got to the end of the corridor Henry paused by a cubicle. Rose looked inside. Joshua was sitting on a chair. He was dressed, his elbows on his knees. As he turned to her she saw that his ear was bandaged. On top of the bandage, sticking plaster stretched across his cheek and down his neck.
‘Oh no,’ she said.
‘Rosie,’ he said, cupping the injury with his hand as if to hide it.
‘I should get back to my RTA,’ Henry said.
‘Thank you so much,’ Rose said, gripping Henry’s hand for a moment.
When the policeman had gone Rose pulled up a chair and sat alongside Joshua and put her arm around him, turning him towards her so that she could look at his face. It wasn’t just his ear. He had a black eye and there was blood on his lip. His neck looked red or bruised. He had on a checked shirt and it looked as though the top buttons had come off.
‘Baranski?’ she whispered.
He nodded. He paused a moment as if making sure no one but Rose was listening to him.
‘He came to the flat. I answered the door and there he was. I tried to close it but his minder – the guy with the knife, Mikey? He was behind him. He dragged me into his car.’
‘When did this happen?’ she said, pointing to the bandage on his ear.
‘He drove up to Hampstead Heath. We got out of the car and they spent a lot of time questioning me, being nice, joking with me. Then it turned nasty. Mikey got his knife out.’
‘Oh . . .’
She grabbed his hand and held it tightly.
‘It was awful, Rose. Pain like I’ve never felt. It was red hot, like my head was on fire. I think I might have passed out. When I woke up I was in the car and they drove me here and dumped me outside. There’s a split at the top of my ear. Some cartilage has been damaged and I’ve got stitches,’ he shrugged.
‘I can’t believe it!’ she said. ‘You can’t go back to the flat. You have to come back to Anna’s. Stay with us for a while.’
‘Your gran’s?’
‘She’ll be fine about it,’ Rose said.
A picture of Anna’s worried face came into her head but she pushed it away. Just then the curtain was pulled back, making a sharp sound that rang in her ears. She looked up to see a young male doctor. He looked tired and had a pen nestled behind one ear. While he was speaking he fiddled with it.
‘Mr Johnson, I have your medication here. Antibiotics and painkillers.’
Rose stood up.
‘He’ll be ready soon,’ the doctor said to her.
‘I’ll be outside, Josh. I’ll just phone Anna and let her know that we are coming.’
Joshua nodded. Rose walked out through the swing doors and headed for the exit. She felt the tension of the last hour drain from her. Joshua needed to stay with her. She had to look after him. Outside, she stood next to the building in the glow of the light spilling from the windows. She got out her phone and was thinking of what to say to her grandmother when she felt a hand grab her arm roughly and hoist her away from the light.
‘What?’ she said.
She pulled hard, holding herself back, trying to dig her heels into the ground but another hand had gripped her free arm and in moments she found herself half dragged, half lifted round the corner of the building and pushed rudely into a recess between two pillars. In front of her were Lev Baranski and Mikey.
Even though she’d only seen them once she recognised them immediately. Lev Baranski was tall and thin, dressed in a knee-length leather coat over trousers. Mikey was shorter and wider and wore a large roll-neck sweater over jeans. He had her bag in his hands and she put her hand out to get it but he pulled it back like some tug of war.
‘You see your boyfriend?’ Lev Baranski said, ignoring what was going on.
He was staring intently at her. His hair was thin at the front. It made his forehead look larger than the rest of his face. Mikey was on the ground, picking up her things.
‘Get off,’ she said. ‘Give me my bag.’
But Lev push
ed her back and grabbed the front of her coat, pulling it towards him. His breath was hot on her face.
‘You see what we can do? Next time the whole ear. Or maybe worse. You tell him that we want to speak to his father. Tell him that, for now, we just want to talk. If we have to wait much longer then there will be no talking.’
Rose heard a flicking sound and saw Mikey holding his knife up in front of him.
‘Shame if pretty girl like you lose her looks.’
Rose stared hard at him. She would not cower. She would not flinch. He moved the knife in a circle in front of her face like a silly game. She was still as a rock, her heart thumping like a bass drum. He rested the tip of the knife on her chin.
She held her breath.
Then he took it away and retracted the blade and threw it into the air as if he was juggling it. Both of them turned and walked away, Lev Baranski pulling at his leather coat as if to smooth it down, Mikey out front, jauntily heading away from her.
Her bag was on the ground and she picked it up.
She stumbled around the corner and then went back into the hospital. She looked around for the toilet and headed there. It was a single cubicle and she locked the door and sat on the closed seat, making herself breathe slowly. She was thoroughly shaken up, her blood racing through her veins. The skin on her right arm was sore and she pressed on it with her other hand. She found herself rocking gently back and forward, a feeling of helplessness taking hold of her.
All she’d wanted to do was go out on a Friday night like other students. To have a few beers, a few laughs, maybe flirt with Jamie from Law. She’d even been enjoying herself, warmed up by the chatter and the music and the jokes. She’d felt comfortable in the Pink Parrot until Henry’s call had come. What if the policeman hadn’t been in the hospital? Hadn’t stumbled on Joshua being treated? What if she had never known that he was hurt? She might be still there in the pub or back at someone’s house for drinks or maybe walking back home with Jamie from Law, waiting for him to lean down and kiss her. Then Joshua would have been on his own and it wouldn’t have been anything to do with her. Not her responsibility.
Was there a little of her that wished this was true?
She stood up and leant over the tiny sink, cupping water from the tap and splashing it on her face. Then she looked into the mirror. At the point on her chin where Mikey’s knife had rested was a bubble of blood. It startled her.
The door handle moved.
‘Anyone in there?’ a woman’s voice called.
‘Just a minute,’ she said.
She got a wad of tissue and patted the blood. Her skin was clear for a second then it came again, bright red, scarlet. She held the tissue up to her chin and pressed it. She opened the door and without a word passed the woman who was waiting. She looked round. Joshua was over by the exit doors, looking for her. The sight of the dressings on his ear made her flinch. He looked like someone wounded in a war. He was in the checked shirt she had seen earlier, no coat. She walked towards him. He turned round to her. His face fell into a frown as she came closer.
‘What’s the matter?’ he said. ‘What’s happened? Has something happened?’
She took the tissue away from her chin.
‘I’ve seen Lev and Mikey,’ she said.
‘Rosie, you’re bleeding. What did they do to you?’
‘It’s nothing. Let’s get out of here.’
In the cab, on the way home, she sent a text to Anna and told her that Joshua had fallen off his bike and had been to A and E. She said that she was bringing him back to stay the night in the attic and that she hoped Anna wouldn’t mind.
She sat back and watched the lights of the city zip past her. It was late, almost two o’clock. Joshua was slumped against her. He felt hot and heavy. She put her arm around him and kissed his head.
‘Stay with me for a few nights,’ she whispered. ‘Sleep it off, get better. Then we’ll think about what to do.’
He looked up at her sleepily. The side of his face was covered with dressings and plaster. His lip was swollen.
‘What happened to your mouth?’ she said, lifting her finger and running it along the swollen part.
‘Punched.’
She winced and pictured Mikey and Lev Baranski marching Joshua along Hampstead Heath the same way they’d taken her from the front of the hospital, into the dark so that they could do what they wanted with him. She was filled with guilt. How could she have wished she’d not known about this?
She lowered her face and kissed his bruised lip. He stared at her.
‘We’ll sort this out,’ she said.
He put his arm around her and held her tight.
The taxi sped through the empty streets towards Belsize Park.
THIRTEEN
Joshua slept late. Rose went up to the attic periodically but each time he was still in the same position, the duvet at a slant, a corner of it touching the carpet. She stood and looked for a moment. His chest was rising and falling, his face slumped on the pillow, his bandages bright and startling against the bedding. It gave her a twinge of nausea to think of what he had been through at the hands of Mikey. She touched her chin. Her cut had dried up quickly. Still it had shaken her. The flick of a knife had given this man power to maim her. It made her angry as well, her fists clenching at the memory.
It was gone twelve when Joshua finally woke. Rose heard him moving about and she dashed up the stairs and found him sitting on the side of the bed. He was taking some tablets, one hand holding his ear where the dressings were.
‘I feel like someone hit me on the side of the head with a hammer,’ he said huskily.
‘Shall I get you some tea and toast?’
‘Just tea,’ he said. ‘I don’t feel much like eating. I’ll probably lie down again.’
‘OK.’
She brought the tea and then left him alone. She went down to her study and tried to get on with some work. From time to time she paused by the stairwell and listened then at just after five she heard the upstairs shower going. She waited and then crept up and knocked before opening the door very slightly.
‘Are you OK?’ she called.
‘Come in.’
He was dressed, sitting on the side of the bed, his head in his hands.
‘How are you feeling?’
‘A bit dopey. Painkillers,’ he said, pointing to a strip of tablets on the bedside cabinet. ‘Those are strong.’
She sat on the bed beside him. She put her arm round his shoulder. He lifted his hand and placed it on hers.
‘Will you come downstairs? Eat something?’
‘Yeah. I’d best have something.’
She stood up and pulled him to his feet. He turned towards her and seemed to flinch for a moment, raising his hand to cover his injured ear. She made a sympathetic face and they went downstairs.
Anna was shocked.
‘Good Lord, that looks dreadful!’ she said.
Her grandmother was getting ready to go out. She had tickets for a concert, Rose knew. She had on a woollen suit and very high heels. She was holding some cream leather gloves.
Rose retold the story about the bike accident. It rolled out easily and she added a few details about a car being involved and Joshua being taken to hospital in an ambulance.
‘What’s happened to the bike?’
Rose looked at Joshua.
‘It’s written off, I’m afraid.’
‘You’re insured?’
‘I think so.’
Anna nodded. ‘Stay here for a few days. Until you’re well.’
‘No, I’ll be fine.’
‘I insist. Just till you’re feeling better. Persuade him, Rose.’
Anna left them in the kitchen.
‘You should stay.’
‘Why? Baranski can find me here as well. He must know where you live. He’s not an idiot.’
‘Camden is so busy all the time it’s hard to see if anyone is watching you. Here it’s quiet. All the houses have
good security and there are alarms. People would notice someone hanging round.’
Joshua didn’t answer but she sensed he understood her point.
‘I’d have to bring a few things. My laptop, files and stuff.’
‘Sure. The room’s private. Anna never goes up there.’
He nodded.
‘We could go now. Get a cab. Drive the Mini back.’
Joshua shook his head.
‘No, the Mini stays where it is.’
He said it sharply. She felt chastised as if she’d been insensitive. Of course he wouldn’t be able to drive. The injury to his head may have affected his confidence or his balance and then there were the painkillers that were making him drowsy.
‘OK. Why don’t we go now?’
Anna insisted on giving them a lift to Camden on her way to the Royal Festival Hall. The car smelled of polish and as they drove there was classical music playing. Anna drove slowly and carefully, leaning forward, both hands gripping the wheel. Eventually she pulled up outside Lettuce and Stuff, just beyond a double red line.
A car tooted angrily from behind.
‘Have a good evening,’ Rose called, shutting the door.
Lights were on inside the flat. Joshua saw her looking up to the windows.
‘Baranski grabbed me as I answered the door. They slammed it behind me. I didn’t have my phone or keys or anything. The lights, the TV, my computer, it’s all on up there. My beer bottle is sitting on the desk untouched. Wait here. I’ll get my spare key from the cafe.’
He went into the cafe and came back out moments later. When he opened the front door Rose could hear the television from upstairs. She followed him up.
‘Luckily I wasn’t running a bath,’ he said.
She went into the kitchen.
‘Just going to pack a few things,’ he said, heading off.
There were some dishes waiting to be washed and a jumper hanging over the back of a chair. The table had books and folders on it. Rose picked up one of them. It was a big battered paperback book, A History of Engineering and Technology: Artful Methods. It had several Post-its stuck to pages and a ruler lying through the middle of it like a bookmark. The kitchen still looked bare. The absence of Skeggsie’s things meant there were gaps everywhere.