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Becoming Edward

Page 17

by Meredith, Faye


  ‘What sort of joke?’ said the tallest boy.

  ‘All you have to do is pretend, and I mean pretend, to scare my friend. She’s a girl, so maybe just get a bit cheesy with her and start to chat her up, block her way and act threatening, but don’t touch her.’

  ‘Yeah, we can do that.’

  ‘When I show up, I want you to back away, like you’re really scared of me.’

  ‘You’re trying to impress this chick,’ said the short one.

  ‘Exactly.’

  The hoodies all laughed and did various hand shakes and slaps.

  ‘You are sad, man,’ said the one with the micro stubble.

  ‘Maybe.’ Lewis waved the wad of notes in front of them. ‘So do you wanna do this or not?’

  ‘Hell, yeah,’ they all said.

  Lewis handed them a £50 note each, which they all held above their heads like winning lottery tickets.

  ‘Now you get another one of these when the job’s complete. Watch for my signal, okay?’

  ‘Whatever you say, man.’ The group of teenage boys giggled and punched each other affectionately on the arm in celebration of their good fortune. If some nut wanted to give them cash to impress a girl, they were only too happy to accommodate.

  Lewis hid in the trees and watched them. He looked like Edward, now he wanted to prove it. His plan was simple and with any luck would work exactly like the scene from the first Twilight book where Bella gets lost in Port Angeles. She takes a wrong turn, ends up down a dark alley and gets surrounded by a group of thugs who have only one thing on their mind. Just before they attack, Edward turns up and rescues her, looking fierce and menacing. He scares her attackers away without resorting to ripping their arms off, even though it takes all of his will power.

  Lewis replayed the plan in his head as he stood there watching and waiting. A few minutes later he saw the glorious sight of Rachel walking down the wide pathway. Her thick curly hair bobbed up and down as she walked. She was dressed in black jeans and a short cropped leather jacket. He was mesmerised momentarily, but managed to pull himself together as she got closer.

  Lewis stepped out slightly from behind the tree so the hoodies could see him but he was still hidden from her view. He pointed in her direction and the smallest hoodie put his thumb up, confirming he understood. Lewis sprinted back to his car, revved the engine and sped down a small access road that led to the gardens.

  Chapter 15

  *

  Rachel tried not to skip as she walked through the gardens. She was wearing a new jacket her mum had bought her. It wasn’t real leather, but she didn’t care. She didn’t care about anything because tonight was the night she would meet the new Lewis. His change had been a signal to Rachel, a green light in her head telling her it was going to be okay. Lewis could be trusted - that was what she had decided. Now she had made the decision, her shoe-gazing days were over. She’d nearly forgotten what it was like to be happy. It was as delectable as chocolate and a thousand times more addictive. She wanted to binge on it for the rest of her life.

  She still had no proof he’d done all this for her, but in her heart she knew it was true. She couldn’t explain it, she didn’t need to, it was instinctive. All she wanted to do was see him and touch him and kiss him. Rachel walked past a pack of hoodies sitting on a bench. They looked young and stupid so she gave them a wide berth. She heard three of them jump off the bench and start walking behind her. The other three moved in front of her, blocking her path. It was as if it had been rehearsed.

  ‘Hello, darling,’ said the smallest one.

  Rachel instinctively moved to the side to avoid the confrontation, but one of the hoodies outflanked her so she couldn’t get past. She looked behind and saw she was surrounded.

  ‘Why are you in such a hurry?’

  ‘Get out of my way,’ Rachel replied without making eye contact.

  ‘We just want to chat,’ said the smallest hoodie, moving in closer. The others crowded around her so Rachel was trapped. This was no longer hormonal boys trying their luck, Rachel could sense an attack coming. Her heart quickened and her hands were damp with sweat. There was the strong possibility of another asthma attack coming, she didn’t have much time.

  ‘You fit, girl,’ said one of the hoodies behind her and the rest of the boys eyed her up and down. Rachel was petite and pretty, and very vulnerable. Looking like she did had always made her mum worry about her. So, when Rachel had started going out after dark, at the age of fourteen, her mum had enrolled her in self-defence classes. And she’d been doing them ever since. Rachel may have looked helpless, but she was certainly no Bella Swan. All those hours of training now kicked in.

  ‘Please don’t hurt me,’ said Rachel in a pretend weak voice. She held her hands up as if she were surrendering. The smallest hoodie bought straight into her charade. He leaned in close, too close.

  ‘We’re not going to hurt you …’ But before he could finish his sentence, Rachel had rammed the heel of her hand straight into his nose. The nasal cartilage crumbled under her palm.

  ‘Back off, dicksnot!’ Rachel snarled at the top of her voice.

  He squealed in pain. Grabbing his nose he collapsed on the floor. Blood spilled out between his fingers. The rest of the hoodies looked at their friend with a mixture of horror and confusion. Rachel seized the opportunity and swung a stilettoed boot high into the groin of the hoodie standing nearest her. He too went down on the ground.

  *

  Lewis drove into view just in time to see his plan unravelling like a Primark jumper. The sight of Rachel laying out hoodies like Jet Li distracted him and he lost control of his car. Instead of doing an impressive power slide into the Gardens, the car disappeared into a huge Rhododendron bush. No-one, including Rachel, saw his dramatic entrance. Lewis managed to get the door open and fight his way through the monstrous undergrowth.

  He rushed over to the scene just as the hoodies dispersed. Lewis’ legs didn’t carry him fast enough. He came up behind Rachel, but she was still in attack mode. Her elbow automatically flew backwards like a piston. It landed squarely on Lewis’ nose and he felt the world around him begin to get fuzzy. His legs did a shimmy and then he was on the floor in a heap.

  He came to, a few seconds later. His nose throbbed and he tasted blood in his mouth. As he opened his eyes, he could see the blurred face of Rachel looking over him. She had a tissue in her hand that dripped with blood. She was trying unsuccessfully to stem the crimson flow from his nostrils. A few people had gathered around and were muttering about calling ambulances and how hoodies should be banned.

  ‘Lewis, Lewis? Is that you?’ Rachel’s voice was full of sweet concern. ‘I’m sorry. I didn’t recognise you. You look so different.’

  ‘What happened?’ Lewis managed to say.

  ‘I think I elbowed you in the face. I’m so sorry. I thought you were trying to attack me.’

  The guilty reality of Lewis’ ridiculous plan resurfaced in his mind like a turd that wouldn't flush. Lewis groaned, not from the pain but because he was ashamed.

  ‘Lewis, you’re hurt. We need to get you to the hospital. Can you stand?’

  ‘I think so.’

  A couple of bystanders helped Rachel get him to his feet.

  ‘I’m okay, I’m okay,’ he said, trying to play things down.

  ‘No you’re not. We need to call an ambulance.’

  ‘No, my car’s over there.’ Lewis pointed.

  ‘Where?’

  ‘Trust me, it’s there.’

  ‘Lewis, you’re in no state to drive,’ said Rachel.

  ‘Can you drive?’ he said.

  ‘Yeah, but I don’t know about driving your van.’

  ‘I haven’t got it anymore. I’ve got a car,’ Lewis said, like he had a heavy cold.

  ‘Oh, okay. Where’s it parked?’

  Lewis pointed to the massive hedge.

  ‘What? Behind the hedge?’

  ‘Er, no. It’s inside it.’


  ‘How did that happen?’

  ‘I, er, lost control when I saw those guys hassling you.’

  It took several attempts for Rachel to reverse the car out of its bushy prison. The bonnet and windscreen were strewn with leaves and broken branches – the car looked like it was trying to camouflage itself. Lewis collapsed into the passenger seat while Rachel cleared all the foliage. Apart from some scratches on the paintwork it had fared better than Lewis had. Blood continued to Niagra out of his face and all down his front. His new grey double-breasted jacket was now splashed with red, like he’d been in a paintball fight.

  ‘This is the car from Twilight,’ Rachel said, getting in to the driver’s seat.

  Lewis nodded. He pulled down the sun visor and looked in the vanity mirror. One of his contact lenses had come out and his nose was mashed. The only fictional character he resembled now was someone from a zombie film.

  ‘You’ve had your hair cut. It’s looks really nice.’ Rachel said, glancing across at him. ‘I’m so sorry, I’ve ruined your new look.’

  ‘Don’t worry, I’m fine.’

  ‘I'm so sorry, Lewis.’

  ‘Please stop apologising,’ Lewis said. ‘It was my fault.’ Every time she said sorry, his guilt got worse.

  ‘Your fault?’ said Rachel. ‘How could it be your fault?’

  ‘I should have been here earlier,’ he said. ‘Then I could have stopped those guys from hassling you.’

  ‘Lewis you can't blame yourself for this,’ said Rachel. ‘This was all my fault. I'm so sorry.’

  Of all the stupid things he’d done in his life, this was by far the dumbest. In trying to impress Rachel, he’d only succeeded in sending her on a massive guilt trip for something she hadn’t done. A sickness hung in his stomach and he wanted to throw up. It didn't help that he'd swallowed a lot of his own blood. He was the also crappiest vampire ever.

  When they walked into A&E it was a similar scene to the one Lewis had seen last time. Except on this occasion the place was full of people who had either got into a fight or fallen over – both the effects of too much alcohol. It wasn’t exactly the romantic end to the evening Lewis had planned. His look was ruined and he felt terrible for what he’d just put Rachel through. He was being punished for contriving something so idiotic.

  He wanted to confess everything, but he knew that would be the end of their relationship, even though it hadn’t exactly started yet. If she found out what he had done she would never speak to him again, he was sure of that. This one had to stay well and truly buried. It was an awful thing to do and he knew Rachel was carrying all the blame for hitting him in the nose. As soon as this was over and if things went well, he vowed to shower her with presents.

  After three hours, Lewis heard his name being called. He stood up slowly with Rachel’s help. As they made their way to the double doors that led to the treatment rooms Lewis saw the familiar face of the nurse with the tightly pulled back hair who’d seen him last time. Lewis looked down at the floor.

  ‘It’s best if you keep your head up,’ the nurse said. She led them both to a booth and sat Lewis down on the bed. The nurse cleaned the blood off his face and nose, and gently pushed a cotton wool bung in each nostril. ‘I’ll give you a load of these,’ she said holding up a packet of cotton wool. ‘You might have to change them every few hours depending on how much your nose bleeds.’

  ‘Is it broken?’ asked Rachel.

  ‘Difficult to tell,’ said the nurse, ‘even with an x-ray. If it is, we tend not to do anything other than let it heal by itself. The real question is whether it’s still straight or not.’ The nurse looked at his nose carefully. ‘Well, whoever hit you …’

  ‘It was me,’ Rachel interrupted.

  The nurse looked at Rachel with surprise. ‘It was a nice clean blow,’ she said. ‘The nose is still straight, even if it is beginning to swell up. The swelling is nice and symmetrical, so we won’t need to realign it. Just keep plenty of ice on it and take anti-inflammatories regularly.’ The nurse paused for a second and looked at Lewis with searching eyes. ‘Haven’t I seen you recently?’

  ‘Er, yeah,’ he said.

  ‘What were you in for?’ the nurse asked.

  ‘My surfboard hit me on the head.’

  ‘Oh yes, I remember. I stitched you up. Have you had them out yet?’

  ‘No, not yet.’

  ‘Let’s have a look at them.’ The nurse lifted the flap of hair that masked Lewis’ other injuries. ‘Oh yes, this has healed nicely, I can take the stitches out for you now if you like.’

  ‘No time like the present,’ Lewis replied, shrugging his shoulders.

  ‘Lewis, you didn’t tell me you got hit by your surfboard,’ Rachel said, touching his arm.

  ‘No, I didn’t think it would exactly impress you.’

  ‘Lewis, you don’t need to impress me.’

  ‘Really?’

  ‘Of course not.’

  Lewis smiled at Rachel and Rachel smiled back. It was the most romantic moment of the evening until the nurse started tugging stitches from Lewis’ head.

  ‘Ow,’ said Lewis.

  ‘Sorry, they do sting a bit when you pull them out,’ said the nurse.

  Lewis sat there looking at Rachel. He had thread coming out one side of his head, balls of cotton wall stuffed up his nose and one contact lens. On the positive side, he was getting tons of sympathy from Rachel even if it was offset with a big dose of his own despicable guilt, seeing how he had created this whole catastrophe.

  After he’d been patched up, Lewis felt well enough to drive Rachel back home. Along the way, there was mostly silence, apart from Rachel who kept apologising for hitting him. Lewis dropped her off and told her not to worry about him and that they’d meet up soon when his nose had resumed its regular shape. Rachel protested, wanting to see him earlier to make sure he was all right, but his wretched shame would have to subside before he could look her in the eye again.

  *

  Clive felt like a boil-in-the-bag meal. He had stupidly decided to wear a black crew neck jumper made from 100% pure wool. The reason for this was that Clive had little experience of night clubs and didn’t want to stand out as someone with no dress sense. Wearing black seemed like the safest option. He’d heard you couldn’t go wrong with black. Whatever fashions are in or out, black is always the new Friday, or something like that. So he’d gone for black jeans and a black top, just to be safe. However, Clive had failed to anticipate how hot night clubs get, and Aruba was like a pizza oven. The sweaty, claustrophobic heat from all those bodies being squished together was getting to him.

  He’d also worn nothing underneath, so now the jumper was itching his skin like it was made from asbestos. Already irritable to start with, he also had the beginnings of a cold. Runny snot kept trickling from one nostril and red patch of raw skin had started to appear where he kept dabbing it with a tissue that had long since disintegrated into a ball of soggy shreds.

  The thought of Rachel and Lewis arriving was also making him tense. He should have stayed at home. Part of the reason he was here was Kat, or more specifically the threat of what she’d do if he wasn’t here. Like the mafia, you never turned down an offer from her. But he was also curious to find out what was happening with Lewis and Rachel. Were they together or not? He had to know and had sort of resigned himself to being out of the running now, especially seeing as he’d also been rejected by Lynn. If he’d had no luck with her, what were the chances of Rachel going out with him?

  The music pounded against his already aching head. It was some wanky retro jazz fusion nonsense. Loads of people were dressed up in 70's afro wigs and flares. He hated them. Everyone seemed to be having a great time, except him, which was what he remembered from the last time he went to a club. He should have asked Ginster to come - at least he would have someone to talk to instead of standing there like Nobby-no-mates. But Ginster had zero street cred, which would have made Clive feel even less cool, if that were possible.r />
  Clive looked around getting more hot and bothered. He kept scratching at himself like he had eczema. At last he saw a friendly face – Cassie. Although her face wasn’t exactly friendly, but she did look relieved to see him.

  ‘Clive, I’m so glad I’ve found you,’ she said.

  ‘What’s the matter?’

  ‘Have you seen Rachel?’

  ‘No I haven’t.’

  ‘I keep calling and texting her, but I’m getting no reply,’ Cassie said, glancing at her mobile.

 

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