by Marc Scott
Raising her head slightly, Bree stared at her sister. ‘It is Bree,’ she muttered under her breath. ‘My name is fucking Bree!’
As Poppy neared the exit door to enter the confines of the main prison she called out to her sibling once more. ‘Hey, missy, he did come to watch me in a school play, one Christmas, I was about six, he was steaming, off his face on booze. The teachers threw him out halfway through the show, he was sound asleep, snoring like a baby.’ Bree’s face suddenly lit up. Her sister had finally acknowledged her existence. It was enough for Bree, just hearing that was enough, her journey had not been wasted. She didn’t want her to go now, she wanted to know more, anything, anything at all. She needed to know more about her, about them, her and her father. Just as Poppy was about to disappear she left her sibling with a parting remark that brought a broad smile to her sad features. ‘And really, girl, get a grip, can you imagine me in a fucking ballet dress?’
A small tear appeared in Bree’s eye as her sister disappeared from her view. It was a tear of sadness. She suddenly felt empty inside, empty and lost, because she knew in her heart that this would be the last time that she would ever see her sister. ‘Goodbye, Poppy’ she said, her smile replaced with a small frown. ‘I hope you find some peace in your life.’
En route to her cell Poppy gave the mixed-race girl a long hard look. The altercation the two of them had been involved in the previous day had seemed trivial at the time, but Poppy wanted her fellow inmate to be under no illusion that she was no pushover. The damaged girl with the fierce temper was frightened of no one and she was willing to carry out her own brand of punishment on anyone who messed with her. The girl avoided her stare, giving Poppy an immediate psychological advantage over her new enemy.
Poppy entered her cell with a strange feeling inside her. She felt as if she had met Bree a long time ago, it was as if she had known her her whole life, despite the fact she had only ever seen her a few times. She didn’t know what it was, but it felt as if they had a connection, a real connection. It confused her slightly.
As she sat on her bed, she looked over at the crumpled photograph of her and her father. The picture was stuck to the wall courtesy of some Blu Tack supplied by her cellmate. As she studied the photo more closely, she pushed gently against a small object that was swinging from the makeshift shelf beside her. It was a simple object, a slightly battered keyring that was to become her constant companion for the years ahead. Taking a closer look at the fading picture, something brought a smile to her face. Part of her wanted to tear the photograph into a thousand pieces but a bigger part of her wanted to laugh out loud. ‘Poor cow!’ she said. ‘She even has our fucking nose.’
There were three hours to kill before dinner, three long and arduous hours that would be more taxing on the brain than anyone could ever imagine. The constant sound of fellow inmates whinging and whining across the landing, the woman in the adjacent cell who seemed to burst into tears at least once an hour and the hawk-like eyes of the prison guards scrutinising her every move. Poppy pushed the tiny souvenir of her past to keep it swinging, staring at it intently as if she was hoping that she would be hypnotised by its backwards and forwards motions, sending her to sleep, taking her away from this stark reality. It didn’t work, but she found its presence to be a comfort to her.
Poppy picked up the items left by her sister and lay back on her hard pillow. She began to flick through the pages of one of the fashion magazines, sneering at most of the bright images of stunning zero-sized models clad in highbrow clothing, before declaring, ‘God! What sort of people read this fucking shit?’
Chapter Twenty-Eight
The clouds above the prison walls had fulfilled their earlier promise and the rain had begun to fall as Bree made her way back to her car. She took a few minutes to take in the final image of where her sister was to be housed for the foreseeable future before driving to her intended destination. There was so much more she would have liked to know about Poppy, a thousand questions she would never have answered. But she felt that she had made the peace with her sibling and that would make her final journey that much easier.
Bree arrived at the Maple crossing just as a freight train hurtled by, its noisy engine ripping through the damp air, polluting the peaceful countryside setting. Seconds later the barrier was raised and she drove to the other side. A small shudder ran through her as she sensed the stark reality of this location. This was the first time she had been here since it happened, but she had an inner resolve today, she felt stronger than she had felt in a very long time.
She parked her Mercedes in a nearby side street and made the short walk back to the crossing. It was strange, it seemed to be welcoming her return, as if it was pleased she had come back. She immediately noticed two displays of fresh flowers that had been left by the barriers. She didn’t have to guess who the ivory lilies were from. It warmed her inside to know that Maisie and her mother had not forgotten the anniversary of Jamie’s death. The other display was a colourful assortment of carnations and germini, with a card showing that Preston and Jamie’s friends from the gym had earmarked the date of the event. Bree never did like Preston very much, but for the few seconds it took her to read his personal inscription on the card, he had turned from sinner to saint in her eyes. His words seemed heartfelt as if he genuinely missed the antics of his work colleague.
The grey sky was becoming darker and the rain was falling more steadily as Bree stood at the crossing in sombre silence. She looked down at the dark puddle that was growing beneath her feet and began to remember what a fuss she had made over her new boots on that fateful day. She suddenly felt ashamed of her petulant behaviour. Nothing should have mattered that day, or any other day since Jamie left her. She did not speak in those small moments, she didn’t need to. She knew that it would not be long before she could tell her brother everything she had been wanting to say since they parted. She picked off the two small cards that had been left with the flowers. She wanted Jamie to know how much he was truly missed.
Bree’s second port of call was one that she did with a heavy heart. She posted a letter in a small post box on the outskirts of Oxley village. It was a simple letter, addressed to foreign shores. She had checked the postage carefully the previous day to make sure it would reach its destination. The letter was not addressed to her mother, although in truth it should have been. Even at this late juncture in her troubled life, Bree was not prepared to give her parent the respect she craved. The letter had been with Bree for some time, locked safely away in a drawer in her bedroom, but she had never felt the desire to relay its contents to her parents before today. It was not a long letter and was self-explanatory. The words written some time before would ensure that her mother would be left in no doubt as to the irreversible damage she had done to her children when she tried to tear apart the unbreakable bond that existed between them. The message in the letter would cause great pain to the woman who divided the love the siblings had shared and explain why Jamie was no longer here. Perhaps, Bree thought in hindsight, she should have addressed the letter to her mother rather than to Per. After all, he would always find a way to make the words of the note sound softer, more comforting. He would be the support that would get her mother through the tragic truth she was about to discover. Bless Per, she thought, he might just be a puppet in her mother’s eyes, but he would always be the best father she could ever have wished for.
She posted the letter at 4.12pm and made her way back to her car. A small crack of thunder could be heard in the distance as the light began to fade in the skies above. She was ready now, she was ready to make that short journey that would take her to her final calling. She had made a promise to herself, a promise that she had postponed several times before, it had never been the right time. But today, the time was right, today it was perfect.
Bree made the seven-minute journey to the east of Guildford town centre and entered the multi-storey car park. This was not
a random choice of venue, she had chosen this place some months before when she had been on one of her shopping trips. She carefully manoeuvred her Mercedes up through the winding concrete pathway. There was plenty of room for her to park on both the fifth and sixth floors, but she chose to drive her car all the way to the roof area. There were only a few other vehicles here, so she was unlikely to be disturbed. After parking her Mercedes, Bree took a moment before applying some makeup and a thin coat of lipstick. She wanted to look her best today. She plugged her mobile phone into the car speaker and found the treasured video of her beloved brother singing at the wedding reception. She watched the footage two or three times, running her finger gently across his smiling face as he danced across her small screen. She could feel his presence in the car, he was here with her, she could sense it. Bree pressed the replay button on her video setting and turned up the volume on her car system so that the sound of her brother’s singing would accompany her on her journey. She felt happy, she felt at peace with the world.
The falling rain had now gathered pace as it dropped from the blackening clouds, but it did not bother Bree when she exited her car. If anything, she welcomed the downpour, it added something special to the occasion. She threw her pink cashmere coat onto the back seat, leaving her car door open as she made her way to the rear of her vehicle. She wasn’t bothered about how wet the seat covers might get, she needed to hear his voice, singing out to her from those tiny speakers. She retrieved a garment from the boot of her car. It was something special, something that she had been hiding in her wardrobe drawer, something that she had been hiding for too long. She smiled a warm smile and hurriedly slipped the precious item of clothing over her body, laughing as she pulled the hood back from her head. It was beautiful, a bright shiny yellow sort of beautiful. It was long, very long, and big, far too big for her small frame. Bree’s tiny hands could barely be seen at the bottom of the sleeves, but she adored it, it was perfect. It immediately made her feel like she belonged here, on this wet and windy rooftop. She walked through the small streams of rainwater that had formed on the car park roof and began to dance, spinning around like a small child, kicking her way through the puddles and pirouetting like a ballerina in a West End show. Jamie’s song could be heard in the background. She tried to copy his dance moves, but she couldn’t. In her eyes no one ever danced as good as he did.
Bree glided her way across the rain-drenched rooftop in the direction she had travelled from that day. Despite the falling rain and the fading light, there was a clear view. She could see everything that she needed to from that corner of the roof. She had a bird’s eye view of the Maple crossing. Bree lifted herself up onto the side of the fence and onto the top of the solid brick wall. There was no hesitation in her step, no fear, she had rehearsed this day so many times in her head, the time she had been waiting for with such eager anticipation had finally arrived. She slipped slightly as she climbed over the small barrier that separated the rooftop from the wall on the outside of the building, but it did not stop her. Standing up on the narrow stretch of bricks she looked down. There was nothing protecting her now. The drop to the street was more than a hundred feet, but it could have been a thousand, ten thousand, she would not have been deterred. Suddenly everything in her line of vision seemed so small. Cars were coming and going beneath her feet and people were rushing across the busy roads below, hiding under their umbrellas, desperate to escape the atrocious weather. Bree stood there for a few seconds before pulling down the hood of her bright yellow raincoat. What did it matter now if her hair was a mess? She closed her eyes for a second or two as the rain lashed down. There was a tinge of excitement running through her veins at that moment. She held no fear whatsoever, she knew that when she jumped that Jamie would catch her, he would hold her in his arms and they would be together again for all eternity. This was to be her ‘perfect moment’.
Bree took another look down at the miniature circus below before raising her head towards the sky. ‘Isn’t this beautiful, Jay?’ she said. ‘Isn’t this rain so sweet and so beautiful?’ Stretching her arms out wide to embrace the showers that were falling from the skies, she continued. ‘It takes me back, Jay, back to that night.’ Bree closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She wanted to smell the air, to taste the rain, it was going to be so special for her. ‘It’s my time now, my time, Jay. It’s time for me and you to be together again. I am not scared, really, I am not scared!’
Above her, the skies continued to darken as the narrow ledge beneath Bree’s feet became damper by the second. ‘I went to see our sister today, I went to see Poppy. She is a bit, well, you know, she is a bit fucking crazy, Jay, but I like that about her. And she likes me, Jay, I could tell that she likes me now. She told me some things, about her, about him, about our father. Is he there with you, Jamie? Did you find him? Is he up there with you? I hope so, I hope you have found him now.’
The downpour began to increase in intensity, growing in stature as if it was doing its best to mirror the fateful night from the previous year. Bree’s hair was now wet through and trickles of rain had found their way inside her bright raincoat and were running down her neck. In the distance she could make out the sounds of a police siren from the busy town centre. She looked down again, the dimming lights below seemed to be making a pathway for her, as if they were calling out to her, inviting her to jump.
‘Do you think I look beautiful in this coat, Jay? Do you think it suits me?’ Bree asked, pushing back her soaking wet hair. ‘Do you remember, Jamie, do you remember that you said that to her? You said that to Jess, on the boat, you said that she looked beautiful, you said that this coat suited her, do you remember, Jay?’
Suddenly one of her feet seemed to lose its grip on the slippery surface and Bree’s feet wobbled beneath her. She reached behind her back and grabbed at the barrier in a bid to steady herself. ‘I hope she is not with you, Jamie, I hope Jess is not up there with you. You stopped telling me that I was beautiful when Jess came along, you stopped telling me that I was special. It was her then, Jay, it was always Jess, she was always your special one then.’
Bree’s thoughts had suddenly become clouded by the memory of her brother’s girlfriend and her mood began to take a different turn. She needed to say something. ‘I told you that she was no good for you, Jay, I told you so many times, but you never listened to me. You thought you knew her, you thought you knew everything about Jess, but you didn’t.’ Bree brushed back her hair from her face again, conscious that her brother might be watching her. He needs to know, she thought, he deserves to know. ‘I knew she couldn’t swim, Jamie, that’s why she didn’t want to go on that boat trip. I knew she couldn’t swim, she told me, but she didn’t tell you, did she?’ Bree could not hide the bitterness she was holding onto for much longer, there was a tinge of anger in her voice now. ‘I hated you being with her, Jamie, she was no good for you. I knew that you and Jess were talking about me, you were always talking behind my back. You thought I never heard you, Jay, but I did.’ Bree looked down at the busy streets below. They seemed to be screaming up at her now, beckoning her to join them, begging her to jump, to end her torment once and for all. Bree’s expression slowly changed to one of anguish. ‘I heard you, Jay, I heard everything.’ She ran her hands up against the side of her face and pushed them against her ears. ‘The noises, those noises when she was in your bed, I hated them, I hated them so much, I could hear everything in my room. I cried every night, but you never heard me, you never cared about me anymore, everything was about her, she was your special one then, Jay, everything was always about Jess.’
The sounds of thunder cracked in the distance. The storm was growing and the worst of it seemed to be heading towards the place that she had chosen for her final act. But Bree was oblivious to the deteriorating weather conditions. ‘I never felt guilty, Jamie, I have never ever felt bad about what I did. She was no good for you, I never felt anything when I…’ Bree smiled, a twisted knowin
g smile and cut short her confession. ‘You don’t want to hear that, Jay, do you? You don’t want to hear that. But I don’t want her to be there with you now, please tell me Jess is not with you. Tell me that you just want me to be with you again, that’s all that matters, isn’t it? You just want us to be together again.’
A crack of lightning caught Bree unaware and caused her to lose her footing. She clasped more firmly at the rail behind her as if she still needed more time. She still had more to say. ‘I could have helped her, Jamie, when she was in the water, I could have helped her, but I didn’t, I just watched. I know I should have called you, I should have shouted for you and the captain, I should have told you. But I just watched, Jay. I just waited. I waited until her arms stopped moving and the waves were over her head. I knew I had you back then, Jamie, I knew we could be together again.’
Bree stood in silence for a few seconds, maybe her guilt was finally going to surface, maybe this would be her moment of remorse. But that was not the case, the twisted anger on her face portrayed the darker inner thoughts she truly felt for her brother’s lost love. ‘She didn’t look very beautiful when they pulled her out of the water, did she, Jamie? She wasn’t very fucking special then!’
Bree began to feel a bitter emptiness inside her body, as though something precious had been stolen from her at that moment, a frightening realism that she should not be here. She was starting to rethink her whole plan. ‘I know that you are with her now, Jay, I know that Jess is there, I know you are both laughing at me.’