This Is Not Forgiveness

by Celia Rees

  ‘That obvious?’

  She smiles. ‘That obvious. You two back together again?’

  ‘Maybe. I hope so.’

  ‘If that’s what you want.’

  ‘It is at the moment.’

  ‘If you ever get her out of your system, I’ll be around.’ She tugs the lead. ‘Come on, Mitzy. Let’s go.’

  She sets off, the mutt running along beside her. The dog’s a fast mover for such a small breed.

  Caro opens the door and puts her arms round me. She seems glad to see me.

  ‘Thanks for coming over,’ she says after a while.

  ‘Folks still not back?’

  She shakes her head. ‘Delayed at Calais. I didn’t want to be alone. Not tonight.’

  I laugh. ‘It’s only school starting. And it’s not as though you don’t know anyone.’ I put my arms round her again. ‘Me for a start.’ I push a lock of hair back behind her ear. ‘I’ll be there to take care of you. I’ll see that you’re all right.’

  She smiles up at me. ‘I know you will.’ She holds me away from her. ‘Not bad. You scrub up well. Come on.’ She hangs my bag up in the lobby and takes me by the hand, leading me into the living room. ‘I’ve got a surprise. Wait here. Help yourself to a drink.’

  She leaves me there and disappears upstairs. She’s away quite a while.

  There’s music playing, jazz or something, on low. There’s a bucket with champagne chilling and a bottle of vodka. I go into the kitchen and fetch myself a beer.

  It’s worth the wait. When she comes downstairs, she looks like a girl from a dream. Like no one else I’ve seen, as if she’s not quite real but has stepped out of the screen. Her hair falls in a deep wave across her face and her eyes look huge under fine, arched brows, her cheekbones shadowed, her lips are painted deep red. The dress she’s wearing is low-cut and clings to her, shimmering as she moves.

  ‘You look amazing,’ I say.

  She smiles and comes towards me. She’s wearing high heels, so she’s nearly as tall as me. There’s a looking glass on the wall above the mantelpiece. She puts her arm through mine and we stand together. For a second we seem like two strangers in the mirror, neither quite knowing what to say next or what to do. I feel like I’m looking at a vision of the future, not as we are now, but as we might be one day. I know at that moment that I want to spend the rest of my life with her. One day, I will ask her to marry me. Neither of us says anything, but there is a gleam at the corner of her eye, like glycerine. She doesn’t have to say it, I know that she feels the same way I do.

  ‘I want tonight to be special,’ she says.

  She’s ordered weird food off the Internet, caviar and foie gras, quail eggs. She likes that kind of fancy stuff, but the eggs are too hard to peel, and I don’t like the fishy taste of the caviar or the way the globules pop in my mouth. The paté is too rich and I remember Martha telling me how they stuff the geese with grain to get it. In the end, we order a takeaway. We drink the champagne with chicken tikka jalfrezi and rogan josh.

  After we’ve eaten, she brings in a bottle of Oaxaca mescal, the one with a scorpion floating in the bottom of the bottle, and a dish piled with segments of lime and two salt-rimmed glasses. I remember the last time and opt for vodka.

  She pours two shots. ‘Here’s to us.’

  She downs the vodka and throws the glass into the fireplace. I follow suit. We do it again and fall about laughing.

  We play drinking games and generally mess around. We don’t talk about Rob. We don’t talk about the past and we don’t try to look into the future. We stay strictly in the present. It’s the best time I’ve ever had with her. All that matters is here and now.

  I’m just thinking that, when she gets up to check her phone. I didn’t hear it; maybe she’s had it on silent. She checks the text messages and her face changes.

  ‘You’ll have to go.’

  ‘What time is it?’ I grope around for my watch. I lost it in some kind of forfeit.

  ‘12.30.’

  ‘Do I have to?’ I roll over and look up at her. ‘I thought I could stay. We could go in together.’

  I’m genuinely disappointed. To stay the whole night has become a bit of a mission. Now we are back together, I’ve got things I want to say to her.

  ‘So did I.’ She shows every sign of feeling the same way but she always was a good actor. ‘But it’s just not possible.’ She shakes her head and begins collecting my clothes. ‘I’ve just had a text. They got a late ferry. They’ll be back before morning.’

  ‘OK. OK.’ I’m hopping round, trying to get my leg down my trousers. That’s different. I don’t want to be caught by her mother and an irate stepdad.

  ‘See you tomorrow.’

  ‘Yeah. See you tomorrow.’

  She gives me a last kiss, her lips gliding over mine, smooth and dry like silk. When she looks up at me there are tears in her eyes.

  Chapter 35

  I don’t know what wakes me. My head is hammering and my mouth feels like the bottom of a badger sett. I roll over and check the clock. 7.00. Way too early. I go to roll back, to sleep again for another hour at least, when I hear it again. The sound that woke me. A message coming into my phone.

  I’m out of bed in a second and groping in my chinos’ pocket. It’s not from her. I sit back down on the end of the bed again, disappointed, thinking about the time I could have had, if only her folks had not been coming back. If only she had let me stay. It’s from Lee. What can she want?

  I open the message.

  Just seen ur bro @ C’s house

  I stare at it stupidly. I want to think there is a simple explanation, but can’t help assuming the obvious. She’s messing me around yet again. My stomach gets that hollowed-out feeling as I put down the phone and start dragging on my clothes.

  I jump on my bike. It’s early. There’s not much traffic about. I’m over there in record time. I punch in the combination and the gate swings open, closing behind me as I slip inside. I take a wary look at the upstairs windows but the blinds are shut. I skirt round her car parked in the drive. It wasn’t there last night, which is odd. No sign of her folks’ SUV. I go to the side gate. It has the same combination as the main gate. I enter the numbers, meaning to go round the back, see what I can spot through the windows. There’s no one downstairs. The big room is empty, so is the kitchen. I move round towards the conservatory. She sometimes forgets to lock it. The amount she had to drink last night that is a distinct possibility, although she has tidied up. The kitchen window shows bottles stacked next to the recycling bins and there’s no sign of the takeaway trays. The surfaces are clean. That’s not like her. When I left last night, the kitchen looked like a kebab shop on a busy night. Unless she doesn’t want Rob to know she’s been entertaining. But that is the only indication that he might be here. Maybe Lee was wrong about that and I’m wasting my time.

  Only one way to find out. I try the conservatory door, gently, slowly easing the handle. It’s one of those you have to push up and pull out a little bit. I hear the rods release. It is open.

  I glide in, careful not to make any noise. The door makes the faintest click as I close it behind me. No telltale creaking. UPVC does have some advantages. The door into the living room opens without a sound. No indication of last night’s carnage. Everything neat and tidy in here, too. I check out the lobby. No sign of the returning family – that was just a lie to get rid of me – but my rucksack is there, hanging from the coat rack. I’d forgotten all about that. I move towards the foot of the stairs with more confidence. I’m not a burglar or a deranged stalker; I have an excuse to be here.

  I’m just about to go up and confront them, when I hear noises. First Caro, then Rob. So he is here. I can’t hear what they’re saying. They are talking low, as if someone might overhear them. Considering there’s no one else here, that strikes me as strange. I get to the top of the stairs. Her bedroom is empty. The voices are coming from the little room at the end of the landing. Trevor�
��s study.

  ‘Are you ready?’ I hear him say.

  ‘Yes, I’m ready.’

  I go back down the stairs to wait. Maximum surprise.

  Rob comes down first. He’s carrying a holdall in one hand. A long gun case in the other. I feel an impulse to run and hide, but I stand my ground.

  He stops, genuinely rocked back. His grip on the gun case tightens.

  ‘What are you doing here?’

  ‘Could ask the same.’

  ‘It’s not what you are thinking.’

  ‘Oh, and what am I thinking?’ I can’t take my eyes off the gun case. I don’t know what to think.

  ‘It’s best if you go,’ he says. ‘Go now.’

  ‘Yes.’ Caro says from the stairs. ‘Go now. It will be better if you do.’

  I look up to where she’s coming down behind him. She’s wearing a combat jacket with the red star badge on it. Baader-Meinhof. The Red Army Faction. I’ve done my research. Urban guerrillas. Direct Action. Active in Germany in the 1970s. Killed I don’t know how many people. But it’s just an entry on Wikipedia, right? No one would be mad enough to pull stunts like that now.

  I look from one to the other. They are both wired. Whatever is going down here is deadly serious. It was all there for me to see, except I’ve been walking round like a man in a dream, looking at things, with no idea of their meaning or what they might signify.

  I remember the school website. Forthcoming Events at Egmont Academy. The Grand Opening. The VIP, a distinguished politician, honouring our school by coming to cut the ribbon.

  I should run while I still can, while they are both on the stairs. Get out of there, call the police, alert the authorities, but I don’t do any of that. Rob’s got guns. He won’t go quietly. There’d be a stand-off. A siege with armed police. SWAT teams. He’ll use her as a hostage. She could be killed, either way. I have to try and stop it right here. Now.

  ‘I’m not going anywhere.’

  ‘Yeah, you are.’ Rob looks down at me. ‘You’re going to school, like a good little boy.’

  Funny thing is, I think Caro might say something now, like Don’t go to school, even at the risk of giving it away, just to save me, but she doesn’t. I get a cold feeling, like my insides are congealing. She cares more about this, about whatever they are planning, than she does about me.

  ‘I know what you are going to do.’

  ‘Oh, yeah?’ Rob snarls. ‘What’s that?’

  They look at each other, then back at me.

  ‘I don’t know for sure, but I think you’re going to –’ I pause, trying to stop my voice from shaking at the enormity of what they are intending, at the strain of confronting them, putting it into words. ‘I think that you’re planning an attack on the school.’

  It sounds mad as it comes out of my mouth.

  ‘How do you know that?’ Rob’s voice is quiet, almost casual, but the words come out slow and ominous. He looks up at Caro. ‘You told him, didn’t you?’ He shakes his head slowly, like she’s disappointed him. ‘You stupid bitch.’

  ‘No, she didn’t tell me. I got a text from a friend saying you were here. I guessed the rest.’ I nod towards the gun he’s carrying. ‘Doesn’t take a genius.’

  He comes down the stairs towards me and I’m glad the gun is still in the case. His face is white and tight and he has that blank look in his eyes. I take a step away from him. I’m trying to be cool, but he’s scaring me.

  ‘You can’t do this,’ I say, trying to keep my voice low, stop it squeaking up into panic falsetto.

  ‘I think you’ll find we can.’

  ‘Let him go, Rob,’ Caro says from her place on the stairs. ‘He’s not part of this.’

  ‘No.’ He shakes his head. ‘No can do. He’s made himself part of it. Good thing I came equipped.’ He holds the bag up. ‘I got all I need to secure him. Duct tape, plastic ties for wrists and ankles.’ He looks around. ‘We’ll have to stow him here.’

  Caro shakes her head. ‘I just had a text from my mother. They got the night ferry. They could be back any time.’

  ‘Christ! I thought you said they were away for the week?’

  ‘Change of plan.’

  ‘For fuck’s sake! He’ll have to come with us, then. With me.’ He turns to her. ‘I’ll leave him up the multi-storey. Someone will find him eventually. No one jeopardises this operation. Not him. Not you. No one. You get me?’ He pushes me in front of him. ‘OK. Let’s roll.’

  We go out into the bright autumn morning. I see Caro shiver, either at the coldness of the air, or maybe the reality of what they plan to do is coming home to her. She touches the remote control that she keeps on her car keys and the gates glide open on a world that couldn’t be more normal. Men dressed in shirtsleeves are slinging briefcases and computer bags into the backs of their cars, hanging up their suit jackets. Mums are coming out to do the school run, packing kids into the back of people carriers, passing them bright new bags and shiny new lunchboxes, ready for the new school year.

  This is my last chance to stop this thing from happening. I refuse to get in the car.

  ‘Get in!’ He takes out a handgun from his pocket. His eyes flick to the happy families. ‘Or it starts right here.’

  I get in the car. He gets in the other side, moves over so he’s sitting behind me. I feel the end of the gun barrel, small and round and cold on the back of my neck.

  Caro tries to start the engine, the ignition squealing. She fumbles the gears.

  ‘Don’t go flaky on me,’ he says. ‘Time’s wasting.’

  She finally gets the car started and drives out on to the road.

  ‘Drive carefully now,’ he says to her. ‘Don’t do anything to draw attention and mind the speed bumps.’

  He jabs the gun into the back of my neck again. A reminder not to act up and not to turn round.

  ‘Why would you even think about doing this?’

  ‘Direct action,’ Caro supplies. ‘It is the only way to get people to pay attention. Propaganda of the deed.’

  ‘See how they like it,’ Rob says behind me. ‘Right, Caro?’

  ‘Violence is the only way to answer violence,’ Caro says, although she’s not sounding too sure, now it’s really going to happen.

  ‘That’s bullshit and you know it!’ I turn to look at her, even though he jabs the gun barrel in harder. ‘How’s this going to make a difference?’

  She doesn’t answer. Her grip on the wheel tightens. Anxiety makes her speed up and we bounce over one traffic calming device then another.

  ‘Slow down! I told you to watch that!’ Rob shouts from the back, his voice loud with something I’ve never heard there before. Something like fear. ‘Keep your speed down! There’s a load of explosives packed into the spare wheel!’

  ‘What?’ Caro turns her head to face him and the car swerves, hitting the kerb.

  ‘Fuck’s sake! I said – drive careful!’

  ‘You never said anything about a bomb!’

  ‘You wanted an operation. You got one. Violence is the only way to answer violence.’ He is parroting her words back at her.

  ‘A bomb? For Christ’s sake, Rob.’ I twist, trying to see him. ‘That’s crazy! The whole thing’s crazy! You’ve got to stop this right now.’

  ‘Don’t say that.’ He angles the gun up under my skull. ‘I’ve told you before.’

  ‘But why would you do that? Caro?’ I turn to appeal to her. ‘This is madness. You can’t do this. Think of all the people who’ll be there! All the people who could get killed!’

  ‘You shut up! You ain’t got no say in this. No say at all. I told you, didn’t I? Should have done me when you could.’

  ‘A bomb isn’t part of it. Was never part of it.’ Caro is trying to keep calm, but her hands are trembling, slipping on the wheel. ‘This was supposed to be a political operation, an assassination.’

  ‘Dead is dead. You said that yourself. What does it matter who or how many? See how they like it here, that’s wha
t you said. Direct Action. It is the only way to get people to pay attention.’ He’s quoting her words back at her again, taunting her with her own rhetoric. ‘You thought I weren’t listening, couldn’t understand all that political stuff you were laying on me. I was listening all right. I ain’t thick.’

  ‘I never said you were.’ She says it so quietly he can’t hear.

  ‘What’s that?’

  ‘I never said you were thick.’

  ‘Yeah? It’s what you think, though? Him, too. I’m just doing what you said you wanted. Do anything for you, wouldn’t I, princess? A bomb on home soil, in a school? That should do it. That’ll make a difference. That’ll get their attention. It certainly will.’

  Caro has no reply. Rob can’t see her face but I can. It is pale, like a mask, no expression, but her lips are trembling, tears beginning to slide down her cheeks.

  ‘You listen up,’ he says to her. ‘You listen to me and you listen carefully. This is what you are going to do. You will drop me and Jimbo at the multi-storey, then you will drive to the school. You will park your car on the side of the car park which is parallel to the drive.’

  ‘When is it set to go off?’ Her voice is far away, almost disinterested, as if she’s distancing herself from the whole thing.

  ‘10.15. I open up at 10.00. It’s a trick they use all the time out there. Double whammy. One thing goes down and everyone thinks that’s it. Just when they think it’s all over – kerboom! If one don’t get you, the other one will.’ He gives a low laugh, as if at something private, not meant to be funny. ‘I’ll be watching so no-show from you, car in the wrong place, anything don’t look right, and I start shooting, beginning with Jimbo. Any sign of trouble, things not going according to plan, he gets it first.’

  ‘And what if there are car checks? What if they stop me? Search the car?’ There’s that distance again, as if she’s talking about someone else who’s been given the task of driving a car bomb into a school.

  ‘That’s your problem, darlin’. You’ll think of something. Sweet talk them. Use your charm. Or schwack!’