by A. D. Koboah
I carried on picking at my nail varnish.
“The unusual thing about this is that they were able to let themselves in with a key. There are only two people who have a key to this flat, apart from me and David, and that’s you and Mum. Now I know she wouldn’t give that key to anybody, so that leaves you. Don’t you have anything to say to that, Peace?”
“Like what, Barbara?”
I saw her jaw harden and she looked up at David before she answered me.
“Okay, I’m just going to have to spit it out. Did you give the keys to this flat to anybody?”
“No.”
“You’re lying,” David said, stating the obvious. “The police caught one of the men and he told them that a friend’s girlfriend gave them the keys to this house. Who else could that be but you?”
“Please,” I said with a small laugh. “For all we know you’re the one who gave those guys the keys. We know you don’t pay any bills round here. Maybe living off Barbara like you’ve been doing all these years isn’t enough anymore. Maybe you wanted another way to make money off her.”
“You cheeky little...” He took a step forward but was halted by Barbara’s hand on his arm.
“What concerns us is that the man they were talking about is a drug dealer,” she said. “And they think he might have got you hooked on something.”
“Rubbish,” I snorted. “I don’t know who gave—”
“Shut up!” she retorted in a low hiss.
Her eyes had narrowed dangerously, and although I have seen Barbara lose her temper often over the years, this was the first time I had ever seen her look this angry at me. I also saw something else in her expression. I saw disbelief as if she was looking at a stranger.
“You’re my sister. Do you think I can’t see that you’re on something right now?”
“You don’t know what—”
“Shut up and listen!”
She stood up and came to stand over me.
“How dare you? How dare you do this to us! I know these past few months have been hell,” she said as her voice rose. “But is that an excuse for getting involved with drugs? You gave some thief the keys to my flat, let some stranger in my house—in my things—and then you’ve got the cheek to lie to my face.” She stopped then and took a deep, quivery breath.
“I’m angry, really angry but I’m going to let this go because I know you’re still grieving. So this is what we’re going to do. I’m going to your flat to pack some clothes for you and you’re going to stay here with me and David, away from whoever it is that has led you astray. The only reason I’m not going to tell Mum is that she’s been through enough as it is.”
She stared down at me for a few seconds. “You don’t know how disappointed I am in you.”
I laughed then, laughed long and hard. The self-righteous anger left her and was replaced by bewilderment.
“I don’t fucking care if you tell Mum,” I said and leaned forward. “And I don’t care whether or not you’re disappointed in me,” I snarled, rage seeping into my voice.
My face was contorted with anger at her, at Dante’s unjust death, at my family and at the world. I must have been a frightful thing to behold, with all the hate I felt in that moment directed at anyone unfortunate enough to be before me at that moment.
“You’re not even like a sister. All you’ve ever done is tell me what I can or can’t do, and find fault with me and everything I do. I fucking hate you and your stuck-up, conceited, overbearing ways. You carry on like you’re perfect, like your shit don’t stink. You’re constantly looking down your nose at me and the decisions I’ve made. And you’re too busy looking at everyone else to see how fucked-up your own shit is. I mean look at him!” I gestured to David who was silently standing by the chair. “Look at the state of him. I mean, what were you thinking picking up that ugly wasteman and have him live off you as well! How desperate are you?”
“You know you’re this close, little girl,” David said, pulling his thumb and index finger an inch apart to demonstrate. “You keep talking.”
“Or what, David?”
“This isn’t about us. This is about you.” Barbara had found her voice again. “You can try and turn this away from you but it isn’t going to work. This is about you.”
“Fucking shut up. You don’t know anything about me. You know fuck-all.”
She snapped out of her daze, reached over and slapped me.
“Don’t ever talk to me like that again,” she hissed.
I rubbed my face as I stood up. Then I took a few steps forward until our faces were inches apart.
“If you ever touch me again, I swear to God I’ll fucking kill you,” I said menacingly in a voice as low and controlled as hers had been.
I saw fear in her eyes, fear that had made me feel powerful as it was the first time I had ever seen her appear afraid of me.
“I’m going,” I said and walked past them, deliberately bumping her with my shoulder as I passed.
When I reached the living room door I paused, anger the potency of snake venom coursing through me. I wasn’t finished with them. Before anyone had time to react, I walked over to a small wooden table and picked it up.
“And, Barbara, this is for what you said the day he died.”
She turned, her eyebrows furrowing, already anticipating what I was about to do.
“Peace!” she screamed a second before I walked over to the large mirror hanging on the wall and hurled the table at it.
The glass cracked, but it didn’t shatter as I had been expecting it to and I hit it again.
This time the mirror came off the wall and crashed to the floor. It barely missed me as shards of glass fell everywhere.
“Oh my God! Peace!” Barbara screeched.
I was unsure at the time whether her cry was out of fear that I might be hurt, or anger at the vindictiveness of my actions.
But of course, as I sat in the present in my silent flat besieged by memories, I knew it had been out of fear. I didn’t think about that at the time, and after the mirror frame crashed to the ground, I threw the table at them. It flew through the air, over their heads and crashed into the wall behind them before hitting the floor, sending bits of wood flying off in different directions.
“You fucking bitch!” David came running toward me but found Barbara blocking his path.
“David! David!” He threw her away with a toss of his hand but she came up again and hung on his arm, hindering his progress.
I didn’t wait to see how the rest of the drama I had created played out but walked out of the living room, down the corridor and out of the white house, not bothering to close her front door behind me.
Barbara and I had never been close and a lot of the time it felt as if we were on opposite ends of a chasm which neither of us wanted to bridge. My actions that day had broadened this chasm so it was wider than any ocean, and neither of us wanted to try and take that first step across it to the other for fear we would fall into the abyss.
I didn’t think about that as I had walked away from her flat, but I thought about it now as I replayed that memory again and again throughout the night.
It stayed with me the following day after Eva had left the flat to go to a lecture. Each time I replayed it, I remembered something new, and each time I recalled with agonising clarity the look on her face when I had thrown the little table at the mirror, and how scared she had been when it had come crashing down.
I stayed in bed for most of the morning with that shameful memory going round and round in my head. It had rained earlier, but although sunlight was now straining against the drawn curtains and was keen to fill the room, I left the curtains closed; preferring the company of the dimness I sat in, which accurately reflected my frame of mind.
I eventually crawled out of bed and took a bath. Then I put on my towelling robe and ventured into the kitchen to find something to eat. As I rummaged around in the cupboard, my attention was caught by the bottle of Jack Dani
el’s that had been left behind by Daniel what now seemed like years ago. My craving for H had returned as my mood had gotten lower and lower and I needed something to take my mind off the onslaught of memories, or to at least help me sleep for a few hours. I couldn’t have my little hit of heaven, but maybe alcohol would help give the rest of the day a nice warm glow.
I had poured myself a glass when the doorbell rang.
I froze. Pouring away the glass of Jack Daniel’s, I hid the bottle in the cupboard under the sink and crept to the door.
With my heart accelerating wildly, I looked through the keyhole.
I let out a relieved breath a few seconds later and opened the door.
“Jason,” I said, surprised but happy to see him.
“Hi,” he said looking at me carefully as I let him in and closed the door.
He was so incredibly handsome and I had the strange feeling that I was looking at him for the first time.
“How come you’re not at work?” I asked as I followed him down the corridor and into the living room.
He sat down on the sofa whilst I stood by the door facing him.
“I’ve got a few days off. How are you feeling?”
“A lot better. The worst is over, but it’ll probably be a few weeks before all the withdrawal symptoms stop. How are you?” My voice was low and I was only able to meet his gaze fleetingly.
“I’m good.”
An awkward silence followed. I fidgeted.
“Eva asked me to check up on you ’cos she won’t be around today. I’m just passing through though, not staying for long.”
I nodded and was conscious of my towelling robe and of how different things had been the first time he had come here.
“Have you been out since—?”
I shook my head. I had been afraid to leave my flat, which had become a safe haven, as I tried to recover and get back to the self I had hidden for so long under drugs. I was also fearful of bumping into old acquaintances.
“Why don’t we go for a walk?”
I hesitated. “Um... Okay. Give me five minutes.”
On leaving the flat, I put my arm through his. He glanced at me, but didn’t object. As we walked out of the estate and down the road, his pace slowed considerably to match mine, I leant on him heavily not out of a need, but to be as close to him as I possibly could in those circumstances. I liked the feel of his strong arm against mine, his warmth and strength as we walked through the quiet neighbourhood.
Most people had already left for work. The school run was over and everything was still and peaceful. It was a chilly day, but now the sun was gracing us with its presence and everything looked fresh and clean after the morning rain. I realised I was extremely happy to be alive and I breathed in and savoured the cool air in my lungs and on my face.
The short walk led us to a small park nearby and I found that when I sank onto the park bench under some trees, I felt quite tired by it. He sat down beside me and we both looked out over the greenery. I saw a children’s play area hidden off to the side and I stared mournfully at it for a few minutes, reminded again of what I had lost until Jason spoke.
“Should we go and sit somewhere else?”
“Why?”
“The kids’ area. It was kinda insensitive of me to let us sit here and remind you of—”
“Jason, everything reminds me of Dante. It’s all right, honest,” I said and smiled.
My gaze was invariably drawn back to the play area, but knowing that Jason was still watching me, I forced myself to look away and around the rest of the park. I saw a grey squirrel bounding toward a band of trees, seeing a glimpse of a bright glassy eye and a flash of grey before it darted up a tree and out of sight. And I saw a spider’s web between the legs of another park bench. The earlier rain had left droplets of water on the junctions where each silvery strand traversed the next, the drops of water looking like pearls dotting the intricately spun design. A cool breeze blew into us and unsettled the branches of the trees nearest to us, making the leaves rustle gently and sway to and fro as if they were in animated conversations with each other.
It felt as if I was seeing everything for the first time through new eyes.
I glanced at Jason to find him staring at me. Caught off guard, he quickly looked away.
“So what do you do at home when Eva’s not around for company?” he asked.
“Not much. My sleeping pattern’s still messed up, so I don’t sleep much. I read a lot. I sometimes watch daytime TV but apart from Deal or no Deal, there’s not much to watch,” I answered with a chuckle.
“Deal or no Deal?” he asked, looking puzzled.
I shrugged, remembering that like most people, he spent most of his day at work or doing something constructive.
“Just a game show,” I said and looked away.
“What kinda books are you into?”
“Um... I read everything. I’m reading Liar’s Game by Eric Jerome Dickey at the moment.”
“Is it any good?”
“Yeah, I like it but my head’s all over the place and I get tired when I read for too long. So I read a lot of the poetry books Eva’s got, like Derek Walcott, Grace Nichols...stuff like that.”
“Hm, you ever read anything by Langston Hughes?”
“No. I’ve heard of him, but I haven’t read any of his stuff.”
“Well, I’ve got some of his books, I think you’ll like it so I’ll pass by with it.”
“Thanks,” I said, hoping this meant I would have another visit from him in the near future. “So what’s your favourite book, ever?”
“Without a doubt it has to be Toni Morrison’s...”
“Beloved,” we said in unison before a small hush fell.
“I’ve read it so many times,” I said after a few seconds. “But every time I read it, I find something new I didn’t pick up before.”
“Yeah,” he said, smiling gently. “It’s deep, it’s definitely the best book I’ve read.”
Another small spell of silence passed before he spoke again.
“I saw Waiting for Godot on the sofa, was that one of yours as well?”
“No, definitely not. It’s one of Eva’s uni books I made the mistake of reading. It was as boring as hell. I made sure I dashed that one down straight away.”
“Yeah, but that’s the whole point. He’s the kind of writer that if he wants to tell you something is boring, he won’t just tell you, he’ll show you by making sure you’re just as bored.”
“Oh,” I replied, feeling stupid. There seemed to be so much I didn’t know, so much I had missed over the last few years whilst I had been living my life in a haze. “Well, he did a good job because I was definitely bored. Is there anything you don’t know by the way, Jason?” I asked.
He smiled, seeming slightly embarrassed at the compliment and I didn’t feel as stupid.
We stayed talking for a while under the trees before we walked slowly back to my flat.
The neighbourhood had woken up by that time and we heard the usual cacophony of noises, a car whizzing past and a dog barking as people came out onto the streets on a mission to achieve whatever needed to be done before the day could end.
He saw me to my door and stood awkwardly behind me as I fumbled with the keys.
I didn’t want him to leave, but didn’t feel confident enough to ask him to stay without having my intentions misconstrued.
“I’m gonna shoot off now,” he said before I could ask him inside.
“Okay. Um…thanks for...” He nodded and looked down at his feet.
“I’ll make sure I pass by with the book, or if I see Eva before then I’ll give it to her.”
“Oh, okay. Thanks,” I said, the hope of another visit from him gone now. “Bye.”
Unable to carry on fumbling with my keys for any longer, I opened the front door.
“Take care of yourself,” he said and sauntered out of my line of vision.
I let myself back into the flat.
> It seemed a lot smaller, gloomier and quieter than before and much, much more oppressive. I definitely wanted the warm glow a glass of Jack Daniels could give me. But seeing Jason again made me feel ashamed for wanting to take the edge off my boredom and depression with alcohol. So I headed straight for the kitchen where I emptied the bottle of Jack Daniels down the drain. In the days since my withdrawal symptoms had peaked, I’d had cravings, but heroin no longer had the same hold on me that it had before. I could resist the cravings, but that didn’t mean that my battle with it was over and the worst thing I could do to myself was try and find myself a substitute. It was time to learn how to deal with my problems like normal people did.
I sighed and walked into the bedroom, removed my coat and climbed into bed. I spent the next hour or so staring up at the ceiling listlessly, letting unpleasant thoughts dominate my mind until I reached for a book by the bed. It seemed to take an interminable length of time before the day was over and I could escape the world into sleep. But even then, sleep remained elusive as I was filled with anxiety about a visit that needed to be made. I had tried to put it off, but I couldn’t avoid it for much longer.
I had to go and see my mother and sister.
Chapter 26
We left the house late the following afternoon to catch a bus that would take us to my mother’s house, the farthest I had ventured from home since getting clean.
Everything looked and smelled different and it felt as if I was seeing everything with new eyes, perhaps as Sleeping Beauty would have seen the world after having woken up from her deep sleep. Trees that were previously naked had been re-clothed with emerald green leaves and some with blossom. The sun was shining, not merely giving the illusion of warmth but was also forcing back the winter chill that had previously reigned over London as spring fully claimed the land.
Walking into the centre of town was like walking into a carnival. The streets were throbbing with people and as we walked through the market, we were assailed by the familiar colours, sounds and smells, the colourful diverse food on display, the various stalls selling clothes or household goods and the melee of colourful faces that surrounded us.