—You know we’re going to find you. It’s Dave’s voice. I don’t say anything, just swill the chocolate mush around my mouth, avoiding swallowing it. —It was a mistake leaving the car near the shack. You should dump it somewhere, he says. —By the way, you’re right about The Met, it would look great if they filmed it round here. The car chases would look ace round some of these bends.
I don’t say anything.
—Are you alright? Becky says.
I must look worried because she seems concerned. Eventually I have to swallow the claggy paste. —Fine.
—You seem a bit distant.
—Me? No, why should I be?
—I’m enjoying myself, she says. —It’s funny, when you live here you take it all for granted. You look at all the tourists and wonder what all the fuss is about. Then, every now and again, you see it like they do. Mum’s from Suffolk, it’s really flat down there. Have you been?
—What’s that?
—All this, she says, and she waves her arms. She means the countryside. —Mum says we don’t know how lucky we are. It’s all flat farmer’s fields down there and pink houses.
I’ve read about that. The farmers have got rid of a lot of the hedgerows in order to make more arable land and this has led to the decline of whitethroats, linnets and yellowhammers.
—They look really sweet, she says. —Pink houses. But mum says they’re pink because the farmers mix pig’s blood with whitewash.
—Doesn’t it smell?
She shrugs. We wouldn’t waste good pig’s blood in Salford, we’d make it into black puddings. We sit in silence. I take out my book and flick through it. I can feel Becky’s eyes watching me.
—Let’s try something.
—What?
I lie down. Becky lies down too. She wants to know what we are doing. I explain that it’s an old trick. You play dead and it attracts the ravens. We lie there for a while, looking up at the sky, at the dramatic change of cloud formations. And it makes me think, it is just drops of water and yet it feels so substantial. I get kind of giddy watching the cloud formations change. Becky is cold and gets to her feet. I get up too.
Eagles and ravens are enemies although they prefer to live by a sort of truce most of the time. We see lots of rooks and carrion crow. We see a pair of goshawks, which isn’t bad going. But we don’t see Ashley traipsing across the moors. We don’t see Ashley at all. I’m thinking about what Dave has said, about the car, and about him and his mates finding us. But it wasn’t as though they saw us leave Kendal, so there’s no reason they would head out for Helvellyn.
One thing worries me about Dave, Ashley told me he had a radio device that picked up the police radio band – a scanner. If the car we stole has been reported, it’s likely that a call was put out to the police in the area, with a description of the car. Is it possible that Dave picked it up? I suppose it is. But it’s unlikely and I should try and stop myself from having these thoughts, they are not helping at all. Think about ravens, not Dave. They breed early and fly in flock displays around seven or eight in the evening around this time of year, according to the book. The ravens pair for life and make very loyal spouses and good parents, but if one of the old birds is shot or dies there is no nonsense about going into mourning. The survivor goes out and gets a mate straight away. I like this mix of practicality and loyalty.
I leave Becky watching for ravens. I head back to the shack. When I reach the shack I find Ashley standing some distance away in a clearing. He is throwing his knife at a tree trunk. I need to talk to him about what Dave has said. Ashley throws his knife, it hits the trunk but it doesn’t stick in and he walks over to recover it. He walks back to his spot.
As I approach Ashley he looks over to me, but there’s no real expression and I can’t read from it whether he’s been successful or not.
—Alright? I say.
He ignores me while he concentrates and throws the knife. It hits the trunk again, but it doesn’t stick in. I try again, —any luck?
He shrugs. He goes over to his knife and picks it up.
—We didn’t find any.
—Eh?
—Ravens.
—So.
He goes back to his spot.
—I’ve just heard from Dave. I wait for a response, but I don’t get one. —I think we need to dump the car.
—Fuck that.
Ashley throws the knife. It doesn’t stick in.
—I’ll do it if you like, I say. Not that I’ve ever dumped a car for that matter, but how hard can it be, you just find somewhere out on the moors and set it on fire. No, that’s probably not a good idea. A fire would attract attention. I could find a lake maybe, get out of the car and push it into the water. We are in the Lake District after all. I bet if you dredged these lakes there’d be hundreds of dumped cars at the bottom.
—What the fuck you doing with Becky?
—She’s one of us, I say.
—Bollocks. She’s just interfering. She’s got nothing to do with what we’re doing.
—She wants to find ravens too.
Ashley goes to the tree and picks up the knife. —Fuck ravens. We were alright on our own, he says. —Just the two of us running away from Dave. He goes back to his throwing position.
—What’s wrong?
—Nothing’s wrong.
—Yeah there is.
Ashley throws the knife. It hits the tree but it doesn’t stick in.
—Ok, I’ll tell you what’s wrong. Becky is what’s wrong. Sticking her nose in.
He goes to the tree and picks up his knife. He goes back to his throwing position. Becky is approaching now, behind Ashley. He doesn’t see her.
—She’s just some daft bitch you want to fuck. And I’m supposed to think that’s ok. Fuck her. Fuck you.
He throws the knife. It sticks in.
—You think she’s going to stay with you? Posh birds like that, they don’t want people like us.
I go to say something to Ashley but he walks off. He walks towards the shack.
—Where you going?
—Where do you think?
I pick up pace in order to keep up with him.
—How you going to convince that man to let us stay?
Ashley pulls out the bag of skunk and waves it in front of my face. He takes half of it and puts it into its own bag. He stashes the other half and keeps this half in his fist.
—But how do you know it’s going to work?
—I don’t.
—What you going to say?
—I’m not.
—What?
—You are.
He takes my hand and opens it out. He places the bag of skunk on my palm and folds my fingers around it. —Listen, if it doesn’t work so what, you’ve not lost anything. Say it’s just for tonight. I’ll wait here. He stands by a tree and pushes me towards the shack.
I traipse back to where I’ve left Becky. Ashley refuses to move from his spot. He’s becoming a pain now. I walk over to where she is standing.
—You were a long time, she says.
I go over to her and put my arm around her. We watch as dusk gathers behind the crags and the rooks travel over our heads. The sky is pink and grey and yellow and the clouds are low.
—I’ve got a surprise, I say.
Larks
Among their own tribe, ravens almost always have the company of their smaller companions. So it’s good that we are seeing lots of carrion crows and rooks. Ravens will attack them if their nesting sites are too close and there is a bit of competition for food, but other than that they seem to get on. The kettle boils and Becky mashes up the tea. She brings two mugs over, one for me and one for her. Ashley and the man are outside, sharing a spliff and watching the sun set.
He is called Smiler. It turns out he’s got a soft spot for skunk and it’s been a long time since he’s had any. Becky hands me a mug. The door of the pot-bellied stove is open and we stare into the flames as they darken the edges of the chunks of r
oughly chopped wood.
—I’ve got a text from my dad, Becky says.
I don’t say anything, just carry on staring into the flames.
—He wants to know if I’m coping alright on my own.
—What you going to say?
Ashley walks back into the room.
—It’s not a good signal in here, she says, —I’ll text him back.
I nod to Ashley, —Alright?
—Yeah.
—Wanna sit down?
—Nah, I’m alright.
He goes to the fire and pokes it with a stick. Sparks fly.
—I made you a cuppa, I say. I get up and hand him mine. Becky’s busy texting. Ashley takes a sip from the chipped mug then hands it back.
—So what do you want to do?
—Go somewhere else.
—Well, look, we can do. I just want to have a go at finding the ravens. After all, that’s why we’re here.
—What are you talking about?
He seems to have forgotten that’s the reason we’re in Helvellyn, because it’s good raven country.
—I don’t give a flying fuck about ravens, he says.
—We’re going to have another look for them tomorrow, but tonight, you decide what we do. Ashley stares into the flames now. —Listen, anything you want, tonight’s your night.
Ashley is in the back, me and Becky are in the front. I’m in the driver’s seat and Becky is in the passenger’s. It’s dark outside, but we’ve got the light on inside. We sorted things out with Smiler and he’s gone for a walk to the pub, about three miles down the road. Ashley wants to go for a drive, but the arrangement is that we find a good place to dump the car after.
—First things first, Ashley says.
I reach into my pocket and take out his stash. I sift through it and find a paper wrap.
—Is this it? I say. He takes it out and has a look.
—That’s the stuff, he says, and passes it back.
I reach over for a road atlas and open up the parcel. It contains a white-grey powder.
—I’ll have first shufty, he says.
It’s ketamine. None of us have ever had it before but in the spirit of adventure Ashley suggested we try it. Becky is up for it, but wonders what the effects are. There’s only one way of finding that out, I told her. I use Ashley’s knife to chop up the lines. As I chop I can feel apprehension build in my stomach. I’m not sure about this, but I don’t want Becky to pick up on my mood so I don’t let on. I don’t tell her it was Ashley’s suggestion.
—Don’t skimp on those lines, he says.
I look down at the lines I’m cutting, they look like fat lines to me but it’s too late now to back out. It’s quite crunchy and the blade keeps getting encrusted with ketamine crystals. I try and chop it as fine as I can.
—Aren’t we better doing a small line first. See how we come up?
Ashley shrugs. —Nah. In for a penny.
Becky gives me a look of apprehension and bites her bottom lip. I take her hand and give it a squeeze.
—It’ll be ok, I say.
The lines are ready. I take out a ten pound note and roll it up. Ashley has the first line. I take the atlas and the note and hoover up the line. It feels harsh, like snorting broken glass, not that I’ve ever snorted broken glass. I pass the atlas and the note to Becky. She hesitates. I nod to urge her on. She snorts her line and winces. I look around for any change. I hold on to Becky’s hand harder.
—It’s not working, Ashley says. —Let’s do another line.
—Hang on. Give it a minute to work.
We sit in silence. We stare at each other. We stare out of the window. I hold on harder to Becky’s hand. —Can you feel anything? I ask her. She shakes her head. She looks nervous.
—I’m having another, Ashley says.
He grabs the road atlas and the ketamine. He is about to chop another line but stops in his tracks. —Hang on, he says. He stares out of the window. He looks confused. And then there’s a general sense of awe and confusion. It’s like my mind is watching my body and watching everything else but is separate from it. My body feels mostly numb. Words form in my head but when I go to say them I can’t make the right noises.
We sit, I don’t know how long, it might be two minutes or two hours, wide-eyed in wonder at colour and fabric and shape. The shape between things. The pattern on the car seats. I’m aware of Becky. She looks confused. I want to comfort her, but I don’t know what that means any more. The word ‘you’ forms in my mind and looks for another word to join onto. And there it is, moving sluggishly over the horizon, the word ‘alright’ with a question mark. If I could just bring those two words together I could ask Becky if she was alright. I nudge the ‘you’ up the hill, but it rolls back down again. With great effort, I crawl towards ‘alright’. I try and edge it nearer to ‘you’, but the work is slow.
I stare at Ashley. He looks like a cartoon character. Is he a cartoon character? Perhaps he is. A Warner Bros cartoon not a Disney cartoon. Perhaps we are all in a cartoon and someone is drawing us. Dave. Dave is drawing us. Why did you think that? Where is he? He must be near to us. Don’t think about Dave. Think about anything other than Dave. Dave wants to kill us. Dave is going to kill us. Stop it. Stop thinking about Dave. Stop thinking about death. Dave. Death. Grass. Think about grass. Cool, wet grass. Flowers, the sun, a great crested sunset.
So dark outside. The windows reflect the inside. The outside feels more solid than the inside. The inside is the outside. Is Becky alright? She is staring at the ground. Wish I could talk. I can think but I can’t talk. She is sitting here. How near is she? Is she a very long way away or near by? I don’t know, she could be both. Dave is going to kill us. Does Ashley know? He must. Why don’t we talk about it? Because we can’t talk. Taken too much ketamine. Trapped inside my own skull. Going round and round in circles. Unable to communicate with the world, except to blink maybe. Like Stephen Hawking. But he doesn’t have to struggle to put ‘you’ with ‘alright’. He can just do it. But he’s not on ketamine. Everything makes sense if you let it come together. That’s it. Don’t force it. Let ‘you’ just drift towards ‘alright’. The landscape is changing. ‘Alright’ is sliding down the hill. Because it’s heavier than ‘you’. Sliding towards it. Gravity. Thank god for gravity.
I look at Becky again. Another cartoon character. She looks waxy. There is no subtlety or shade. Just an outline and a general impression. A mask. But she is my girlfriend. What does that mean? Focus on ‘you’ and ‘alright’. They are coming together. Almost there now. Then, as if by a miracle, I say it, —you alright?
She looks at me. Does she understand the question? Should I say it again? But it took so long to say it the first time. Don’t want to start that again. Just leave it.
—Fuck.
Ashley said, ‘fuck’. Was he answering my question or just saying it anyway? Fuck. Could mean ‘fuck’ or it could mean ‘fuck’. He is fucked. We are fucked. Maybe he has been trying to say ‘fuck’ for as long as I’ve been trying to say, ‘you alright?’ and it was just a coincidence. They both came out more or less the same time.
We stare at things again. We do this for a long time.
—Let’s... Go. Ashley says.
—Go?
—Yeah.
—Go?
I stare at Ashley.
—Out. Ashley says.
—Out.
I don’t know how long this goes on. I’m aware that Ashley is trying to open the door. I see him with the door handle. He touches it. He strokes it. Eventually he pulls it open. Why does he want to go outside? It is dark out there and cold. We can stay in the car. It is like opening a fridge door. I watch him try and move out of the car. Eventually he falls head first out of the car. I see him get up and cling to the door.
—Come on.
Ashley is saying, ‘come on’. I look at Becky. She looks at me. He wants us to come with him. Maybe we should go. We try and open the door. Becky can’t ope
n the door. I reach over. I manage to open the door. Somehow we get out of the car. I don’t know how long it takes us but it seems to take forever. Ashley is still clinging to the door. We are hanging half out and half in the car. There is a man. Smiler. He is walking towards us.
—What’s going on?
We look at him. He looks so big and heavy, like he has been made out of bricks and boulders and rocks. We stare at him. Ashley says, —on.
I say, —going.
We stare at Smiler again.
—What have you taken? He says.
—You... Taken. Ashley says.
We stare at him. He seems irritated by us.
Somehow Smiler has brought us back into the shack. I feel like a puppy saved from drowning. It is like we were all puppies in a bag thrown into a stream and now Smiler has come along and pulled us out. Cold and close to death. We are sitting at the table. Me and Becky. We both have a cup of tea. We’ve come round now but I still feel a bit dislocated. I hand Becky her mug and she holds it for comfort.
—You ok?
She looks traumatised. Like she has been in a car accident. I reach over and hold her hand. —I don’t feel too bad now. I say to her. I’m so glad the drug has worn off. Becky nods her head.
—Why do people do it?
—I’ve no idea.
Ashley is outside with Smiler, smoking a joint. Becky takes a sip from her tea.
—I’m not doing that again.
—Me neither.
We sit in silence and drink our tea. The door opens and Ashley walks across. He sits down at the table.
—Well, what did he say?
Seems like Smiler was annoyed at us taking ketamine and getting so wasted but only because we hadn’t invited him. It is still alright for us to stay the night. Ashley had to give him some more of the skunk. It feels good to be sitting near a fire with a mug of tea in my hand. I must focus on the ravens. All the rest is a distraction. Ravens are highly intelligent. It would never occur to a raven to snort ketamine and sit in a car for two hours. Ravens are transgressive in other ways though and this is maybe why they have fallen out of favour. Are ravens thieves? Well they probably wouldn’t see it that way, but their particular brand of opportunism certainly blurs the line. I put my arm around Becky and give her a hug. She feels soft and warm.
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