“What would you know about what I want?” he sneered.
“Come on, Luke,” I said as calmly as my tremulous voice would allow. “Stop playing games. It’s me. You know it is. You’ve known it all along.”
I took a step down, moving in close to him. “I know it sounds crazy. And I don’t fully understand how it’s happened, myself. But…well…I’m back…if you still want me.”
“Stop it, Mel. I’m warning you…”
“No, you stop it, Luke,” I said. “You know it’s true.” I grabbed the front of his jacket, looking up into his face. “You knew it the very first time you saw me.” I stared right into his eyes, willing him to feel that same recognition, that spark.
But Luke pulled away roughly, turning from me, heading back into the rain, climbing onto his bike again.
“Look at me!” I followed him, pulling at his sleeve, trying to make him face me, but he pushed me away.
But then, suddenly, my voice changed. And though my lips moved, I was not the one speaking. It was her, speaking out through me. “It’s me, Luke,” she said. “Inside. It’s Billie.”
He stopped and turned, his face white.
“Hold me, Luke,” she cried. “Hold me.”
I stared into his eyes, forcing him to recognise the spirit of Billie within me. And he must have seen her, for suddenly he gave an involuntary cry and his arms were round me, drawing me to him, pulling me onto the front of the saddle as he held me tight in the pouring rain.
“Billie!”
And so strong were his emotions, that for a tiny fraction of a moment my body yielded, forgetting all that had happened before, falling deeply into the overwhelming bliss of being so completely adored. Wallowing in his love. Drowning in it…
Until suddenly I was back on the swing at the Cauldron, the water crashing down on me, pouring into my mouth and nose. And Luke the puppet master was pulling my strings and laughing.
Billie. She had sent this vision to me. Surely. Snapping me out of my momentary weakness. My human need to be wanted. To be loved.
Disgust reared up in me. What was I doing? This man didn’t love me. He was incapable of love.
And so I broke away from him, slipping off the bike and heading back to the steps.
“Billie -” He reached out to try to stop me, but I was too quick for him.
“Come on,” I said in my own voice now, making a huge effort to smile. “Let’s get out of the rain.”
Racing up the steps to the ticket office, Luke unlocked the door with his keys. While he fiddled about, opening a box on the wall and flicking switches to illuminate the caves, I checked my appearance in the window again. I was more than a little rain-damaged now. My hair was wet and tangled, and without my straighteners, the long layers were beginning to flick out in different directions. And some of the dye had already washed away so that the stripes seemed less startling now. Less in-your-face. The eye-make-up had fared a little better, but even twenty-four hour waterproof couldn’t withstand that amount of rain, so that the edges were now less precise, more blurred: smudged-looking.
In a way, the rain had done me a favour. I now looked more like Billie.
But now Luke was rummaging through a stack of CDs on a shelf.
“What do you fancy?” he asked, smiling at me.
“You choose.”
I watched as his hand hovered over one or two; but then he found one he really wanted. He pulled it out and held it up, grinning. “It’s still here,” he said. “After all this time.”
It wasn’t a CD I knew - some kind of compilation, but I smiled encouragingly, and Luke loaded it into an old, portable player.
Then he grabbed a couple of hardhats, throwing one to me and keeping the other for himself, brushing his wet hair back out of the way as he put it on, so that I caught a glimpse of the scar again. An old scar, from a wound I’d inflicted upon him in a time before I was even born.
And then, using another key to unlock the metal gates, he took me by the hand and led me into Hell’s Mouth.
The caves seemed even colder than last time, and they were wetter due to all the rain seeping down from above. The thick, sickly-pale walls ran with water, which pooled across the flowstone, glistening like slime. And below the metal grid on which we walked, the stream gushed more loudly than before, overflowing in places, rising up over the grating so that our feet were splashing through puddles. Even the air itself felt heavy with damp. My jeans clung to me, unable to dry out, my hair trickling icy water down my back.
It was as if we were under the ocean, the more pitted flowstone and coiling helictites resembling a strange coral reef, the cave draperies like mysterious, deep sea creatures.
I took a deep breath, trying to get more oxygen to my lungs, but the air seemed thick and waterlogged.
But now we had come to Lucifer’s Tongue. We paused before it, watching as the water trickled down, building quickly to a visible drip and falling, down to the stream below us. It was much faster than before.
Luke laughed at my hesitation. “Come on,” he said. “You first.”
Like last time, I knew it was just a stupid story, a superstition created for the tourists, but I still didn’t want to tempt fate. Not right now. So I waited for the right moment, just after a drop had fallen, and hurried through, pulling Luke after me. But we weren’t fast enough, the next drip coming almost at once, splashing between us, onto our joined hands.
I looked at Luke, but he just laughed. “Don’t worry,” he chuckled. He brought our hands up to his mouth and licked the drop from them. “The devil doesn’t frighten me.”
But I couldn’t be so blasé about it. It was a sign. An omen. A reminder that any union with Luke was cursed. And so the connection had to be severed. Here. Today. By me.
And so we reached Darwin’s Parade, where the cave roof was so low we had to crouch down. Immediately I felt claustrophobic, my breathing becoming even more laboured, turning to quick panicky gasps, desperate to inhale enough air. It was like being buried alive. Suffocated. Drowned.
Soon we had reached the other side and could stand straight again, but my feeling of breathlessness continued as the Gargle rumbled towards us, louder today, the sound of seething, roiling water echoing all around us.
The noise grew louder and louder as we continued, my head becoming dizzy as its deafening roar caused memories to swirl around my mind. The car smashing down the bank, the river gushing in; Mum crying out to me, her voice spluttering and choking as the river engulfed her; my mouth and nose filling up with water as I dangled in the Cauldron; the sound of the Changing Well, with the water streaming over the flowstone and crashing down to the pool below, the encrusted teddy bear dancing its voodoo ritual on the line. And I experienced again Billie’s intense feeling of terror at how Luke would punish her. A punishment which had somehow led to her death.
And so, gradually, my mother’s pleas turned into Billie’s inside my head, eclipsing all other noise: “Help me!” she cried. “Help me!”
And at the sound of her voice, I came to my senses. I wasn’t here to relive my own harrowing memories; I wasn’t here to wade through my own pain. I took a huge, calming breath, exhaling slowly, ridding myself of all other emotions. I was here for one thing only: to help Billie. To avenge her death.
And so, with renewed determination, I followed Luke through the narrowing passageway, and finally onto the viewing platform of the Hall of Teeth.
30
The last time I’d been here I’d seen very little, just a few glimpses over other people’s shoulders. But this time, there were only the two of us on the platform, and I could see it in its entirety, a huge cavern over which dangled a thousand spikes. And though I knew they were made from re-formed limestone deposits, they looked like crystal as the water trickling over them sparkled. Like needles of ice. Cold and sharp. A legion of daggers, their thin blades shining.
And so we took off our hardhats and stood, Luke behind me with his arms around my wais
t, our heads side by side, just looking.
“It’s beautiful,” I said. And it was. Beautiful, yet cold and cruel.
“You’re beautiful,” he said, turning me gently so that I was facing him and he could look into my eyes. “The most beautiful thing in my life.”
I gave him my sweetest smile, but the bitterness inside me was taking a firm grip on my heart, twisting it, ringing all the softer emotions out of it, so that they dripped away, leaving it hard as flint. And I laughed to myself: he hadn’t even noticed that he’d just called me a thing. His possession. To treat as he pleased.
“Drinks!” I said, pulling away and taking off my bag, opening it to find the bottles of Coke. Holding one by the scratched lid, I gently shook it a couple of times as I took it out and handed it to him.
As he turned away, first taking off his waterproof jacket and then crouching down to put on the CD, I carefully hoisted myself up so that I was sitting on the railing of the scaffold where it formed a right angle, a corner jutting out over the cavern. A shudder ran through me. It was way too high. Tucking my feet under the next rung to help keep me steady and holding the Coke bottle between my knees, I took hold of the carabiner clips already fixed to the back of my belt, attaching the free end to the rail, checking it a couple of times to make sure it was secure. I only hoped it was strong enough for my purpose.
When Luke returned, he leaned on the railing next to me, and we looked out over the Hall of Teeth as loud rock music echoed around us.
I watched out of the corner of my eye as he took a mouthful of his drink, praying that he wouldn’t notice anything. But there was no reaction. Obviously the tablets hadn’t affected the taste.
I looked down at the cave floor thirty metres below, a rocky terrain, the result of some kind of landslide or collapse in the past, thinking about Billie’s body lying there, dead. I shuddered, looking anxiously at Luke, wondering what he was thinking about.
“I’ve been back a few times, you know,” he said, taking another large swig of his Coke. “Standing here, alone, thinking about you.”
He was talking to me as if I were Billie. Not Melissa. The real me didn’t seem to exist for him now. He didn’t even ask how or why. In fact he didn’t question it at all. And it didn’t seem to matter whether I spoke in my own voice or not. He simply looked at me and all he could see was her.
I guessed it had been like that all along, really.
“I’ve missed you, Billie,” he said suddenly, his voice cracking with emotion. “I’ve been so lonely without you.”
And so, though I detested this man with every fibre of my being, I opened my arms out to him. With a cry, he fell into them like a child seeking comfort, his face burrowing into my neck. And so I held him to me as he trembled and shook.
“Shh,” I said gently. “I’m here now.”
And as I soothed him, stroking his hair rhythmically, repetitively, almost in a trance-like way, the introduction to the next song began. Billie’s song. Nirvana: Come as You Are. And as it filled the cavern with its haunting melody, I marvelled at how much Luke had missed her. At how his grief had brought him so low, that he was ready to believe, without question, that I was Billie. That she had come back to him. And that, after everything that had happened, she still loved him.
Gradually his shuddering ceased and his breathing returned to normal. He straightened up, wiping his face with his hand and taking a long, hard drink of Coke, greedily swallowing until the bottle was empty.
I put the lid back on mine and passed it to him and then watched as he took them both, putting them on the floor with our other belongings.
As he bent down, he stumbled slightly, putting out his hand to steady himself. Nothing much - just a little imbalance. But it was a good sign that the pills were starting to work.
And then he came back to me - taking my hands in his, kissing my palms and then my wrists as he moved them, placing them around his neck as he moved in, looking at me, deep into my eyes, searching for Billie, drinking her in when he found her. And then, tilting my face to his, he kissed me. A beautiful kiss. Almost like love.
But I wasn’t fooled this time. Luke couldn’t love anyone. And his kiss turned my stomach.
But we continued, Luke gradually becoming more passionate, his body pressing against me, his hands grasping at my hair, pulling my head back as he kissed my neck and throat as if he would almost devour me in his effort to get to Billie. To be close to her once more. After all their time apart.
And I let him. I endured it all, silently, passively, yet all the time wishing for it to be over. I felt disgusting. Dirty. Used. But I knew that resistance wasn’t a good idea - yet.
And gradually the pills started to take more effect, his movements becoming clumsy. Not enough to complete my plan yet - but soon…
But then a different track came on - something faster, louder, almost savage - and Luke grew more passionate still, more intense, rougher - his mouth grinding and biting at mine until he was actually hurting me.
And then his hands began to work their way down from my hair to my neck to the front of my coat, tugging at the zip, creeping their way inside, pulling my striped top up so that they could slip underneath it, sliding over my bare flesh.
I drew my breath in sharply, frightened about where this was leading, hating the feel of his fingers rasping against my skin.
But Luke smiled, as if I had given a gasp of pleasure, oblivious to my disgust. Or simply not caring.
Instinctively, though it was still too soon to put my plan into action, I began to squirm, trying to pull his arm away. But his hand immediately returned to the same place.
I tried again, too terrified to let this go on any longer, any further; but he was insistent, greedy to explore.
“No,” I said, pushing him away more forcefully this time.
“Come on, Billie.” He tried to shove his hand back inside my clothing, actually ripping a seam in his haste to get to my body.
“No!”
And so we struggled, Luke becoming more and more aggressive as it finally sunk in that I meant it, that I was actually rejecting him.
“Billie!” Suddenly he slapped me across the face, hard, so that I had to grab hold of the front of his jacket to avoid losing my balance on the railing.
But still I refused to submit.
“I’m warning you, Billie!” Suddenly he grabbed me by the throat, pushing me backwards so that I was leaning over the thirty-metre drop.
“Luke. Stop it. Please.”
His fingers dug into my neck, hurting me as he bent me further back. “No, Billie, it’s your own fault. You have to learn.”
Still holding on to me, he climbed up onto the first rail so that he could lean right over me, into my face, his weight pushing me even further back over the drop. “What did I tell you?”
When I didn’t answer, his hands at my throat tightened so that I had to gasp for air. “Remember, Billie. What did I tell you?”
“I, I don’t know…”
He leaned further over me, his face almost touching mine. “Three things. Three simple little things, Billie. And yet we’ve had to go over them time and time again.”
“I…I…”
“Number one: you belong to me. Remember? You’re mine.”
“I…I…”
“Number two: you do as I say - whatever and whenever I say it.” His mouth moved to the side of my face and I tried desperately not to flinch as he put out his tongue and licked my skin, a long, slow wet trail from the bottom of my cheek up to my ear.
And there he whispered, soft and menacing: “Whatever and whenever… Remember?”
Terrified beyond words, I gave an involuntary whimper at which he laughed, delighted at my obvious fear.
“And number three. Do you remember, Billie? Surely you haven’t forgotten this one? You’ve had seventeen years to think it over. To regret what you did. What you said right here in this cavern. Number three: you never, ever try to leave me.”
<
br /> My eyes widened. So that was what Billie had wanted to ‘tell him’. That they were over. Finished. That she was leaving him.
So I guessed hanging up the bear was part of it. Like plunging in at the deep end. A way to force her own hand, to make sure she stuck to her resolve, went through with it. As she said in her diary, she now had ‘no choice’ but to ‘explain’. After all, having destroyed his gift, her punishment would already be immense, so why not take it further. Terminate their relationship. It’s not as if he could get any angrier…
But Luke wasn’t finished with me yet. Snickering, proud of himself, he twisted my head so that from the corner of my eye I could see down to the drop below me. “Well I showed you Billie,” he said. “I showed you.”
And then I finally understood it all. Billie hadn’t slipped from his hands at all. He’d let her fall.
She’d tried to leave him, and so he’d killed her.
Panic gripped me like a vice. He’d murdered Billie. And here we were, Luke holding me over the very same height - and the only difference between the two scenes was a pair of carabiner clips.
Instinctively I began to struggle again, even more wildly this time, desperate to get him off me. But my efforts only incensed him further.
“I did it once!” he shouted in my face. “And I can do it again.”
Slow and lumbering from the tablets, he clambered up another rung of the scaffolding, so that he could hold me even further over the drop, arching me backwards so that I cried out in fear and pain, grabbing tight hold of his coat, terrified; if he let go now, I would certainly fall back.
On hearing my terror, he began to laugh again. A stupid, drunken sound. Revelling in his triumph. His power over me. His mastery.
“Oh yes, I’ll show you, Billie.”
It was now or never. I had to make my move.
Struggling to pull my head forward, I looked into his face. “Don’t call me Billie,” I hissed. “My name is Melissa.”
Then, still holding on to the front of his jacket, I unhooked my feet and pulled sharply, lunging myself backwards over the rail, into the void, pulling the poorly-balanced and startled Luke with me.
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