Saving Daisy

by Phil Earle

  I tried to let it all wash over me and accept they were here for the same reasons as us, to get slaughtered, but unlike Naomi I kept my guard a little higher and my hips further away from theirs.

  Now our two had become six, it was becoming difficult to stay anonymous. A couple of the lads had quick tongues, loud ones too, and once the jokes started we stood out more than we should have. If we’d had any sense we might have called it quits and moved on, but now that the drinks were free and fresh from the bar … well, we got greedy. And pissed.

  Naomi was the first one to start weaving, and though it was funny to us, it started to rankle with those around us. At first it was just raised eyebrows, which soon escalated into snide comments. But it was once she started dancing – a mixture of pogoing and grinding that involved treading on toes and spilling drinks – that the trouble started. A couple of groups told her to watch herself before backing away to safer ground, but one woman, who seemed to have got dressed in the late 1980s and forgotten to change, wasn’t quite as forgiving. To be fair to her, she was now wearing the drink that she’d been holding, thanks to Naomi, and it was enough for her to walk forward and have words.

  ‘Oi, you bloody idiot. Look what you’ve done!’

  Naomi forced her eyes to focus before cutting the woman down with one swift sentence.

  ‘Sorry, love,’ she slurred. ‘I didn’t get you dressed tonight, so don’t blame me for what you’re wearing.’

  Our new friends howled their approval, and Naomi turned to take their applause, turning her back to the woman momentarily, long enough for her to grab Naomi by the hair.

  What followed happened in a flash, even with our senses slowed by the drink. As the woman yanked on her curls, Naomi swung instinctively, her arm arcing wildly. Her fist slammed into the woman’s cheek. She folded instantly. As her friends poured round her, trying to restore her to her feet, I grabbed Naomi by the arm and spun her towards the exit. We were getting out of there while we could still walk.

  Unfortunately, the lads we’d just befriended chose to come with us.

  Chapter 34

  Naomi might have been wrecked, but she managed a swagger as we headed back along the seafront.

  ‘That’s the secret, you see,’ she slurred. ‘When someone grabs you, you have to go at ’em fast. The last thing they’re expecting when they’ve got you by the hair is for you to swing back.’

  The lads all nodded, hanging on her every drunken word, but it was my attention she wanted.

  ‘You’ll remember that, won’t you, Daisy?’

  She grabbed on to my arm and I smiled weakly.

  ‘I said you’ll remember that, won’t you? Cos you know what the problem with you is, don’t you?’

  I wondered where she was going to start, so said nothing.

  ‘Too bleedin’ soft. I could see that from the second you arrived. If you want to survive you have to toughen up. You feel me?’

  There was a weird pleading in her eyes, no doubt the effect of the minesweeping, and it wasn’t worth doing anything except agreeing.

  ‘You two flatmates, then?’ one of the lads asked.

  I think his name was Ryan. He hadn’t paid me much attention, had spent most of the past half-hour making Naomi laugh by whispering in her ear. Either that or he’d had his tongue in it.

  I had no idea how to answer his question but Naomi happily played along.

  ‘Bezzy mates, me and Daisy,’ she yelled. ‘Known each other ages. Practically sisters, aren’t we?’

  ‘Couldn’t be closer,’ I said, smiling. Funny how alcohol blurred everything.

  ‘Is your flat near here, then?’ one of the others asked. ‘I reckon you must owe us a drink after the ones we shouted you back there.’

  I saw Naomi’s eyes spin as she fought for an answer.

  ‘We live in town,’ I butted in. ‘So unless you fancy a twenty-quid cab, then I reckon we’ll have to call it a night.’

  ‘No need for that,’ said a grinning Ryan, attaching himself to Naomi’s hip. ‘My gaff’s only a couple of minutes away and I reckon I’ve still got some sauce in the fridge if you’re up for it.’

  I was ready to step in and make our excuses, but Naomi got in first, her stride picking up at the talk of more drinks.

  ‘Sorted. We’re up for owt, aren’t we, Dais?’

  ‘That’s what we like to hear,’ said Ryan, the excitement bubbling in his voice.

  I reckon if they’d been any more sober they’d have carried us. Anything to get us there before we came to our senses.

  It was clear to me what they were after, and they weren’t all disgusting-looking, just drunk and leery. Whatever their intentions, they weren’t lying about living nearby, as within minutes we were being led up the stairs of a crumbly old terraced house.

  After wrestling with a second lock, we were inside Ryan’s flat, which was a typical boy’s pad. He obviously wasn’t short of a bob or two, or his parents had forked out to set him up. There were gadgets everywhere: laptops, flat-screen telly, Blu-ray player, and the largest DVD collection I’d ever seen. Well, the second largest after Dad’s. I pushed the thought of him away before it sobered me up.

  I was drawn to the films while the others piled into the kitchen, returning with bottles of beer and crisps. While the lads looked ecstatic, Naomi had a piercing expression on her face, handing me a beer with one hand and gripping my wrist a little too hard with the other.

  ‘Stop looking like such a goon, will you?’ she spat.

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘Look at this place. There’s amazing shit everywhere and a fridge rammed full of beer. And you head to the films. You’re not in Blockbuster, you idiot.’

  ‘Well, what do you want me to do?’

  ‘Just look cool, will you? Otherwise they’ll kick us out.’

  I doubted that somehow. I didn’t get the sense that they often persuaded girls past the front door.

  They collapsed on to the sofas and Ryan fiddled with a remote control, looking smug when his iPod dock roared into life. Reluctantly, I pulled myself from the films and fell on to a beanbag, wondering how long it would take for Naomi to get bored.

  A beer and a half later we were still slumped in the same place, although I seemed to have re-found my beer goggles and was having a decent time.

  All right, they weren’t exactly boy band material, but they weren’t arseholes or anything, and Ryan certainly knew how to stock a fridge with booze, as it didn’t stop coming, along with the laughs.

  Naomi sat at the centre of it all, and even though she was struggling to speak, the lads still hung on every word she managed. But there was no doubt who was in pole position there. Maybe it was because we were in his flat, but it soon became evident that Naomi was off limits to anyone but Ryan. So much so that two of the others started paying me a bit of attention, offering me fags or another beer. Everything a pissed girl could want.

  I should’ve been wiser to it, I know, but my head was mashed and I barely seemed able to take a breath without another beer landing in front of me.

  It got worse when one of the empties was plonked on the table and spin the bottle began. Every time it teetered to a stop, it seemed to be pointing at me, leaving me no option but to drink, the lads cheering as the lager frothed up my nose and eventually down my throat.

  I’ve no idea how many bottles I drained in the process; all I knew was that I was having fun. The kind of fun that you can’t say no to, and it was such a relief to be out of control and enjoying it, rather than feeling the need to cut myself, that I didn’t stop, even when I found myself stumbling down the hall in search of the toilet or anything I could throw up in.

  The porcelain was cold on my cheek. My leg was thrown over the side of the bath and when I tried to stand it buckled beneath me. It had clearly been sleeping as deeply as I had.

  I focused on my watch. It was nearly
two in the morning, so I must have been out for at least … I couldn’t work it out, and didn’t want to either. I just wanted my bed, even if it was bolted to the floor.

  Stamping the blood back into my limbs, I dragged myself out of the bathroom and into the small kitchen. I turned on the cold water, twisted my head and slurped straight from the tap, hoping it would revive me, sober me up, do something that took away the traces of death in my skull. Oh my God. If I felt this bad now, how was I going to feel in the morning? Or face Eric and the others to explain why we’d done a runner?

  The need to be at Bellfield overwhelmed me and I hoped desperately that Naomi felt the same. And if I couldn’t persuade her? Well, I just hoped I had enough change in my pocket for a taxi, or at worst a night bus.

  Swallowing a fresh wave of bile, I pushed my head round the door into the lounge. Although the lights were low, I could see Naomi slouched on the settee, with Ryan leaning over her.

  I groaned. If she copped off with him there would be no chance of getting her out. I thought about heading straight for the door, but then I looked again and realized that she wasn’t kissing him. She was asleep and Ryan was doing everything he could to wake her up.

  He tried a number of tactics. Kissing her, licking her ear (I felt the bile rise again), pinching her arm gently, then harder and harder, until he was practically giving her a Chinese burn. Each time she remained unresponsive I could see his temper flare a little more, until he turned to his mates and told two of them to grab an arm each.

  ‘Unbelievable,’ he snapped. ‘She’s absolutely sparko.’

  ‘What do you want us to do? Chuck her out?’

  Ryan looked horrified. ‘You’re joking, aren’t you? After the amount of legwork I’ve put in? Get her down the corridor and into my room.’

  Two of them laughed and made encouraging noises, while the other looked edgy: a door had been opened that he didn’t like. I knew the feeling.

  I toyed with the idea of bursting in, and turned back to the kitchen, looking for something hefty or sharp I could wield. But there was nothing – no rolling pins or sharp knives, just a pizza slicer blunted through overuse. There was no way I could do anything to help her. Even if one of them had got cold feet, it would still be me against three of them. I had no chance, even if I ran in there and puked all over them.

  Instead I stood, chewing the inside of my lip as they hoisted her to her feet. The decent one tried to butt in again, telling them he didn’t like it, but Ryan fronted up to him, eyes flaring, lighting up the room.

  ‘Look, you prick. If you don’t like it, just leave, will you?’

  ‘But look at her, Ry. She’s had enough. She’s hammered.’

  ‘And?’ he spat. ‘She was half-cut when she chose to come here and she’s hardly daft, is she? You don’t go back to a lad’s house unless you’re up for it, do you?’

  ‘But she’s asleep, mate.’

  Ryan let out a short laugh and patted the lad’s cheeks with both hands. ‘Don’t worry, old son. She won’t be for long. Believe me.’ He turned to the other two. ‘Come on, fellas. You know where to go.’ And he followed them as they lumped Naomi through another door that presumably led to his room.

  I freaked out. I didn’t know what to do. I didn’t want to leave, knowing that if I did she was in big trouble, but at the same time what could I do?

  I swore repeatedly in my head until it came to me: my phone. I yanked it out of my pocket, fumbled with the keylock and hammered 999.

  ‘Come on, come on,’ I mouthed, waiting for a connection.

  I needed a pee, needed to sleep, needed to hear someone was on the way. But none of these things were possible. I had no signal, not even enough to get an emergency call away.

  I peered back into the lounge, hoping to spot a landline, but saw only the scared lad on the sofa, his head in his hands. Even if he had morals, was he really going to let me phone the police when he was sat there letting Ryan do God knows what to Naomi? I couldn’t take the risk.

  I had to get past him to the door. If I could get down the stairs and out, then I could phone the cops, flag down a car, do anything to keep Naomi safe.

  I slipped off my shoes. They might not have been heels or anything, but they could have made a noise that I just couldn’t risk. I picked my way across the wooden floorboards, pausing in terror each time he moved or threatened to stand. He obviously didn’t know what to do for the best and so, fortunately for me, stayed where he was, allowing me to creep through the door and on to the stairs.

  I increased my pace, not caring if I made more noise now. I was only a dozen steps from the outside world. I tripped on the last few stairs, my elbows slamming against the front door, making a noise loud enough to wake the dead. I hoped it was loud enough to raise Naomi. Hoped it gave her the chance to fight Ryan off. If anyone could do it, it was her. She normally had enough anger to fight off a dozen lads and if the booze hadn’t washed it all away, then she still had a chance.

  I fumbled with the latch, threw the door open and hared up the path, not bothering to shut it behind me. It would save the police a job when they arrived.

  Hidden behind a car at the end of the street I paused for breath and stared again at my phone.

  ‘SHIT.’ Still no signal.

  I scanned the street frantically, finally spotting a phone box on the main road.

  I chanced a glance back towards the house, sucked in a final deep breath and ran as fast as I could towards the phone box.

  I had to make the call and I had to make it quick.

  Chapter 35

  As much as I wanted to make sure the police turned up, the coward in me made me do the swiftest runner imaginable.

  The call had only taken a minute, long enough to tell them about a teenage girl in trouble with four lads. I didn’t have to mention the word rape for them to understand what I saying, that they had to put their foot down and arrive sharpish. It was only when they asked for my name that I knew it was time to go, and as soon as I slammed the receiver down, the guilt started to pick away at my brain.

  Why hadn’t I told them my name? What did I have to be ashamed of?

  Apart from leaving a drunken friend at the mercy of a group of tanked-up lads.

  From there my mind went mad, twisting the whole night until everything that had gone on was my fault. If I’d said no to Naomi in the first place we’d already be home and safe. If I’d begged her to leave the seafront straight after the pub, then I wouldn’t be trudging back on my own, wishing I’d stuck around and searched harder for something to take Ryan on with. How could I have just left her like that?

  My senses played tricks on me, hearing sirens when I was on the quietest roads. Even when I finally flagged down a night bus I was still seeing the lights of police cars glinting off the windows.

  When I walked through the gates of Bellfield I actually saw a squad car, but this one had no flashing lights; it sat empty in the car park. The only life I could see was from the balcony as always, a mixture of lamplight, cigarette smoke and weary, anxious faces.

  It was Ade who broke away from the rest, climbing over the balcony and rushing to me in large strides. It was the fastest I’d ever seen her move since that first night. She folded me into her, threatening to push my stomach over the edge again, her voice a mixture of anger and relief.

  ‘Where on earth have you been?’ she cried.

  ‘With Naomi.’

  ‘We guessed that. But the police called to say they picked Naomi up half an hour ago. They didn’t know anything about another girl. We thought something awful had happened.’

  I didn’t care about me, only that I hadn’t struck again.

  ‘Where is she? Is she here?’

  ‘She’s at the hospital with Bex, getting checked over.’

  ‘But she’s OK, isn’t she?’

  ‘You know Naomi, she is indestructible. But if the pol
ice hadn’t arrived when they did it could’ve been very different.’

  I said nothing.

  ‘We were lucky someone called them. If they hadn’t … well, I do not want to think about it.’ She held me by both shoulders. ‘You don’t know who made that call, do you?’

  I shrugged her away and shook my head firmly. I wanted no praise for any of this. I should never have left her in the first place.

  Plodding slowly to the balcony, I looked for a friendly face, but I could see only Eric – fear, anger and exhaustion scratched deep into his features.

  I wanted to apologize, but couldn’t say the words with enough feeling to put right what I’d done. Instead I lowered my head and looked at Patrick, who sucked hard on his cigarette and turned away. Even Jimmy and Susie found it hard to look my way, although Susie couldn’t resist squeezing my arm briefly. Both of them were saying the same thing.

  How could you leave her like you did? We stick together. Always.

  They were only thinking what I already knew. I’d broken the rules.

  Without a word, I pushed through the doors and climbed the stairs to my room. Every step was a mountain.

  Sleep eluded me despite my best efforts. The onset of a raging hangover didn’t help and neither did the fear slowly casting its cloak over me. In my desperation I found the remnants of a bottle of spirits hidden at the back of my wardrobe, gunning it as fast as I could, hoping it would just push unconsciousness that bit nearer.

  It didn’t work, and instead I paced the floor, listening to doors slam around the house. With every bang I listened for Naomi, knowing that I’d hear her, her trademark wail taking issue with someone or something, regardless of how much trouble she was in. She didn’t return, but the panic attacks did, ripping through me with a force that I hadn’t felt while protected by the medication. Maybe the alcohol had lessened its effect, or perhaps I was just getting what I deserved. Either way it was impossible to fend off, and by the time the first rays of sun forced their way through the curtains, I was sprawled on my bed, my duvet clutched to my arm, the nail scissors I’d taped to the underside of my pants drawer lying used beside me.