by Anne Billson
I decided I was ready to face him now.
Chapter 6
There seemed to be rather a lot of noise coming from the direction of Ladbroke Grove, so after I'd rung Duncan's doorbell, I had to press my ear right up against the entryphone. At first, there was nothing to hear. Then, at long last, an electronic crackle, followed by Duncan's voice. 'Hello?'
'It's me.'
I waited and waited, but nothing happened, so I pressed the buzzer again. 'Well, aren't you going to ask me in?'
There was a mild spluttering from the entryphone. 'I wasn't expecting you. You said you'd ring.'
'I didn't get a chance. Things have been rather hectic.'
Again, silence. I tapped my foot edgily on the doorstep, casting glances back along the street. There was no one behind me, but I could still hear shouting, and it seemed to be getting closer. After a while, I pressed the buzzer again, long and hard, several times.
'Look,' I said, 'I don't feel safe out here.'
'OK, you can come up for a quick drink.' He sounded pissed off. 'But you can't stay.'
Nothing like a warm welcome, I thought. He buzzed the door open and I started up the stairs. 'Why can't I stay?' I asked as he let me into the flat.
'Because I'm busy, Dora,' he said. 'I told you yesterday, I have work to do.'
I took a good look around. The blinds were drawn and the room lit only by the flickering light from the television. As far as I could make out, he'd been doing two things before I arrived - drinking, and watching TV. 'Ah yes,' I observed. 'I can see you've been working really hard. Just like on Saturday.'
'I was watching the news,' he said, turning off the TV and switching on the table-lamp. 'There's some sort of riot in Tottenham.'
'So what's new,' I said.
His expression didn't change. I was about to say I thought there was something going on in Ladbroke Grove, when he added, 'There's a riot in Dulwich as well.'
'Dulwich?'
He opened the whisky. 'Don't ask me what's going on. Like I said, one drink and out you go.'
I planted myself on the sofa. 'Who are you expecting?'
'No one.'
'Then come with me to Paris.'
He laughed awkwardly. 'You've got Paris on the brain. I don't suppose it occurred to you there might be things I have to take care of here.'
I stuck my chin out. 'So what are you waiting for? Throw another glass at me.'
He looked remorseful. 'Sorry about that. I guess I was still upset. About Lu and everything.'
'You and your temper, always taking it out on us girls. Promise you won't lose it again.'
'Cross my heart,' he said, handing me a measure of whisky which barely covered the bottom of the glass.
I swirled it around, but it still looked inadequate. 'Not even if I say something I shouldn't,' I said.
'Something you shouldn't?' He frowned. 'Like what?'
I drained the whisky in two small gulps and held the glass out for a refill. He poured another shot without thinking, and I said, 'There are certain things I think you might have told me.'
His manner, all of a sudden, was icy. 'Oh yes?'
I took a deep breath. 'But come to Paris and I won't even ask, because then it won't matter. I've got the tickets, I've got the money, all you need is your passport. There's a car coming at eight.'
Duncan was staring at me with a tired look on his face. I wished he would sit down. He was making me uncomfortable.
'I never asked for much,' I said.
'Tell you what,' he said, brightening. 'I've got a better idea. Instead of Paris, why don't you go down with Jack and Alicia tomorrow, and I'll join you at the weekend.'
'Go down? What d'you mean? Go down where?'
'Dorset.'
The whisky glass slipped through my fingers and cracked into two neat halves on the carpet.
'Oh, well done,' said Duncan.
'Dorset? With Jack and Alicia?' I couldn't help giggling. 'That's a great idea, Duncan. I can't imagine why I didn't think of it. Dorset!' I couldn't stop giggling, even when I tried.
'What's so funny?'
'Nothing,' I said, taking deep hiccuping breaths. 'Nothing at all.' But there must have been something in my face, because he was looking at me warily. I said casually, 'I don't suppose you've seen Jack?'
He stooped to retrieve the two halves of glass. 'Yeah, I was over there earlier.'
I chose my words carefully. 'Then I suppose you saw Alicia? And the baby?'
'I said I went over, didn't I?'
'How were they?'
'Not so hot.' He walked over to deposit the broken glass in the waste-paper basket. 'There's some bug going round, and they've both gone down with it. Jack wants to take them down to the country as soon as possible. He reckons it's traffic fumes. Everyone's coming down with bronchitis.'
'Bronchitis?' I tried to act naturally, but ended up with the giggles again.
He was losing patience. 'What's the hell's wrong with you?'
I tried like mad to keep a straight face. 'I made a mistake. I thought Jack was one of them. Alicia, too.'
'Jack? Nah, he's way too smart. You know Jack.'
I didn't want to talk about Jack and Alicia any more. I grabbed at the first thing that came into my head. 'But Dorset? You've got to be kidding. What the fuck am I supposed to do in Dorset? You don't want to go to Dorset, do you? Not really. You've got better things to do than go there. You've got lots of work to do.'
He was playing with the remote control, even though the set was off. 'I hadn't made up my mind. I wanted to hear what you...'
'Duncan, can I ask you something?'
'Feel free, ask away.' He wasn't even looking in my direction.
'How long have you been lying to me?'
I wasn't sure that he'd heard. He sat down on the sofa, making sure there was a fair amount of space between us, and placed the remote control on the coffee-table. Then he folded his arms, and looked straight at me. 'I've never lied to you, Dora. What makes you think that?'
'Oh, maybe not technically, like in a court of law. But you've been deceiving me, haven't you? Violet's been coming here, hasn't she? For the last couple of days? Come on, let's have a look at your neck.'
I leant over and tried to pick at one corner of the sticking-plaster, but he pulled back, out of reach, laughing nervously, and said, 'Don't be stupid.'
'Come on, show me.'
'No, I...'
'Show me.'
He sighed and peeled back one edge of the plaster. Saturday night's blisters had burst once already, and they were ready to burst again. 'There,' he said. 'Satisfied?'
'Not quite.' Before he had time to retreat, I lunged at the dressing and ripped it all the way off. He slapped his hand over the exposed skin, but not before I'd glimpsed the other bite: two very small, very neat puncture wounds, just below the blisters.
'That was Lulu,' he said.
'That's not Lulu. That's fresh.' I was trying to be angry with him, but all of a sudden there was a lump in my throat. 'Ruth was right. You're one of them. Or you will be - because it's not over, is it? How many more sessions? Two? Or three? That's why you won't come to Paris. That's why you want me out of the way.'
'You don't know what you're talking about.' But he was unable to suppress a faintly supercilious smile.
It was all coming apart. There was no longer any point pretending it wasn't. 'Oh, but I do know. I wish I didn't.' I tried to keep my voice steady, but couldn't stop it quavering. 'She's giving you the works, isn't she? You're getting the VIP treatment. Not like all those one-bite wonders roaming the streets. You're right up there - right up at the top of the Chinese Whisper chain.'
'Dora, you're hysterical.'
'I'm not hysterical!' I screamed. 'I'm just fucking angry!' It all seemed so obvious now. 'How old are you now? That's what she was waiting for. She wanted you the same age as she used to be. The same age as your mother.'
'My mother's dead. Don't you dare bring her into t
his.'
'I didn't bring her in - she was already there!'
He made a last-ditch attempt at mollification, but his heart wasn't in it. 'Look,' he said. 'I'm sorry. I never meant any of this to happen.'
I laid into him. 'Like hell you didn't. You've been making a complete fool out of me, all this time, and there I was, thinking....'
He shrugged. 'I can't help it if you got the wrong end of the stick.'
'I got the short end of the stick,' I said, holding up my little finger. 'As usual.'
'Look, I was going to tell you, eventually. I just didn't want you finding out this way. I didn't want you getting hurt.'
I'd heard that one before. He was so full of shit, I couldn't understand why I hadn't smelled it. 'So tell me,' I sneered. 'What happened thirteen years ago? What was I supposed to be? Some sort of appetiser? Except you went and blew your top, just like you're always blowing it. Is that what happened? Things got a little rough, did they? Things got a little out of hand?'
'You don't know anything. She made me do it.'
'Don't talk crap!' I shouted. 'You set me up.'
He shook his head. 'She set me up. She said it wouldn't work, and I didn't believe her. But she was right. She wanted me to see for myself. Staking, decapitation, dismemberment - none of it worked. And nothing will work. Nothing will ever work again. Just like nothing will work with me.'
'Oh, so it's a fait accompli? You're one of them already?'
'I'm not even half-way there. This is not like a one-night stand, Dora, this is the real thing. We're going to be together for ever.'
I wanted nothing better than to wipe that smug look off his face. 'So what are you going to do now, Duncan? Bite me? Get a foretaste of things to come? Go on, admit it. I was on the menu all along, wasn't I?'
'Bite you?' A faint look of distaste crossed his face. 'Bite you? No, I would never do that. You must understand it was nothing personal, Dora. None of it had anything to do with you. You just happened to be there.'
I couldn't sit still. I found myself holding the gun, fiddling with the safety catch, turning it this way and that, though I couldn't actually remember taking it out of my bag.
'So all that other stuff didn't work,' I said. 'But there was one thing we didn't try. We didn't try this. It was something we didn't know about.'
He glanced at the gun and dismissed it instantly, shaking his head again. 'No way. You know that's useless.'
'But silver bullets.'
'Come on,' he said. 'Silver bullets are for werewolves.'
'Vampires too,' I said, and lifted the gun and held it against the side of his head and pulled the trigger. I was quite surprised when it went off. The bullet made a much bigger hole than I'd expected, just above his ear. Nothing else happened, not really, he didn't say anything and his expression didn't change, but he slumped forward in his seat, so that I his head rested on his knees. After a while, I heard something dripping on to the carpet.
'Fuck you, Duncan,' I said, annoyed I hadn't remembered to say it earlier.
I don't know how long I sat there. It was easiest when I wasn't thinking about anything in particular, so I let my eyes drift out of focus and concentrated on the regular rhythm of the dripping, noting how the sound of it changed as the carpet became more saturated. I counted the drips, slowly from one to ten, and then again. There was an uncomfortable feeling in the pit of my stomach, and it wasn't just period pain. It reminded me of the feeling you get when you go mad with your credit cards and spend a lot of money you haven't got. It was that sort of feeling, only worse.
After a while, I remembered I'd run out of cigarettes, so helped myself to one from Duncan's packet, and smoked it very slowly and deliberately. Half-way through, I noticed someone sitting in the armchair opposite. I hadn't heard her come in, but that wasn't so surprising because she always moved quietly. She was staring at Duncan without appearing to see him.
'He never even took my photo,' I said. It was that, more than anything, which made me want to cry.
A few minutes later, I asked. 'What are you going to do now?' The room was chilly, and when she looked at me, it became even chillier. There was nothing in those eyes, nothing at all. Not even a spark.
She said something in a language I didn't recognize, in a voice that seemed to come from a long way off. She watched without expression as I ground my cigarette into the ashtray, got to my feet and took two paces forward and, holding the gun steady with both hands, shot her in the chest, round about the place where her heart should have been.
She didn't flinch as the bullet went in. She didn't even look surprised. She sat perfectly still, and I thought perhaps she was dead after all, until she moved her head to look down at her left breast. I couldn't see the hole I'd made, because the room was too dark, and of course she was dressed in black, but she prodded with the fingers of her right hand, the white one, and then her finger and thumb worked their way inside and dug around for a bit. There was a small wet noise, and her finger and thumb re-emerged, no longer white but red. She held up the bullet and regarded it with something that wasn't interest, not exactly.
'It's silver,' I explained.
She stared at me for more than a minute. 'You stupid child,' she said at last. 'Silver bullets are for werewolves.'
'Yes I know that, but he said... he said...'
There was a hiss of escaping air, or it might have been a sigh. 'Who said?'
I suddenly felt very small. I said, 'Grauman.'
Something flitted across her face and was gone. 'Ah,' she said. 'I see.' Then she closed her eyes. The minutes ticked away. She sat there unmoving, her shape blending into the shadows. I watched, even though there was nothing to see, and eventually I asked if she was going to kill me.
'There's no point,' she said.
She said nothing more, and neither did she move, not even when the limo arrived to take me to the airport.
We swung into Ladbroke Grove. I could see something blocking the street, further down, by the tube station. A bonfire, with a small crowd milling around it. Then I realized the flames were coming from a burning car. People were poking at it with sticks.
I got the impression there was someone still inside.
'Jesus,' I said.
'Not to worry,' said the driver. 'We'll go down here.' He was a thin, pale youth whose grey uniform made him look more like an overgrown schoolboy than a chauffeur. He turned right into Blenheim Crescent, and immediately had to brake. There were people all over the street in front of us, running and shouting. He slowed down, but didn't stop, edging ahead with his hand jammed down on the horn. Nearly everyone got out of the way. Those that didn't appeared not to care, one way or the other.
The front of the delicatessen had been kicked in. I saw a bevy of well-dressed women helping themselves to croissants and pains au chocolat. 'Well, they seem to be having fun,' my driver observed cheerfully. There were other people having fun too: someone was standing in the doorway of the wine merchant's, handing out what looked like bottles of claret to passers-by. There was a fine wisp of smoke curling out from the wrecked window of the electronics store, and an orderly parade of men and women emerging with camcorders, fax machines, and cordless curling tongs. A little further on, an old lady hobbled out of the hardware shop, bent almost double beneath a huge sack of compost.
Ruth's gallery was intact. Perhaps this had something to do with the detachment of cool-looking dudes in berets and army surplus who were lolling about on the pavement outside, each clutching a can of lager in one hand and an automatic weapon in the other. Several of them were puffing away on spliffs the size of torpedoes. Then I spotted Ruth. She was standing in the doorway, talking intently to Dino, who didn't appear to be paying her any attention because he was shouting into a walkie-talkie.
'Stop here, just for a minute,' I said.
The driver pulled up at the kerb, but kept the engine running. 'Don't be too long,' he warned. 'Traffic's getting worse by the second.' I got out and immediately
found myself looking down the barrels of half a dozen machine-guns.
'Yo, mo, fo,' said one of the men in berets.
'Yo ho ho,' I said.
Ruth saw me and bounded forward. She was still wearing her samurai headband, but she'd swapped the flak jacket and drawstring trousers for strategically ripped olive-green overalls. 'Dora! Hi, glad you could make it. It's OK, guys, she's one of us.'
'The fuck she is,' I heard someone say as Ruth threaded her arm through mine and drew me to one side. 'Where've you been? I've been phoning you all day. Did you find out anything?'
'Oh yes, I found out lots. I found out about Rotnacht.'
'You did? And?'
'Rotnacht is scheduled to begin' - I looked at my watch, which appeared to be working properly again - 'in approximately three hours and forty minutes.'
Ruth put her hands on her hips and let out a long, deep sigh. 'Well, that's really helpful, Dora. Couldn't you have told us sooner?'
'Well, what did you think was going on here, exactly?' I raved my arm towards the toy-shop, where a crumpled Ford Fiesta was sitting amid a window arrangement of shattered glass and inflatable dinosaurs. Small, pre-school children were picking their way through the wreckage with their arms full of Barbie dolls and pastel-coloured furry animals.
'This? Oh, I thought this was run-of-the-mill civil disobedience,' said Ruth.
'Well, it's going to get worse,' I said. 'They're going to start killing people at midnight.'