by Kit Eyre
‘Wait – wait,’ he insisted, grasping my arm.
‘What?’ I demanded. ‘She’s out there, I need to –’
‘There might be another bomb,’ he cut in.
I shook him off and slumped against the desk. It creaked, giving way, and only Matt snatching at my shoulder stopped me going with it. As the crash reverberated around the landing, the outline of a body appeared hunched up against the wall. It was Michael, unconscious, looking like he’d been dipped in ketchup. Beyond him, Caroline was wrapped around the banister, groping into thin air.
‘We need help,’ Matt muttered.
‘There’s no other bomb,’ I told him as I tested my balance. I swayed, but stayed upright. ‘That’s why he wanted – wanted to let them out. So he could . . . Matt, I need to find Jude. Please – please.’
He scraped glass shavings out of his hair then finally nodded. ‘Go down the fire escape from Michael’s window, make sure the others are out. I’ll try and get these two moving. Someone’ll be coming. We’ll have half of West Yorkshire police here in ten minutes, you watch.’
‘Thanks, Matt,’ I said, inching over clumps of charred carpet until I reached the door.
‘You be careful,’ he called as I forced it open. ‘Help’s coming.’
Chapter 29
July 2011
‘You’re not following him to some random address in Lincoln. That’s it – no debate over it, Danni, okay? We’re not going.’
I growled and twisted away across the car park. Ten minutes of being calm had got me nowhere. Gemma was repeating herself and Harriet was silently chain-smoking by the car, chugging out enough toxins to bring the fire brigade running if we stuck around much longer. At least Jude had the good sense to keep away from my line of sight, though I saw her hair fluttering in the breeze out of the corner of my eye. I turned back to face Gemma again.
‘I need to do this. You weren’t there, you don’t understand.’
She clenched her jaw. ‘You don’t talk. You won’t tell me about it. You’ve never talked about anything going on in your head, I’ve always had to guess, haven’t I? Tell me, come on. Why do you need to find him before the police do?’
I opened my mouth then the words died on my tongue. The undertone hit me at the same time it hit Harriet and Jude. Both of them shifted forward, Harriet throwing her cigarette away and resting a hand on Gemma’s shoulder.
‘Calm down,’ she said.
‘I didn’t . . .’ Gemma cupped her palms around her head and edged towards me. ‘I’ve never thought it, Dan, not once. I just want to understand, that’s all.’
My eyes drifted to Jude, upright and lips pinched. Then I skimmed over Harriet’s face and looked back to Gemma.
‘So do I,’ I murmured, clasping my stick until my fingers ached. ‘It’s not enough, what Lenora told us. So it was about his mum – so what? Why target us?’
She exhaled. ‘You know why. He was after Knight, wasn’t he?’
‘Exactly, but he didn’t wait for him. Why not? It doesn’t make sense. And it’s how he did it. He made me choose the people I wanted to be safe, the ones who deserved it. He did that deliberately, just so I’d stand there and . . . Parents, Gem. That’s who I picked. People with families who –’
‘Okay, I know it hurts –’
‘You don’t, though.’
‘Then tell me,’ she demanded. ‘Talk to me.’
I ground my stick against the pebbles until they skittered across the car park. One struck Gemma’s foot, bouncing into the air then falling with a crack. She flinched and lowered her chin.
‘Will you take me to Lincoln?’ I questioned.
‘No,’ she muttered, rubbing her wrist against her forehead.
I looked past her. ‘Harriet?’
She shook her head. ‘I promised your dad I wouldn’t, remember?’
‘Yeah, and what about what you promised me? Justice, finding the truth. You remember that?’
‘We’ll get justice if we give them Radison’s name.’
‘But not the truth – not the proper truth. Unless you’re like Gemma and you suddenly think I was in on it.’
She snorted, reaching into her pocket and fumbling for another cigarette. It took her three attempts to light it, her hand quivering the whole time. Once again, my eyes meandered back to Jude and I saw her chewing on her lip. Harriet, when I looked again, was expelling a cloud of smoke from her lungs into the hazy atmosphere.
‘Your dad came to the funerals with me – did he ever tell you?’
‘No,’ I admitted.
‘We got close, me and him. He’s a lovely bloke, more use than my old man ever was. He asked me to look out for you because he trusted me to do it. I’ve already let both of you down once, I’m not doing it again.
I frowned. ‘What do you mean by that?’
‘Whatever Radison wanted, it should’ve been me on that phone. Maybe he wouldn’t have been able to play his games, maybe we’d have had the power over him.’
‘You can’t rewrite the past,’ I said quietly.
‘No,’ she agreed with another drag of her cigarette, ‘but I’m damned if I’m doing it again. We take it to the police. End of.’
I stared at her for a long moment. We’d all changed in the last eighteen months, even Gemma who’d shaken off her nonchalant selfishness and become a slave to my moods. Harriet’s indestructible attitude was at odds with her withered face and the patches of thinning hair we all pretended not to notice. There was something burning in her eyes, though; and, finally, I understood. Gemma never had a truth to find and Harriet had already found hers. Knowing what Radison was after settled her mind, and the police could do the rest. I didn’t have that luxury.
I swallowed and shuffled my foot through some more pebbles. ‘Jude?’
‘Yeah?’ she asked in an impassive tone.
‘Will you take me to Lincoln?’
She waited until I glanced to her then threw me a smile I’d last seen as she slipped off the meeting room desk and ran her tongue over her fingertips. The force of the memory made me shudder on the spot, and her intimate expression grew.
‘Sure,’ she said. ‘Of course I will.’
Chapter 30
February 2010
I barrelled through Michael’s office door to find four frightened faces cowering in the flickering light. Sunita’s face was slick with tears as Ed cradled her, while Vicky and Bobby sat coiled in the hollow of the desk. All of them clambered to their feet.
‘It went off, didn’t it?’ Vicky questioned.
‘Outside, out front,’ I answered. ‘We’ve got to get down the fire escape. Bobby – get the window open.’
He hesitated. ‘Where are the others?’
‘Matt’s helping Caroline and Michael, they’ve been knocked out. You need to get the bloody window open. Move – I’ll do it.’
I shoved him aside to pick up the emergency hammer. Somewhere in the building, alarms were still bawling, but maybe my ears were tuning them out. They came through as the odd jangle, like a police car zooming along the streets and doubling back on itself.
My hand shook, spraying shards of glass and plaster onto the carpet. I steeled myself and slammed the hammer into the window pane. It shrieked before it crumbled away. I pivoted back to the others hovering in a clump.
‘Come on, let’s go.’
Ed exchanged a glance with Bobby then asked, ‘What if there’s another bomb? Maybe we should stay put.’
‘There isn’t,’ I snapped.
‘How do you know?’ queried Vicky.
‘There never was – it was outside. Stop messing about, come on.’
They looked at each other in the same way Caroline and Michael had just before the bomb went off. Whereas I might’ve cared yesterday, right now it bounced off me like a rubber ball. I twisted around to the fire escape and scrambled out onto the platform. It groaned but held steady, and I felt my way down the steps using the handrail and the residual stree
t light over this side of the building.
I wavered when my feet hit the ground. Around here, everything was normal apart from the fact I was at work in the early hours of the morning and my ears were ringing. As soon as I moved, nothing would be normal, probably ever again. That locked my legs for maybe a minute then a pungent odour filtered into my nostrils and I staggered against the metal railings. It was the same stench I remembered from when my dad had fallen onto the barbeque one summer – trying to cook himself, my mum had called it.
I propelled myself forward step by step, using the brick wall as a crutch, until I rounded the corner and plunged straight into hell on earth. It was something you saw on the news in the Middle East, not on a derelict estate in Leeds in the middle of the night.
Rubble was scattered everywhere, bricks and scraps of metal smouldering in heaps and pumping smoke into the air. Shells of the cars nearest the entrance were still blazing, although one – George’s – only had a small fire licking at the upholstery. They illuminated the cracked paving slabs and the no-smoking sign speared through a trunk of something I couldn’t immediately identify.
Then I spun away and vomited onto my shoes, the image of Gill’s severed throat burning in my mind. I pressed my fist into my mouth and carried on stumbling through the debris.
A few yards away, I tripped over a leg protruding from under a heap of rubble. I scrabbled at it, blood congealing around my fingertips as Harriet’s face emerged from the grime. I scraped my way down to her neck, checking for a pulse, until it throbbed against my fingers and I exhaled.
‘Harriet, it’s okay. We’ll get you out of here, okay?’
She couldn’t hear me, she was unconscious, but I kept talking for my own benefit. The more I scratched out words, the less chance my gaze had to wander around the shattered car park searching for Jude. I rambled on about Conrad and Jude and Matt then broke off when flashing blue lights lit up the sky beyond the flaming cars.
‘They’re coming, it’s all right. Hang on.’
I levered myself to my feet and craned my neck. The fire in George’s car was still glowing, even as the others were fizzling out. An ambulance and three police cars were parked at a distance and I spotted a figure sprinting towards them, arms outstretched.
‘Thank you, Matt,’ I murmured.
Some row seemed to be going on. I squinted through the smoke, watching Matt remonstrating, then he turned and stomped into the rubble. He finally caught sight of me waving and tripped over wreckage to get to us. When he saw Harriet, he swallowed hard.
‘They won’t come in,’ he explained. ‘Not till they’ve given the all-clear with it being a bomb. Have you found Jude yet?’
I shook my head.
He hoisted me away, gesturing back towards the building and the brick dust streaming down from the roof. ‘Try over there, go on. I’ll see if I can get Harriet moved myself. She needs help, she’s not safe here.’
‘There’s not another bomb.’
‘Better safe than sorry. Go – now.’
I lurched over one pile of bricks then another, scanning left and right for a flash of blonde hair. The more I looked, the more my chest tightened until every breath wheezed in my throat and I crumpled to my knees.
Then I saw her a few feet away, nestled under a slice of metal buried in the wall. I crawled over stones and glass to settle beside her and pressed my trembling fingers to her neck.
‘Jude . . .’ I blew out my breath. ‘It’s all right, it’ll be all right. Hold on.’
I lifted my hand to sweep the clotted hairs from her cheeks just as a crack echoed around the car park. Instinct drove me forward to shield Jude’s body with mine then everything went black.
Chapter 31
July 2011
‘Why are you doing this?’ Gemma questioned.
I threw a look at Jude ordering us a taxi beyond the car park, unsuccessfully trying not to stare at the pair of us. Harriet had shifted to the low wall and was smoking another cigarette whilst rubbing pebbles between her fingers. She didn’t seem surprised by what I was doing, more like she’d expected it from the off. Gemma, on the other hand, was bouncing around between lumps of dog shit like a circling boxer.
‘Tell me,’ she persisted.
‘I’ve said why. I need to see him.’
Gemma sniggered. ‘Well, he won’t be there, will he?’
‘I don’t know. Maybe, maybe not.’ I massaged my neck and lowered my voice. ‘Look, Gem –’
‘You’re choosing her, aren’t you?’ she cut in, eyes blazing. ‘After everything she’s done? I mean, I was the one who camped at your bedside. I took you home from the hospital, I found you when you . . . What have I done wrong? Come on, tell me.’
My usual route was to clam up, let her boil herself dry. It’d worked in the past when we lived together, more times than I could count, but the pain etched all over her face was palpable. It was time I was honest – time we both were.
‘This isn’t you,’ I said with a weak smile. ‘You know, when we were eighteen, you were rushing around with your head in the clouds, all about having fun. You were happy, you loved your job. You liked screwing around –’
‘That’s not –’
I held up a hand. ‘I’m not saying it to be cruel, I’m just being honest.’
‘Go on, then,’ she muttered through clenched teeth.
‘I don’t think you’re cut out for practical or normal or monogamous. You don’t want it. It’s like the only reason you want me is because you think you should.’
She snorted, although her eyebrows had lowered and she’d stopped jittering around. ‘Now you’re trying to excuse yourself. It’s all right you talking about monogamy – she cheated on her husband! How does that fit in, Dan?’
‘I don’t know,’ I admitted, scraping my stick along the ground. ‘Anyway, I’m not saying I’m going to . . . I just want to get to Radison and find out why. Say we do get him arrested – what then? He stands up in court and talks about Gerbera’s faults and what happened with his mum. Fine, that’s his defence for that. But telling Michael about my affair with Jude? I won’t find out why he did that in court, will I?’
‘He might –’
‘No, Gerbera’ll be the story, not me. Don’t you think I deserve to know why?’
‘Yes, but –’
‘I’m going,’ I cut in.
For a moment, she stood stationary. I could see the cogs working. Nearly every time we’d rowed over the last year, she’d given in and let me come out on top. That wasn’t Gemma, not the real one who picked a side, stuck to it and played dirty till she won. Until she burst forward towards the car, launching beer cans away with her shoes, I hadn’t realised how much I’d missed it.
‘Fine,’ she yelled as she wrenched open the boot and grabbed my rucksack. She dumped it on the ground then kicked it through the fetid litter before doing the same with Jude’s. Once she’d slammed the boot shut, she twisted back to me. ‘I’m done. Do what the hell you want.’
Jude was watching all this from a safe distance, a bemused expression on her face, while Harriet was stubbing out her cigarette on the stained wall. She rose, ready to interfere, but I held up a hand.
‘What are you smiling at?’ Gemma demanded.
‘Nothing,’ I returned.
‘No, come on.’ She stomped back to me. ‘Tell me.’
I leaned over and kissed her cheek. ‘Nothing.’
Chapter 32
February 2010
Dust, ash, glass – whatever it was, my mouth was thick with it.
Since the blast, I hadn’t been able to see anything. We could’ve been buried under a mountain of brick and the only thing I knew for sure was that Jude’s breath was still warm against my throat. I wasn’t sure I was injured exactly; everything felt numb but nothing hurt. Somehow, we were cocooned in the cavity underneath the sheet of metal that had wedged into the wall. Sense told me we should be dead; maybe we were.
I lost track of tim
e. The one thing I focused on was Jude’s laboured breathing, every puff of air seeming weaker than the last. I kept my eyes glued closed and listened to the creaking of stone around my ears.
Finally, a sharp light bit into my eyes. I blinked and shielded my face.
‘Danielle? Judith? Is that you?’
My first attempt at speech came out in a whisper. The second time, I managed, ‘Here.’
‘Both of you?’ It was a man; local, young.
‘You have to get Jude first.’
‘Let us work that out, love, okay? We’re moving these bricks so just stay as still as you can. My name’s Tony, I’m a fireman. Can you tell me if you’re injured at all?’
I choked down a mouthful of grime. ‘Jude –’
‘Tell me about you first,’ he interrupted. ‘Can you move?’
‘Yes,’ I lied.
‘Good, that’s good. What about pain?’
‘No. Jude needs help. She’s pregnant.’
He paused and muttered something to someone behind him. All of a sudden, the stones around us rattled and a searing pain gnawed into my left thigh. I swallowed my wail and twisted my body away from Jude’s as best I could.
‘Get her out before me,’ I croaked.
The torchlight dipped in and out of our hollow while they scratched away at the stones. Every piece of rubble they moved intensified the pain in my leg, but I clung onto Jude’s hand until two gloved hands appeared.
‘We’ll have to pull her out,’ Tony explained. ‘If we wait for heavy machinery it’ll be too late. We’ve got her husband’s permission to take the risk with her. You sit tight and we’ll be back, I promise.’
Tears scalded my cheeks. ‘Okay.’
I disentangled my hand from Jude’s, making believe she resisted before her arm slumped onto the cushion of bricks. Inch by inch, I watched Tony ease her through the gap. Every second brought with it another twist of the rubble around my leg and I whimpered. Once Jude was out, I’d tell them how much it hurt and ask for help.