Chapter Ten

Lilith

‘Don’t leave me, Clarissa!  They’re coming, I can feel it!  Stay with me, please…’

My mother’s contorted face leered inches away from me and I could smell the acid, pear-drop reek of her starving breath.  Emaciated hands clawed at the collar of my school blouse as I backed down the musty, barricaded passage of our council flat.

A frantic hammering came from next door.  ‘Make that mad frog bitch shut the fuck up, or I’ll come round there and do it for you!’

I opened my mouth to reply, but no matter how hard I tried, no sound came out.  My mother threw herself to the floor and grabbed at my legs as our neighbour began to dismantle the dividing wall brick by brick.

‘Clarissa, what do you think you’re doing?’  The headmistress from my boarding school, wearing the same outfit that Blaine had worn on the night she had horsewhipped Finn, sat at our filthy kitchen table and drank tea from a chipped mug that heaved with maggots.  ‘You do realise that your Latin exam’s just about to start?’

With no voice, I couldn’t explain that my mother’s latest episode was making things a little difficult, and when I glanced down she had transformed into a shrunken corpse whose skeletal fingers remained locked around my ankles.

I awoke struggling for air in the pure silence of the night.

*****

I expected the kitchen to be deserted.  Six weeks into my stay I had grown used to the routine of Albermarle Hall and I knew that even Henry wouldn’t be at work at three in the morning.  Already jittery from a combination of nightmare and salbutamol, I gave a soft cry of shock as a shadowed figure moved silently across the pools of moonlight and challenged my firm non-belief in ghosts.

‘Hi.’

‘Fucking hell, Finn, you nearly gave me a heart attack.’  I slumped into the nearest seat, shaking more than ever. 

‘Sorry,’ Finn shrugged.  ‘Wasn’t expecting company.’  He kneeled down to open the refrigerator door and his delicate, angelic face was suddenly bathed in the novelty of electric light.  Even at this ridiculous hour, and clad in a faded blue t-shirt and ancient pyjama pants, he looked like something Michelangelo might reject for being too beautiful. 

‘I didn’t think you ate.’

‘I don’t.’ Finn started rifling through the freezer compartment.  ‘I’m after ice cubes.’  He found what he was looking for, sat down at the table without meeting my gaze and pressed a cube to the back of his hand. He gave a soft exhalation of breath that sounded strangely like relief.

Without waiting for the question he explained, ‘Coping strategy.  Apparently if you hold ice to the parts of your arm where you’d normally stub out your fag, it sends a similar message to your brain without making you smell like a barbecue.’  As I watched the silvered droplets fall and soak into the table top I finally understood the long-faded scars and pitted skin that covered his hands.

‘Does it work?’

‘Nah.  Not really.  I just don’t want to waste a smoke.’ He finally looked up, now that I had passed this latest test by not running a mile.  ‘So, now you know how I spend my nights off, what are you doing here?’

‘Nightmares.’

‘What, like real, normal people get?’ Finn asked, amused.  ‘Jesus, you’ll be telling me you fart next.’

‘Don’t be ridiculous.  And even if I did, they’d smell of roses.’ I rubbed at eyes that felt as though they were full of grit.  ‘Look, I know it sounds pathetic but I don’t do nightmares, Finn.  I’ve spent years sorting out my demons during the day specifically so I don’t have to deal with this kind of shit at night.’

‘Ah, but Albermarle Hall has that effect on its staff.’  Finn lit a cigarette and blew pale smoke into the gloom.  ‘Relaxes its guests and fucks its workers.’

I was perversely proud at being counted as part of the latter group.  ‘So it would seem.  Anyway, how come you’re awake? I thought you self-medicated yourself comatose.’

Finn gave a thin smile.  ‘Lilith, I take eight temazzies a night just to stop me crawling the walls, and half-a-dozen most mornings.  It’s what keeps me the nearest approximation to normal I’m ever going to get, and I need to get my hands on at least fifteen in one throw if I really need to mong out and sleep through.  If I’m not working, like tonight, there’s not a cat in hell’s chance of that.’ 

‘Shit.’ The only response I could manage.

‘Shit indeed.’  The kettle began its shrill whistle, and he stood.  ‘Tea?’ 

I watched as he poured a quarter of a pint of milk into his own drink and added six sugars.  ‘What the hell is that?’

‘Junkie’s tea.  Keeps you going when you can’t be arsed to eat.’  He dredged a layer of sugar syrup from the bottom of the mug and licked the residue from his spoon.  ‘Old habits and all that.’

‘I guess you didn’t inject.’

Finn shook his head.  ‘Nah.  Only real benefit of my big girl’s phobia.  I just chased more dragons than Saint George.  Well, that and smoked the occasional rock if I fancied splashing out.  Good job I suit the ‘crack whore’ look.’  He sucked in his cheeks.  ‘Like that.’

I laughed, and his whole face broke into a boy’s wide grin at my reaction.

‘Y’know, that’s what’s so fucking crazy.  When I met Blaine I was just starting to clean up my act.  I’d found this project, run by a couple of decent fellas – ex-trade –  who didn’t try to counsel the very arse off you.  Then Her Ladyship turned up and made me an offer that sounded like heaven, and… well, you can guess the rest, huh?’  He’d had enough of talking about himself, because he suddenly asked, ‘So, what do you usually do when you can’t sleep?’

‘Usually I can sleep.  That’s the bloody problem.’  I gave him a sideways glance.  ‘Other than that, I find masturbation to be effective.  Why, what about you?’

‘A good Catholic boy like myself?  You must be joking.  Anyway, it kind of changes things when your equipment’s used for business instead of pleasure.’  The grin returned.  ‘Fuckin’ hell, it’s three in the morning and I’m sitting in a kitchen having a conversation about jackin’ off with the Future of British Art.’  He took a drink of his disgusting concoction.  ‘Lilith Bresson.  Ice Princess.  Wanks and farts.  Possibly at the same time.’

I narrowed my eyes.  ‘You think you’ve got it bad?  It’s three in the morning and I’m having a conversation about jacking off with some cheeky Irish pikey bastard.  And I’m bloody freezing.’  It was then that I came up with the most stupid suggestion in the world.  ‘I don’t suppose you’d be willing to walk me back to my room?’ I asked, and watched the barriers rise faster than I could count. 

‘Why?’

I gave a sigh of frustration.  ‘Oh, for heaven’s sake Finn, I’m not that crass.  It’s just that I’m bloody freezing here, and it might be wishful thinking but it’s the only place in this shithole where I even begin to feel like I’m on my own territory.’

‘That’s not an answer.’

I held my hands up. ‘All right.  If you want me to be excruciatingly honest, I don’t fancy being by myself in some bloody madhouse that doesn’t even let me flick on the TV when I can’t stand the sound of my own breathing.  So right now I need some intelligent conversation and civilised company until I’m too knackered to keep my eyes open, and seeing as I’m not going to get that, you’ll have to do.  Will that suffice?’

‘Maybe.’

I was still cursing myself for being so forward when he asked, ‘What about Bran?’  He gestured at his dog, who dozed contentedly on a towel laid out on the warm flagstones by the stove.

‘I haven’t let a dog in my bedroom since one of my father’s Labradors cocked its leg on my doll’s house.’

‘I promise she won’t piss in your room,’ Finn assured me.  ‘Can’t guarantee that I won’t, mind you.’

I smiled with relief, already pushing my chair back under the table.  ‘Come on then, before I feel like an even bigger idiot than I do already.’

*****

When we reached my door, I stopped.  ‘Look, you really don’t have to do this.’ I was already beginning to feel foolish at my display of weakness.

‘I know I don’t.  That’s why I am.’

‘You won’t get any hassle, will you?’

‘Nah, I don’t think so.  I’ll just stay the ten minutes though, until you’re settled again.  That way, no-one’s going to be getting the wrong idea even if we are seen.’

‘God, I feel so bloody stupid.’ I unlocked my door.  ‘I think I’ve got an allergy to silence.’

‘No shame in admitting this place has got you rattled.  I’m impressed it’s taken this long, to be honest with you.’

I had never known Finn to be so friendly, as open as this. I wondered if it was the relative freedom the darkness of the early hours gave him, or simply a recent dose of temazepam talking.  Either way, I was grateful for this particular incarnation.  ‘Grab a seat.’

‘Fuck me!’ Finn exclaimed.  ‘Does anyone actually live here?’

‘Me, last time I checked.’  I sat on my bed and worked my feet back under a duvet that was still warm from my body heat. ‘What can I say?  I like tidy.’

Finn took the armchair by the window: facing the door, furthest from the bed.  ‘You sure you weren’t in the army?’

‘Positive.  But any amateur psychologist would tell you it’s your average control freak’s response to a chaotic life.  Creating order wherever I can.’

‘This place must really be doing your head in, huh?’

Bran jumped up onto the bed with me and I absently stroked the soft velvet of her ears.  ‘To be honest, it’s managed to provide everything I’ve spent my adult life escaping, in one handy package.’

Finn reached out and swept the flat of his hand across the surface of my dresser as if he couldn’t quite believe the absence of dust.  ‘I don’t know anyone who’s paid so much not to fuck me,’ he said quietly.

I was wondering how to reply, when he laughed.  ‘God, I’ve just figured out what’s missing – you ditched the hallowed Albermarle Teddy Bear!’

I nodded.  ‘Banished to a dark cupboard for all eternity.’

‘You cold-hearted bastard.’

‘Give me a hot water bottle any day.  At least they have some appreciable function.  Not like that pathetic pile of overpriced fake fur and anthropomorphic bullshit I locked in the wardrobe.’

‘You have serious teddy bear issues.’

‘Too damn right.  My mother ditched my last one when I was thirteen.  Doused him in lighter fuel and incinerated him in the bathroom. Apparently he was a covert listening device for the CIA.’

‘Yeah, well, you can’t be too careful.  They can be dodgy little fuckers.  Anyway, at least you had a proper bear…’

Now it was my turn to grin.  ‘Let me guess.  You had to fashion one from twigs and those little bundles of fluff you find in the gutter.’

‘Close.  Actually, I knitted one using the discarded pubes that my mother’s endless procession of shags left in her bed.’  He gave a deep sigh.  ‘He was pretty cute, actually.  Apart from the smell.’ 

‘Sick fuck,’ I giggled, and burrowed a little further into bed.  Bran gave a soft grunt at the disturbance.

‘Better now?’

‘Much.’

‘Good.’ Finn settled back into the armchair and brought his knees to his chest.  Even in the dim light I could see the goosebumps that covered his bare arms.  I immediately felt guilty.

“Shit.  You must be absolutely freezing.’

Finn shrugged.  ‘I’m used to it.’

‘That’s not the point.’ I reached under the bed and offered him one of the soft white blankets that were stored there.  ‘Here, take this.  I don’t want you getting hypothermia on my account.’

Finn hesitated as if even this simple transaction might tip the delicate balance that kept him in my room.  Eventually he held out his arms.  ‘Cheers.’

I threw the blanket across to him.  He wrapped himself in it so that just his eyes and tousled hair were visible.  Content that he was as comfortable as he could be, I felt the first pull of sleep and reached out to turn down the oil lamp.  That’s when I heard the panicked little gasp catch in his throat.