Later we drink tea and watch a bit of telly, and fuss over Mia. No-one talks about death dates or nightmares or auras. Instead, Adam teases his nan gently and she tells him to ‘sod off’, but it’s all said with a smile and a twinkle in the eye. These two love each other. They might not know it, but there’s love in this tiny, messy, run-down house.
The news comes on and we all fall silent for a while. It’s the usual stuff: floods, famine, war. Japan’s in trouble – there are three volcanoes threatening to erupt at once. A mass evacuation is under way. In London there’s a big protest in Grosvenor Square against American threats of war against Iran. We all know Iran’s nuclear. How fucking stupid would the president have to be to pick on them? Didn’t she learn anything from Iraq, Afghanistan, North Korea? Right at the end they report on the earth tremor Adam felt in Oxford Street. It’s a light-hearted item, you know ‘And finally …’ with a bit of footage from someone’s mobile phone and some interviews with people who were there.
A crappy sitcom comes on after the news. We all sit looking at the screen, but none of us are watching.
‘I think it’s going to be an earthquake, Nan,’ Adam says. ‘Or it could be a bomb, a series of bombs.’
‘The Japanese get it, don’t they?’ she says. ‘They’re not messing about.’
‘Well, they have got volcanoes, they’d be mad not to evacuate, wouldn’t they?’
‘Yeah, but we’ve got you. We’ve got you telling us about it. People should listen. They should start getting out now.’
‘It’s not the same, is it? I was thinking about how to tell people, how to get publicity. Maybe a banner, climb up the Gherkin or Tower Bridge or something.’
‘Like my painting,’ I say. ‘No-one’ll pay any attention. They’ll just think you’re a nutter. You need to get on the street screens. How many are there? A thousand? More? They’re official, aren’t they? People will take notice of them. You need to hack in.’
‘Oh my God, you’re right. If the council or the government won’t do it, I’ll have to. I’ll have to hijack their screens.’
‘Do you know how?’
‘No, but I know a man who can.’
He’s excited now, feet tapping on the floor, eyes shining.
‘I’ll try ringing him.’
I leave him to it. Mia’s ready for bed and so am I. Adam’s given me his room, says he’ll kip on the sofa. I’m embarrassed, but he insists. I give Mia her bedtime feed and then put her down in a drawer on the floor, just like in the squat. I switch off the light and try closing my eyes. I wonder where Vinny is now. Adam said he saw him being led away. The thought of him lying in a cell somewhere makes me want to scream. He doesn’t deserve that, not Vinny.
I think of the rain and the wind, of taking refuge in the tunnel. And I think of Adam, how we keep being drawn back together. And now I’m here, in his room. I told myself I’d keep away from him, but I’ve done the complete opposite. But it’s not the New Year, not yet, so tonight I’m going to enjoy being warm and safe, and I’m going to sleep as long as Mia will let me.
Chapter 47: Adam
I hear her screaming through my sleep. It cuts into my dreams and drags me up to the surface. It’s a dreadful sound, tears at my heart. I know it’s Sarah before I’m fully awake. I shove the blankets back and sprint up the stairs to my room and knock quietly on the door. She don’t hear me – she’s making too much noise herself.
I open the door and go in. Sarah’s in my bed, sitting bolt upright with both arms out in front of her. Her eyes are open, and she’s shouting Mia’s name over and over again. Mia’s in a drawer on the floor and, amazingly, she’s still asleep.
‘It’s all right, Sarah,’ I say, from the doorway. ‘Mia’s here. She’s okay.’
She don’t turn to look at me, but she’s heard me.
‘No!’ she insists. ‘She’s in there. She’s there on her own. Help me. Help me!’ She starts sobbing. Her eyes might be open but she’s not awake – she’s deep inside her nightmare.
I walk over to the bed and sit down on the edge of the mattress. I touch Sarah’s arm gently.
‘Sarah,’ I say. ‘It’s a dream, only a dream. You need to wake up.’
She’s still sobbing.
‘Sarah,’ I say, more loudly this time, ‘wake up. Wake up now. It’s just a dream.’ I grip her arm more firmly and give it a little shake.
She turns her face then, and gasps.
‘No,’ she says. ‘No, not you!’
‘Sarah, you’re at my house, everything’s okay.’
‘Adam?’ she whispers, and she screws up her eyes, like she’s struggling to tell if she’s awake or still in her dream.
‘It’s me, Sarah. You’re here with me. You had a bad dream, but you’re safe now. Everything’s all right.’
Her hands flop down onto the bed.
‘Was I shouting?’
Only loud enough to wake the dead.
‘Yeah, a little bit.’
‘I used to wake Vin up too,’ she sighs. ‘In the end he got used to it.’
‘You were shouting that she was “in there”, the baby. Where are you in your dream?’
‘I dunno. Some sort of building, a house, but it’s collapsing and there are flames and …’ She starts breathing heavily.
‘Shh … it’s all right. Don’t think about it now. It’s all right.’
‘I’m so tired, Adam. So tired, but if I close my eyes, it’ll all come back again.’
I shuffle up the bed a bit, but I don’t touch her. I’m just there, if she wants me.
‘No it won’t,’ I say. ‘You’ll be okay.’
‘Will you stay here with me? Wake me up if I start again?’
I’ll stay with you for ever. I’d swim the Channel for you. I’d walk on broken glass.
‘Yeah, course. Here,’ I say, ‘shift over a bit.’
I’m next to her now, and she leans her head on me in that place between my shoulder and my chest.
I see her eyelashes dip and she closes her eyes. It’s not long before she’s asleep, but I stay awake for ages, watching over her. I’m drinking her in: the weight of her, her sweet smell, the way her body moves gently against mine as she breathes in and out. I want to remember how this feels, how I feel, every detail. I don’t want to forget a thing.
I must have drifted off, though, because before I know it I’m waking up. Sarah’s still there. She’s tilted her head and she’s looking up at me. She smiles.
‘Hello,’ she whispers.
‘Hello, Sarah.’
I’ve got another hard-on, and the warmth of her, her closeness, it’s almost too much to bear.
‘Had a nice sleep?’ I ask.
‘Yeah.’ She’s relaxed, happier than I’ve ever seen her before. ‘Thank you,’ she says, ‘for being here.’
We haven’t stopped eye contact since I woke up. It’s a peaceful thing, intense and intimate, beautiful. Her eyes flick down to my mouth and back to my eyes. She’s thinking about it, I know she is, and suddenly so am I and I think, It’s now or never. Now. And I bend forward just a little and I kiss her.
Her mouth is so soft. Half of mine is stiff with scar tissue, but hers is soft all over. Her lips are closed to start with. She lets me kiss her – she don’t kiss me back – but then she makes this tiny noise, halfway between a grunt and a sigh, and she closes her eyes and opens her mouth, and her lips are pressing back against mine, and I know she wants me as much as I want her.
Her breath is stale from sleep, but I don’t mind. I taste her on my tongue, and I can’t get enough.
She puts her hand round the back of my neck, caressing me. Still kissing we move so that she’s more underneath me. I run my hand down her arm, and then across. Her nipples are hard through the soft material of the T-shirt, and wet. I realise with a shock that she must be leaking milk. Her tits aren’t soft, like I expected. They’re hard, too, and warm, almost hot.
‘Careful,’ she says. ‘They’re sore.’
I move my hand away quickly, but she puts her hand on mine and places it back on her breast. ‘It’s okay, but gently.’
We kiss again. She moves her hands under my T-shirt and runs them over my ribs and my back, exploring me with her fingertips.
I match her moves, feeling under her clothes, up around her back and down around the curve of her bum. She’s stopped moving now, her muscles are tense, but I want more, I need to find out about every bit of her. I slide my hand round her thigh … and she twitches violently, trying to throw my hand off.
‘No!’ she says, and it’s loud and there’s an edge of panic in her voice.
‘Sarah, I thought you wanted …’
She shoves me away from her.
‘No, not that. I’m sorry. I thought I could, but I can’t.’
I don’t understand what’s changed. She wanted me. She put my hands on her body.
‘Sarah …?’
‘No! Leave it! I can’t. I don’t want to. Not with you. Not with …’
I stand up and back away.
‘I get it,’ I say. ‘I’m disgusting. I’m the Elephant Man. Of course you wouldn’t want to do it with me.’
Mia’s woken up now and starts to cry. I stumble to the door. Behind me, I can hear Sarah, ‘No, Adam, it’s not that. Adam …’ But I don’t want to hear her excuses. I was stupid to think that anything could happen between us. Stupid to think it could ever happen with anyone.
I blunder out of the room and head for the stairs. Nan’s standing in the doorway of her room, her hair all tousled and her eyes not quite open properly. She raises her eyebrows at me.
‘Adam?’ she says. ‘What the …’
‘Just don’t ask. Not now, Nan. Not ever, all right?’
Chapter 48: Sarah
I can’t do it. I thought I could. I thought I wanted to, but I can’t. I don’t know if I ever will. I know Adam’s different. He likes me, he really does and I like him, but that feeling of his weight on top of me, his hands running over my skin, freaks me out. It’s not logical, it doesn’t come from my mind, which is wanting him, excited to be with him. It’s programmed into my body, as if that reacts all on its own, separate from anything else.
It’s been a long time since my body felt like mine. At home, for years, it belonged to Him. He could have me, take me, whenever He wanted to. Now, it belongs to Mia. Magically, my body has done what it’s needed to do to grow her, and give birth to her and feed her. I didn’t know I could do this, but it happened. My body knew.
Sometime, one day, my body will be mine again. But who knows when that’ll be, or who I’ll be or how I’ll feel. And in the meantime Adam storms off. He calls himself the Elephant Man. He thinks he’s repulsive, but it’s not that. It’s not that at all. It’s not you, it’s me. Oh God, it’s such a cliché, but it’s true. I never meant to hurt him. Now what will he think about me – bitch, cow, cock-teaser?
‘Looks as if we’re out of here,’ I say to Mia. ‘Messed that up, didn’t I?’
I pack our things up before going downstairs. Adam’s on the couch, curled up, eyes tight shut. The telly’s on, but he’s not watching. Val’s in the kitchen, perched on a stool and the room’s thick with smoke. I stop in the doorway. Too smoky for Mia in there, too full of Adam in the lounge. There’s nowhere for us to go – we’d better just leave.
‘I’ll just put her in the buggy,’ I say, ‘and fetch the rest of our things.’
‘Why? Where are you going?’ Val stubs out her cigarette. ‘It was very kind of you to let us stay, but we should go and find somewhere else now.’
‘You got somewhere, have you?’ She looks at me, intently.
‘Yes, I’ve got a couple of places I can try,’ I lie. I don’t want anyone feeling sorry for me or obliged or anything. I just want to go – I shouldn’t have come here in the first place. We’ll head out of London, and if we get picked up, well, I’ll just have to deal with it.
I walk over to the buggy and try to lie Mia down, but she’s not tired. She lets out a scream of temper.
‘Please, Mia. Just lie down. I don’t need this.’
She carries on screaming, but I strap her in and head upstairs for our bags. When I come down again, Val’s standing by Mia, cooing at her. It’s not helping.
‘It’s all right,’ I say, ‘we’re going now.’ I stuff the bags under the buggy and pull on my jacket.
‘You don’t need to,’ says Val.
Behind her on the sofa, Adam’s still got his eyes closed, but he can’t possibly be asleep, not with this racket going on.
‘She’s going, Adam,’ Val says to him. ‘Aren’t you even going to say goodbye?’ He opens his eyes then, and looks straight at me. His face is blank. I feel like I’ve killed part of him.
I take a step forward. It can’t end like this. Misunderstandings heaped up between us.
‘Adam,’ I say, ‘it’s not you. It’s not you, it’s …’
He slams his fist into the sofa.
‘Stop it!’ he yells. ‘Don’t say that, don’t ever say it!’
‘Okay, okay, I’m going.’ It’s no good talking to him. I’ve upset him so much, it’s better to leave him to it. I go to the front door and wedge it open, so I can get the buggy out. I manage to bump it down the step. Mia’s still crying, but I can’t pick her up until we’re well away from here. I turn to shut the door behind me, and suddenly Adam’s there, in the doorway. I’ve no idea what he’s going to do – shout at me, hit me, kiss me. He’s fizzing with energy, right on the edge. His hands are balled up into fists. He thrusts one towards me.
‘Here,’ he says. He turns his hand over and opens his fingers. There’s a couple of notes and some coins in it.
‘No, don’t be stupid,’ I say.
‘Have it. Get out of London. There’s three days to go. Get Mia away from here. Away from me.’
He’s looking down as he speaks. But when he says ‘me’ his eyes flick up to meet mine, and now they’re not dead or lifeless. The spark’s back and it’s a spark I recognise – a pinprick of fear dancing in his eyes.
‘Take it,’ he says again, and he puts his hand on top of mine. His touch is so warm. My body reacts to it instantly; a blush spreads over my skin, there’s a sweet ache between my legs. I don’t want to go any more. I want to stay here and fight whatever it is that’s trying to tear us apart. I want to touch his burnt face, kiss it, so he knows I don’t mind.
‘What are you going to do?’
‘I’m going to start making a noise. I’ve got to get people out of London.’
‘On your own?’
‘Yeah, I dunno, whatever.’
We’re both standing there now, like there’s unfinished business between us. I’ve taken the money, but he hasn’t taken his hand away. I don’t want him to take his hand away.
‘I could help you,’ I say.
We’re looking at each other now, and for a second or two I wonder if he’s thinking what I’m thinking – that we’re meant to be together, that we can do this.
He moves his hand away from mine, and gently touches my face, the way I once touched him.
‘No,’ he says, and his voice is low and gruff. ‘You need to get away. That’s the best thing you can do. Take Mia somewhere safe.’
He’s right. I’ve known it all along. The only way to escape the future, my nightmare, is to be nowhere near Adam on the first.
‘Okay,’ I say, ‘I’ll go. But I’ll keep in touch, shall I? Maybe when this is all over, we can …’
I can’t imagine what’s the other side of the New Year. I don’t know what the world will be like. I don’t know if any of us will still be alive. Adam knows. He’s seen my number.
‘Adam …?’
‘Yeah.’
I suddenly realise that I don’t want to know if I’ve got a week, or a month, or a year. He said he’d never tell me, and he’s right, it’s best that way. I don’t want to know my own death sentence.
‘Take care.’
I dart forward and kiss his cheek, the one with the scarring. He closes his eyes, and I turn and walk quickly down the path. Don’t look back. Don’t look back. I can’t help it – I look over my shoulder and he’s still standing in the doorway. His eyes are open now, and he’s standing there, watching. He raises his arm and drags his sleeve across his eyes, and his face distorts – a smile that’s not a smile. I can’t watch him cry. I turn away and I walk on.
Chapter 49: Adam
She’s walking away, and perhaps it’s the best thing for both of us, for all of us. I want to scream, ‘Come back!’ I want to run after her and spin her round and hold her. But part of me, the good part of me, is happy she’s going – because now she’ll be safe and Mia will be safe. And if they’re not, it won’t be me that’s hurt them.
We’re doing it, I think. It doesn’t have to end the way we’ve seen. We’re changing it.
I go back into the house and get dressed properly.
‘Where are you going?’ Nan asks.
‘Churchill House,’ I say. ‘I’m going to see a man about a screen.’
She reaches for her coat.
‘No, Nan. Stay here. I’m going to do this on my own.’ I’m buzzing with it all now: the possibility of changing things; the chance to save lives, hundreds, thousands of lives.
She’s still got her coat in her hands.
‘Nan, I won’t be long. I’ll see Nelson and then I’ll come home.’
‘It feels like it’s getting close, Adam. I don’t want to let you out of my sight. I made that mistake before. I let your dad go …’
She’s twisting the coat in her hands, wringing the life out of it. Before I know it, I’ve stepped towards her to give her a quick hug. Her arms go round me and she hugs me back, keeping me there a bit too long for comfort.
‘I’ll be back soon,’ I say, and she lets go.
‘Okay,’ she says, ‘okay. I’ll see you later.’ She turns away but she doesn’t head for her stool in the kitchen, she sits down on the sofa, in front of the news. And I’m out of there, jogging along the road. I suppose I’m half-hoping to catch up with Sarah, but there’s no sign of her on the main road.