Final Cut(40)

For a second it seems almost as if he’s about to cry. I sense someone watching and look up to see Monica’s gaze fixed on us, her expression unreadable. She looks away when we both notice. He retracts his hand, but something’s happened over there. Ellie’s shoulders have fallen and she appears suddenly, desperately unhappy. As I watch, she glances up at me, almost as if she’d felt my gaze burning into the side of her face. Her eyes are wide and beseeching, her mouth set in a hard line, and I feel the urge to go over to her, to ask her what’s wrong, what’s happened. But I can’t; Kat would step in, as she had in the café, she’d begin answering my questions for her friend and I’d get nowhere. I’m going to have to be cleverer than that.

I look back at Bryan. He’s noticed nothing.

‘Can I have some more?’

He unscrews his flask and begins topping up my drink.

‘Say when.’

I watch him tip the flask, watch as the amber liquid flows into the cup, but it’s as if I’m not there, or rather that I’m disconnected from it, as if I’m somehow watching it both from a great distance and in extreme close-up. And when I see that he’s added as much of the alcohol as I’d like, I can’t work out how to say stop, how to send the signal from my brain along the nerves and into the muscles of my jaw. Instead I watch mutely as he continues to pour, until after what seems like minutes I manage to force myself to shake my head.

‘Enough.’

He looks up. He’s grinning. I hear myself thank him, then stand up.

‘I just … I won’t be a second.’

I head towards the toilets at the back of the room. On the way I manage to catch Ellie’s eye and, though she looks away instantly, I hope she’s seen where I’m going and got the message.

I go in. The light in here is even brighter; there’s a sink, a broken paper-towel dispenser, a cracked bar of pink soap. The noise of the arcade drops to a muted thud as the door closes behind me, but still it’s too loud. I drink some water – stale and lukewarm – then go into the cubicle and lock the door behind me. I listen out but hear only the distant music, the muffled voices and the stomping of my chest. I breathe in as deeply as I can. I try to calm down but can’t.

The door opens and someone comes in. I step out.

It’s Ellie. She’s standing in the doorway; she looks tiny.

‘Ellie,’ I say. ‘Are you okay?’

She doesn’t move. She stares straight at me, utterly still. I get the sense that if I were to move towards her, she’d run, like a startled animal.

‘Talk to me,’ I say, as softly as I can, but she shakes her head.

‘I can’t.’

‘You can,’ I say, nodding. ‘You can trust me. I promise.’

‘He was listening,’ she says quietly.

‘Who? What?’

‘The other day. He was listening.’

‘The boy?’ I say. ‘Kat’s boyfriend?’

She shakes her head.

‘Who, then?’

She doesn’t answer. I remember the phone I saw on the table, remember Kat’s burner phone.

‘What’s wrong, Ellie? What’s going on?’

Still nothing.

‘Is it David?’

She looks up at the mention of his name, but says nothing. She’s terrified.

‘Tell me. What’s he done?’

The door opens once more and Kat comes in. This close, I see her eyes are blackened with kohl and she’s wearing lipstick the colour of a ripe plum. She looks from me to Ellie, and then back. Her face is like a bruise.

‘Oh, you’re here.’

Her arms are bare and I see the circular tattoo on her upper arm, brand new. She stares at Ellie. ‘We have to go.’

‘Ellie, don’t—’

Kat steps forward. She grabs the other girl’s arm. ‘I said, come on!’

Ellie looks at me, but she’s already being dragged towards the door.

‘I’d better go,’ she says, and I know then I need to find some way of speaking to her alone.





23


I return to Bryan, only to tell him I need to leave. He bites his lip.

‘Everything all right?’

‘Yes,’ I say, vaguely. ‘It’s just … getting late.’

He laughs briefly at the excuse, and I glance over to where Monica was standing with the girls. She’s drifted off a little now, and both Kat and Ellie stand with the others, looking happy enough.

I smile as winningly as I can. ‘It’s just … work, you know. I have to try and get an edit done soon. I’m on a deadline.’ I add: ‘For my producer.’ He nods slowly, his disappointment evident. ‘I’ll see you soon.’

I avoid Ellie and Kat as I leave but walk right past Monica. I smile at her, and she reciprocates, but half-heartedly. If she’s so keen to help out the girls, I wonder why she told me that Ellie is fine, when it’s clear she’s not. I wonder what she really believes.

I turn left. The air is cold and damp, and a few steps up the street there’s a recessed doorway from where I can keep watch on the arcade. I will Ellie to come out by herself, but after fifteen minutes or so I’m disappointed; Kat appears with her friend in tow, Monica straight after them, with others trailing her. She and the girls huddle in a group, then she glances at her watch. ‘Come on, girls,’ she says. ‘We don’t want to be late.’