I owed him that, at least, didn’t I? An explanation?
“I’ve got to stop the numbers, Spider. I’m the only one who sees them. They’re inside me. I can’t get rid of them.” I dropped my voice, speaking more to myself now than to him. “I’ve got to do this. It’s the only way.”
But he didn’t get it. He was still hung up on hearts and flowers.
“It doesn’t have to end like this, Jem. We can be together now.” His words were so seductive – he was the only person in the world who knew what to say to me, what I really wanted to hear.
I started to cry.
“You want that, too, don’t you, Jem? I know you do. You can’t tell me that none of it meant anything to you, can you? Please don’t tell me that…” He was crying, too, now.
I can’t stand men crying. It’s wrong, isn’t it? Their faces aren’t made for it, they kind of crumple; it’s painful to watch.
He was close now, so close to me. If he reached out one of his long arms, he’d be able to grab me. I didn’t want that – I needed to go through with this – it was the most important thing I would ever do.
Three…two… and yet, and yet, to feel him again, to feel his arms around me, just for one last time – that sweet thought held me back.
“Wait, please wait a minute.”
“I’ve got to do it, Spider. You don’t understand.” The rain was mixing with tears on my face, with the snot bubbling out of my nose.
“I don’t understand. I don’t understand, man. We had something. We can still have something. You and me, Jem.”
“No, it never happens. Happily ever after. It’s a lie, Spider. It doesn’t happen to people like us.”
He dropped down to the floor, crouched into a ball, clutching at his springy hair. He was sobbing, saying stuff at the same time. I couldn’t hear him properly. I should’ve jumped then, while he wasn’t looking, that was the time to do it, but I needed to know what he was saying. I didn’t want any loose ends.
“What is it? What is it, Spider?”
He looked up at me. “I can’t go on without you, man. There’ll be nothing left.” He got to his feet, held out his hand. “Give me your hand, Jem. Help me up.”
It’s a trick, I thought. He’s tricking me. I said nothing, did nothing.
“Why won’t you help me?” he said. “I’m coming with you.”
In one easy, fluid movement, he was up on the wall, right next to me. He tried to steady himself against the wind. “Whoa, this is awesome.” His big grin had broken out again now; he couldn’t help himself. “Look at it, man. You can see for miles. Whoo-hooh!” His whoop was whipped away on the wind.
“You’re mental. I always knew you were,” I said.
He grabbed my hand.
“Solid, man, solid. If you really want to do this, I’ll do it with you. We’ll go together. I love you, Jem. I don’t want anyone or anything else.”
Do you know what it’s like to hear those words? To hear the person you love telling you they love you, too? If you don’t now, I hope you do one day.
“I had a blast with you, Jem. These last few weeks, they’ve been the best time of my life. Don’t go without me. I love you.”
He was ready to go. We could dive off there together. His number would be right, after all, and I’d join mine with his.
And then I suddenly thought, Fuck the numbers, fuck it all. How many people meet the person they’re meant to be with? If we stayed indoors, out of harm’s way, maybe we could cheat the numbers after all. What if Karen was right, and it was all in my head – what if the numbers didn’t mean anything at all? If I ignored them, eventually they might go away. Spider and I could have our “happily ever after” ending.
“I love you, too, Spider. I can face anything with you. Let’s go inside, I’m freezing.”
He smiled at me, let go of my hand, and formed a fist. Our knuckles touched. “Safe,” he said.
“Yeah, safe.”
I bent my knees, put my hands on the tops of the stones, and slowly lowered myself back down. When I looked up, Spider was dancing along the top, easy as anything, enjoying the buzz of it, just like he’d danced on the railway sleepers the first day we’d talked, down by the canal.
“Get off there, you silly sod, you’ll break your fucking neck.”
He spun ’round to face me, big daft grin on his face, ready to jump down. Our eyes met, and we held each other’s gaze; my warmth and love for him reflected right back to me. It was going to be alright.
And then his foot slipped on the wet stone, and his balance was gone.
He teetered on the edge for a split second, eyes still on me, thrashing his arms wildly…and then he was gone, falling backward, a look of surprise on his face.
It was so quick, so unreal. I didn’t scream, although someone did far down below. I just watched as he tipped over and over in the air, arms thrashing, hands desperately trying to get a grip on something.
He didn’t hit the ground. His fall was broken by the roof. His fall and his back. Spread-eagled, lifeless, he lay staring upward. I looked into his eyes for the last time. They were still wide open, surprised, but he wasn’t looking back at me. There was no one there anymore.
His number had gone.
CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE
It had pissed down rain all the way over there, but by the time we’d parked the car it had stopped. We walked down the pier, the wind whipping off the sea around us. Clouds were racing across the sky like a speeded-up film clip.
Karen kept asking me, “Are you alright?”
“Yeah, I’m fine.”
Difficult to imagine a time when I’d been less fine, but you know what I meant. I just wanted her to leave me alone.
Halfway down, Val linked her arm through mine. She didn’t need to ask me any stupid questions; she knew what I was going through. She’d waited until I was out of the hospital to do this. They’d had the cremation without me – obviously they couldn’t put that off forever – but she’d kept the pot with his ashes in it until everyone felt I was strong enough to cope.
She’d come to see me in the ward. The first time, I couldn’t speak, not to her or anyone. My head was still trying to take it all in. I couldn’t look her in the eye, either. She’d asked me to look after him; she’d trusted me with him. And I’d let her down. I’d taken him away, knowing he wouldn’t be back. She wasn’t angry with me, though – Christ knows why not. She was angry with him.
“What was the silly sod doing? He had to show off, didn’t he? If I could get my hands on him, I’d wring his neck…” Her hands were trembling in her lap, fiddling with the unlit cigarette she was holding. “Isn’t there a smoking room we could go to, Jem? This is killing me…”
She’d come back again, despite me not talking the first time, and despite the company I was keeping these days: the silent, the screamers, the deluded, and the sad. I managed to get a word out the second time. I’d spent days forming it in my mind, trying to remember how it started, what your mouth did to form the sound. She was talking, but I couldn’t hear what she was saying, I was concentrating so hard on what I needed to get out. She stopped when she saw me lean forward, saw my jaw moving as I forced my mouth to work.
“Sss…sss…”
“What is it, Jem?” She leaned forward, too, breathing her stale, smoky breath into my face.
“Sss…sso…rry.”
“Darlin’, it’s not your fault. It’s not anybody’s fault. Well, it’s his own silly fault, I suppose. How were you to know? He was always doing daft things, wasn’t he?”
I wanted to tell her that I had known. It had all happened just how I thought it would, so fast that you couldn’t stop it, and so slow, each minute leading inevitably to the next. So many chances to do something different, to change the path we were set on. I’d played it over in my mind a thousand times. I should have kept him safe. I should’ve…should’ve…should’ve…