Peace Page 2

  At the make-up counter of one of the large department stores the cashier, an anaemic-looking young girl, had paused in the middle of the transaction with a frown and told me she needed to call the credit card company for authorisation before she could process the payment.

  I had smiled calmly and nodded, not sure whether my seemingly unconcerned manner had quelled the spark of suspicion I saw light up her dark eyes. Then I turned to search casually through the lipsticks on display by the cash desks. Still unperturbed, my eyes had wandered around the rest of the department store scanning the small islands of make-up, perfume and accessories counters as well as the heavy sprinkling of shoppers in the store. Only mildly concerned about what I was going to do, I had picked up my shopping bags and moved a few feet away to a perfume counter, pulled out a tester and sprayed it on my wrist. Feeling the cashier’s eyes still on me as she waited to be put through to the credit card company, I had approached another sales assistant and asked a question about the tester bottle in my hand, smiling easily the entire time. Once I saw the cashier turn around, I quickly ended the conversation and moved a few feet away to another make-up counter where I hid behind a display unit and pretended to look at the colourful disks of eye shadow before me.

  I had eventually wandered out of the busy store and walked away slowly, at first expecting to feel a hand on my arm with every step I took. But there had been no hand on my arm as I mingled with the rest of the shoppers spilling out of other shops and I had looked back once to see no security guards rushing toward me.

  I gave no sigh of relief when I reached the tube station, and felt no adrenalin rush, no excitement or sense of achievement when I realised I had gotten away. I wondered then whether what I had managed to avoid that day was what I was in fact waiting for. Perhaps I had been waiting to get caught so I could be put behind bars. Maybe I was waiting for things to get worse than they were at this moment in time so I would be forced to make a decision that would see an end to all this one way or another.

  I couldn’t help but sigh heavily whenever I thought about my life and the many days I spent holed up in my bed-sit waiting for whatever it was that I couldn’t even articulate. I wondered how I had survived for so long like this, how I endured the futility of my existence now that his beautiful face was no longer the first thing I saw when I opened my eyes in the morning.

  I had no ready answers, so I sighed again and considered cancelling my appointment and retracing my steps back home. That was when a familiar-looking coat, together with her familiar walk, appeared. She came nearer and before I could find somewhere to hide, she turned and looked in my direction.

  Although she was ten years older than me, the physical resemblance we shared was obvious even though she was a healthy size twelve instead of the painfully thin size eight I had withered to over the past two years. Her eyes held mine for a few seconds as the distance between us closed and I involuntarily braced myself for what was coming.

  No matter how many times she did this, the feeling as my older sister Barbara lifted her head, averted her gaze and walked right past me always felt the same. Like a cold, hard blow.

  She was soon gone; lost amongst the other strangers on the street and it was only when the bus I had been waiting for arrived that I realised I was trembling and a stray tear was running down one cheek. I touched my face, puzzled by that solitary tear. Then I boarded the bus and concentrated on putting the thought of his beautiful face, the white box, and the stranger that had just passed me, out of my mind. But I was sure one or all of those thoughts would find their way back at some point during the day.

  The only other passengers on the top deck were a young black woman with a little girl of approximately six years of age. They were both staring intently at something in the woman’s hand and their heads were bowed together as if they were saying a prayer.

  “Do you wanna scratch it?” the woman asked the little girl, and I guessed then that it must have been one of those lottery scratch cards that she held in her lap.

  “No, you do it. Quickly please, Mum,” the little girl replied before she took a quick breath.

  Her hair was in two bunches and one dark brown puff brushed the woman’s cheek as she leaned protectively closer to her child.

  “Okay, here goes! You ready?”

  “Yes, I’m ready.”

  The excitement lacing their words brought a sad smile to my lips. I heard a soft intake of breath and I found myself holding my breath as well, really hoping against all the odds that Lady Luck was with them and that their lives would be transformed by that little piece of paper the woman held so reverently in her hand. The rush of air that escaped them and the way their shoulders dropped confirmed what I already knew; that they were destined to be like the millions of other people who dared to place their hopes and dreams on a small piece of paper.

  “Ahhh…never mind, babe.” The woman pulled the little girl closer to her and tried to soothe away the palpable disappointment with a loving kiss on the head.

  I watched as they hugged each other, envious of the love and closeness they obviously shared which was worth a lot more than anything they could have won from that scratch card.

  I left the bus a few minutes later and as I began the short walk to my destination, I tried hard not to think about the one special person that had come and gone from my life. Tried hard not to think about how cruelly he had been taken from me.

  Chapter 3

  That evening I was back on my road walking towards the warmth and safety of my bed-sit after what had turned into a relatively good day. I was now in possession of a set of keys to a one-bedroom council flat; my new home. It was something I had longed for ever since moving into my bed-sit nearly a year ago. But now that change had finally come about, I felt no excitement at the prospect of a move, only the weary acceptance that although I was about to face another major change in my life, things would no doubt stay the same.

  It was dark now and probably colder than it had been when I had ventured onto the streets that morning. The cold had fully claimed me, having found its way under my scarf to my neck, was biting painfully at my bare hands and had completely numbed my toes. I must have cast a ghostly figure in my long black coat as I hurried down the streets, occasionally caught under the brilliance of a streetlight as I made my way past the trees lining the street which stretched their dark, thin branches up towards the night sky. As I walked, I tried to think back to the spring and summer months and how different this street had looked when the trees wore robes of emerald green leaves. But found I couldn’t picture it. I couldn’t see past the devastation the winter months had wreaked on the once life-affirming trees, or even imagine they would ever return to their past glory come springtime.

  When I got within twenty feet of the house, I saw a man of around forty leaning against the red door like a dark stain. I immediately recognised the stocky build, medium brown complexion and the cap he always wore. My steps slowed as a feeling of unease began to fill me. That unease deepened when I remembered, too late of course, the forgotten conversation we had shared the day before and the arrangement we had made to meet here at five p.m. It was now closer to six.

  “Daniel...” I began when I reached the house.

  Pushing aside the front gate, I mounted the steps until I stood before him, silenced now by the cold fury in his eyes.

  “Daniel...” I tried again but he didn’t allow me to finish.

  “You takin’ da piss?”

  “No, of course not! I swear, Dan, I just had a hectic day and I forgot–”

  “You forgot?” he hissed. “You best mind I don’t knock some sense into dat empty head o’ yours.”

  I glared at him, the resentment and disgust I felt for him rising like a hot wave.

  “You know what? You can always turn back around and go home!”

  He stiffened. I held my ground, challenging him silently to go ahead and walk down those steps to go back under whatever rock he had crawled out from.
But his hands merely tightened into fists at his sides and his silence confirmed what I had known before I even said those words to him: he wasn’t going anywhere until he had what he came for.

  Trying to diffuse some of the tension, I smiled even though I was sure the smile couldn’t hide the anger that had crept into my eyes and was still lingering there.

  He had no idea how much I hated him.

  “Come on, Dan, don’t be vex. I said I’m sorry.”

  He didn’t answer and after a few moments of tense silence, I stepped past him, opened the front door and walked out of the cold into the warm house. Daniel followed close behind.

  Once inside my room, I switched on the light and closed the door behind us. Daniel stayed by the door whilst I moved over to the window.

  “I saw you talkin’ to some man today. Who was he?” he asked.

  I faced him, making sure that the disgust I felt for him was carefully hidden. He had taken off his coat to reveal a fitted white T-shirt and jeans, clothes that would have looked a lot better on someone in their early twenties. Daniel was nearly fifty and the T-shirt, which was supposed to emphasise a youthful, muscular chest, clung hideously to his soft, flaccid chest and large spongy stomach. The cap he always wore came off next. What was left of his hair had been shaved off, accentuating his ugly pug nose, wide fleshy lips, which were dry and cracked, and bulging eyes.

  “Uh? Where?”

  “On your road. Who was he, Piss?” he asked again, his eyes narrowing as he sat down on the bed.

  “Peace. My name is Peace!” I hissed. “I don’t even know what man you’re talking about. And I don’t know why you’re even questioning me because who I talk to is none of your business.”

  He fixed me with those hateful eyes and I looked away, not because he had succeeded in intimidating me, but because I couldn’t stand the sight of him. He was like a boa constrictor, a bulging, slimy boa constrictor that wrapped itself around its prey and squeezed until it was left with a lifeless little thing it could do exactly what it wanted with. Our arrangement was limited to only one thing, but he desperately wanted to dominate every aspect of me until my life, and everything I did and felt, was in his hands. I tolerated Daniel for only one reason. That reason was heroin and the chance it gave me to reach up out of my hell and touch heaven. Most people would never understand why I let my life revolve around a simple drug, but even though those people had the things that were now completely lost to me, none of them could say they had ever been fortunate enough to taste heaven. I could. I got the chance to experience true bliss at least once a day and that was the only reason I opened my eyes every morning. And the reason I didn’t tell Daniel to get out of my bed-sit and never come back.

  “You tink you’re better dan me, don’t you?” he said from the bed.

  I didn’t answer. I didn’t need to. He smiled slowly, but that smile was more like an ugly gash where his mouth should have been and there was no mistaking the raw anger in his voice when he said, “Take dem clothes off.”

  I hesitated, then kicked off my shoes and slowly peeled off my black polo neck jumper, the grey T-shirt I wore underneath it and my jeans. He watched carefully, seeming to drink in every inch of me as if he was gulping down a cool glass of water. I took off my underwear, tossed everything to one side and walked over to the bed with my eyes lowered, telling myself again and again that it would be over soon and then I could have the heroin I needed to smoke myself into heavenly oblivion. He stopped me with a hand to my thigh when I got to the bed and let his eyes roam over me with a little smile on his lips. Then he reached up for one of my breasts, lifted it up scornfully with his fingers and then let it flop back down to my chest.

  “Saggy, man.”

  I knew I had a beautiful body now and that my breasts were large and full, but the insecurities that had plagued me since my teenage years were quick to respond to the insult. This was what he wanted; me doubting myself and believing what he told me, his way of slowly squeezing the life out of me so that he would be in control. So I pushed away that little pinprick of doubt, before it could turn into a wound, and climbed onto the bed. I ignored the sound of him chuckling softly as he heaved his considerable bulk onto his feet and came to hover over me with the naked hunger he had for young supple flesh in his eyes and smile. When his tongue flicked out to wet his dry, cracked lips, I tried not to shudder at the thought of those lips, which felt like toughened leather, on my skin. I looked away as he slowly unzipped his trousers and pulled out an already erect penis which rose up eagerly to meet me. A condom was torn open and put on slowly, and with a serpent-like agility, he reached down and grasped one of my legs above the ankle and slowly pulled me down the bed until I was directly beneath him.

  I did my best not to let the turmoil in my head and heart show when he pulled my legs apart, lowered himself onto the bed and happily forced his way into me. But a wince betrayed me as he drove in deep, thrusting hard and I felt sharp shooting pains that seemed to go right through me as he hit my womb over and over again. I clamped my mouth shut, not wanting him to have the satisfaction of hearing me scream out in pain as I knew this was his way of punishing me for having kept him waiting. And even though I was in pain, I was strangely grateful that it was like this today because it meant I didn’t have to pretend that his touch was anything other than what it was—an invasion. I didn’t have to kiss him, have his tongue tasting of stale cigarettes snake into my mouth, didn’t have to endure the feel of his lips claiming my neck or breasts.

  After what seemed like an eternity of endless thrusting, he eventually shuddered and released his venom in a low grunt before falling on me. He lay there, breathing heavily into my ear, whilst I resisted the urge to shove him off and it was nearly a minute before he rolled off me.

  A further jolt of pain went through me when I sat up, followed swiftly by nausea and I had to jump off the bed, grab my dressing gown and leave the room. I fled to the bathroom, making it in time to throw up and continued retching long after the contents of my stomach had emptied.

  The tide subsided eventually, and although I was able to avoid the small mirror in the bathroom, I ran into my reflection in the window looking out on the darkness outside. A ghostly, haunted figure scurried away as soon as my eyes fell on her.

  When I returned to the room, Daniel had put his coat back on and was standing by the window. He turned to face me with a self-satisfied smirk when I entered which made me want to scream at him and tear the smugness I saw off his face.

  But it was done now so I smiled instead.

  “Did I jus’ ’ere you throwin’ up?” he said.

  “Yeah, I was.” I picked up the clothes I had discarded, keeping my back to him. “I must be coming down with something,” I lied.

  “Yeah?”

  “So what did you bring for me today, Dan?” I asked, turning to smile at him again.

  “You know what? I ain’t got shit wid me today.”

  I froze and stared at him.

  “W-what do you mean?”

  “I musta forgot,” he said smirking. “I got some weed if you wannit,” he added, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a small bag of weed.

  “You know weed can’t do shit for me!” I cried, hot tears of frustration and anger springing to my eyes. “Daniel, please.”

  “Sorry,” he sniggered as he walked to the door. “Later,” he added, threw the bag of weed on the floor and left the room.

  I stood there, reeling at what he had done for a few minutes before I walked over to my handbag and examined the contents of my purse. I had roughly two pounds left and wasn’t due to sign on for another week. I was screwed basically.

  With shaking hands, I reached for what was left of my precious supply, needing desperately to chase the world and the last half an hour away.

  ***

  Hours later there was a light, tentative knock on my bedroom door. I rose uncertainly and made my way to the bedroom door where I came to an abrupt stop.

/>   Suppose it was Daniel returning?

  I backed away from the door. But then another thought occurred to me.

  Maybe it was Daniel returning with money, or my brown.

  I quickly opened the door but was surprised and disappointed to find the house’s Lady Lazarus, a pretty girl with cinnamon-coloured skin and a slight build, standing before me. She was around my height, had a small nose that sloped up to a wide tip, full lips and shoulder-length hair that had been tightly pulled back into a ponytail that looked hard to the touch. Her face was heavily made up and she wore tight black jeans with a skimpy black top that had a smattering of silver sequins around the bust area. When she lifted her narrow brown eyes to meet mine, I felt myself bristling despite the calming effect of the heroin and the silent promise I had made to be nice to her from now on.

  Her name was Eva, and when she had moved into the house five months ago, the dislike I felt for her had been instant and unwavering. I hadn’t liked anything about her haughty, restrained manner and I hadn’t liked her cool, appraising gaze. This wasn’t helped when a misunderstanding had taken place regarding our electricity bill, the details of which are hazy in my mind, but of which I was probably at fault. That argument had sparked a flame of malice that came to dominate everything I did and said to her. Starting with blatant rudeness, my behaviour had slowly gotten worse with every day that passed and I was soon starting bitter arguments over nothing, basically doing anything and everything I could think of to make living here with me unbearable. The most recent argument had taken place over a week ago and had ended when I sent a rack full of her plates crashing to the floor, something that had given me a powerful feeling of elation as I watched them smash into little pieces. That elation had wavered for a split second as she had stared at me with pure hate burning in her eyes. And I felt a sliver of fear for a moment at the thought that she might actually be angry enough to hit me. Luckily she had simply spun around and walked stiffly back to her room, leaving me to celebrate my little victory alone in the gloomy kitchen.