Page 28

Burning buildings

I rolled over to check my phone. Nothing. Ben must’ve known he would see me. Was he not bothered? He’d looked bothered, but he hadn’t said anything.

I grunted to myself as I got up, in need of a shower.

Derek

I need your help with something, can you come to the corner shop? Don’t tell anyone. It’s a surprise x

Sliding my phone into the pocket of my fresh jeans, I shoved yesterday’s muddy clothes into the washing machine.

“Good morning. Can you stomach some breakfast?”

Susan teased from the kitchen as I straightened up.

My mouth was a desert, and the change in position made me queasy. “Thanks, but I’m nipping to the shop quickly,”

I replied, walking past her for my coat.

“Well, don’t be long. I want to hear all about Charlie and Lucy.”

I smiled at her. “And Damien.”

Susan had enjoyed the stories of the last few weeks as we’d gotten to know each other better.

“Ooh,”

she said, clutching a cup of tea.

I suggestively raised my eyebrows up and down.

“Grab my umbrella, it looks like it’ll rain again,”

she added.

“Cheers, Mum,”

I replied easily, too easily. It just slipped out, and there was no taking it back. My lips tingled with the feeling of the word.

Mum.

I’d never thought twice when saying the word to Ruby, yet this moment felt like crashing into the cold river after Sophie. My trance was broken by Susan’s movement as I stayed rooted to the spot, my pulse rocking my body. She simply raised her lavender mug and nodded. A silent acceptance. She calmly sipped her tea as I watched, transfixed, waiting for something to happen, expecting the world around me to melt, or to wake up back in my caravan in a cold sweat.

It didn’t.

I didn’t.

My throat was thick as I swallowed the distant taste of cherry shots, nodding slowly back and willing my legs to keep me standing. Susan’s face broke into a wide, glossy, all-consuming smile and she tilted her head ever so slightly to the side. I sniffed back the breaking wave of comforting, overwhelming love – an emotion I was navigating at a terrifying pace. A feeling both liberating and imprisoning, deeply fulfilling, yet petrifying. Love hurt, because feeling it made me realise how much faster I would starve without it again.

Rain began to fall as I paced around the small street corner towards the little shop. I grimaced, not wanting to be damp again. I wondered what the surprise was as my mind calmed. It hit me that I didn’t know when their birthdays were; I hoped I hadn’t missed one since I’d been back. I checked my phone before lifting my head and seeing the shopfront appear.

“Chantelle.”

I turned instinctively before realising why the name sounded odd.

My blood ran cold.

Marcus waved an arm at me from his chunky silver pick-up on the other side of the road.

Where was Derek?

I froze, clutching the umbrella handle. Marcus causally waved Derek’s phone. I gulped. I knew it. I had always known he’d be back. My legs moved frantically as I sprinted towards him with rage filling my body, raising the umbrella as a weapon. I lunged for the phone, but Marcus grabbed my wrist through the open window.

“Where is he?”

I hissed, feeling my bones compact under his strong grip. He pulled my face closer to his so I could feel his moist breath.

“Nice to see you again too. Let’s not cause a scene this time, do as yer told, for once, and get in the truck.”

His voice was poison as he mocked me, tapping the passenger seat.

I wrenched my wrist from his grip, dropping the umbrella, and jogged around the bonnet, climbing into the empty passenger seat without thinking. It felt more like I was watching myself do it than anything else.

“Where is he?”

I demanded, pulling the door shut with a cracking thud. “None of this is his fault, you stupid bastard.” Anger possessed me violently and I welcomed it.

He pulled the truck away. “You’ll see. Don’t worry.”

He glanced at me, black hair immobile from the grease, his thin lips curling. “Put yer seatbelt on. We don’t want any more attention from the pigs, do we?”

I sat back in the chair, dizzy as my heart beat in a frenzy. I’d been in this truck before. It felt like it had happened a lifetime ago. A different life. A different girl. I looked at the scratched plastic clasp of the glove box and wondered what was in there. If I could reach it, find something sharp, take us off the road…

What about Derek? A chill lifted my spine. What if Marcus just had his phone? What if I’d climbed into the truck too readily and Derek was safe in the shop all this time.

“What do you want, Marcus?”

I seethed, subtly rolling my hips against the seat, feeling for my phone.

He kept looking at the road as he sped up, violently swerving around parked cars as we headed away from the village towards the countryside.

“I told you what we wanted, Miss Ivy fuckin’ White, y’know what we wanted. We wanted peace. We wanted to let you go on yer merry way, not dig up shit you had no need to.”

“Fuck you!”

I shouted, fury and fear battling for dominance.

He wheezed a laugh. “That offer’s long expired, love, but I knew you’d always come round.”

“You’re disgusting.”

I glanced around the car; the door was still unlocked. I could jump. No. My back thrust into the seat as the truck swerved around another corner, pressing me into the door as he steered down a side road. I cursed, watching cars streak past the window in flashes of colour, my fingers digging into my palms. I moved my hips again, trying to dislodge my phone from my back pocket, easing my hand steadily to the side. The app the police had installed was two taps away.

“Touch that and they won’t even find his body,”

Marcus stated calmly, sending a fresh chill through me.

“Why? What did I ever do to you? I taught you to read, for god’s sake. I kept my promise, I never told anyone, and what? Why are you so cruel?”

He grinned, showing yellowing teeth. “Come now, yer the one that left, sweetheart.”

“Why would I have stayed? How was I supposed to live like that?”

For a second, I thought I saw a crack in his grotesque fa?ade, but my body was thrumming so hard with fear, with the image of Derek’s face, with memories of atrocities I’d seen them commit, that my mind was a scramble.

“All you ever did was make life hard for yerself. Princess Chantelle: too good for us, now and always.”

“What, because I wouldn’t fuck you? I saw the girls, Marcus. I heard them scream.”

“Don’t preach to me, darlin’. We did what we needed to. You’re the one insistin’ on causin’ trouble. I’m just cleanin’ up.”

I heard his foot hit the floor as we bounced down a gravelly path, crashing through potholes.

I knew where we were.

The old site was mostly abandoned. It was isolated; surrounded by trees, piles of rubbish, and rotting logs. It was at the back of an abandoned sports ground that had been shut down since they’d left it in disrepair. Even the air hurtling through the window smelt damp and sinister. I scanned the fields and scattering of trees for Derek as the brakes slammed, lurching me forwards. I desperately analysed the landscape, spotting a derelict building: the old changing room and toilet block, they must be in there.

As Marcus hopped out of the truck, I knew I had to act fast. I scrambled for my phone, keeping it hidden behind my leg so I could tap through to the tracking app. Then I broke open the glove box, cracking my fingernails as I frantically rifled through the contents until I found something sharp and shoved it in my back pocket. I threw the door open and ran. I ran as fast as I could through the grass, feeling my feet slide and fail to find grip. Faster and faster I pushed, step after step, strides stretching, grass whipping me. Gareth and his short, bald sidekick spun to look at me from the back of the building, sickly petrol fumes filling my throat as I gasped for breath. I slid to a stop, throwing my weight behind me.

Derek, where is he? What is this?

A shot cracked though the air, sending me cascading into the mud as my feet flew out from under me. My ears rang so loudly I couldn’t think, light flashing over my eyes. I wasn’t sure for a second which way was up. The pellets had bounced from the ground, sending tufts of turf flying through the air, but I couldn’t stop.

I clambered up frantically, but Marcus was already there, wrenching me by my arm, pulling me to my feet as my legs thrashed. I flung an elbow back with everything I had, missing his nose and cracking it into his grey eye socket.

“Bitch!”

he screamed, shaking me violently, nearly ripping my shoulder from its socket.

My muscles burned as they tried to hang on.

“Derek!”

I screamed as loud as I could. “Derek!”

I fought Marcus’ grip, my free arm swinging around, nails out, looking for something to hit. Other hands were soon on me, twisting it behind my back.

“Derek!”

They forced me to my knees.

A boot hit me hard in the back of the head; I flew forwards onto the floor. Unwilling to stop, I crawled through the mud, gripping it as I crawled away. Marcus grabbed my ankle and yanked me backwards. I twisted turbulently in the mud like a possessed animal, kicking out my other leg. There was no pain, just panic; just energy. Just rage and the ringing in my ears.

“Tell me, Chantelle. Where did you see this goin’?”

Marcus muttered, as the other men folded their arms, enjoying the show; circling around me like a pack of rabid dogs.

Marcus dropped my leg to the floor and I lay there for a second, panting; looking from one of them to the other, trying to catch a thought. I dragged my coat sleeve across my mouth.

“You think you’re above the law, Marcus. They’ve got you this time. You. Will. Rot,”

I hissed, spitting reddened mud at his feet, tasting the blood and the dirt and the adrenaline. “I told them everything. You made me do all those books, you all treated me like a piece of shit, and thought, what? That I wouldn’t try and burn you all to the fucking ground?”

I bent my knees one at a time, peeling myself up. Facing him. Stepping towards him. All those years of being beaten and undermined; all the times he’d made me feel small.

I knew I’d delivered the final blow with the evidence, one way or the other. This was my end. This was how it ended. Finally, I stood before him; finally, I felt the storm fully rumble in me again.

Before I could think about what I was doing, my arm swirled forcibly through the rain, slapping him hard across the face. Marcus was so shocked that he stumbled back, tripping in the mud, struggling to find his footing as my hand pulsated.

“You’re all pathetic, weak fools,”

I spat, twirling around and pointing, narrowing my eyes. I was a women possessed with years of pent-up rage.

Click.

The gun cocked as Marcus snatched it from Gareth, resting the barrel over his own forearm.

“They won’t get us.”

He crinkled his oily nose with disgust.

The stench of whisky and petrol clouded my senses.

“I wouldn’t be so sure.”

He curled his finger around the trigger. I watched it. I wasn’t scared, just alive. In that moment, every part of me was alive.

“Show ’er in, lads,”

he snarled.

I barely had time to flinch as the two men grabbed my arms again, forcing them back behind me and thrusting me forwards. Marcus followed, gun pointed.

The building smelt damp and the walls were fluffy with green, the rotting structure slowly revealing itself in the gloom. We turned the corner into a changing room, heading through a small entrance hall when I saw him.

Derek.

Two wooden benches topped with hooks lined the square room. He was slumped against a big metal radiator, attached to it with a white cable tie around his wrists, silver duct tape over his mouth. My stomach churned, my eyes screaming at him, screaming pain and guilt and apology. He was my dad. My actual dad.

The dad who loved me.

Blue tainted Derek’s face, the swelling growing, red blood and pink skin around his go-to green, v-neck jumper. They’d ruined his favourite jumper. His eyes held a sorrow so intense my knees buckled. Tears rolled out of nowhere. I felt a cable tie cut into my wrists before I was thrown onto the dirty concrete floor.

“This,”

Marcus’s voice rang out with a sense of grotesque power, “is what happens, my darlin’, when you go thinkin’ yer anythin’ more than a stupid, worthless slut.” He gripped my hair, twisting my head to face the other corner.

Sam.

I hadn’t even noticed him, bound and gagged. My body yelped. Marcus laughed as sickness rose in my stomach. Unlike Derek, Sam’s eyes were closed, browning blood dripping down his face. It ran along the tape, pooling into his blue plaid shirt. I heard a noise from Derek – almost a squeak – the best he could manage, and my heart broke, parts of me cracking and falling and breaking. Sam looked dead. He looked dead.

Derek couldn’t look like that.

“Take it all in!”

Marcus crowed. “Take in what you’ve done. Could’ve kept yer ponies, and yer calculators, but no. You choose this. Enjoy it all, Chantelle. I know I will.”

“Let him go! Let Derek go, Marcus! Kill me. Kill me now! He did nothing!”

He laughed, the unhinged sound bouncing off the walls. “Why would I do that? Silly, silly girl. We’re leavin’, cleanin’ up. Tyin’ up loose ends, if you will. I knew you’d like to see yer Sam, I knew you were soft, but the pain you caused our Ruby and Frank? The shame? You can watch ‘em both burn for that. I hope it’s real slow. I hope you burn last. I hope you burn forever.”

“Please, Marcus! I’ll retract my statement with the police! I’ll do anything! Please!”

Derek shook his head at me frantically as Marcus laughed again, striking and throwing down a match. The whoosh of flame igniting rippled around the room as he slowly walked away.

The fire grew with such a ferocity that my eyes stung from the glare. Orange flames danced along petrol paths. It climbed the walls and swept violently over the ceiling. Immediately, dust, mould, and grit puffed and blew from the force of the greedy flames. I bent my knees, struggling to twist my hands, pulling and pulling. Writhing on my side, I slid back, one push first, then another, to the end wall, struggling up into a sitting position.

I felt something sharp between my jeans and the floor, something cool and hard as the flames glowed in Derek’s wide eyes. Pulling on the cable tie I leant to my side and grasped the pliers I’d stashed, feeling around until they stabbed into my contorted palm. I shuffled back, fighting to slide one of the metal prongs between my wrists. I laughed as they caught the plastic, through a frenzied sob. With a final contortion and using the concrete to steady my palm, the plastic clicked and my arms swung apart.

I’d done it.

I lurched for Derek, immediately tearing off the tape, revealing a red rectangle over his face as my knees crashed clumsily into his.

“Ivy, get out,”

he rasped with his first breath.

The fire roared around us, littered with the crash of falling debris as the fragile structure started to give in – even the floor was getting warm. A smash next to us sent a whirl of dust our way, taking our sight as I felt for the cable tie on his wrists.

“No. No, I won’t. I won’t!”

“Ivy, look at me. Look at me!”

He nuzzled at his shoulder, trying to clear the dirt from his eyes.

My thumb pulled into my jacket to quickly mop his brow. I heard another crash; I arched over him as more debris plummeted down around us and the flames danced closer.

Tears kept coming, salty warm drips sticky on my lips. “No!”

I sobbed. “We’re getting out. You’re getting out.”

I thrust the metal between Derek’s swelling wrists, blinking out a tear of dirt. The angle was wrong.

“You need to go. Go for Susan. She won’t survive it again. You deserve a life. I had you, Ivy, we got you back. Seeing you, meeting you, it’s been the honour of my life.”

I ignored him, his words burning hotter than the fire now covering each wall.

Snap.

Derek was free. He careered forcefully towards me as I fumbled to catch him, but he was heavy and we both fell to the floor.

“Come on,”

I pleaded with him as he tried to regain control of his battered body and stand.

I tugged his swollen arm over my shoulder and willed my legs to straighten, dragging us towards the glowing door. I knew if we burst out, there’d be a gun waiting for us.

“Wait here,”

I spluttered.

I felt his hand in mine.

“Ivy.”

I allowed myself to pause as we cleared the first door from the changing room, just for a second. Derek tipped back heavily against the concrete wall, heaving and gulping. The flames were behind us, not yet underneath us, but I could see that the other changing room was violently ablaze, the heat clenching my skin. I could barely make out Derek’s familiar face in the gloom.

“I love you,”

I gasped, not knowing what else to say.

“I love you too,”

he replied, before losing his breath to a cough. He buckled, nearly falling over.

There wasn’t time to think; the building didn’t have long left. Two steps back would have to be enough. I gripped my fist around the pliers, squeezing the worn rubber handle and charged, slamming into the wooden door, back into blinding daylight.

I saw Gareth turn first.

I ran. I ran into him, through him, shunting the thick metal points deep into his stomach. We fell to the grass together as time slowed. His bald friend spun on his heels, but the pliers wouldn’t come free; they were stuck inside Gareth. My fingers released the handles, watching him recoil in shock and gurgle a cry. Time slowed further as I felt one foot find the earth, then the other.

Marcus came from behind me, lifting the gun once more. As the shining barrel rose, I ran with all the energy I had left. I pushed my trainers into the mud and tackled him with all my might, sending us flying through the door and back into the burning entrance. A shot fired into the air as I fell onto Marcus, both of our bodies recoiling with the force. I let myself tumble into him as we fell past Derek, smoke swirling, when the sound of another voice, another muffled cry, cut through the dense smouldering chaos.

It was Sam.

Metal slid over my shoulder. In his shock, Marcus had dropped the gun. I gripped the heavy wooden handle and lunged for Derek’s hand, yanking him forward.

We ran.

As we crashed into the undergrowth, at least twenty meters from the building and finally in slight cover, Derek’s legs gave way. We fell again, tumbling and twisting, legs crashing, bodies colliding, finally landing on woody undergrowth. I scrambled to prop him up against a tree and pressed a hand into his chest.

“Derek?”

I cried though a new wave of tears. “Derek? Dad?”

His breathing was too fast. I crouched down, my hand on his heart, checking that it was beating. I wiped a trail of tears on my forearm as I felt it, more grateful in that moment than I’d ever been for anything.

“Derek, here, look after this,”

I stuttered, thrusting the cold gun into his arms, Sam’s cries ringing in my ears.

Derek gasped out a plea, but I was gone. I knew if I looked at him, if I allowed him to speak, I’d lose the courage. It was crazy; I knew it was reckless, but I couldn’t live with Sam’s screams running through my mind. He might have been weak and ignorant, but he wasn’t cruel. He deserved life. He didn’t deserve to die because of me. He deserved a chance.

Marcus was staggering out of the crumbling entrance, cursing and lurching to his feet as I peered around the brambles. The entire building was glowing and crackling. My ears were still ringing, my mouth tasted of metal and soot, and my body was thrumming with adrenaline. I felt the life running through my veins. I pictured Sam’s face; pictured laughing with him over a crate of puppies; his smile. I pictured the faces of his family.

Pushing off into a sprint one more time, my lungs screamed from the smoke that was now polluting even the outside air. A droplet of rain hit my forehead, cooling it, then another, and another. Cool, crisp, wet, welcome rain.

I didn’t let my legs stop as I neared the door, but Marcus was too quick. He looked wild – barely human – as he bulldozed into me mid-step. Thick fingers gripped my throat before I could twist away, rushing me, one agonising step at a time, back into the burning entrance. Standing at the threshold, small flames licked around his feet, but he was too engorged with fury to care. Fearlessly, he stepped further in so he could force me against the red-hot wall. My nails snapped as I clawed desperately, choking, but he didn’t flinch. He just squeezed.

My mouth desperately opened, sucking in hot, thick air that had nowhere to go. Red ribbons danced behind us, now covering the entrance. I reached my hand to his face, trying to keep fighting, but I couldn’t reach. I looked him in the eyes through the dark haze. After everything, it came down to me and him. I felt him grind my body further against the wall, my feet dangling as my throat was crushed even more. The heat kept building against me, against the wall, more blazing wood toppling from the ceiling as lumps of plaster smashed to the floor. His lips pursed; he had no words, just hatred.

Both of us stood there, in the fire, hating each other.

Ending each other.

Crash.

Metal glinted in the light of the inferno, something substantial hitting Marcus on the side of his head with a glorious thwack. Falling, my feet hit the floor as he flew sideways. I seized my throat, my body convulsing in desperation for air, as my legs buckled. The silhouette of Marcus stumbled towards me as the glow clouded my vision.

The air was poisonous and hot. I forced my legs to take me back towards that first door, further in through the spiralling, dancing smoke. The floor was almost entirely alight due to the treacherous littering of fizzling debris. I clambered over the carnage, shaking violently with each erupting cough, until I saw him. Sam was flopped against the radiator. I was too late. He wasn’t moving, the flames flickering against his jeans, my body recognising the pungent smell of burning flesh.

I felt myself scream as I dived for him, slamming my hands into his face.

“Sam!”

His head lolled to the side, his eyes open, mouth gaping. New flames hurtled towards me as the door shut in the direction I’d come from. I stumbled back over the floor, pounding my fists against it, screaming.

I was trapped.

Swerving frantically, I spotted a break in the devastation behind Sam: a small bathroom that hadn’t yet been consumed. I scrambled over the wreckage before I fell, crawling, dragging my knees. Coughs ripped my lungs and stung my throat as my breaths came slower. My airway was closing inch by inch; with each intake of air, there was even less space.

I made it to the small grey room with half a breath left, feeling the chemicals released by the fire filling my bloodstream and marring my thoughts, my body as polluted as the air. I gripped Sam’s limp body, leaning back to slide him inside with the last of my strength. His cable tie must have snapped in the heat, because he moved with me.

Forcing the wooden door shut with a kick, I trapped us inside. The rims of the door glowed red as sweat dripped from my hairline. I looked around at the three stalls shrouded in black. The sinks! I stood up to twist the taps, but nothing came out and my hand flew back as the metal burnt my skin. Even the window was glowing as the glass cracked.

My chest moved up and down, in and out, more and more shallow, less and less movement. I felt the hot, hard floor against my cheek as a wave of quiet dizziness took the world from me slowly. Darkness spilled across my vision, the cracking and crashing fading into silence. I heard my lungs gasp a short breath, then nothing. This was truly it. Derek was out, I’d tried to save Sam. I’d tried, but I had no more to give. The fire was too hot, the smoke too thick. I was exhausted.

I could just… slip away.

My eyes fluttered open as I looked down at my feet. Curled up at an awkward angle, I saw Chantelle. Sad and broken. Alone again. Ivy had been a desperate dream – an indulgent delusion.

White light spilled from the corners of the door, growing brighter until it filled the space. A glowing figure appeared, an ethereal hand reaching out, the figure calling to me as my mind melted away.