‘It’s your conch,’ I said as she took in the tiny gold pendant. ‘I found it in a drawer.’
She peered into the box and smiled sadly before taking it and closing the lid. We ate the rest of our meal in silence.
‘I think it’s time for me to go,’ I said.
She nodded. ‘I’ll run you home.’
Grace pulled up outside what had been our house. I looked at her face and was shocked by how unfamiliar she had become, and how quickly.
‘I can come in for a coffee,’ she said, looking at her watch, ‘but only for fifteen minutes or so.’
‘No need,’ I said and got out of the car. I walked up to the front door and put a key into the lock. I looked round to watch her leave but then stopped. She’d switched off the ignition and was now climbing out of the car.
‘I can stay for longer,’ she said evenly, walking towards me.
‘It’s okay,’ I said. ‘There’s no need.’ I removed the key from the lock and waited for her to leave.
‘Well, I’m coming in anyway,’ she said. ‘Just for a minute.’
I sighed then and put the keys away into my pocket. ‘You can’t come in. I can’t even go in. I’ve given the place up.’
Her mouth dropped into a small O. ‘Why didn’t you say?’
I shrugged.
‘Well, get back in then,’ she said, indicating the car. ‘I’ll take you to your new place.’ She was halfway to the car before she realised I wasn’t following.
‘There is no new place,’ I said.
‘What then? Where are you staying?’
‘Seb and Nina’s,’ I said, lying.
Grace took a step towards me, hooking a stray golden curl over her ear. ‘Nina never said.’
I shrugged again. ‘Maybe she doesn’t know yet.’
‘You mean you haven’t moved in yet? Where have you been staying?’
I walked towards the car and opened the driver’s door for her to get in. ‘Here and there. Don’t worry. I’m not as fragile as you think,’ I said, and shut her in with a soft thud. She looked dolefully at me through the glass and then wound down the window.
‘I know,’ she said. ‘It’s me. I’m too fragile, I think. To help.’
‘But if you knew that just seeing you, what it does for me,’ I said before stopping myself. ‘Forget I said that.’
She shivered in the damp air and then fussed around her collar for a minute. I saw the shell there glinting under her chin.
The window rose smoothly up and then, with a small smile, she drove away.
That was almost the last time I saw her, I think. We met in the street once. And then, that was it.
I have to walk. I have to walk my thoughts into the pavement. Grind them into the concrete and stub them out. When I focus my eyes again, I see that I am at the library. I look up at the building. It is a cathedral. I begin to walk around it. Each step I take feeds a stream of invasive thoughts into the ground. I can feel myself shedding them as I circumambulate the building, until dozens or more circuits later, I am nothing but a pilgrim.
Me on one side and the universe once again on the other. In perfect balance.
25
Monday
By the time I walk inside the library, the day has begun to cool. I shiver and make straight for the armchairs.
I shut my eyes to summon the memory of that room, and before long I am there again, the flames licking long shadows on to the walls. I am on the floor, squinting at the scene at the far end of the room, and she is there, bent backwards over the table. There’s something about this scene that I’m missing. My head knows it but my heart stalls each time it draws near. What is it? The music drifts in waves over me.
For a second, I fall asleep and I have the sensation of remembering something important. I am caught between sleep and wakefulness and in that twilight some memory has hardened but just as soon as I wake, it evaporates.
‘Xander.’
My eyes open and I see a face that I know. Long black hair hanging down over brown eyes. The smile is soft.
I take a moment to put the world the right way up.
‘Amit,’ I say.
‘Xander. Where have you been?’ he asks with concern. ‘I was, I don’t know, worried about you? Looked for you a bit on the streets.’
‘Worried why?’ I say, sitting up.
‘Just,’ he says and then after a pause, ‘you didn’t seem right. Like you’d forgotten – stuff. I asked some guys about you. They told me I should stay away from you.’
‘Oh,’ I say, touched. ‘Just had a bit of concussion. But you shouldn’t go looking for me, Amit. It’s not safe.’
‘You’re telling me,’ he says with a grin.
I think about why I am here. ‘You couldn’t help me out, could you?’ I say conspiratorially.
‘Of course, Xander. I’ll never forget, you know. What you did.’
I stare at him in confusion and then in a panic because of what that means for my head.
‘When I was being robbed. By those lads?’ he says.
And now, with that nudge, the memory comes back. It wasn’t far from here, just around the back of this library. I remember seeing two young men – early twenties, maybe a bit older – bothering a schoolkid I had seen earlier in the magazine section. When I got near it was obvious that they were mugging him.
‘Oi, you, piss off,’ I had said, walking up to them. They were skinny, more mouth than muscle.
They turned and one instantly shoved a knife in my direction. I took a quick look and saw that he was holding it like you would hold a wand, with the blade pointing down. I slapped his hand away and watched the knife fly into the road.
‘You’re fucking dead,’ he said and started to hit me in the face and body. The punches stung but I could feel the pain was soft. Even as I put my hands up, all I could think was they hurt, but not as much as the one I’m about to hit him with. And then I squeezed my fist tight, drew my arm back and punched him hard. His face burst like a plum and he went down. The other one looked at me for a second, took in my size, and then ran.
‘Oh, that? Anyone would have done the same,’ I say.
He pulls a wallet from his blazer pocket. ‘No way would they.’
‘No, not money,’ I say, waving it away. ‘I need to find someone.’
‘Okay,’ he says, stretching the word. He smooths his school uniform after returning his wallet to his blazer pocket. Everything is neat on him. The tie is tightly tied, the blazer looks as if it has been brushed. Only his hair is free, long, tousled.
‘How do I find a person? On that?’ I say, taking him to the computers off to the left.
He looks at me as if I have gone mad. I haven’t used a computer since I used to code. Of course, I’ve seen them, but I don’t know how to use them without drawing attention to myself. I don’t want a librarian fussing around me with passcodes or whatever I need to access the web.
‘I need to access the World Wide Web.’
‘You mean Google?’ he says.
Of course, Google. ‘Can you just show me the basics?’ I say.
‘I can get you to their homepage,’ he says and then sits at one of the screens and types quickly on the keys. Within a couple of seconds, the computer has shifted to a white page. Under the Google name is the search box.
‘Christ, that was quick,’ I say. ‘Is the modem always connected?’