A Little Rain (11 page)

My courage finds me and I start to approach, although
I’m not drunk at all my steps feel a little unsteady.  I’m barely ten feet away
when he clocks me. “Hey Missy. Where’s your boyfriend?  You found him yet?”  He
near shouts but I hold my nerve still, even if I am a little unsettled by him
as a whole.

“Yeah,” I say nervously, trying to steady my voice.
“The prick’s gone and left me… I was hoping I could maybe get a cab from here.”
 Lee smiles then stops and turns his attention to a group of drunk singing ladies
that have practically fallen out of the door behind him.  I stand still.  A
little unsure exactly of what I’m supposed to do, still scared and still daring
to hope that Benny and Tobes and Demi might be a part of that crowd that have
now momentarily gathered outside but are now dispersing.  My eyes dart from
face to face expectantly, all the while I’m painfully aware of standing alone.

I stand shivering and move my eyes down to my
burger-splattered boots.   Then I’m aware as someone draws up too close and
fast right in front of me.  To hide my surprise and intimidation, I look up
slowly to meet his eye.  I stare at him solidly.  His icy eyes stare back.

“So, are you still looking for a lift?” he says.  His
tone is more arrogant than I remember. “I’m finished now.  I’ll give you a
ride.”

“Nah.  I’m south London.  It’ll be out of your way,” I
say.  I’m unsure of what he’ll say next.  His answer worries me.

“It’s not out the way.  I’m south London too.  I’ll
take you no probs.”

Now it’s Catch 22.  Dangerous Catch 22.  I say okay
and get in a car with a man I don’t know and possibly get taken home or he
could take me anywhere.  Then maybe equally dangerous, I get left here out in
the night, alone, no money, no cab.  My old theory is I could phone Rob, wake
him, Ruby too.  He’d be angry and would feel he had to come and get me.  I
think though if Ruby’s there he can hardly come out with her at this hour so
maybe I should just get this lift for free.  But nothing good is ever free. 
Damn.  If Lee gives me a lift he’ll want something in return and just an hour
or so after fleetingly fancying him, he now repulses me.

Now he’s been waiting for an answer for a while.  All
the time, he’s been standing right up close.  So I say, “Ok, cool. That’d be
cool, yeah,” as my brain is whirring wildly, lighting up all the big red danger
signs in my mind.  I blot them out.  As he starts to walk away expecting me to
follow, my inner voice says loudly
you’ve gone this far
…
do
something… be prepared... arm yourself
.  I think my poxy set of keys won’t
be any help now so I scour the street.  There’s nothing but cigarette butts and
grime directly by my feet but as I look ahead in the direction we are walking a
pile of rubbish becomes more apparent. 
Perfect
.  I see a brown beer
bottle just ahead resting in the gutter.  I duck and swipe it in a second and
tuck it inside my coat, wedging it deep in my waistband.  I look up to the
stars.
 Thank you
.  Lee briefly turns to look but thankfully does not
see what I have done.  My heartbeat slows a little.  It’s not too comfy walking
with cold sticky glass poking at my hip and now that Lee has speeded up even
less so.  I adjust it carefully, unseen, as if it were to slip and fall and
smash at this point it could spell disaster.

I hear a fast loud
bipp bipp
that makes me look
up.  Amber lights flash a warning ahead.  I see his big red car, flashy and low
set with sparkling alloys.  I almost feel like I’m not good enough to get
inside.  I don’t like it.  My following steps falter a little.  I hang back.  
That nagging non-stop voice saying
it’s not too late to turn back
keeps
repeating over and over in my head, but I don’t listen.

I follow him.  He opens the passenger door.  Standing
by, waiting.  Reluctant, I get in.  He slams it.  Inside the car it’s freezing. 
The leather below me chills me to my bones.  I hold my mouth tight shut, biting
my teeth together to stop them chattering.  It may not only be the cold that’s
making me shake.  Maybe I’m more scared than I even know.  He pulls the door
open on the other side and swings into his seat.  The whole car sinks under his
weight.  Seeing him now sitting, head, shoulders, legs, I realise just how big
he is.  As tall as Rob at least.  His legs are solid with muscle.  His whole
body broad.  The arm I can see is thick as a tree trunk.  His black coat creaks
awkwardly against the cream seat.

He interrupts my silent thoughts by planting a firm
kiss on my lips that tastes and smells of mint.  His lips feel dry, like
sandpaper.  I’m in shock and disgusted too at his abruptness but instead,
stupidly
,
I gauge the silly girly reaction of smiling coyly.  I even
hear myself giggle.  This is not funny.  Perhaps this was not the best
reaction.  I should have just got out the car and run as he then moves his
whole body, shifting his titanic weight over on to me.  His mouth pushes
against my lips again.  His hard poky tongue inside my little shocked mouth
that is still chewing gum.  He’s too heavy for me to be able to move at all so
I feel I have no choice but to go along with this ridiculous charade.

Then he stops, suddenly.  “Right lets go to mine.”  My
plan was then to jump at the chance to make a quick getaway by swinging open my
door and running for my life, but no time to.  He clicks down all the locks
with his elbow before moving his weight off me.  He’s started the car and spins
it round, way too quickly for me to even think about making a break for it. 
Out the door now would be suicide. 
Shit
.  Trust your instincts. 
Too
late now...

It’s not often I’m in a car with a stranger, a
complete unknown.  In fact, it’s never.  This is the first time I’ve ever been
in this situation and so dangerously out of control.  His driving makes me
think he’s a certified maniac.  He even has the front to drive in a loop back
to the club, rolling down the window, tooting his horn to the appreciative
hollers of the people outside, his bouncer mates and a few stragglers hanging
on.

“Where are we going?”  I say quickly, trying to keep
my voice deep and steady even while all my nerves inside me are totally
freaking out, like I’m about to die.  I sound about as sexy as a drain and
hopefully like the hard-faced cow I now want to be.  “I want to go home.”

“We’re going back to mine.  Like I said.”  He says it with
a frightening smile.  I absolutely hate him now.  As I look round the car I get
the urge to stick a knife in the leather or burn it with a cigarette or put
down dirty finger prints, cause as much damage as I can.  At the same time
thinking, clinging to the thought of my advantage, the bottle in my jeans that
would look so good broken over his skull right now.  Red blood trickling down his
face.  It frightens me what this fear could make me do.  I am scared but ready
to kill him if I have to.  But not right now, not yet.  Hold fire, wait.

I sit in silence.  Minutes pass by.  No talking.  I
want out.  I plan my escape.  If only he could see my thought bubbles.  I could
make a break for it at the first set of traffic lights but in these quiet
suburban streets, there now seem to be no lights at all.  I could just attack
him now, outright, but I don’t want to do that really.  Last resort.  I don’t
want to end up getting picked out of a car wreck bit by piece.  I will bide my
time, sit tight.

He’s humming now loudly, unnervingly, to some weird
shouty rock music playing on CD.  I want to tell him to shut up.  The thought
of smashing the bottle into his mouth crosses my mind.  Force feed him some
glass.  I shudder at the thought.  I stare at him hard until he looks back at
me.  “I don’t feel good.”  I don’t lie. “I want to go home.”

“We are going home,” he says.  “Back to mine.”

“No.  I want to go to back my house.”  Back to Rob,
I’m thinking.  But it’s hopeless. He’s not listening.  He’s not even worth
talking too.  I’m wasting breath.  More minutes pass.

Then he says, “We’re at mine now.”

“I’m not getting out.  I want to go home.  I’m not…”
he cuts me off.

“We’re here.” he says jerking the car into a space
outside a nasty looking block of flats.  The whole road doesn’t look too
clever.  I can see the crispy shell of a burnt out car on the pavement up ahead
under a streetlight.  He gets out of the car and walks round to open my door.  The
opportunity to run is not there.  The chance to escape does not come.  He’s
blocking my way and grips my hand tight before I’m even stood up out of the
car, all my fingers squished.  He’s not letting go.  It actually hurts but I’m
not about to struggle.  I’ve made up my mind now what I’m going to do.  My
other hand is free.

As we get closer to the block I know I don’t have long. 
I reach for it.  My free hand touches the cold glass.  My fingers close around
its neck with determined force.  I hurl the bottle over-arm at the nearest
house window.  An almighty crash resonates into an explosion of shattering
splinters.  Distracted, his head turns to look away from me, towards the
noise.  His grip loosens slightly.  I waste no time.  I step onto my left foot
and boot him hard with my right.  My sole’s edge smashes deep into his shin. 
Glass-breaking noises closely followed by his guttural yell.  There is no
time.  I feel like I move in slow motion.

Stop the clock.

In less than second I have turned on my heel.  My feet
hitting the ground.  I just run, faster than I ever have before.  My muscles
burn with pain as I sprint faster still.   I do not look back.  I cannot hear
him behind.  I cannot hear anything as my ears roar with adrenalin chasing
blood.  I turn the corner so fast I slip and fall.  I pick myself up, grazed
hands, wet knees and run on.  The first alley I see I take and run on still. 
Headlights rise behind me.  Face the danger, no, flee the lights.  I take the
next darker alley.  I get a good hundred yards further and my lungs sear with
pain.  I have to stop and breathe.  I almost choke on air.  I spit on the
ground.  My heart is racing.  I hear non-stop bass drum beats loud in my ears. 
I fall forward and gasp.  I feel my hands graze more.  I breathe so deep, so
hard I might be sick, collapse.  I need get it together, think what to do
next.  I slide down the railway fence and on to the wet and dirty floor.

Only as the damp starts to seep through my jeans, and
I cannot hear my breathing anymore, I start to sum up.  Benny’s left me, broke me,
again, but I don’t or do I really care.  Then Lee.  But my soul was saved.  Thank
you, God.

Tobes, Demi.  Well.  Etienne in the meantime I see has
called me again when I pull out my phone from my pocket.  Now is not the time
to call him back.

There is only one person I can call.

“I’m so sorry…  I didn’t mean to wake you...” 
 
and
Ruby, I was about to say but the babble of pubfolk voices I hear talking and the
background music playing tells me he is not at home, “You’re not at home?” I
say.

“No.  Why?  What’s up?”

“Look, sorry, but I need you to come get me.”

“Where are you?”

“I don’t know.  I got stuck.”

“Where?”

“I don’t know where I am.”

“What do you mean you don’t know where you are?” He
says and I go on to tell him the partial truth.  How I rowed with Benny and
that my
friends
left me.  How I had to escape from a
dodgy cab.
 
My voice trembles but I will not cry.  Men like these will never make me cry. 
Rob listens like a cop.  He tells me walk to the nearest street sign, tell him
what it says and wait on the nearest wall.  So I sit quietly, cold, and damp. 
My nose feels shiny and numb, battered by the cold night air.  I think long and
hard about my lucky escape, my own stupidity.  What a fool I am.  This is a
warning.  A message not to be so dumb again.  Ever.

I sit sore and shivering in eerie near silence.  I can
hear the distant rush of unseen cars.  It’s a long and painful, fear-filled
twenty minutes before I start to hear the familiar rumble of a car I know
well.  As it pulls closer, white headlights make the drizzle sparkle.  I’ve
never been so pleased to see it.  I run over, nearly smiling.  “Your boyfriend
and your friends left you?”  Rob says, pushing open the door for me.  I slump
straight into the front seat.  I’m shivering but the car feels heated.  I
inhale deeply, warm leather and the faint smell of beer.  Rob is staring at me
with his mouth slightly open.  He places a gentle palm on my juddering
shoulder, shaking his head.

“Yeah.  I can’t believe it,” is all I can say as my
heart starts beating fast again, reliving its fear.  It hasn’t quite died on me
yet but I feel utterly exhausted.   I breathe in slowly, deeply, counting.  I then
feel a bit more composed.

“Well it was more I left them.  Me and Benny rowed
big-style.”  Rob pushes his bottom lip up towards his nose, but says nothing. 
“We’re over.  He finished with me.”  He blinks and turns his head.

“You let that sorry shit dump you?”   I just nod,
slowly.

I don’t say anything for a time, still, just numb.  “I
was a bitch...” is all I can say.

“Why didn’t you phone me?  I would’ve told you to just
get a cab, stop round the corner and do a runner.  Or we could’ve thought of
something...”

“Yeah, actually...”  I say and think really yes, I
should’ve done.  “But I didn’t.   Did I?  I thought you were at home.  I
thought you’d be asleep and Ruby would be too.  I didn’t want to wake you both
up.  Anyway, I didn’t so too late now, eh?  Anyway, what did happen?  Why
didn’t you see Ruby?”  I say suddenly, as she dances like a sprite across my
mind.  “She’s not at home, obviously.”