A Note of Madness (27 page)

‘You
told
her.’ Flynn turned round slowly, back pressed against the window pane. ‘You went and told her that I’d fancied her for ages, and she felt sorry for me, with my illness and stuff, and so she kissed me, out of pity—’

‘Out of pity?’ Harry groaned and clutched at his curls and bent over, as if getting ready to pull his own head off. ‘Oh my God, I can’t take any more of this. You really are completely and utterly out of your mind!’

‘OK.’ Flynn sobered suddenly. ‘What then?’ His voice dropped, and he leaned against the windowsill for support.

Harry straightened up slowly, his damp hair sticking up comically, and took a deep breath. ‘I don’t really know how many ways there are to say this, Flynn,’ he began, ‘but Jennah’s crazy about you. You’re the reason she broke up with Charlie. Everyone knows it. People at uni call her the smitten kitten. When you’re not around, you’re all she talks about.’

Flynn stared at him. ‘But—’ he protested weakly.

Harry held up his hand. ‘No, listen! I never even
hinted
that you used to fancy her. And, believe me, after the way you reacted to her kiss in the pub, that’s the last thing she suspects!’

Flynn stared down at the threadbare carpet. The television continued to flicker. A car drove by in the street below. A long silence passed.

‘Oh, fuck,’ Flynn said in a whisper.

‘Yes, yes, I completely agree.’ Harry flung himself onto the sofa, rolling his eyes dramatically. ‘For the last two weeks she’s been trying to patch things up with you, and now she thinks she’s not only made a fool of herself, but gone and lost you as a friend as well.’

A door slammed somewhere below, making Flynn jump. ‘Shit. Oh, shit, I’ve got to find her—’ He crashed into the hall and shoved on his shoes.

‘Wait, we still don’t know where she is!’

Flynn shoved him off. ‘I’m going to find her! She’s got to be out there somewhere! I’ll find her!’

Flynn raced down the stairs and burst out into the street. The orange glow of the streetlamps was reflected on the slick, wet pavement; the parked cars and black railings glistened. The rain was falling thick and steady – within seconds his T-shirt was stuck to his skin. The bottoms of his jeans soon clung wetly to his calves and by the time he had reached the main road he could feel the damp seeping into his socks and pants. He ran through the next set of lights and splashed his way through two enormous puddles that took up half the road. He almost lost his footing on the slimy pavement and, on one corner, bumped hard into a woman who shrieked. He was hooted at by a night bus as he sprinted blindly across the road before heading down towards Notting Hill Gate. He had no idea where he was going. All he knew was that he needed to get through as many streets in as little time as possible.

It was difficult to grasp the enormity of what Harry had said. There had been no grin, no snort of laughter, no sudden confession that it had all been some kind of hoax. Harry had been serious. The kiss had been serious. Jennah had broken up with Charlie before she even knew Flynn was ill. That couldn’t have been out of pity . . . He had to find Jennah. He could hardly imagine what she must be feeling right now – angry, hurt, humiliated, betrayed?

It was so late now. Where the hell could she be? If she’d gone to a friend’s then she’d have called home. It didn’t make sense. She always had her mobile on her. Unless – unless something had happened . . . Unless she had been attacked. Girls went missing all the time, only to be found in woodland weeks later, raped and murdered. The thought of that happening to Jennah made his mouth fill with bile and a sob tore at his throat. He would carry on running till he found her. He would find her, he would.

It was increasingly hard to see. Two dark red blotches pulsated in front of his eyes. A sharp stabbing pain started in his chest and it hurt to breathe. At one point, he skidded to a halt, thinking he could see a great river lapping at the pavement ahead of him. But it was just his imagination; the wavelets were made out of concrete, and he ran across the river to the other side. He bit his tongue against the pain in his chest and tasted blood. The only sound was the drum of his heartbeat and his great, rasping breaths. He kept thinking he was going to
have to stop, kept thinking there was no way he was going to be able to run at this pace for another second, but then he made it to the corner of another street and he told himself one more, just one more . . .

Sometime later he was sick. Tipped forwards onto his hands and knees and threw up on the pavement. He couldn’t run again after that. It was an excruciating effort just to get back onto his feet. He couldn’t breathe fast enough and his throat was making these weird heaving noises. He was walking like a drunk, zigzagging across the puddles. He slipped on some wet leaves and the pavement came up to slap him. He staggered back to his feet again, his body pulsating with pain. He kept thinking he could see a bench ahead but, when he got closer, it turned out to be nothing more than a shadow between the trees. His whole body screamed at him to lie down, but he thought of Jennah and kept on going . . .

After a while he realized that he had come full circle. He was back on Bayswater Road. He couldn’t even remember which way he’d been . . . It was an effort just to stay on his feet. And somewhere he was aware of a voice, a voice that kept saying his name, somewhere to his left, somewhere from the car that was crawling along the side of the road. There was a kind of static in the air and he was afraid he was imagining things again. But the voice kept on and on.

‘Flynn, get in the car, just get in the car—’

He allowed himself to turn his head and saw Rami, head stuck out of his car window, arm outstretched, crawling along beside him. He wanted to collapse with relief and stopped, the ground tilting in every direction.

Rami jumped out of the car and grabbed him. ‘Come on, I’ve got you. Get in, get in!’

He felt as if he were floating. His body seemed weightless as he collapsed into the front seat. Rami got back behind the wheel and pulled Flynn’s seatbelt across him.

The air inside the car was warm and steamy. Rami had turned the heating up high but within seconds the windows had fogged up and Rami was leaning forwards in an effort to see through the windscreen. As the car glided effortlessly through the wet streets, Flynn was aware of his brother muttering to himself. ‘Jesus Christ, here we go again . . .’

By the time the gasping noises had stopped, they were in Watford. The rain was still falling as Flynn stumbled out of the car. It took Rami a moment to find his keys and by the time they stepped into the warm, bright entrance hall Flynn was shivering so violently it felt as if a giant hand was rattling him by the neck. Suddenly there was the sofa and towels and hot-water bottles and more towels and a hot drink that he sloshed all over the carpet. Sophie and Rami’s voices talking loudly, then more softly, then whispering, then louder again. Clothes being dragged off, dry clothes being shoved on, a
hairdryer burning his ears, bleeding grazes down his arms, Sophie brandishing cotton wool, and voices, voices, voices, and the telephone ringing. Coughing, coughing, coughing. And finally a strange feeling – a tingling, a prickling, soft dry clothes against his skin, a glowing feeling surrounding him . . . Warmth.

5:17 a.m. He wondered where those luminous digits were coming from. Too small to be his alarm and the wrong colour too – blue instead of green. He turned his head on the pillow towards another light and saw a crack in the door, a yellow glow seeping in from the hallway outside. He stretched out and his foot hit the arm of the sofa. He had fallen asleep on Rami’s living-room couch and there seemed to be a weight on top of him . . .

Groggily, he struggled to sit up and beat back the covers – one, two, three layers covering him. He pushed the blankets to the floor and spent a few seconds fumbling about in the dark for the lamp. He yawned, blinking blearily and looking down with surprise at the UCL tracksuit and thick socks he was now wearing. Then his grazed arms began to throb and he remembered Jennah.

He knew exactly where the car keys were – in the pocket of Rami’s jacket. But Rami’s jacket was not on its usual peg by the front door. Nor was it slung over the back of one of the kitchen chairs. After wasting a good five
minutes wandering aimlessly back and forth between the living room and kitchen, Flynn realized the jacket had to be in Rami’s bedroom.

The stupid door creaked, which wasn’t a good start. Then the light from the landing fell directly over Rami’s gently snoring face. Flynn darted over to what looked like a pile of clothes by the window and banged his toes against the foot of the bed. A small sound escaped him. Rami began to stir. Flynn crouched down, gripping his bruised toes. Then he straightened up slowly and began to go through Rami’s pockets.

‘Oh Jesus, Flynn, what now?’

Flynn span round. Rami was propped up on his elbows, looking straight at him.

‘I need the keys!’ Flynn whispered urgently.

‘What keys?’ Rami hissed, reaching for his T-shirt. ‘Come on, let’s get out of here before we wake Soph.’

Downstairs, Rami put the kettle on. Flynn paced the floor, biting his nails.

‘I really need to borrow your car, Rami. I’ll be careful, I promise. I’ll bring it back before tonight but you’ve got to lend it to me—’

‘Flynn, there’s no way I’m lending you my car at this time in the morning, especially after the state I found you in. And I’m not too impressed that you were going to take the keys and help yourself to it, either.’

‘You don’t understand – it’s an emergency!’

‘I spoke to Harry. I know about Jennah. But you are
not going to be able to find her by combing the streets in the car any more than you were going to find her by running through the streets in the dark. Christ, Flynn, what were you thinking? You could have—’

‘But
you
found me, didn’t you?’

‘Only because Harry told me you were running around Bayswater like a maniac!’ Rami looked angry. ‘Look, I’m sure Jennah’s got a lot more sense than you and won’t have been walking the streets all night. She’s most likely just gone to stay with a friend and forgotten to tell her mother.’

Flynn ran his hands through his hair in desperation, a dreadful wave of panic rising in his stomach. ‘Rami, you’ve got to believe me. She’s been missing for nearly twelve hours. Something bad has happened to her, I know it has, I know it has. I
know
Jennah, she’s my best friend – at – at least she used to be – and I know she wouldn’t stay out all night just for fun. Something’s happened to her. I want to find her, I’ve got to find to her, Rami,
please
!’ He hated the frantic, imploring tone of his voice but couldn’t manage anything else.

‘I’m not lending you the car, Flynn, and that’s that.’ Rami filled the mugs with hot water, and Flynn knew by his tone that he meant it. A crushing wave of guilt and helplessness washed over him.

‘Damn it, Rami, you’ve got to help me! It was all my fault! Everything was my fault! I wouldn’t talk to her for two weeks and she kept on trying and I kept on ignoring her and then she got upset and came round to talk to
me and I yelled at her. Rami, I yelled at her! I told her to leave me alone and to go away and that I didn’t want to talk to her and then she started to cry and I didn’t even go after her—’

‘Look, stop shouting and calm down. Sit down for a minute.’

Flynn threw himself furiously onto a chair and bit his thumb to fight back the rising tears. Rami placed a mug beside him and joined him at the kitchen table.

‘I was horrible to her!’ Flynn burst out. ‘I was really horrible to her and – and now she’s disappeared and – and it’s all my fault!’ He clenched his teeth until his jaw hurt.

Rami wrapped his hands around his mug and leaned forwards. ‘Listen. It’s not your fault that Jennah’s disappeared for a while. Yes, it sounds like you didn’t handle the situation very well and it probably
was
your fault that you ended up having a row. But that doesn’t mean you’re responsible for her disappearance. If somebody attacked her, which is
really
unlikely, then the attacker is the one to blame. If Jennah has decided to lie low for a while and lick her wounds, which is far more likely, then that’s her decision and her fault for causing her mother and friends to worry. But you didn’t make Jennah disappear.’

Flynn rubbed his fingers up and down his burning cheeks. ‘But don’t you see? It doesn’t matter whose fault this is! She’s missing, that’s all that matters! Something
terrible could have happened!’ He slammed his fist down on the table. ‘I might never see her again!’

There was a silence. Rami stared across the table at him. Flynn pressed his fist to his mouth to muffle his ragged breathing. He mustn’t lose it, he mustn’t start crying – he would never persuade Rami to lend him the car if he did.

But something in Rami’s expression seemed to change. ‘All this stuff between you two started because Jennah kissed you one day in the pub?’

‘How do you know? Yes, yes!’

Rami’s eyes didn’t leave Flynn’s face. He seemed to be thinking hard. ‘Why did that make you so angry?’

‘What? I don’t know! I was just embarrassed. But, Rami, about the car—’

‘Hold on. So because you were embarrassed, you started ignoring her. And she got upset and came over wanting to go back to being friends . . .’

‘Yes! But that’s not the point! The point is—’

‘And her asking whether you could just be friends made you so angry that you started yelling . . .’

‘Yes, I told you! So can I just borrow—?’

‘Flynn, do you fancy Jennah?’

Flynn stared at him. ‘What? What are you talking about? She could be anywhere! She could be dead and you’re talking about—’

‘Why don’t you answer the question?’

‘Because I’m not – I don’t—’

‘Think about it for a second.’

Flynn felt the blood pound in his face. ‘I don’t want to talk about this!’

The flicker of a smile passed over Rami’s face. ‘Tough luck, I do.’

Flynn scraped his chair back. ‘What are you talking about?’ he shouted. ‘All I want to do is borrow your car! I ask you for one tiny little thing—’