Black Rabbit Summer (12 page)

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Authors: Kevin Brooks

BOOK: Black Rabbit Summer
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I was still looking around as I walked, still keeping my eyes open for Raymond, and as I passed a little burger kiosk, about ten metres away from the tent, I thought for a moment I’d found him. A bunch of kids in front of me were making a lot of noise and shoving each other around, and as one of them dived to one side and barged another one into a passing group of girls – causing a gap to appear in the crowds – I caught a quick glimpse of a sad-looking face up ahead… a face that I knew. I realized almost immediately that it
wasn’t
Raymond, and even as I started moving to one side to get a better look, I already knew who I was going to see.

It was Pauly.

He was sitting on a bench over to my left, just a few metres away. The bench was set back in a little gap between the burger kiosk and a row of litter-filled oil drums, and Pauly was just sitting there, all on his own, staring straight ahead.

I don’t know what made me do it, but instead of just going up to him, I found myself edging round the back of the burger kiosk and watching him from the shadows. Physically, he didn’t look anything
like
Raymond, and despite my guilt-fuelled desperation to see Raymond’s face, it was hard to believe that I’d mistaken Pauly for him, even if it had been only for a moment. But as I stood there watching Pauly now, I began to see things in him that I hadn’t really seen before – a lostness, a loneliness, a darkness – and I realized that maybe he wasn’t that different from Raymond after all.

He hadn’t moved since I’d been watching him – he was still just sitting there, slightly hunched over, and he was still just staring straight ahead, peering intently through the passing crowds at something on the other side of the walkway. I leaned to one side and followed his gaze, trying to see what he was looking at. It was hard to focus on anything at first – the streams of people
kept getting in the way – but after I’d been staring for a while, my eyes got used to looking through the spaces in the crowds, and I began to see things quite clearly.

Between the far end of the Portaloos on the right, and three parked fairground lorries on the left, there was a ragged square of shadowed ground. Another lorry blocked the back of the square, and behind it I could just make out the railings of the recreation ground and the dimly lit street beyond. Generators were chugging away at the back of the lorries, their thick black cables snaking out in all directions, and the trampled ground was littered with empty beer cans and burger boxes. The square was relatively dark – the high-sided lorries shading it from the lights of the nearest rides – but there was still enough residual light to make out the faces of the figures hanging around in the shadows. Most of them were just faces, the kinds of faces you’d expect to see in a nowhere place – hard and empty, hooded, drunk. They weren’t doing much, just the usual slouching around, watching and waiting, hoping for something to happen. Just off to one side, though, standing with their backs to one of the lorries, there were two figures I
didn’t
expect to see.

Eric Leigh and Wes Campbell.

That’s who Pauly was watching – Eric Leigh and Wes Campbell.

I looked back at Pauly for a moment, wondering what the hell was going on, then I turned my attention back to Eric and Campbell. Although they looked quite comfortable with each other – standing side by side, talking quietly, their shoulders occasionally touching, their heads occasionally nodding – they both seemed kind of anxious about something. Their eyes kept flicking around, especially Eric’s, and it was pretty obvious he’d rather be somewhere else. As I carried on watching them, I realized that their attention was fixed on something, or someone,
in the darkness at the back of the Portaloos, and I thought for a moment that it might be Raymond. Maybe he was hurt or something… maybe he’d come out of the Portaloos and something had happened to him, he’d got beaten up or something, and now he was lying in the darkness at the back of the Portaloos…?

But I quickly dismissed that idea. Even though Eric had never really cared too much about Raymond, I was still pretty sure that he wouldn’t just stand there doing nothing if he knew that Raymond was hurt.

No
, I told myself,
even Eric wouldn’t do that.

I still carried on looking, though, scanning the area around the Portaloos, just in case something
had
happened, but there was no sign of anything untoward, no evidence of anyone getting beaten up… and definitely no Raymond. I saw some of the people I’d seen with Stella earlier on – a few of her hangers-on, the guy with the camera, one of her security men – and I watched them for a while, but they didn’t seem to be doing anything. They were just hanging around, trying to look cool – which wasn’t that easy in front of a row of Portaloos. I couldn’t see Stella anywhere, so I guessed she wasn’t with them any more… and even if she had been, I was pretty sure that Raymond wouldn’t have hooked up with her again.

Or maybe he would…?

Christ, I didn’t know
what
to think.

I shook my head – sick of myself for not knowing what I was doing – then I went over and sat down beside Pauly.

It took him a second to realize who I was, and as soon as he did, his face suddenly changed. The sadness disappeared, the loneliness left him, and he was back to his old grinning self.

‘Hey, Pete… you all right?’

His eyes seemed blurred for a moment, and I wondered briefly if they were trying to catch up with the rest of his face, trying to fit in with the mask…

‘What’s the matter?’ he said, rubbing his eyes and frowning at me. ‘What are you looking at?’

‘Nothing…’ I looked away from him, shaking my head again, forcing myself to concentrate. ‘Listen, Pauly,’ I said. ‘Have you seen Raymond?’

‘Yeah,’ he grinned, ‘he’s a funny-looking kid with a big head –’

‘Have you
seen
him?’ I repeated.

‘Why? Have you lost him?’

I stared hard at Pauly, trying to show him that I knew what he was beneath his mask, that he didn’t
have
to keep being Pauly all the time. I don’t know if it made any difference, but at least he stopped grinning.

‘The last time I saw Raymond,’ he sighed, ‘he was with Stella Ross.’ He smiled faintly. ‘She was parading him around like he was her pet monkey or something.’

‘You haven’t seen him since?’

‘No.’

‘You sure?’

‘Yeah, I’m
sure
…’

He took a bottle of Vodka Reef from his pocket. It was already opened, but the cap had been jammed back on again. As he flicked off the cap and took a quick drink, I saw him glance over at Eric and Campbell. He tried to make out that he was just looking around, not looking at anything in particular, but he didn’t do a very good job of it.

‘Are they still there?’ I asked him.

‘Who?’

‘Eric and Campbell.’

He looked at me, and for a fraction of a second I could see the confusion in his eyes as he tried to decide how to react. He knew that I’d seen them now, but he didn’t know if I’d seen him watching them or not. ‘Yeah…’ he said hesitantly, nodding his head and trying to grin. ‘Yeah… I thought it was them.’ He glanced casually at the square again, pretending to be mildly interested. ‘Yeah… yeah, they’re still there.’ He offered me the Vodka Reef. ‘You want some?’

The night was still warm and sticky, and after all the throwing up and everything else I’d just done, I was feeling pretty thirsty and dry. My throat felt horrible too – sour and stale with the taste of puke.

‘Have you got any water?’ I asked Pauly.

He laughed.

I nodded at the bottle in his hand. ‘What’s in it?’

He glanced at the label. ‘I don’t know… vodka, orange, something else. You want it or not?’

I took the bottle from his hand and drank deeply. It was slightly fizzy, slightly orangey, but mostly just vodka-ey. It didn’t make me feel any better.

‘What are they doing over there?’ I asked Pauly.

‘Who?’

‘Eric and Campbell.’

He shrugged. ‘I don’t know.’

‘Are they friends or something?’

He shrugged again.

I looked at him. ‘I thought you were
in
with Campbell?’

‘So?’

‘So how come you don’t know what he’s doing with Eric?’

‘Why should I?’

‘They’re both friends of yours, aren’t they? I mean, you know Eric, you know Campbell –’

‘I know lots of people. Just because I know them doesn’t mean I know what they’re doing all the time.’ He grinned at me. ‘Do you know what everyone
you
know is doing all the time?’

‘That’s different –’

‘Do you know what Nic’s doing right now? And what about Raymond? Shit, you don’t even know where your Bunny Boy
is
, do you?’ He laughed. ‘I thought you were really
concerned
about him anyway.’

I glared at Pauly, wanting to smash the bottle into his face, wanting to wipe that idiotic grin off his face… but I knew he was right. I’d forgotten what I was supposed to be doing. I shook my head in self-disgust. What the hell was the
matter
with me? Why couldn’t I do anything right? Why couldn’t I do
anything
?

Even as I was trying to think about it, and I saw Pauly suddenly get up from the bench and start hurrying across the walkway, I still couldn’t seem to do anything. All I could do was sit there and watch him as he threaded his way through the crowds, heading for the spot where Eric and Campbell had been…

But they weren’t there any more.

And when I looked back to see where Pauly was, I couldn’t see him anywhere either. He’d gone, disappeared, melted away into the crowds…

Just like everyone else.

I felt so bad then, so dumb and dazed and overloaded… everything I felt was too much. I was too heavy to stand up. Too tired to do anything. The bottle of Vodka Reef in my hand was too cold and too glassy, and it looked too orangey not to drink. I knew I shouldn’t drink it, that it wouldn’t do me any good, but I
didn’t seem to have any choice. The bottle just lifted itself to my mouth, tipped itself up, and the next thing I knew it was empty.

I carefully put it down.

Burped sweetly.

And closed my eyes.

Nine

Do you know what it’s like when your head keeps roaring and whirling and spinning, around and around and around, and you feel so sick that you think your body’s going to turn itself inside out, and it hurts so much that you wish you’d never been born?

Do you know what that’s like?

It’s like the end of the world, only worse.

The end of the world that never ends.

It’s shitness, sickness, guilt, regret… an inner pain that kills you for ever, a pain that’s always been there, and will always be there, whether you’re dead or alive or anything in between.

That’s what it’s like.

And that’s pretty much what it was like for me for the rest of that night.

I didn’t know if it was just the drink that was screwing me up – the tequila, the vodka, whatever else I’d had – or if it was something else. The weirdness of the night, the heat, the noise, the lights… or maybe it was just me. Maybe I was losing it, cracking up, going mad. I really didn’t know. But whatever it was, it didn’t really matter, because there wasn’t anything I could do about it anyway. All I could do was keep going.

So that’s what I did.

After I’d finally managed to heave myself up off the bench and get moving, I just kept going – walking, stumbling, searching all over the fairground, trying to find Raymond. I didn’t have much sense of the time, and although I kept looking at the clock on my mobile, I also kept forgetting what it said, so I don’t really know how much time I spent wandering around the fair. It felt like a couple of hours or so, but I’m really only guessing.

It was all too vague.

I was trying to be rational in the way that I searched, trying to follow some kind of plan, but the layout of the fairground didn’t seem to have any plan. Everything was just all over the place. There was nothing to guide me, no sense of direction, and no matter how hard I tried to follow a route, I just couldn’t do it. All I could do was keep going, keep wandering, keep looking, and keep hoping.

I looked everywhere.

Every walkway, every ride, every stall. The gaps between the rides. Around the backs of the rides. The dodgems, the waltzer, behind the Portaloos. The burger kiosks, the twisters, the roller coaster…

Nothing.

The fortune-teller’s tent was all closed up. The deserted spot near the children’s rides was still deserted…

Nothing.

No Raymond.

No sign of him anywhere.

I didn’t come across Pauly either. No Pauly, no Eric, no Campbell, no Stella. The only familiar face I saw was a very quick – and very dazed – glimpse of Nicole.

I was heading down a walkway at the far edge of the fair, in between the roller coaster and the place where all the fairground vehicles were parked, when I saw Nicole and the waltzer guy coming towards me. He had his arm round her shoulder, and they both looked pretty unsteady, staggering and weaving all over the place as they walked. The waltzer guy seemed happy enough in his drunkenness, all loopy smiles and rolling eyes, but it was hard to tell how Nic was feeling. Even if I hadn’t been so out of it myself, I still don’t think I would have known what to make of her. She was smiling, but her eyes were dead. She was holding on tight to the waltzer guy, but at the same time she looked as if she couldn’t bear touching him. And as they both approached me, she looked right into my eyes, but she didn’t seem to recognize me.

‘Hey, Nic,’ I said, stepping in front of her. ‘Have you seen Raymond anywhere? I’ve been looking all over the place… Nic? Nicole?’

She didn’t answer me. I don’t think she even heard me. And before I had a chance to say anything else, the two of them had veered off the walkway and were stumbling off into the darkness towards the fairground vehicles.

I didn’t carry on looking for much longer after that. It was getting pretty late by then. The crowds were beginning to thin out, some of the rides were closing, and I’d just about had enough. I must have walked round that fairground at least a dozen times, and I couldn’t see any point in walking round it any more. I’d already looked everywhere. There wasn’t anywhere else to look. What more could I do?

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