“You can let go of me,” I said. “I’m not going anywhere – I can’t, I’ve hurt my foot.”
The policewoman gave me a doubtful look. But she let me sit down on the stairs.
“Your friend isn’t going anywhere either. At least, she’ll have to stop when she gets to the top. Now which one are you – Emily Smith or Emily Smith?”
I said nothing, and she sighed.
“Look, you may not believe this, but we’re on your side. We know you’re not criminals. But you are a bit young to be wandering around London on your own, aren’t you?”
I nodded. Actually I was quite relieved to be caught. No more running, no more hiding… But what about Emily? A policeman had followed her up the stairs. Had he caught up with her yet?
“What will happen now? Will we have to go home?”
“Is that so terrible?”
“Not for me. But it is for Emily.”
“I’m not allowed to say.”
There was a sudden crackle from the radio she wore. A voice said something urgent that I couldn’t understand.
“What’s the matter?” But she was listening and didn’t answer me.
“What is it? Is it Emily?”
She said, “Your friend Emily has got out on the roof. She’s threatening to jump. Is it likely that she means it?”
Horrified, I whispered, “I don’t know. She did say – she did say she was never going home…”
***
It was cold up there. A chill wind blew in through the open doorway at the top of the stairs.
I was gasping as if I’d just climbed Everest without oxygen. The policewoman had half-helped, half-carried me all the way up. As we neared Floor 11, I remembered Emily’s Aunt Gina. We stopped while the policewoman talked on the radio to somebody on the ground.
“If she comes back, they’ll send her up here. Will Emily listen to her, do you think?”
“I don’t know.” I didn’t know if she would listen to me, either.
Far below I heard the wail of an ambulance. “Just a precaution,” said the policewoman, but she hurried me on.
The policeman who had followed Emily was at the top of the stairs, looking out at the roof. “She’s still there. Says she’ll jump if we go any closer.”
“How did she get out?”
He pointed to a broken padlock that swung from the door. It looked as if it had been vandalised ages ago.
“Right, kid. We’ve got help coming but it won’t get here straight away. Think you can help us talk her away from the edge?”
I looked out. The roof was as flat as a table top, with only a waist-high rail around the edge. All the lights of London were spread out below: red lights on other tall buildings; moving lights in the streets far below; a dark strip that must be the river; and another dark shadow in the shape of a person.
She was right by the rail. Her face was turned towards us. She looked like a hunted fox with nowhere else to run.
“Emily. Are you OK?” What an idiotic question, I thought as soon as I said it.
“I’m not going back!” she shouted. “Never! I’d rather be dead!”
“Maybe you won’t have to.” I tried to sound calm, soothing. “Maybe you could stay with your aunt. Why don’t you come and talk to her?”
“Where is she? Let me see her.”
“Not here yet. But they’ll bring her up here as soon as she gets back.”
Behind me I could hear the policewoman talking on her radio. I looked at her questioningly. She shook her head.
Surely Aunt Gina must come back soon. The pubs must be shut by now. Then I imagined her going to a friend’s after work and not coming home at all. She would read in tomorrow’s paper about the death of a girl called Emily Smith, and think, “How sad. Same name as my niece, too.”
Oh God, please help me. You did it before; please do it again. Just one more time. Help me! Tell me the right things to say!
My mind was empty. At random I said, “Emily, I wish you’d move away from the edge a bit. You’re making me nervous – I hate heights.”
After a moment she did move, grudgingly, a couple of steps away from the railing. But she was still close enough to be over it in two seconds if anyone threatened her.
The cold wind blew across the roof, straight from Siberia. Emily hugged her arms to her chest. No jacket – she must be freezing.
“Can I lend her my jacket?”
“OK. You’re not going out there, though. I’ll throw it.”
“Want my jacket, Emily? Here it comes.”
The policeman threw it, but it landed short, lying in a heap a few paces away from her. I felt him grow tense, judging the distance… “Don’t risk it!” I muttered. “She’s very quick. You wouldn’t have time.”
Nobody moved. Then all of a sudden, swift as a bird after food, she darted in, snatched the jacket and was off again.
“Thanks, Denise!” she called.
I said, “Listen, you are not to jump wearing that jacket, it’s new. My mum will kill you if you mess it up.”
Suddenly I remembered that awful day in the mine. It was repeating itself in a weird kind of way, but we had changed places. And we were high up, not deep down. One thing hadn’t altered, though… the fear, as sharp as a knife.
Remember, always remember: from beyond the east to the furthest west, from the heights to the depths… He will be there to lead me; he will be there to help me.
***
Meanwhile, I had half-noticed the policewoman still using her radio. Now she beckoned me further inside the doorway.
“Why is she afraid to go home? Is it her father she’s scared of?”
“I— I can’t tell you. I promised…”
“Well then, tell me this. We think her dad’s done a runner. Should we tell her or not?”
“Done a runner? I don’t understand… How do you know?”
She said patiently, “I got my boss to ring the police in… where is it again? Caston? Right. The Caston police wanted to interview Mr Smith – ask him some questions about Emily. But they couldn’t find him. He wasn’t at work or at home. He hadn’t visited his wife in hospital. His car had gone.”
“Oh. But are you – are you sure he won’t come back?”
“We don’t know.”
“He might be anywhere. He might have come to London to look for Emily.” But somehow I didn’t think that was likely. Wouldn’t he have told someone – asked for time off work? Not just vanished.
If he really had gone, gone for good, then Emily had nothing to be afraid of. But would she believe it? Would she think it was some kind of trick?
“Emily,” I shouted. “Listen – your dad’s gone away, nobody knows where. It’s all right. It’s safe to go home.”
“What?”
“Your dad – he’s gone away. You can go home!”
I wasn’t ready for what happened next. She let out a wild cry. “Denise! You promised! You said you would never tell!” Then she was running to the rail, climbing it…
I charged out of the doorway, shouting something, I don’t know what. Halfway across the roof my ankle gave way beneath me, and I fell sprawling. I lay there, face down, all the breath knocked out of me… scared to look up…
At last I did look up. She was still there, sitting astride the rail.
“I didn’t… didn’t tell…” I gasped. “Only that you didn’t want to go home…”
For a minute she didn’t reply.
“If he’s gone away,” she said slowly, “Mum’s going to blame me. It’ll be all my fault – she’ll hate me. So, what is there to go home for?”
She was trembling. She began to lift herself over the rail.
“No! Stop!” I cried. “You don’t know – she may be glad he’s gone. But if you go too, she’ll be left with nobody – all alone.”
For a long moment she held herself quite still. She was looking down at the million twinkling lights and the darkness that waited to swallow her up.
Oh, please let her listen! Please let her change her mind!
I gabbled, “It isn’t your fault – none of it. It was all his fault. Don’t let him win in the end!”
“No,” she said thoughtfully.
Slowly and carefully, she got down on the inside of the railing. She helped me get up. She seemed quite calm. I felt most peculiar, as if I’d just been underneath a ten-ton truck.
Now the police came out to meet us, a bit cautiously, as if they weren’t quite sure it was all over. I remember the policeman putting his jacket round my shoulders. I was freezing.
“I’m tired,” I said. “Can we go home now?”
Someone else came out of the doorway at the top of the stairs: a tall woman, breathing hard after the long climb. She had the same red hair as Emily.
“Aunt Gina!” Emily cried, and ran into her arms.