I know I should feel ashamed at all the ways I’ve let Fionnoula and Ali down, but it’s like I can’t think straight, can’t get out of my head. I still haven’t spoken to Denz, although he hasn’t stopped calling. My phone was on silent but I couldn’t figure out a way to turn off vibrate, and so I flung it across the room just to shut it up. For hours its mosquito-whine cut through my thoughts but I haven’t heard it in a while. It must be long dead by now.
I need to get out of this room, this box. Need to breathe, to run, to expel my thoughts. The caff has been closed for hours but still I creep downstairs, afraid of bumping into every shadow. I leave through the front door, walking quickly. I’m halfway down the street when I see him there. Denz.
At the sight of me, he picks up his pace. I want to turn, run back inside, but in the same breath I am angry, seething. How dare he hound me like this. Lurking on street corners, trying to catch me out. It’s then that I realize he is not alone.
It takes me a few moments before I recognize the other man’s face. He is taller than Denz, skinnier too. His hair is cut short, a whisper of gray at the temples, and the skin around his eyes creases as he lifts his hand in a half wave.
Y’all right, kid? Lewis says with a hesitant smile.
I steady myself against the wall, dizzy. Yeah, I’m all right.
Been a while.
Yeah.
Lewis looks at me curiously. I only live round the corner. But you already knew that, didn’t you?
I don’t say anything to that, and Denz nods with an air of smugness that makes me want to smack him in the face.
So you remember him now, Neef?
What are you doing here?
Denz holds a plastic orange Sainsbury’s bag toward me. I came in the caff earlier. Been comin in a bit, actually. But your woman in there said you were poorly, so I just wanted to drop off a few bits.
I don’t take the bag, leave it hanging clumsily from his hand. So you’ve been skulking around, waiting for me to show my face?
Denz laughs uncomfortably. Naaaah. No. Actually, it were good timin, he lies. We were…we were round this way and…well, it were a coincidence.
I narrow my eyes, and Denz shifts his weight from one foot to the other.
Listen, Neef. I know it’s a lot, seein me, bringin up all these old memories. But I’ve been worried about you. Since I told you all that stuff about Chrissy.
I snort. Really?
Yeah, he says. And if I didn’t know him better, I’d almost believe him. Yeah, I’ve been worried. And I’m sorry, Neef. About your mum. I am sorry.
I rub my eyes, try to wish him away. It was ages ago, Denz. I don’t want to keep talking about it.
Okay, he says. Okay.
The three of us stand there awkwardly for a minute, before Denz speaks again. I’m not going to keep harassin you, Neef. Jen. If that’s what you’re worried about. But I just…I wanted to ask you, one more time, if you’d thought any more, if you had any idea about…
I look up at him, the phone call with Sandra playing on my mind. I don’t think we’re going to find him, Denz.
He holds my gaze. You sure, Neef? You sure there’s nowt you can tell me?
I shake my head, even though I can see how much he is hurting. His shoulders slump and I watch the hope drain out of him. I wait for him to say something else, but no words come and I wonder if it is because he doesn’t trust himself to speak. Another beat passes before he looks down at the ground, turns back in the direction he came. For a moment Lewis hangs back and I see that he is watching me, a strange look in his eyes. But then he goes after Denz.
I’ve lost interest in going anywhere, slump back against the wall. It’s only then that I realize Denz has left the orange carrier bag on the ground. I take it with me back to the caff, tip the contents out on one of the tables inside. A trashy magazine, a plastic box of cookies, a lip balm, Strepsils, a jumbo packet of paracetamol. It almost makes me laugh to think of Denz—Denz who could never stand the sight of me, who hated me all those years ago—wandering around a supermarket choosing things to make me feel better.
I leave the stuff on the table, go out the back for a cig. I’ve taken to smoking a lot again lately. I am standing in the side passage of the caff when I hear the voice.
Got a light?
It makes me jump, gasp out loud. Lewis is on the main road, just by the entrance to the alleyway, and I swear under my breath at the sight of him.
Sorry, he says. I didn’t mean to scare you.
He moves toward me, his hands held up as though in surrender. Hey, chill, Neef. I aren’t here to do anythin other than talk.
Where’s Denz?
He’s gone back to the flat. I told him I was meetin a mate.
But you’re not.
No.
He gestures to the unlit cigarette in his hand, and I fish the light out of my pocket. He takes it, sparks up, lets out a stream of smoke before speaking again.
Must be mad, seein Denz, he says at last. Must mess with your mind.
I don’t respond, toy with the keys to the caff in my pocket.
Man’s got a lot of demons. Got a lot he wants to put right.
He thinks I can fix it for him, I say. Thinks I can put things right between him and Danny. But I can’t. I have no idea where he is.
Lewis shakes his head. Nah. This int about findin Danny.
What?
This, he says, waving his hand vaguely in my direction. All this, with you. Nah. This is about regret. This is about him sayin sorry, for what he did.
I don’t think so.
Lewis shrugs. Trust me. He knows he made a lot of mistakes, knows he screwed you over. He can’t live with the guilt, man. Danny piled it on him for years. Denz knows as well as I do that Danny int lost.
What do you mean?
He looks at me thoughtfully. If Danny wanted to see Denz, he knows where to find him. But Denz hurt that kid too many times, hurt too many people that Danny loved. He int lost, he just don’t want to be found.
I twist my neck to look down the alleyway, half expecting to see Denz standing there, listening. I need to get back inside, I say, but Lewis cuts me off.
You didn’t really disappear, did you, Neef?
Lewis’s words stop me dead in my tracks. What?
You came to South London for a reason. Because you and Danny had always planned it. You knew that if you came here, Danny would know where to find you.
I thought I’d forgotten, I hear myself say.
But you hadn’t.
So why didn’t he find me then?
Lewis takes a long drag of his cigarette, his eyes trained on me. Maybe he did, he says.