Ignored, the pile of post by the front door spread into the hall like unstuck tiles; unnoticed, sticky glasses and crusted dishes crowded the worktop; unseen, the garden grew on, its glory shut out behind the curtains.
There was a strange ringing sound. Bella flapped vaguely at the side of her head to make it go away. No. There it was again. A ringing. Definitely a ringing. And now banging. Bloody neighbours. Noisy people. It was very noisy around here. What was the point of moving away from London and going without proper olives if there was still so much noise? They should sssh. Someone should complain. Yes. She would write to them. To the people. The people you complain to. That’s what she would do. More ringing. She stretched out for her alarm clock and hit it. The button was already down. Still ringing.
Bella swivelled her body around and slowly lowered her legs to the floor. Shoes. She should find some shoes. Looked down at her feet. In shoes. That was handy. Banging again now. Right. She would go and sort them out. She pushed herself to her feet. Wandered out to the landing. Noisy people.
‘Sssh!’
She stood at the top of the stairs. Below her, the stairway stretched, elongating itself so that it seemed as deep as the Grand Canyon. She wondered if there would be an echo.
‘Hell-o-o-o,’ she called.
‘Hello?’ returned from below. Brilliant. There was an echo.
‘Helloo-oo-o-oo-oooo-o-oo,’ she called again.
‘Bella? Hello! It’s me!’
That wasn’t such a good echo. Wasn’t it supposed to say the same thing? It seemed an awfully long way to the bottom. She sat down abruptly on the top step and started to make her way down on her bum, step by step.
Near the bottom, she was confronted by a pair of eyes looking at her through the letter slot.
Bella waved.
‘Bella! Thank God.’ Viv’s eyes widened. ‘What are you doing?’
‘Why are you in my letter-box?’
‘I’m not in your letter-box, you idiot. I’m trying to look through to see if you’re there.’
Bella looked around.
‘But I am here.’
‘Yes, I can see that now.’
Bella seemed to be thinking.
‘There was a ringing.’
‘Yes. It was me. I’ve been leaning on your bell for ten minutes. Babe – it’s bloody cold out here.’
‘I could give you a little drinkie to keep you warm.’ Bella pulled herself up by the banister. ‘I’ve got a funnel.’
‘No. That’s not what I meant. Could you let me in, d’you think? I’m getting cramp.’
‘You should take salt for that. And not be getting into people’s letter-boxes. Will you stop ringing if I let you in?’
‘I’m not ringing.’
‘Oh. It’s stopped.’
As Bella opened the door, Viv practically fell inside onto the mat.
‘Gone numb,’ she said. ‘I’ve been kneeling on your doorstep. What the hell’s the matter with you? Why haven’t you been answering your phone? Your answer-phone tape’s full.’
‘Do you still want a funnel?’
‘No, I don’t want a bloody funnel. Bel? You haven’t —’ Viv suddenly grabbed her by the shoulders ‘— had anything, have you?’
‘Yes, thank you. Do you want some?’
‘What? What?’
‘What?’
‘Yes, WHAT, you idiot. What have you had?’
‘No thank you. I’ve had enough now.’
Viv shook her.
‘Bella. I’m serious now. Tell me – exactly – what you have eaten or drunk.’
Bella thought for a minute.
‘Bikkits. Jaffa cakes.’ She held up three fingers.
‘Three jaffa cakes?’
Bella shook her head.
‘Three packets.’
‘They’ve never had this effect on me. What else?’
‘More—’
‘More what? Come on.’
‘More-teezers.’ She giggled. ‘Family-size packet. Bella-size packet.’
‘And? What else? Tablets, was it?’
‘No, no. ’m not ill. No tablets. Maltesers.’
‘Yes, you said those.’
‘Mmm.’ She nodded. ‘Wine … and some Bailey’s … and a fuck of a lot of vodka.’
Bella sat on the stairs, watching Viv dash from room to room, listening to her babble on: why hadn’t Bella phoned someone? Nick would have come round – could have given her the number in Birmingham – was this all about Will – what on earth was going on – unbelievable – all this mess – pile of mail – her office said – phoned in sick – she’d been frantic – she’d no idea – how long had Bella been – water – drink loads of water – how could Bella have been so stupid –.
It was very bad to be rushing all the time, like that. Gives you indigestion. And that other thing you’re not supposed to have. Stress.
Viv squeezed past her to run upstairs, opening drawers and cupboards. Reappeared stuffing clothes into a bag.
‘You’re coming to stay with us for a few days. No arguments.’ She swept through to the bathroom and scooped up Bella’s toothbrush and flannel. ‘You had me shit-scared, you know. I just got back to discover you’d disappeared off the face of the earth.’ Viv hugged her. ‘You’ve got no idea, have you?’
‘What?’ said Bella.
She was lying in Viv and Nick’s spare room, swaddled in Viv’s fluffy dressing-gown. There was a glass of water by the bed. And a bucket. She could hear their voices, hushed outside the bedroom door. The reassuring whisper of grown-ups. The door opened a peep.
‘Bel? You asleep yet?’
‘Mmm-mm. Viv?’
Viv came in and perched on the edge of the bed.
‘What is it, babe?’
‘I’m sorry.’
‘For what? You don’t have to be sorry.’
‘For being a daft bugger. Thank you for being so nice.’
‘Night-night, you old silly. Sleep tight.’
The police were very polite. She had been on the main road, the other driver turning out of a side street. He thought she had stopped, he said, she was obviously letting him go, any idiot could see that; then she’d suddenly moved forward so he’d gone straight into her. Anyone would have done, he said, she must be a loony. Eyewitness reports conflicted. One thought she had almost come to a halt. Another said the van had swung out way too fast, she couldn’t have avoided it. And it had been indisputably her right of way.
Viv drove her to the pound where her car had been taken after the accident. The other driver’s insurance company had sent someone to inspect it; pronounced it a write-off. She could remove any belongings before it was taken to the wrecker’s yard.
‘Holy shit, Bel.’ Viv looked at the car and laid a hand on Bella’s shoulder. ‘Christ, you were lucky.’
Viv started to empty the glove compartment while Bella went round the back to open the boot, keeping her eyes averted from the front and side of the car.
The stench was appalling. A dead smell, fleshy, of rot and decay. She retched and backed away. What on earth was it? Realization flashed through her. The shopping. Viv started to come near, then the smell hit her. She covered her face with her hands.
‘What is it?’
‘I don’t know – chicken, prawns – everything. I feel sick.’
‘OK. I’m going in.’ Viv held her nose and plunged in, scooping up the two squelchy-looking bags and cramming them in another carrier, knotting the ends to seal it tight. She ran off, holding it at arm’s length, to find a suitable bin.
Her breathing was tight, shallow. She felt sick, faint. That stench. And the car. She was in that car.
I have to make myself look. I have to.
The front and part of the right wing were crushed, as casually crumpled as a scrap of paper. Her fingers ran over the metal, feeling the ridges, the dents. Both headlamps were broken, shards of glass still clinging to the metal rims, as shocking as a pair of stamped-on spectacles. The wing, just in front of the driver’s seat, dipped into a ragged valley, as if punched by a maniac.
Now, a cramp clenches her stomach and nausea swells into her throat. She flails her arm to clutch at the crushed metal for support and lurches forward, bent double, vomit splashing onto the tarmac. A dry inhalation of breath. Again she heaves, her whole body wrenched by spasms, and again.
A hand holds her hair back from her face, cool on her forehead. A quiet voice, soothing. An arm around her shoulders, steadying her, holding her. Viv.
Back at Viv and Nick’s, they cup their hands round mugs of tea like shipwreck survivors.
‘That gave me a hell of a fright, seeing your car. I suddenly realized – what if?’ Viv stares down into her tea. ‘You must take care of yourself. Who else would make me laugh and cook me lemon chicken?’
Viv asks if Bella has told Will.
‘Why would I? Why would he care?’
‘God, you can be irritating. Because he’s probably still mad about you, that’s why. I’ve never seen anyone so in love.’
‘Oh, do you think so?’ A polite request. Bella’s voice is flat, expressionless.
‘You know he was. And so were you. You were sickening to watch, the two of you, like cute puppies falling over each other. Bleugh.’
Bella opens her mouth to speak.
‘And don’t even think about denying it.’ Viv cuts her off. ‘I’ve never seen you so happy. Sorry to say this, but not even with Patrick – nothing like. You had this incredible sort of – radiance. Your skin glowed.’
‘Too much blusher.’
‘Shut up. You always do that. Joke about stuff that really matters to you. Just stop it for once.’ Viv drains the last of her tea. ‘Don’t you remember Nick teasing you because you wouldn’t stop talking about Will? Don’t you remember him saying: “So, what would Will say to that? Tell us Will’s favourite colour, Bella. It’s only midnight. We’ve got all night. Tell us more about how much he makes you laugh but how he can be serious too. Tell us again why his eyebrows are so adorable.” How can you forget?’
‘I know. I haven’t forgotten.’
‘Can’t you, well, ring him up or something?’
Bella shakes her head.
‘It’s too late.’
He won’t want me now. And I don’t know how. I haven’t the words.
‘How you doing there, babe?’
‘Marvellous. Loving every second.’ Bella closes her eyes and starts to cry. ‘Peculiar. Crap. Shaky. Glad to be in one piece. Can I have a hug?’ she says.
Viv holds her tight.
‘And don’t you dare scare me like that again – or I’ll have to shoot you.’
They laugh together, tears streaming down their cheeks.