Chapter 49
Leo
The vodka burns, right into my soul.
I forgot how much I love it. Her mouth hangs open.
I can see her shaking from here. She puts her finger to her lips.
Shh. Please. Don’t make any noise. ‘I’ll ask again.
Is this what you wanted for me?’ She’s not answering.
Her hand goes over her mouth. She looks at the door.
‘He’s asleep,’ I say. ‘Don’t worry. Loves the whiskey, that one, doesn’t he? Oh, and your mum is fine.’
She stares. Eyes bulging. ‘How did you get in here?’ she whispers.
‘I’ve been here for a while.’
‘But—’
‘One-hundred thousand pounds. Shitting hell. Mandy, Mandy, Mandy. Aren’t you pleased?’
She doesn’t answer. She’s shaking. I think she’s pleased. ‘That’s a lot of fucking money. For a fucking book. Jesus. You should be proud of yourself. Well done.’
‘Listen... Leo. You can’t be here.’ She steps towards me.
I lift up the knife. ‘Just – stay where you are.’ My voice is steady. I’m not even shaking. Sometimes when I get mad as fuck, everything goes calm.
‘Can we talk another time, Leo?’
‘Who’s Leo?’
‘What?’
‘Do you not mean Liam?’ I dunno what I’m expecting this absolute nut job to do right now, but she looks like she’s about to cry. She can’t look at me.
‘You don’t understand.’
‘You’re fucking right I don’t.’
‘Please keep your voice down...’
‘I was so wrong. I actually thought you wanted to help me. And I was ready. I was. I was gonna ask. But...’ I hold up the vodka. Cheers. ‘This is so much better. And we should fucking celebrate.’
‘Leo—’
‘Love the name. Slay. Love the irony. Funny, too. Some of the book is really funny. But also sad. A great balance. I mean, I know you’ve not totally done the ending yet – but the proposed ending is fucking horrendous.
’ She frowns. ‘What? You look surprised. Oh, I see. Did you not think I could read?’
‘Leo – I...’
‘Cos there’s this scene where Liam can’t, so I assumed maybe you thought the same of me?’
She looks back to the door. She is fucking terrified. ‘You’re drunk.’
‘Yeah, I am. That mad bit where he gets bullied at school cos he can’t tell the time. Bless him. He’s a very interesting character, isn’t he? Fucking madhead, this guy. It’s sad, isn’t it? What happens to him?’
‘I want to explain, Leo, but let’s do it when you’re sober.’
‘I’m never sober.’ I tap the screen with the knife again. ‘You know that.’
‘I don’t think now is the right time.’
‘I think now is a great time. You’ve just got a fuckton of money for this book and I for one am very proud of you. Pour yourself a drink.’
‘Leo – no—’
‘Pour yourself a fucking drink, Mandy. Some wine?’ I get up and move to the fridge.
She flinches. I pull open the door. There’s the carcass of a fish on the bottom shelf.
Fucking mental. It’s eyes just staring at me.
‘Do you drink white?’ I say, trying to make my voice all posh.
It makes me laugh a bit. I pick up one of the bottles from inside the fridge door.
‘A little Sauvignon Blanc?’ I pop the cork.
Fun.
I see the glasses hanging upside down from below a shelf that has a load of herbs on it. I take two. Put one down in front of her. She flinches again. I pour the wine into it, right up to the top – glug, glug. Love a posh wine glass, me.
‘Here you go.’ She takes it. ‘Brilliant. A toast?’ I take the vodka bottle and hold it up.
‘To you, Mallory Mandy Maddox.’ I glug. Glug till the thing is almost empty.
It’s so good. ‘Now. I just want to know a few things – as a fan of your work. If that’s OK?
So – let’s talk about Liam. Do you want to sit?
You look like you’re about to fall over.
’ She puts her hand on the sink. Then moves towards the counter thing where I’m sat back down.
Think they call it an island. She definitely looks like she’s drowning. ‘You gonna sit?’
‘No.’
‘OK. Right, let’s dig in. Christ, Mandy.
His mother abusing him like that. How fucking horrible.
No wonder he’s such an addict. Makes sense, doesn’t it?
I mean – you should know, shouldn’t you – what with you being sober for so long.
Oh wait – look.’ I point to her glass of wine.
‘Oh well. I won’t tell if you don’t. Now – let me just find the bit that really got me...
’ I start scanning back through the document, up to near the beginning.
There are all these comments in the side bar from Stan. Stan the man.
Oh this bit is brilliant – Mallory!
This gave me chills.
I love this!
It’s darkly beautiful.
You have me in tears here.
Why are you putting me through this!!
I just need to know what happens!!!
What a fucking lightweight.
‘Here it is...?’ I squint at the screen.
‘Yeah. When he gets battered by his mum. I mean he’s only, what?
Six? And then she dies. And he gets passed around all these people who seem to fucking hate him.
And all that abuse – sends him a bit crazy.
Really harrowing stuff. And then he starts to get mad, doesn’t he.
Like – he starts to realise what has happened to him and that it’s not really his fault and he wants justice, I suppose.
Trying to find the men that hurt him. Fuck me, this shit is dark.
It’s really dark, isn’t it? I kind of get it, though.
He just wants to take the pain away. He wants redemption.
’ She looks at me, baffled. ‘What – did you not think I’d know words like that?
I did good in English you know. At school.
The thing that’s weird – there’s not that much plot in Slay.
He just sort of goes around getting abused, doesn’t he? ’
‘Leo, please—’
‘Just sit, Mandy, just fucking sit.’ She flinches. Perches on one of the stools opposite me. She looks like she’s about to vom. ‘That’s it. Nice. Perfect.’
She whispers something. Sounds like, ‘My husband.’
‘He’s not gonna hear us – he’s out of it, Mandy. And I think your mum is just minding her own business. She’s a bit doddery isn’t she, bless her. She fucking loves him.’
‘Have you been watching us?’
‘Ha! That’s funny. You’re funny.’
‘Please can you—’
‘Right, there’s another bit that I wanted to discuss.’ I look up at her and smile. ‘It’s like a book club, this, isn’t it? Very civilised.’ She’s shaking. ‘Never been invited to a book club before. I feel very important.’ I pull the laptop towards me. ‘This is fun, isn’t it?’
‘Leo.’
‘I saw your emails with Stan. Stan the man. Let’s talk about that new proposed ending.
Jesus Christ. Brutal. You know – I liked the other one too.
The ending where Liam and Mandy make their little therapy centre.
Very cute. But Gina – is it Gina? The lady from the publisher?
Yeah. She was right. It’s just not believable.
I agree with her. Think killing Liam off was the best route.
Now let’s talk about his death, cos fuck me, Mandy...
What an ending.’ Now I’m shaking. ‘Suicide is fucking bleak, isn’t it.
I mean, I almost cried reading that proposal.
Just so fucking sad, isn’t it? The description got me feeling sick in my stomach.
I know it’s just an outline, but Jesus. This poor lad had nothing, didn’t he?
He had absolutely nothing, got abused his whole life, then he fucking ended it and no one gave a shit.
’ I squint at the screen, taking a swig of my wine.
Tastes fucking rank. ‘Let’s see what you wrote.
No one will remember him. Yeah – that’s mad that. Fucking sad. So fucking sad...’
Fuck.
Fuck me.
I’m really shaking now.
She wipes her nose on the back of her hand. Is she pretending to be sad? I can’t tell. I never know anymore. I never know if people are actually sad or trying to do the right thing. She’s just fucking staring at me.
‘Can I ask you a question?’ she says. She sounds so meek.
‘Please.’
‘How did Mo die?’
Oh. I see. ‘Do you want it for your book? Mark doesn’t die in Slay, does he? Which is odd, now I come to think of it.’
She’s looking at the knife in my hand. ‘I mean it. What happened to him, Leo? How did he end up in the canal?’
‘Lots of people end up in that canal, Mallory. For lots of different reasons. Use your imagination. You seem to have a good one.’
‘Was it you?’
‘Ha. Course you’d think that. Nah. He slipped.’
‘He slipped?’
‘Yeah.’
‘I was actually pretty sad myself that night. Was gonna get in the canal. End it. Then I thought, actually, nah. I like being high. I’ll stay high. Forever. Easier that way. Just keep running. I’m good at it. So I called Mo. Went to his place. Then got him to come down to the bridge.’
‘Did you see him slip? Did you see him fall in?’
‘Yes.’
‘Didn’t you help him? Call the police?’
‘No. Anyway let’s get back to this wonderful work of fiction you’ve created.’
‘Leo...’
‘I always knew you were fucking nuts. But this is some nextlevel shit. I knew you were watching me. I wondered why you thought my life was so interesting. Lots of people do. Like my mum’s mate, Jean. You’re a bit like her. Thing is though, Mandy – you’ve got it all a bit wrong.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘See – I lie. A lot. I make a lot of shit up – to get what I want. So – maybe we could talk about some changes you could make to the book – so it’s really real.
I’ll give you some truth. Firstly, my mum isn’t dead.
She’s actually totally alive. She lives in Essex in a pretty normal house.
She’s absolutely sick of me – been trying to help me for a fucking age.
She’s always been dead nice. Tried to help me.
Paid for treatment. My parents remortgaged their house once, to help me.
Feel bad about that one. When I was little, she tried to protect me.
I was bullied a little bit but nothing bad.
Nothing bad ever really happened. She never fucking beat me up – no way.
Neither did my dad. Yup, I have two whole parents.
They’re just sick of me. And I don’t answer my phone to them – they never know where I am.
I prefer it that way. I dunno why I’m like this, Mal, but I think it’s something to do with this world.
I just hate the world. I’ve always had a lot of emotions, Mandy.
I have. I was called sensitive a lot as a kid, so I just tried to stop that.
Is that dramatic enough, though? Do you think people would give a shit?
Now, I’m no author, but I don’t think they would.
Not to the level of chaos that I’ve caused.
Doesn’t seem proportionate, does it? But honestly, think it all started when someone told me I was wet, cos I cried.
But you’ve made it so much better. You’ve really run with it, haven’t you? ’
‘I want to explain.’
‘Please do.’
She shakes her head. Leaves her wine where it is. She hasn’t touched it. ‘When I started this – I was trying to find a way out.’
Can she hear herself? ‘A way out of what?’
She looks at the door. Lowers her voice. ‘This life.’
I actually laugh. She sounds so fucking earnest. Like a character herself. ‘You want to get out of this life?’ I point at her massive fucking kitchen.
‘Yes.’
‘So you thought you’d leech onto mine?’
‘Yes.’
‘And you enjoyed it? It give you the thrill you wanted?’
‘It did. Yes.’
‘You’re insane.’
‘I’ve been told that.’
‘Are you just fucking bored? The mad thing is, to me – right – even my lies weren’t enough for your book. For the thrill. You made it worse. Liam and his HIV. That bit was a curveball.’
‘That wasn’t my idea.’
‘No?’
‘No. It wasn’t.’
‘Do you even know anything about it?’
‘What do you mean?’
‘It felt a bit under-researched. Is that a term you writers use? Don’t take this personally. It’s just a note. From me. A fan.’
‘Listen...’
‘And the therapist. She’s a well interesting character. I mean – I get it. Saviour complex. Trying to help the poor guy. But Mandy. She’s you. You even put us meeting in the café. But Mandy felt so bad for him that guess what? She started to care about him. That’s so sweet.’
‘I do care.’
‘Bullshit. Then this bit in the proposal.’ I find what I am looking for. ‘No one will remember him. Except Mandy – the therapist. He will have a lasting impact on her life.’
‘Leo...’
‘I love a bit of guilt appeasing. I do it. It’s great. We all do it – don’t we?’
‘Listen—’
‘I know I’ve fucked my life up – but Jesus. Is this really what people see? I... Wait – are you crying?’
‘I’m going to say no to the book deal. I don’t want it.’
Why does she get to cry? I’ve not cried in years.
I want to fucking cry. ‘No, no, no. You don’t get to take the moral high ground now.
’ She frowns. ‘Yes, I know what the moral high ground is, Mandy. Is this how you see me? All the shit. Is that what makes me so interesting? I am a fucking person, you know. I am a fucking person.’
I think I’m shouting. I am.
She’s proper crying. Her face isn’t moving but tears are falling right down it.
Then I see him. Coming into the kitchen through the door. ‘What’s going on?’
He stares at me. At the knife in my hand.
I point the knife at him. ‘All right, Ronan. Story time. You joining in?’