Chapter 52 #2
I proceed with extreme reservation towards the tower block labelled VCTORI, because of course some letters are missing.
There are some small kids playing on the most depressing playground equipment I’ve ever had the misfortune to see, and a gang of youths loitering uncomfortably close to me and them.
The stench of skunk is enough to strip the hairs from your nostrils.
Inside, things worsen quickly. There are three lifts, and all three are out of order. How the fuck can this be the case? What the hell are people with prams and pushchairs supposed to do, not to mention the less able-bodied? This is an absolute joke.
I approach the staircase at a run.
By the third floor, I realise this is a bad idea.
By the sixth, I’m wheezing.
By the eighth, I’m actually walking backwards to switch up the burden on my leg muscles.
Finally, I push a fire door through to the twelfth floor.
The corridor looks—and smells—like something out of a horror film.
Boiled cabbage and stale piss and more skunk.
Jesus fuck. I’m a sweating, fuming, exhausted mess, and with every passing moment, I’m more horrified that Ivy and her sisters are living here. It’s inconceivable.
I find door 1223 and I rap three times. ‘Ivy?’
Silence.
I knock again. ‘Ivy? It’s me. Xav.’
Still silence. I let my head collapse against the door with a dull thud. Then I hear a small voice.
‘Hello?’
It’s not Ivy. Must be one of the girls.
‘Rose? Lily? Is that you? It’s Xav. Can I come in?’
‘We’re not supposed to let anyone in when she’s not here,’ the voice says, and my heart breaks clean in two. These poor little things, holed up here and probably terrified, and Ivy’s probably terrified whenever she has to leave them, too.
‘I get that,’ I say. ‘I don’t want you to break the rules. It’s just—I’m looking for Ivy. Do you know where she is?’
‘She went to visit Mum,’ Rose-or-Lily says, and I practically slump with relief. Finally, one step closer to finding her.
A door opens nearby, and I look to my left to find an enormous creature in a stained t-shirt emerging into the corridor. He leans against his doorframe, crosses his arms over his chest, and looks me up and down. Jesus, he’s massive.
I want, with every fibre of my being, to turn and run, to hurl myself back down those twelve flights of stairs and get over to the care home as quickly as possible.
I also want to respect Ivy’s instructions, and I don’t want to make the girls feel uncomfortable, especially given they don’t know me all that well.
But I really, really don’t want to leave them here with the likes of this big brute. It seems very wrong to walk away from them in this moment.
I angle my body away from him and speak through the door.
‘I’m going to go and see Ivy and your mum, and I’m going to try to persuade Ivy to forgive me.
And if she does, but even if she doesn’t, I’m going to try even harder to persuade her to come and stay at my and Flora’s house tonight, because—because I don’t think any of you should spend New Year’s Eve here. ’
Silence. Then: ‘Will Flora be there?’
‘No, she won’t, I’m afraid. She’s, uh—’
‘Ivy said you were getting married.’
‘I was supposed to be, but I pulled out. It’s a very long story, but my brother is getting married instead, so Flora’s at the wedding right now.
But you can still stay the night, even without Flora.
’ I think about what levers I can pull right now to bribe teenage girls.
‘I’m sure she’d let you use all her… makeup?
Moisturisers? You know. And we could have a little New Year’s Eve party? Maybe order in?’
There’s some shuffling on the other side of the door, the sound of a chain being clanked, and the door is opening, a small face peeking through. ‘Could we get Chinese?’
‘Absolutely,’ I say, relief flooding my system. ‘Definitely. D’you think I could come in for a sec, though, because I—’
She opens the door, and I shuffle gratefully through the crack, slamming it behind me and putting a little distance between us and that brute.
Both girls are standing there, staring up at me.
They’re in matching pink onesies, but they can’t draw my attention away from their surroundings, and I suspect I can’t hide my reaction as I take them in.
Fucking hell.
This place is horrific. Tiny, and bleak, and claustrophobic, and so skanky it makes their old flat look like the Four Seasons.
That same, scraggly tree is in place, its lights flashing half-heartedly.
The furniture doesn’t fit, the carpet around the bright rug looks like a vast Petri dish, and the streaky white paint on the walls can’t disguise the overwhelming feeling of neglect.
‘How come you moved?’ I ask them, making my voice as neutral as possible. I’m also trying to sound less spectacularly out of breath than I am.
‘We couldn’t afford the rent after Mum got moved, so Ivy applied for a council flat,’ one of them says. ‘Can we get Peking duck?’
‘Absolutely. You can get whatever you want.’
‘And prawn crackers?’
‘Yep. So when did you move?’
‘The week before Christmas. But Ivy’s got a new job starting next week, so—’
‘It’s not new. It’s the old bar she worked at, they just gave it back to her,’ the other one says with a hair flick.
Ah, yes. Alchemy. How could I forget?
‘Yeah, so she said she’s going to try to find us another flat when she gets some money,’ the first one says.
So she took the job to get them out of this place. Jesus. My heart breaks even more, and my determination levels ramp up.
‘Well, that would be good, wouldn’t it? Right.’ I clap my hands and instantly feel like an idiot. ‘Do you think you can pack an overnight bag each in five minutes? The sooner we can find your sister, the sooner we can go and start our party.’
They give each other a matching grin. As they scamper off, I glance at the time on my phone.
Three fifty-five.
Over at Christchurch Cathedral, Oxford, those wedding guests are about to get the shock of their lives.