Caroline Smailes

The Drowning of Arthur Braxton


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to the desk and grabs the appointment book. He’s standing, looking at his appointments, and I’m trying my hardest to explain about Maddie before he walks away. I’m not even sure he’s listening. But then, just when I’m almost finished explaining, Silver throws the book on the floor, walks towards the main entrance and out to where Maddie’s sitting on the steps. I wish I knew what I’d done to make him hate me. I thought he was my friend.

       The Curse:

      But mainly, for the last few days, I’ve been trying to talk to Silver and trying to avoid Martin Savage, but it’s been pretty much impossible. Madame Pythia’s already given me a warning for hiding in the Males 1st Class changing rooms and another for not being at my desk in reception. She’s not being mean, her words always sound sad. I’m sure she was crying when she was looking at me earlier.

      Today my black hair’s all flung loose over my shoulders. I think it looks pretty. I’m not doing it for Martin Savage, it’s just ’cause I’ve had it up for a couple of days ’cause our Bill brought back nits from school and it pulls on my scalp when I wear it up too much.

      I’m sitting on the steps outside Males 1st Class, I’m not reading or anything ’cause I’m feeling sick with all the hula-hooping in my belly. That feeling’s with me all the time now, like I’m waiting for that bad thing to happen. It’s not like I can ask Silver to tell me what he saw, no chance at all, ’cause he’s proper ignoring me and still not even buying me Smarties from the shop.

      There’s a couple of people waiting to see Madame Pythia but they’re over talking to someone in Silver’s queue, outside Females.

      ’Course I don’t hear him sneaking up. He’s good at creeping.

      ‘You thought ’bout tying your hair up nice,’ he says.

      I can feel his fingers doing spidery steps running down my arm, up and down and up and down. I don’t move.

      ‘Show me your titties,’ he says. I don’t look at him.

      ‘Prick-tease,’ he says. I don’t look at him.

      ‘Bet some lad’s giving you one,’ he says. I don’t look at him.

      ‘I declare that you’re sacred to me,’ he says. I don’t look at him.

      ‘And if you so much as look at any other bugger, I’ll rip your hair out and stuff it in your mouth,’ he says. I don’t look at him.

      ‘You know you love me really,’ he says. I don’t look at him.

      ‘I mean, what you scared of?’ he says. I don’t look at him.

      ‘I’m Lord of The Oracle,’ he says. ‘There ain’t nowt in the now or in your future that I don’t know.’

      I can feel sick coming up my throat and I’m gulping and gulping to push it back down. I want him to go away, I want to scream at him to fuck off back to all them women who want him. There’s so many who throw themselves at him, so why won’t he leave me be?

      ‘You’d better still be a virgin, this had better all been worth it,’ he says, again. And that’s when I look at him.

      ‘Fuck off, old man,’ I say.

      I know I shouldn’t have said it, but it’s like the words escaped before I had the chance to stop my brain from making them.

      ‘I’d rather fuck you,’ he says and he sits down next to me. His thigh brushes against mine. He’s calm, too calm. I try to turn my body away, he shuffles closer.

      ‘Over my dead body,’ I say. I feel his hand on my thigh.

      He laughs. ‘Soon,’ he says, and then, ‘It’s your destiny.’

      And that’s when I turn to look at him. I don’t remove his hand from my thigh, I don’t scream and I don’t shout. There’s something in his voice that makes me listen, that makes me know that what he’s about to say matters. He’s that close to my face I can smell his ciggie breath. It’s like I’ve got no more fight, like all the strength in me’s gone. I can’t stop him, he’s just too strong, he’s too focused. He’s never going to stop. Martin Savage has got the advantage, he knows what happens next.

      ‘Why don’t you just kill me?’ I say, I almost whisper. I mean it. I wish he would.

      ‘No point,’ he says, and then, ‘You’re going to die within the year anyway.’

      ‘What?’ I say. My eyes are on his face, he’s smiling a proper smile.

      ‘Dead,’ he says. ‘Silver told me. Within a year. Your life’s over.’

      He says those words and I listen. I’m sure I’m holding my breath. I think I’m shaking. And that’s when something changes in me, something hardens, something makes sense. I mean, I think about Silver and I think about all those lines on my palm that told them secrets. I know that Martin Savage is evil but I also know that he’s telling the truth, that it’s been foretold. That’s why Silver’s been avoiding me, that’s why I’ve been feeling full of hula-hoops. That’s why all my hopes and dreams for my future are pointless. I’m never going to escape, I’m never going to be allowed to have better than this.

      I know I’m crying. I can hear Martin Savage laughing. I can’t fight him any longer, he’s broken me, his fingers have moved up my thigh and are fiddling with the elastic on my knickers.

      And that’s when I look into his eyes. He can see the change in me too.

      ‘That’s right, my shagging you was foretold,’ he says.

      ‘It’s written in your palm,’ he says.

      ‘Get up,’ he says, removing his fingers from me and standing up tall. ‘Go into my changing room.’

      I keep looking at him, I keep looking into his eyes, I see his disgust, I see what he really thinks of me. I know that I’ve no choice, I know that I’m playing a role. I guess this is what destiny feels like. As I’m getting up, I see that he’s unzipping his jeans.

      ‘They all give in eventually, Laurel,’ he says. ‘Let me show you love,’ he says, licking his lips. ‘Let me show you what it means to be loved,’ he says to me, and then, ‘Before you’re dead and buried.’

       Arthur

       EARTH: (Water. Air. Fire.)

      Reference No: 10-003760

      Name: Charlotte (Charlie) Cornelius

      Missing Since: 05-Feb-1998

      Not only do I have a boner but I’m running out the yard with my pants around my arse and it’s raining on my cock.

      ‘You twats!’ I’m shouting, but I know they’re not listening.

      My cock rocks in the wind as I run, but I don’t stop and zip up my trousers until I get around the corner, just outside the post office on the main road.

      The sky’s all grey, mainly ’cause it’s been raining forever, and I’m just letting myself get soaking. I’m a proper bell-end. I mean, what was I thinking? Estelle Jarvis is fit, there was no way she’d ever be interested in me. I mean just ’cause she liked all my profile pictures on Facebook. Like she’d ever want to suck my cock. No. That twat Tommy Clarke organised it all and by now my cock’ll be all over Facebook.

      Why do that? Why put my cock all over Facebook? I look up to the sky,