Clopwyck River - revised version

Chapter Three

"Who's there!?" he shouts towards me, his eyes searching me out like desperate fog lights. He raises a hand against the beam of light from my head torch, and I take it off my head, holding it in my hand as I make my way towards him.
​"It's me- Demi?" I put one foot in front of the other, until I'm less than two meters away from him. I notice a small rectangular container sitting just beneath him and realise what the strange smell is; petrol. My heart changes a gear into double heart beats, but I try and keep my voice steady. "We met earlier when I was looking for directions?"
​"Of course it would be you." He turns away from me and shakes his head. "I know who you are."
​Ben is a shadow of the swaggering figure of confidence I met earlier. His hunched shoulders and shaking body, and of course the fact that he's sitting on the edge of a bridge above a very a deep drop into the river, tell me that there is something seriously wrong here. I see despair looking straight back at me whenever I look in the mirror, and I recognise its look in Ben's face.
"Um, Ben?" I pause, hoping that he'll look at me, see how bone chillingly scared I am, and just hop back over the railings and laugh at how terrified he's made me. He doesn't. "What's up? Why are you sitting up there?"
As I will him to get down, I can't help but think about Daria, Andrew, and Elliot back at the house, enjoying bed time routines, and of Jackie who is probably relaxing with a glass of wine after her journey back to Cambridge. I even think of Ciara, picturing her in a giant bedroom, straightening her hair or painting her nails. I think of everyone going about their evenings, enjoying their loved ones, and their TVs, books and newspapers. I think of all of these people even though Ben and I are the only two people in the world right now.
He doesn't say anything, and doesn't look at me, so I try again.
"I've got to say, Ben, I don't know if this is normal behaviour for you, but you're making me kind of nervous up there. It's so slippy." I swallow, my mouth as dry as cotton wool. "Why don't I help you back down here? You could show me around Clopwyck?"
A low chuckle swirls up from inside him, and if I didn't think it was possible to feel more scared, I do now.
"What's funny, Ben?"
"Me showing you around. Funny." He shakes his head, a smile carved into his face as he looks into his hands. I crane my neck to see what he's looking at, and it catches the moonlight, flashing in my eyes.
"Yeah, real funny." I frown at him, and look closer at the object, my knees weakening as I realise what he's clutching.
A lighter.
"Ben, seriously, talk to me. Why are you up there? Has something happened with Ciara?"
He barely shakes his head, but I knew I was clutching at straws anyway. The small fraction of their relationship that I witnessed earlier didn't suggest he would cope with an argument with such drastic actions.
"What then?" I risk a step closer to him, the smell of petrol spiking up my nose. "Ben, why can I smell petrol?"
He ignores me, and I stare at him as precious time ticks away from me. A little bubble of hope rises in my belly and I thrust my hand into my pocket and pull out my phone.
"Look, is there someone I can call for you?" He doesn't answer, and I think of who I could call. The only person I can think of is Andrew, but I don't have his number. Idiot. "What's Ciara's number? Or maybe I should call the police."
"No!" He whips around to look at me, wobbling slightly but at least I've got his attention. "I don't want them here. I don't want anyone here."
"Okay, that's okay, Ben." I make a show of putting my phone back in my pocket, wiping away the rain drops from its screen as I do.
"Stop saying that!" he shouts, his face crumpling as he leans forward and balls up his fists, pushing them into his temples.
My hands fly up in case he topples forward, but I'm thankful he's talking to me.
"Stop saying what, Ben?"
"That! Ben! Ben, Ben, Ben! Like we're friends! How can we be friends?! I'm not your friend! I can't be!"
I still can't believe that this is the smooth, confident, good looking boy who winked at me earlier today. The boy who, I must admit, kept pushing himself into my thoughts as I was unpacking in my warm, dry bedroom. It's like he's turned himself inside out and I'm seeing the complete reverse of who I thought he was.
"Okay, sorry! I won't say it again, I promise. It's okay."
He looks at me. "You have no idea, otherwise you wouldn't say that."
"Sorry. Look, what can I do to get you to come down?"
I feel like I'm trying to get a saddle on a wild horse, and any second I'm going to lose it as it gallops away into the dark.
"You can't do anything. Nobody can do anything. You can't change the past, no matter how much you want to. You can't bury a lie and think it will disappear." His words make my blood run cold. "Lies have life. They breathe, and they grow. They leak poison over time. They're like weeds. They just keep coming back up."
"What lies? What are you talking about? Please, just talk to me!"
He bites his wobbling lip, the weight of whatever secrets he has crushing on top of him, snuffing out any sign of life in his eyes. His face wrinkles up like paper, delicate and prone to tearing as he looks up and cries out to the moon.
"I can't!"
I'm losing him. I feel as desperate as he does, but our desired outcomes are the complete opposite of each other and I can see this is not going to end in the way I want it to.
"You can! Please, just swing back round towards me and we can walk back together."
I put my hand up towards him, willing him to grab it. He looks at it through puffy eyes, then shakes his head as he meets my own desperate stare.
"I'm sorry," he whispers.
"Don't be sorry, don't worry; it's fine. Just grab my hand and you'll be fine. I promise you."
"You can't promise that."
I know he's right, and I look at my feet.
"Okay, you're right. I can't promise that, but I can promise you that if you come down from there, I will walk you back to your house and you can talk to me, or not talk to me, or whatever, but I will be right there with you, and you won't be alone. I will not let you be alone."
"It's too late. I need to make it go away."
"Make what go away? Please, Ben, you're really scaring me."
His face is awash with his salty tears and the unrelenting rain, and he gives in to the wretched sobs that have been working their way up his body since we began talking. He stands suddenly, his eyes pleading with me but I'm hopelessly frozen. I can barely understand his words through the pouring rain as he cries out to me.
"I...I...I've done something terrible!"
He flicks open the lighter with a flash and orange flames lick up his arm before I can even close my eyes against the sudden light. The fire flies across his chest and engulfs his entire body in one breath, the hot flames cackling at the hopeless raindrops as they beat against their heat.
I jump up onto the railings and throw myself at Ben, grabbing him and using our weight to pull us towards the river below. I can't tell whether the screams that fill my ears are coming from me or Ben. Burning hair and petrol fumes choke me as we plummet towards the glossy darkness of the river, pain curdling my skin and my senses.
We hit the water, plunging beneath the surface, and I cling to Ben who is like a dead weight in my arms as we tumble around each other, the orange of the flames blinked out by the shadows of the river. I kick my legs frantically, my arms around Ben as I aim towards the hopeful crescent of moonlight shimmering above the surface and leading me upwards.
We break the surface and I heave breaths as we bob up and down, spluttering the river water that's made its way into my lungs. Ben is motionless in my arms, growing heavier and heavier but I head to the bank of the river, clumsily kicking my legs towards the willow tree branches that tickle the surface of the water. I grab a branch and pull us towards the bank, and risk lowering a foot, my heart swelling when I feel the bed of the river right beneath it.
I haul myself up, and grab Ben under his arms, stumbling backwards until we reach solid ground. I fall backwards, and with his weight on top of me, the pain, the exhaustion, and the shock of what just happened manifests in a pair of black curtains that slowly draw themselves across my consciousness as I start to fade out, and my body doesn't have the strength to fight against a pair of hands that are grab at my shoulders.