He's After Me

Chapter FORTY-EIGHT



It all happens in a flash.

Livi finishes off with a flourish and throws her arms out in triumph, as graceful as a trapeze artist. The crowd whoops and applauds.

You show-off! is my immediate sour thought. You’re loving every minute of this.

She dangles upside down for a few seconds, savouring her moment of glory.

At this point I’m actually jealous. I’m the graffiti artist, not her; I’m the one who’s been out tagging with Jem night after night! I’ve been up on that very roof with him myself, only minus the audience.

But I never had the nerve to go over the edge like she did. So Livi hogs the limelight, as usual, and even though I know she’s going to get hell for this, part of me wishes it was me up there.

I say something to my mother like, ‘It’s OK, Mum, you can look now.’ Mum peers upwards, terrified, her knuckles pressed against her mouth.

Above us, Livi twists and jerks, like she’s trying to heave herself back upwards but doesn’t quite know how. She stops and hangs there for a moment, out of breath, like a crumpled balloon, and I start to feel uneasy. The crowd waits, all attention again.

It’s obvious it’s going to be harder to get back up than she thought it would be. If she thought at all. She’s tired now.

I can feel cold fingers of fear clutching at my throat. Beside me, Mum is stiff with tension.

‘Careful, Livi,’ I whisper.

She flops about a bit and I can sense her panic, even from down here. I can hear Jem’s voice shouting instructions and suddenly she does one massive, desperate, convulsive movement, and arches her body upwards. Jem’s head and shoulders appear, his hand reaching out to grab her, and at the same time there is an almighty explosion of noise and police burst on to the roof behind them.

And I don’t know what happens next.

Maybe he missed her altogether.

Maybe the noise made him jump and he let go.

Maybe he couldn’t hang on any more and she just slipped from his grasp.

But she’s hurtling towards us and she lands on the road. It’s all over in a second.

As simple as that.

End of story.





She wanted to …

I never meant…

It wasn’t me …

She wanted to!