Stockholm Syndrome [01] - Stockholm Syndrome (55 page)

"Just cos."

"That's not a reason."

"Yes it
is
."

"It's not."

"I'm not talking no more." He gets up, steadying himself on the arm of Lindsay's chair and stamping out the pins and needles he's got from kneeling.

"Did you find my car keys?"

"They're on the peg, where they belong." A long, uneasy silence.

"Where are you going?"

"Toulouse."

"What for?"

"Airport."

"Oh."

It feels weird, standing when Lindsay's sitting. It's weird being taller 439

C H A P T E R 3 5

than him, looking down on him.

"If you tell me I'm not allowed to go, I won't."

"If you want to go then I'm not stopping you."

"I know everything. I might tell."

"Will you?"

"I might."

"I don't care."

"Lindsay." There's a desperate burning sting in the top of his nose and he tries to sniff it away. "I'll stay if you tell me to."

"Just do what you think you need to. I can't tell you how to live."

"Yeah you can. What do you
want
?"

"Does it matter what I want? You're the one going."

"You're so
fucking stubborn
." It should be easier, getting angry like this.

He can storm out and slam all the doors and speed off in a noisy roar of engine and too-loud music. It's not easier at all. "You're allowed to be happy. You're allowed to be sad, too, and confused and whatever, but you're not allowed to just fucking wallow in it and make like you love me one second then don't ever talk to me no more, that ain't fair."

"You know what else isn't fair? When-"

"If you bring up what happened again I'm gonna black your other eye."

It's the first emotion Lindsay's shown in ages, that look of surprise and then a flash of anger. Pip holds his breath for a second, he thinks he's getting somewhere, but then Lindsay's face smoothes over again and he just looks blank.

"You told me you were gonna shoot me if I ever said anything about it ever again, and now you bring it up all the time for guilt trips and stuff and it's stupid, it ain't fair."

"You keep saying that."

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S T O C K H O L M S Y N D R O M E

"What?"

"How nothing's
fair
."

"I'm going now." He says it suddenly, forcing himself to make the decision and stick with it, otherwise they're going to go round in circles forever.

"Back to London. I'm gonna stay with Olly, he says I can, I asked him just now.

And I'm gonna go and see my mum and dad, cos I ain't scared of them no more. I ain't scared of nothing no more, except you hating me.
Proper
hating me, not just being annoyed. So I'm going." He stops and bites his lip, silently begging Lindsay to say something, but he won't even look up. "You have to tell me to come back, if you want. I've got my mobile. Email. Whatever. If you want."

He goes then, quickly, before he does a really crap embarrassing cry. He can feel it wanting to come out, a proper stupid childish wail with snot and tears and angry stamping, and that's not how he wants it to end. He's trying to be grown-up about something for the first time ever, but maturity is fucking overrated if this is how it makes you feel. He still lingers a bit in the car, clutching the steering wheel but not starting the engine yet, just resting his forehead on his hands and wondering if Lindsay's watching him through a window, wondering if he's going to do a brilliant Hollywood last-minute turnabout and come running out to stop him, but of course he doesn't.

He really really wishes that he hadn't left his monkey on Lindsay's pillow. It seems stupid now, but it's too late to go back.

Then he starts the engine, and drives away.

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