I Know What I Saw

When Rory died, he succeeded but I did not. I see that now – at last. The haunting of those years finally over. I see it. I know what it means to yearn for release in this way. To be free of the oppression of memory and action. I know what made him want to go and why he climbed on to the ledge. When you are there facing the eternal nothingness, it is overwhelming. It is all that it can do. It must overwhelm because that is its nature. So, he was overcome, as he was bound to be.

Now I am, as he was then, straddling the barrier. I swing a leg over until I am sitting on the wide wall that separates earth from air and water. The surface is slippery and sitting on it makes me feel giddy, as if on a downward swing. I swivel to face the water and feel the pull of the waves. When people visit high buildings and climb to the top, the thing they fear most isn’t falling, but jumping. They are afraid that some urge will take them and they will jump. And now here I am fearing the opposite – that I don’t have the courage to jump.

The river tugs at me. I inch forward, sliding on the smooth paint. There is tingling in my feet. I slide a little further until my legs dangle freely. The nerves in my toes sizzle with the sensation of falling, but my hands are still here, gathering sweat on the flat of the wall. I am aware of some people stopping, looking. A phone or two has come out to raise the alarm.

It is time.

I can see Grace now. Her face is there in the water. Now her arms. She is beckoning me.

‘Xander!’

From behind me.

I turn my head and I am shocked to see that it is Seb. His car is parked opposite, the hazard lights blinking, and he is running towards me. I could go now, before he reaches me, but then there will be alarms and panic and commotion, and rescues. And I don’t know if I can try again after that.

I spin back around and slide reluctantly on to my feet. ‘Why are you here?’ I say.

He comes puffing up, crossing the road quickly in between beeping cars. ‘What are you doing?’ he says, panting.

‘You knew,’ I say. ‘You knew I was doing this. I told you.’

He nods frantically. ‘Yes,’ he says between breaths, ‘but that was before.’

‘Before what?’

‘Xander. When you went haring out of the house after that call, I did last number ID and called the number. Jan.’

‘So?’ I say. She can’t have told him anything – she would be bound by confidentiality.

‘So, speak to her,’ he says, handing me his phone. I stare at it momentarily before taking it.

‘Jan?’

‘What’s that noise – I can hardly hear you. Is that you, Xander?’

The traffic crowds into the phone and I cup my hand around it to fend it off. ‘Sorry. Can you hear me now?’

‘Xander? Good. You hung up before I could tell you.’

‘Tell me what?’ I say. Already my heart is beating hard.

‘Whose print it was. Our print was for a guy called Yull. Harry Yull.’

‘Harry Yull?’ I say weakly. And then the name begins to chime bells. As I say it out loud it strikes me.

‘He went by a version of the name. Ariel,’ she says. ‘Anyway, the police, your friend Blake especially, have been busy following up this guy. Turns out he was in the area on the date of the murder. He was working just around the corner from her address. So, the Crown are reviewing the case.’

For a few moments, I stand there in silence. I am sure I cannot have heard this properly and yet, there she is on the other end of the phone, almost laughing from the news.

‘But,’ I say, ‘I was there.’ Seb looks at me expectantly, the wind blowing tears into his eyes.

‘Well, they’re not saying it wasn’t you. It’s more that they’re saying they can’t be sure it was you. They can’t disprove your defence. You said it was another guy, and, well, it turns out another guy’s print was on the record fragment. In blood.’

‘So, what about this guy, Ariel?’ I say. ‘Harry Yull?’

‘Nothing. He’s dead. Died of a heart attack in 2000.’

Dead.

The bridge has resumed its usual pace. People walk past, immersed in their own presents.

‘It wasn’t my print,’ I say to Seb, handing him back the phone.

‘It wasn’t your print,’ Seb says, holding me by the shoulders.

‘But that doesn’t mean I wasn’t responsible,’ I say.

‘What do you mean?’

‘I mean, I’m not sure any longer. When I bring it back, it’s not as I told it.’

‘What do you mean?’ he says into the wind.

I look back into the river, inviting me to become a part of it. I turn away from Seb and make off up the bridge, heading to the northern side. He follows me and after just a few strides, I feel his hand firmly against my arm.

‘Stop running. Xander. Just stop.’

‘I have,’ I say. Tears gather behind my eyes and I am so angry that they are there. I don’t need tears. I need resolve. I take in a deep breath and look into Seb’s eyes. I don’t want to burden him with this. I want to take the weight with me. When I go I want to leave the world behind me lighter. But when I look into his eyes, I see that it’s too late.

He stares at me and there is fear and anger there. But he waits.