She hadn’t seen Juliet in over a week.
‘What’s happened? Is she hurt?’
‘She’s on the Suspension Bridge.’
‘What?’
They ran through drizzle. The pavements, wet and shiny under the streetlamps, were littered with Chinese takeaways. The wind had got up too. On her way out, Chrissy had grabbed the purple raincoat from the back of her chair, which she was glad of now, pushing her arms through the sleeves as she ran. Her pumps were soon squelching from the dampness, and she realized just how unfit she was. There was no time to stop and catch her breath.
By the time they reached the bridge her chest was heaving. She could see a female silhouette balancing precariously on the railings. Chrissy recognized the style of dancing immediately. Juliet was holding onto one of the steel cables, weaving her free hand through the air.
‘Juliet!’
A police officer held her back.
‘This is the friend I was telling you about,’ said the guy.
‘I’m her best friend. I’m Chrissy. Let me go to her, she’ll listen to me.’
It was a female officer who escorted her through. A large crowd had gathered, late-night party people mostly, but a few local residents in their dressing gowns also looking on anxiously. The traffic had backed up on either side of the bridge, blocked by police barriers. An ambulance and fire engine were standing by.
Juliet was in her underwear. She was holding her face up to the rain as the wind raced through her hair, playing a game of its own – trying to sweep her off. It reminded Chrissy of the time they had been on the bridge together that day, catching raindrops on their tongues. It seemed like a long time ago now.
Juliet took her hand off the cable. The crowd let out a gasp as she teetered precariously, wondering which way she would fall. She was barefoot, and the railings looked slippery in the wet. Her arms made frantic circles in the air, until, somehow, they managed to grab hold again. Juliet let out a whoop as she steadied herself.
‘Hey Ju,’ Chrissy shouted, trying not to sound alarmed. ‘What’re you doing up there?’
‘Chrissy! Come up onto our bridge.’
‘It’s the middle of the night, Ju. Let’s go back to mine, have a mug of hot chocolate.’
‘“I would go out tonight, but I haven’t got a stitch to wear” …’ Juliet began to sing.
Chrissy caught a whiff of something that suggested she might be smoking a joint up there.
‘Have you any idea what she might have taken?’ the officer asked.
‘No,’ said Chrissy. ‘None at all.’ She didn’t want Juliet getting arrested the moment she came down. The truth was, she could have taken a whole cocktail of stuff.
‘Has she ever done this before?’
‘Not to my knowledge,’ Chrissy replied. As far as she knew she hadn’t, but this had been her fear all along. ‘Ju, come on down! You must be freezing up there in your knickers. What’re you like?’
‘Freezing my tits off! It’s great.’ Suddenly her tone changed. ‘It’s all so fucking great.’
‘Ju, you’re scaring me now. Just turn around – carefully – and we’ll catch you. I promise.’
Juliet looked down into the Gorge, almost losing her grip. ‘Wahoo!’ she shrieked.
‘Ju!’
Without warning, she had jumped.
Her landing was softened by Chrissy on one side and the police officer on the other. Fortunately, her limbs were loose, due to her inebriated state. Someone threw a foil blanket over her, which she immediately shrugged off again. ‘Are we keepers, Chrissy?’ she asked, smothering her in kisses as she was leading her away from the applauding spectators. The paramedics steered them towards the ambulance.
‘Sure we are, Ju.’ She slipped the purple raincoat over Juliet’s shoulders. ‘Come on, let me help you.’
‘We’re going to France, you and me. Gonna be a blast.’
‘Yeah, we’ll see,’ said Chrissy.
Juliet stopped in her tracks and flung the coat back at her. ‘Fuck you then, Chrissy Wotsit.’ She burst into tears. ‘I thought you were my friend.’
‘I am, Ju. Ju!’ But Juliet was pushing her away as the paramedics tried to get her into the ambulance.
‘She’ll be fine,’ one of the paramedics told Chrissy. ‘Best not cause her any further distress.’
‘Juliet!’
The rain flickered like ticker tape in the headlights of passing cars. Chrissy watched the guy who had come to her door earlier climb up into the ambulance with Juliet, and she just wished there was more she could do to help her friend.
***
It was nearing the end of the third term and most students had finished their exams. There was a sense of relief in the air, and thick woolly jumpers had been replaced with T-shirts, shorts and white summer legs. A heavy-duty lawnmower could be heard in the distance. Chrissy had opened her window as far as it would go to let in some air. With it came wafts of barbecued sausages and cheap burgers, drifting in on random bursts of laughter. She gazed out at the huddles of First and Second Years spread out across the grass, and sighed.
A tentative knock on her door broke her from her trance.
‘Juliet,’ said Chrissy, narrowing her eyes. Her initial elation was soon tainted by the hurt she still felt.
‘Can I come in?’ asked Juliet, as tentatively as she had knocked.
‘’Course.’
Juliet was in a pair of chequered hot pants and red halter-neck top, her hair piled high in a beehive. She sat down on the edge of the bed with a nervy smile which seemed to convey both remorse and shame. The dark circles under her eyes were faded; she had put some of the weight back on, and her face had lost that sad, hollowed-out look. She looked fabulous in fact.
‘Dan came to see me,’ she said.
‘Yeah, I told him to,’ Chrissy replied, tersely. ‘We were worried about you.’
Juliet paused for a moment. ‘So how were your exams? Thought it best to stay away, let you get on with your revision and stuff.’ Chrissy nodded. ‘Still on for that First, are we?’
‘We’ll see,’ she replied with a modest grin.
Juliet glanced out of the window and then down at a piece of paper on her lap. ‘I wanted to say I’m sorry, Chrissy. Yeah, I know. And also … to show you this.’
It was a letter of acceptance onto the Fashion and Textiles course at Bristol Poly.
‘Oh my god, Ju. Well done!’ she said, rushing towards her.
‘My dad doesn’t know. Obviously.’
‘It’s the best news, Ju. Dead proud of you.’
‘I’ve found us a house for next year too. So … well … if you’re interested that is. It’s in Redland, with three other housemates.’
‘You have been busy.’
‘And before you ask – because you’re bound to – it’s booze and fags from now on. Nothing else. Never again.’
‘That’s good too.’
‘Yeah … Well, anyway, I thought you might want to celebrate.’