Текст книги "You Against Me "
Автор книги: Дженни Даунхэм
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Текущая страница: 10 (всего у книги 17 страниц)
Tom was scared – Ellie knew it from the way he concentrated on the floor in front of his feet, the tight pinch of his shoulders. He was wearing his new suit, chosen by Dad for its fine weave and quality stitching. But under his arms and along his spine, sweat would be gathering.
Mum leaned across and nudged her. ‘The mother’s just come in. I heard Barry say.’
Ellie turned her head slightly, pretending not to be that interested. Mikey’s mum looked as if she was trying hard to be focused as she walked up the aisle, her head very straight, her neck straight too. Behind her came Mikey. And trailing behind him, his mate Jacko. Ellie couldn’t take her eyes off them as they hunted for seats.
‘She’s very young,’ Mum whispered. ‘You reckon those two boys have different fathers?’
‘They’re not brothers.’
‘They might be. How do you know?’
Ellie didn’t even bother replying. Her heart stirred with softness for Mikey as he helped his mum to a seat and encouraged her to take off her jacket. She looked very nervous as her eyes darted about the place.
Mikey’s gaze swept the room as he took his own coat off. He clocked Tom, Dad and the solicitor, their heads bent together, locked in last‑minute discussions. Then he saw Ellie and it was like an invisible electric wire joined them across the room. She turned away quickly and focused her attention on the high window above the judge’s bench. There was a line of grey cloud shifting across the sky. Under her chair, she crossed her feet, uncrossed them, recrossed them.
Mum nudged her again. ‘Here we go. Here’s the judge.’
The usher cried, ‘Court rise.’ And everyone stood up as the judge came in from a side door. He had a better wig than the barristers and was wearing a black and purple robe. He sat behind a long bench under a heraldic sign and everyone was told to sit down again. The usher sat below at a small desk and the barristers faced the judge with their laptops and their files of paper.
Ellie found it hard to concentrate, hard to focus. Mikey was behind her, three rows back on the other side of the aisle. The bride’s side.
The barristers took it in turns to stand up and talk to the judge. They talked about statements on which the prosecution were relying and material that might benefit the defence. Legal jargon was tossed back and forth, and the crowd leaned forward, trying to make sense of it.
Was Mikey looking at her? How much of her could he see from where he was sitting? The back of her neck? Her shoulders?
On and on the barristers went, and just as people started to shuffle their feet and Ellie began to hope that Barry was right and people would get bored and go home, Tom was asked to go and stand in the dock. The crowd pressed forward in their chairs.
The dock was to the side of the barristers, a semi‑partitioned area with steps up to it. When Tom stood there in his best suit, everyone could see his face. He looked paler than he had in the car, and very scared.
The judge said, ‘Is your name Thomas Alexander Parker?’
‘Yes, it is.’ He sounded young, his voice achingly familiar.
The judge read out his date of birth and then his address. He even included the postcode. The room seemed to tilt as he read the charge out. The words sexual assault echoed inside Ellie’s head. Tom was asked if he understood what he’d been accused of doing.
‘Yes,’ he said, ‘I do.’
Like a vow.
‘And how do you plead? Guilty or not guilty?’
Ellie could feel her own heart beating, her brain ticking, as the room slowed down. He could refuse to plead. He could plead insanity. He could say he did it.
‘Not guilty.’
A babble of objections broke out across the room, as well as a spattering of applause. Some of Tom’s friends must have come in, because a boy yelled, ‘You tell ‘em, mate!’ The judge banged his little hammer and asked for quiet.
In the fuss, Ellie stole a look at Mikey.
He was staring at the floor as if he’d given up. Her whole body felt cold looking at him. Mikey loved his sister, that’s why he’d tried to help her. He loved his mother too – see how he put his arm round her, see how she leaned in to him? He’d do anything for them, probably – isn’t that what people in families did for each other? Isn’t that what Tom was always telling her? But now Mikey would have to go home and tell Karyn that in a few short weeks, she’d have to leave the flat and come to court and talk about what happened. Her life would be taken apart and examined by strangers, and anyone could come and watch.
Not guilty.
The words repeated inside Ellie’s head. Every time she blinked she saw them flare.
Twenty‑eight
Mikey was making coffee in the kitchen and spying on Karyn and Jacko at the same time. He didn’t want to be making coffee, he wanted to be in the car on his way to work, but Mum had bolted upstairs as soon as they’d got back from court and he knew caffeine was the best way to entice her down.
Karyn was curling her hair over and over one finger and listening intently to Jacko as he told her he’d called Tom Parker a wanker from the crown court steps.
‘We all booed as he came out,’ Jacko said. ‘He put a coat over his head, he was so ashamed. There were loads of people on your side. Lots of your mates from school were there.’
‘I should text them,’ Karyn said. ‘I’ve been a bit crap about that. Sometimes it’s hard to believe everyone hasn’t forgotten about me.’
‘Forgotten you? No, girl, we’re here for you.’ Jacko rabbit‑punched the air with his fists. ‘Trouble is, the courts are full of bullshit. They should’ve left it to the masses. We’d have lynched him in the car park and hung him from a tree.’
‘Bad idea,’ Karyn said. ‘Look what happened to Mikey when he got too close.’
Mikey scowled at her. ‘What’re you talking about? I landed plenty of punches.’
‘You were trying to make yourself feel better.’
First she’d told Gillian about the fight, now she was mocking him in front of his best mate. He was astonished at how ungrateful she was.
‘You came home looking like a horror film,’ Karyn went on. ‘How did that help anyone?’
She shook her head at him like a disappointed parent.
‘He went solo, that’s why,’ Jacko said.
‘Yeah, forgot to take the brains with him.’ She leaned across and tapped Jacko’s head with a finger, which made them both laugh.
They were really beginning to get on Mikey’s nerves. Here he was making the drinks, and neither of them offered to do anything. They should be tidying up instead of sitting there. The table was crowded with stuff – ashtrays, coffee cups, plates from the scrambled egg earlier, a glass with scummy white lines from Holly’s milk. The whole room smelled faintly mouldy, like something was festering. Mikey knew this would all look the same when he came home from work tonight. He also knew that something had shifted in Jacko, something he didn’t quite understand. As Jacko riffed on about court, it was like he was suddenly in charge. It never used to be that way round.
‘The sister nearly fainted,’ Jacko said. ‘She had to be led out by her mum. They sat her on a wall and fanned her with a newspaper.’
‘Ellie Parker, you mean?’
‘Yeah, that’s it.’
‘She was in the house the night it happened,’ Karyn said, ‘and now she’s pretending not to know anything. I told you about her, didn’t I, Mikey?’
Mikey nodded as he fiddled about with sugar and spoons. Ellie’s name sounded very loud from where he was standing.
‘I remember more and more,’ Karyn said to Jacko. ‘I spoke to her a few times that night. She even got me a bucket in case I was sick, but on her statement she said she was asleep the whole time.’
Jacko frowned. ‘Shouldn’t you tell the cops?’
‘I did, but they say it’s not enough – just my word against hers. And she’s hardly going to grass her brother up, is she?’
‘You hungry?’ Mikey asked her, desperate to change the subject. ‘Did you eat anything when we were gone?’
‘Not really.’
Jacko shook his head at her disapprovingly, like he was the chef. ‘You should eat properly,’ he said. ‘Mikey told me you’re not looking after yourself.’
‘Did he?’ Karyn glared at Mikey as he stirred milk into the coffee. Great, another reason to sulk with him.
‘Anyway,’ Jacko said, ‘as a mark of how brave you are, I bought you something.’ He rummaged in the carrier bag he’d brought in from the car and pulled out a tin of Quality Street. Mikey knew they were from Lidl – he’d seen the offer, two for the price of one. He wondered what Jacko had done with the other tin.
The way Karyn grinned, you’d think he’d bought her an iPod. She looked right at Mikey with a why don’t you ever do anything nice for me? face as she peeled the sellotape from around the edge of the tin, opened it up and stuck her face right in there to sniff.
‘Smells of Christmas,’ she said.
Mikey knew lots of things his sister liked – prawn cocktail crisps, white chocolate, Smarties, Pringles. Any of them would have done, so why hadn’t he thought of it? He could have cooked her a whole meal in fact, beginning to end, that would have been more impressive. It made him mad to see Jacko doing all the right things, but none of the legwork. Jacko didn’t have a clue what it was like living with three women. He’d like to see him try.
Karyn blinked at the chocolates and all the bright wrappers glowed back at her. She took a green triangle and offered the tin to Jacko. He took one without looking, unwrapped it and stuffed it in his mouth. Mikey hoped it was coconut.
He slopped a coffee down in front of them both. ‘Don’t take too long drinking that,’ he told Jacko. ‘We have to go in a minute.’
‘Plenty of time,’ Jacko said, and he reached out and took another chocolate.
Mikey had a sudden urge to see Sienna because she thought Jacko was a tosser. He went back to the kitchen and texted her. She texted straight back, Die you creep. Why not? He deserved it.
To make himself feel worse, he went to his outbox and skipped through the stacked‑up messages he’d written to Ellie but never sent. Like heartbeats, over and over. I miss you. Meet me. Forgive me.
He deleted the lot.
She was on her brother’s side, Karyn was right. He’d been an idiot to think otherwise.
As Mikey walked back through to the lounge, Jacko was going on about how Karyn was by herself too much, how it was bad for her and she should invite people over.
‘I could’ve sat with you this morning,’ he said. ‘I wouldn’t’ve minded.’
‘I was fine. Gillian was here.’
Jacko looked confused. ‘Gillian’s her cop,’ Mikey told him. ‘Karyn thinks the sun shines out of her arse.’
Karyn shook her head. ‘Don’t make me sound like a prat, Mikey.’
‘I’m taking this drink up to Mum,’ he said. ‘We’ll go after that, Jacko, yeah?’
Jacko nodded, then turned straight back to Karyn. ‘So,’ he said, ‘you think you could face leaving the flat soon, for a drive or something?’
What a wanker.
Upstairs, his mum sat on the edge of the bed with the ashtray on her lap. He put the coffee next to her on the table.
She said, ‘How’s Karyn?’
‘Surprisingly chipper.’
‘You told her he pleaded not guilty?’
‘Gillian did. It’s hardly a surprise though, is it?’
‘I suppose not.’ She took a long drag of her cigarette and blew the smoke towards the window. ‘I don’t know what to say to her, Mikey.’
‘Don’t worry about it. Jacko’s filled her in.’
‘I don’t mean about today, I mean about everything. I’ve been sitting here trying to work it out.’ She turned to him, something urgent in her eyes. ‘I feel angry with her, and that’s not right, is it? I keep thinking, Why do we all have to go through this? Why did she let this happen? You know, Why did she get so drunk, why didn’t she fight him off?’
Mikey stood very still. He’d thought the very same things himself at times, but he didn’t think you were supposed to say them out loud.
Mum took a last drag of her fag and ground it into the ashtray. ‘I feel angry with the boy who hurt her, angry with myself for taking her to the police station, angry with her mates for dumping her. Where are they all now, eh? We haven’t seen them for weeks.’
‘She won’t see them, that’s why.’
‘Well, it would be easier if she’d never said anything in the first place. She should have carried on as normal and tried to forget. It’s not impossible to do that. You simply push bad things down and pretend they never happened.’
‘You don’t mean that, Mum.’
‘Well, how is this trial any good for her, eh? I think she should go back to school and do her exams. She’ll feel better if she does that, and then she’ll be able to get a job and forget all this. But no, when I suggest it she shakes her head and carries on sitting on that damn sofa.’ She reached for the coffee, took a swig, then put it straight down again as if it tasted disgusting. ‘Tell me how I’m supposed to handle it, Mikey. Tell me what I’m supposed to do.’
‘You have to keep being her mum, that’s all. Helping her and stuff.’
She put her head in her hands. ‘It goes on for ever though. I had no idea.’
He wasn’t sure if she meant the court case or looking after kids in general.
‘We’ve got social services breathing down our necks,’ she said. ‘They even had the cheek to offer me a parenting course – shoving leaflets and phone numbers at me.’
He knew he had to get out of there. ‘Jacko’s downstairs waiting,’ he said. ‘I have to go now.’
She looked up at him. ‘Are you getting Holly?’
‘No, I’m going to work. You’re getting her, remember?’
‘Can you do it?’
‘I’ve got a late shift. I swapped it so I could go to court.’
‘They were supposed to sort out an after‑school club. They can’t even do the simplest things.’ She stood up and went to the window. ‘I can’t drink that coffee, by the way.’ Her voice had changed, hard somehow. ‘I need something in it. I want you to tell me where my bottle is.’
‘No, Mum.’
Her mouth was a thin line as she twisted from the window. ‘Don’t look at me like that, Mikey. In case you’ve forgotten, I am actually your mother and this is my roof you live under, so can you go and get it, please?’
‘Mum, don’t do this.’
She glared at him. ‘I don’t have to see where you’ve hidden it. Put a splash in the coffee and hide it away again.’
He wished he had a brother. Even an older sister would be nice. Hundreds of sisters in fact, all older than him. They could take it in turns.
‘All right,’ he said. ‘Just one splash. A really small one.’
She looked so grateful, like some kind of desperate ghost, as he went to fetch the bottle from his room.
Twenty‑nine
After saying goodbye to Karyn at the door, they walked in silence down the stairs and across the courtyard. The main gate was shut so they had to climb it. Jacko swung over easily in one clean move.
‘Prat,’ Mikey said, to even things up.
Jacko grinned, licked a finger and held it out, like he’d scored a point.
Everything was making Mikey angry – Karyn and Jacko hooting with laughter about something while he was upstairs wrestling the sherry bottle back from Mum; the fact that they were going to be late for work and he’d be blamed, because Jacko had a perfect track record, so how could it be his fault? Even the air, hot and dry and full of food smells, was pissing him off. He hadn’t eaten anything all day. He’d wanted to get to the pub and have something before his shift started and now there wasn’t time. Everything felt wrong.
‘So,’ Jacko said as they got in the car, ‘Karyn’s on form. I’d forgotten how funny she is.’
‘Yeah, she’s hilarious.’
Jacko frowned as he turned the key in the ignition. ‘You want to tell me what the matter is?’
‘Definitely not.’
‘Come on, Mikey, what’s wrong?’
‘Nothing.’
They pulled away from the estate, past the newsagent’s, the laundrette. A man was standing outside with a plastic cup of something. He didn’t have a shirt on.
Jacko pointed at him. ‘Bet he’s put it in the washer.’
Mikey didn’t think it was funny at all.
‘Why did you say you’d take Karyn out for a drive?’ he said.
‘Why not?’
‘You fancy her?’
‘I was making her feel good.’
‘By coming on to her? Give me a break.’ Mikey shook his head, as if that was the most ridiculous thing he’d ever heard. He knew he was being a bastard, but he couldn’t stop.
Jacko said, ‘You need to look after her, that’s all I’m saying.’
‘You don’t have to help, Jacko. Really, no one’s asking you to.’
Jacko’s face clouded over. They drove past the post office, past Lidl, towards the edge of town. ‘Listen, man,’ he said, ‘I’m only telling you this because I’ve known your family for ever and I care about you. Ellie Parker’s got nice tits and no one’s popped her cherry, but she’s sending you right off track.’
‘We weren’t even talking about her, we were talking about Karyn.’
‘Same thing.’ Jacko eyed him steadily. ‘You’ve got to stop sniffing round that girl. I saw the way you looked at her in court. You’re losing it.’
‘I’m not losing anything. She was part of the revenge plan, that’s all.’
‘You keep telling yourself that.’
‘I will, because it’s true.’
Mikey wound his window down and stuck his elbow out, furious with Jacko. He was jealous. It was simple. Ellie was a cut above and Jacko wouldn’t stand a chance with her.
They drove in silence for a bit, past fields of pigs standing around in their own crap, past a farmhouse with a table outside, selling pots of jam and new potatoes. Mikey dug about in his pocket for his tobacco and made himself a rollie. He didn’t offer Jacko one. He didn’t seem to notice though, was humming along to some rubbish on the radio.
They were near the coast now. It was a long straight road. They passed a row of cottages with rabbits for sale, firewood, horse manure.
Mikey felt his chest clear as they got closer to the sea. The sky was cloudless. Blinding. He began to calm down.
He waggled the tobacco at Jacko. ‘You want me to make you one?’
‘Thanks.’
He made it nice and thick. He even lit it for him, which was a sign of something brotherly.
‘Maybe we should be lifeguards,’ Jacko said as he took the cigarette. ‘We always wanted to do that, remember?’
It was true, they’d always fancied it when they were kids. The lifeguards had a hut on the beach and a blackboard that said, YOUR LIFEGUARD TODAY IS… and then the names. They always had cool names – Troy, Guy, Kurt. They had regulation red shirts and they sat around looking at girls and occasionally moving flags and yelling at kids to get off the rocks. The tide came in from two directions, so the job did have some responsibility, and there was always something to look at – the skiboarders, the surfers. Sometimes a yacht would sail by, or three RAF planes would zip ridiculously fast along the horizon, followed seconds later by their sound.
‘What do you reckon, Mikey? We’ll get jobs as lifeguards if the cooking doesn’t work out?’
‘We could do that,’ Mikey agreed.
Jacko inhaled a chestful of smoke and blew it out. ‘You and me, man.’
Round the corner they swung a left, and there, sitting on the grass verge, were a couple of girls – map in hand, rucksacks, walking boots, the whole thing.
‘Hey,’ Jacko said as they drove past. ‘Let’s give them a lift.’
‘Let’s not, they look religious.’
Jacko laughed, put the car in reverse and roared back. He pulled in to the verge and leaned across Mikey to the window. One of the girls looked up, then the other.
Jacko swung his shades on to the top of his head. Seeing his eyes seemed to make them relax; one of them smiled, the blonde one. ‘Hi,’ she said.
‘You two lost?’
‘We’re fine, thanks. Just having a break.’
‘You’re looking at a map. You must be lost.’
‘Not really.’
The dark one looked down, said something in a low voice to her friend and she looked down too, tracing her finger across the map. Mikey watched them closely. He recognized something in the way they didn’t look up again. He’d seen it in Karyn before, how she could ignore something that was right in front of her and hope it would go away.
Jacko decided to give out names, obviously thought it might help. ‘He’s Mikey,’ he said, ‘and I’m Jacko.’
The blonde one smiled again. ‘And together you’re Michael Jackson?’
Jacko thought that was funny. The other girl did too; even Mikey found himself smiling. That was better. That was what you did with girls – you laughed at their jokes and made them relax.
‘So,’ Jacko said, getting his confidence up, ‘you want a lift then?’
The dark one said, ‘Actually, we’re OK.’ She stood up, hauled her rucksack onto her shoulders and held her hand out for her friend, who took it and stood up. ‘Nice to meet you,’ she said. ‘We’re going now.’
‘Don’t be like that,’ Jacko told her. ‘Come on, let us buy you a coffee. Or a beer. We work in a pub. Are you old enough for beer?’
The blonde one smiled again. ‘We’re old enough.’ Mikey could see she was tempted. But the dark one was wary, and she seemed to be in charge.
‘Leave it,’ Mikey said. ‘They don’t want to.’
‘Yeah, they do, they just need persuading.’
Jacko let the car slide away, down the lane, trailing them. They looked vulnerable walking away, easy to follow. So much to do with girls made Mikey feel guilty now – stuff on TV, porn lined up in the newsagent’s, song lyrics, page three of the Sun. He was aware of it all in a new way, and he really didn’t want to be. What was he supposed to do about any of it?
Jacko called out of the window to them. ‘Come on, ladies. Don’t ignore us.’
They were both pretty. Both nice girls.
‘Can you go away now?’ the dark one said.
Jacko tutted at her. ‘Be nice to us. We only want to give you a ride.’
She turned to him, her eyes flashing. ‘A ride? Piss off, you’re not even funny.’
‘You were laughing just now.’
‘Come on,’ Mikey told him, ‘let’s go, it’s not worth it.’
‘Yeah,’ she said. ‘It really isn’t.’
‘Don’t fancy you anyway!’ Jacko yelled out of the window, before roaring off, leaving them with thick black exhaust smoke.
Mikey slunk down in his seat. ‘You shouldn’t’ve done that.’
‘It’s your fault.’
‘My fault? How?’
‘You cursed us,’ Jacko said, stabbing a finger at Mikey. ‘You changed the rules of the universe when you fell in love with the enemy.’
Mikey slapped his hand on the dashboard. ‘I’m not in love with her. We talked about this.’
‘Then ask yourself why you haven’t told anyone about her, not Karyn, not your mum. Why the big secret?’
‘The plan didn’t work, did it? Sue opened her big gob so Ellie knew who I was, then she got her psycho‑brother to beat me to a pulp and now it’s over. What’s the point of telling Mum and Karyn that? They take the piss out of me enough as it is.’
Jacko grinned and Mikey wondered how he could see anything to smile about. ‘Well, then Sue saved you from yourself.’
‘I didn’t need saving. I had a plan.’
‘It was flawed.’ Jacko turned in his seat. ‘For days you’ve been at half mast – no girls, no drinks after work, no fun. If you’re sulking ‘cos you got mashed, then do something about it. We’ll go back with weapons if you like. We’ll take Woody and the others. We’ll get bombs and guns and kick his arse for good.’
Why couldn’t Jacko let it go? What an idiot. ‘It’s over, OK? I made a prick of myself. Ellie set me up and I’ll never see her again. So leave it, will you? There’s nothing to be done.’
Thirty
Ellie googled the word ‘rape’, but got the spelling wrong and brought up details of a sailing supplier that specialized in synthetic hemp. It made her smile for the first time in days. She changed ‘rope’ to ‘ripe’, expecting plums and tomatoes, but got some database reference manual instead, which made everything serious again. When she typed in the right word, she discovered that half of all girls experience some form of sexual abuse (from inappropriate touching to rape) before they are eighteen.
Everywhere, girls were being attacked. She made herself a jam sandwich and ate it looking out of the kitchen window.
Karyn was lying on her back, almost entirely covered by the duvet. She looked sweet, like she’d been tucked in. But when Ellie switched on the lamp…
No!
Ellie grabbed two packets of crisps and ate them quickly, one after the other, while she checked out the fridge and both food cupboards. Sometimes Tom hid his chocolate muffins somewhere other than the bread bin, but there was nothing. Maybe she could go out and get one? Morning had barely begun, but the bakery on the high street opened at six‑thirty She went to the hallway, pressed her ear to the front door and listened. Nothing. Even the wind, which usually whipped round the corner of the house and made the letterbox bang, was silent. She opened the door a fraction and checked along the length of the lawn in both directions. No one was about.
But there. What was that? A bird, with a splash of white on its chest, like milk on an oil slick. It swayed on the top branch of a tree in the lane and looked right at her. Was it a magpie? A jay? It cocked its head to one side and chuckled. It had little black eyes.
She waved a finger at it. ‘Hello.’
It tipped its head at her and opened its wings. She was amazed by a flash of purple, a totally mad colour for a bird – like something a king would wear to bed. She watched as it lifted itself into the sky, over the top of the house and away. She could hear its cry for ages. It gave her something to hold on to, something strangely reassuring.
She ran down the front steps and across the lawn. It was brilliant – both her legs worked, she didn’t get caught in a cyclone or struck by lightning, there were no crowds waiting at the gate with fists full of stones. She was making too much of it. It was totally obvious. In other countries there were wars. Right now, in some part of the world, someone was being burned alive in the street. And here she was, full of silly doubts about her brother – too freaked out to go to court and defend him.
As she came out of the lane and turned into Acacia Avenue, she noticed how wide the sky was overhead – not the grim little strip above the lane, but a whole street full of sky.
The world was beautiful.
She noticed everything as she walked – the daisies scattered on the grass verge, how they were still in shadow, waiting for the sun before they opened, like sleeping children. How the blossom hung so heavy on the cherry trees. The aeroplane, silver and tiny, glinting up there among a few wisps of cloud. Funny, she thought, to think of all those people strapped to their seats high above her head.
It wasn’t far. Only two more roads, past the church and round the corner. There was the bakery – its fluorescent strip winking – next to the charity shop, which was shut, next to the newsagent’s, which was just opening. The air smelled sweet.
A bell tinged as Ellie went in. A fat woman huffed up from a stool, clutching a magazine to her chest. She looked fed up. ‘Yes?’
There were iced buns and doughnuts, gingerbread men and biscuits shaped like stars covered in silver sprinkles.
‘Do you have any chocolate muffins?’
The woman pointed to a tray in the window. ‘We’ve got croissants. They’ve got chocolate in.’
‘OK.’
The tongs the woman unhooked from a place by the till were thick with sugar. How could they be used when the day was so new?
‘Just the one, is it?’
The woman was gasping from bending and straightening, from asking the question. Ellie felt bloated watching her.
‘Just one, yes.’
That’s what happened if you ate cake. You turned into a fat old woman. But before you got there, you turned into a girl like Alicia Johnson, who ate her packed lunch in the school toilets so no one could see how much she shovelled into her mouth.
These last weeks, Ellie had understood Alicia. But after this cake, she was going to stop cramming herself full of food. She was going to stand in solidarity with her brother and hold her head high.
‘Eighty‑five pence then.’
Ellie took the paper bag, collected her change and left. Ting. Into the street.
But there, right outside the door, was a dog. A big dog with a thuggish face and bowed legs like a cowboy. Its lead was looped through the railing, and as it strained towards her she cowered in the doorway.
Don’t let it jump. Don’t let it bite.
A man came out of the newsagent’s, folding a paper under his arm. He laughed, pummelled the dog’s flank with the flat of his hand and said, ‘He won’t hurt you, love.’
But when he untied the lead, the dog came sniffing – at the cake, at Ellie’s crotch, at her fingers. She stood there, frozen, and the man, still smiling, said, ‘He’s a big old softie.’
Why didn’t he think there was anything wrong with letting his dog sniff at her like that? She hurried back across the road. A car hooted. There were suddenly people everywhere – a man filling the newspaper dispenser, another man shouting up at a window. A car alarm was going off, a woman was singing somewhere far away. But it all seemed to be in slow motion, like all the muscle had gone from the world.
A boy crashed into her. Boots, jeans, hoodie, hands in pockets. He was walking fast, away from her now, but still, she hadn’t expected to see anyone. It had seemed an empty world and now it was full.
Imagine being Karyn. Imagine being out here and…
No, no, she didn’t want to be thinking about Karyn again! Ellie tried to remember the incantation she’d learned after she got bitten in Kenya and people stared at her scar – you closed your eyes and drew strength from the universe. You imagined a white tiger on an iron mountain. A burning red phoenix, a swimming blue turtle, a green dragon in a forest.
But you can’t walk down a street with your eyes shut thinking of dragons. And if you open your eyes, then you see all the crap – the fag ends and chewing gum flattened into the pavement, rubbish swirling everywhere.
My brother is innocent. There, that was a better spell. She muttered it a few times and kept her head down. It didn’t work for long. Thoughts of a broken bottle got in the way. And once that leaked in, other memories followed – Tom and his friends, fresh from the pub. Karyn drunk on a bed. Three boys standing around her and Ellie saying, ‘What are you doing?’
Just mucking about. Just a bit of fun.
Outside the electric gate, Ellie fumbled for the button to slide it open. At the door she fumbled for her key. Inside, she closed her eyes and leaned against the wall in the hallway. She counted to fifty, then went into the kitchen and shut the blind. She filled the kettle. There was a horrible moment when she thought there might not be coffee, but there was a fresh packet at the bottom of the fridge. She found a plate for her croissant – it was her favourite plate, decorated with anchors and white sailing boats. She made a coffee and sat at the table. The drink was hot, the first bite of croissant was sweet and good. Together, they made her cry.
