Текст книги "You Against Me "
Автор книги: Дженни Даунхэм
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Ellie concentrated on trying to calm the nerves in her belly. It was as if something was stuck there and needed to come out. She looked around the garden at the empty tables and stacks of chairs, at the boxes of lanterns waiting to be hung, at the ladder leaning against the fence, and she wished more than anything that it could be just the four of them tonight – back in their old house, miles from here, with a takeaway and a DVD.
Mum nudged her, as if reading her thoughts. ‘It’ll be fine, Ellie, really it will. We’re getting our Tom back. Let’s try and be happy today.’
Ellie nodded, but couldn’t quite look her in the eye. ‘Mum, can I tell you something?’
Her mother’s smile died at the corners, her whole body stiffened. ‘You can talk to me about anything, you know that.’
‘Karyn McKenzie’s not taking her exams. In fact, she’s left school.’
They sat in awkward silence for a minute. Ellie gnawed on her lip. She should have kept quiet, but it was hard holding on to so many things. Sometimes the smaller ones slipped out.
‘I had a friend,’ her mother said, ‘who got attacked by two men and dragged into a car. She didn’t make it up, it really happened. It was terrible and brutal, but she used it as a turning point and changed everything about her life.’
‘What’s that supposed to mean?’
‘It means,’ her mother said, standing up and brushing nonexistent fluff from her trousers, ‘that you make your own luck. Now I’m going to talk to the marquee man. If you hear the car, shout for me. I want to be there when he arrives. And if you’re stuck for something to do, put some balloons up.’
Sometimes Ellie imagined Karyn McKenzie as monstrous – cloaked and hooded and laughing maniacally as she clawed Tom down into a sulphurous pit. In real life she knew she was tall and skinny with long dark hair and she lived on a housing estate across town. She fancied Tom, had done for ages apparently. She was clearly desperate for him to notice her that Saturday night, with her red‑hot nail varnish, purple lipstick and flaming orange mini‑skirt stretched tight around her thighs. At school she had a reputation for being good at Art and pretty much crap at everything else. It did seem crazy to give up your exams though – even a few GCSEs could lead to college and maybe a career of some kind. If you gave up in Year Eleven, then the whole thing slid away from you for ever.
A girl walked by carrying two silver tea trays. She was Ellie’s age, maybe a bit older, dressed in a black skirt and white shirt. She stopped in front of Ellie, said, ‘You’re the sister, right?’ She leaned forward conspiratorially. ‘What’s it like then? Must be weird for you.’ She was wearing a lot of make‑up.
Ellie said, ‘Haven’t you got work to do, or something?’ Then she stood up and walked round the side of the house to the driveway.
Sometimes it felt physical, as if walls were moving slowly towards her. Sometimes it felt psychological, a strange panic in her brain, which meant if she had to live in this nightmare for one more minute she’d self‑combust. The only way she knew to deal with it was to switch off and think of something else, which was becoming increasingly difficult. Walking away was a whole lot easier. She didn’t go far because she didn’t have a coat on, just up the gravel drive to the electric gate. She pressed the button, waited for it to slide open and stepped through. The lane was churned to mud and patched with dirty puddles, the first few daffodils trembled on the grass verge. The gate shut behind her.
This was the lane she watched from her window every night, wondering when Tom would come home. Trust me, his letter said. She’d wanted the words to take off from the page and circle the sky. Bold, neon words swooping low over town, skimming shops and houses before sweeping up the coast road to hang permanently above the sea. Trust me. And everyone would read the words and have faith. The court case would be dropped and they’d all go back to normal.
But faith was hard to hold on to. After twelve whole days and nights, Ellie was unravelling. She couldn’t sit, couldn’t stand, found it difficult to concentrate on anything. The day was moving quickly, every minute hurtling forwards; even the hours she’d spent doing revision had rushed by.
A cloud passed the sun then, and darkness came skimming down the lane, creating a dark pool of shadow at her feet. A dog barked from some neighbour’s garden and almost immediately the cloud shifted and the world glared so brightly that she had to shield her eyes. When she could see again, her dad’s car was cornering the lane. And, like a magic trick, Tom’s face was at the window, grinning at her.
Ellie whooped. She couldn’t help it, it came bursting out of her as the car drew near.
‘He’s here!’ she yelled, and her mum must’ve been close by, because she came running round the side of the house waving her clipboard.
‘Open the gate, Ellie, let them in!’
Here he was, like the Pope, stepping out of the car and into the garden. Mum ran to him, laughing, and he opened his arms to her. They swayed together for a moment as if they were dancing. Ellie was surprised at how tender it was.
She felt strangely shy of him as he looked over their mother’s shoulder and smiled at her, as if she’d become an adult in the last fortnight and this was her house and he was the guest. He looked different – thinner maybe.
Ellie said, ‘They let you out then?’
He laughed as he ambled over. ‘The police wanted to keep me, it’s true, but I told them I missed my sister.’ He put an arm round her and squeezed her for a moment. ‘You OK?’
She smiled. ‘I am now.’
His eyes slid back to the car, to Mum heaving his rucksack out of the boot, to Dad unloading the suitcase. It was the case he’d taken skiing. Strange to think it had been in an aeroplane and all the way to the Alps as well as to the young offenders’ unit in Norwich.
Dad wheeled it towards them. ‘Take a look over there, Tom, at what your sister’s done.’
Ellie felt embarrassed as her dad pointed out the banner strung along the fence. It had taken her three afternoons, but it seemed a bit cheesy now. She’d painted the four of them under a rainbow with a giant heart around them. At the top, she’d created a family coat of arms with the motto TOM PARKER IS INNOCENT. But the whole thing was beginning to rip at the corners where she’d tacked it to the fence. It looked more like a tatty old bed sheet than something she once cared about.
‘Took her hours,’ Dad said, and he gave Ellie a smile. It was the first time he’d looked directly at her for days.
Tom gave her a nudge. ‘It’s sweet, Ellie, thanks.’
Mum came up with Tom’s jacket in her arms, stroking it, smoothing it flat. ‘There’s a bit of a surprise round the back too,’ she said.
‘What kind of surprise?’ Tom looked suspicious and Ellie felt her pulse race. This hadn’t been her idea and she knew Tom might hate it.
‘Let’s get it over with,’ she said, and she led him round the side of house.
A marquee had blossomed on the lawn. The tables inside were lit with heaters, their chairs neatly placed around them. Plates, glasses and cutlery were stacked on a trestle table. This was where the food was going, and already the waitresses were laying out tablecloths and napkins. Up in the walnut tree, Chinese lanterns gently swung, and on every available fence post, strings of balloons tugged in the breeze.
Ellie watched Tom taking it all in. ‘It’s a party,’ she said.
He ran a hand through his hair. ‘I gathered that.’
‘You don’t like it, do you?’ She spun round to her parents. ‘I told you he wouldn’t like it. Didn’t I say?’
Her father’s face darkened with annoyance. ‘Shall we let Tom decide if he likes it or not, Eleanor?’
Mum put her hand on Tom’s arm. ‘Would you rather have no fuss?’
‘You’ve gone to loads of trouble,’ Tom said. ‘But what if I hadn’t got bail?’
Mum did a sort of punctured laugh. ‘Your father refused to entertain that possibility.’
‘Never a doubt,’ Dad said breezily. ‘I booked the caterers days ago, that’s how certain I was.’ He reached over and patted Tom on the back. ‘So, what do you reckon? Pleased with it?’
‘It’s fine.’ Tom took another look around. ‘You never know, it may even be fun.’
‘Good, well done.’ Dad beamed at him. ‘We’ve invited everyone who matters. We need to show the world you’ve got nothing to hide.’ He gestured to the suitcase. ‘I’ll take this upstairs, then I’ve got a few calls to make. You relax, Tom. You’re home and safe now.’
Mum laid her hand flat against Tom’s cheek. ‘I’ll take your jacket in, and check how things are going with the caterers.’
It was weird how they kept explaining themselves – they’d been doing it since Tom got arrested. I’m just popping into the office. I’m going upstairs to see if I can grab some sleep. We’ll be with the lawyer for a while. It was as if they thought they’d disappear if they didn’t say where they were.
‘What are you two going to do?’ Mum said.
Tom smiled. ‘We’ll find something.’
Five
The spare room was pink with flocked wallpaper. Ellie and her mum hadn’t been able to do anything about that, but they’d got Tom a new mattress and changed the curtains. They’d put the portable TV up on a wall bracket and spread DVDs and books along the shelf.
Tom stood in the doorway and shook his head at it. ‘I feel like a guest.’
It was gloomy inside and Ellie snapped on the light. ‘Didn’t Dad tell you?’
‘Probably.’ Tom crossed to the bed and sat down, smoothed the duvet with his hands. ‘I don’t listen to half the stuff he says.’
‘Well, he tried to get the police to take the lock off your bedroom door, but everything seems to take so long. It’s all new though, the duvet and everything. Me and Mum went shopping.’
‘I always think of Gran when I see this room,’ he said. ‘All those pills she had and how crazy she was.’ He looked about, wrinkled his nose. ‘It still smells of her in here.’
‘We put the commode in the loft, so it shouldn’t. Open the window.’
‘Does she know about me?’ He shot Ellie a glance. ‘Or is it too shameful?’
‘She barely knows her own name. I think they’re waiting to see the outcome before they tell her anything.’
‘The outcome? Christ, you sound like Dad.’ He reached into his pocket and found his cigarettes, walked to the window and opened it.
Ellie watched him light a cigarette and pull smoke hard into his lungs. It was like fingers down chalkboards or forks over plates. The desperation of it. She wanted to cover her ears, look away. But instead, she sat and watched him inhale and exhale three more times. Finally, he turned to her.
‘I’m sorry, Ellie. I shouldn’t take it out on you.’
‘It’s OK.’
‘Dad’s driving me nuts. He fired the lawyer who mucked up my first bail application and got some top‑notch bloke instead. He doesn’t trust him though, talks to him as if he’s a kid fresh out of law school.’
‘He wants the best for you.’
Tom smiled grimly at her. ‘It’s embarrassing.’
‘It’ll be over soon.’
‘You think? According to the top‑notch guy, it’s only just begun.’
He blew the last smoke out into the garden, then tossed the butt after it. ‘You want to do something exciting?’
‘OK.’
‘Good. Wait there.’
He wasn’t gone long, came back with the hair clippers and planted them in her hand. ‘Cut it all off.’
She was stunned. ‘All of it?’
‘Short back and sides. I don’t want it long any more.’
‘I don’t know how to use them. I’ve never done it before.’
‘It’s easy, like cutting grass.’
He set up a chair in the corner of the room by the mirror, then spread newspaper on the floor.
‘Will you be angry if I get it wrong?’
Tom ripped off his T‑shirt. ‘Promise I won’t. Anyway, I’ve got no choice. The nearest barber is in the high street, and my bail conditions don’t let me anywhere near it.’
He straddled the chair and Ellie stood behind him, wielding the clippers. Their eyes met in the mirror.
She said, ‘This is the most dangerous thing anyone’s ever asked me to do.’
He laughed. ‘Then you’ve led a very sheltered life.’
But it had taken Tom ages to grow his hair. It was what defined him, how people described him. Tom – you know, the boy with all that blond hair. That he wanted it gone was scary. That he’d chosen her to do it, that the bedroom door was shut, that it was private – these were the things that made it feel dangerous.
‘Honestly, Tom, I don’t think I can. What if I take off too much and you end up a skinhead?’
‘Please, Ellie, before I change my mind.’
She held up a long strand of hair, but hesitated with the clippers. ‘You might change your mind? What if you do?’
‘I’m kidding. Just do it.’
Handful after handful fell to the floor and onto her bare feet. It drifted beyond the newspaper, driven by the breeze from the window, and piled up in the corner like a nest. His face changed as the hair fell. His eyes looked bigger, his ears appeared, the back of his neck became vulnerable. It was as if she was exposing him.
‘You look younger,’ was all she said when he asked why she looked sad. And when he wanted to know what was sad about being young, she told him that actually she was glad to be cutting his hair because she’d always been jealous of how good he looked with it long…
‘I want your metabolism too,’ she said. ‘You get to eat whatever you want and look like a stick, but I eat one chocolate and I turn to pudge. How come you get all the luck?’
He shook his head. ‘You don’t even know, do you?’
‘Know what?’
‘How pretty you are. Everyone says so.’
‘Everyone?’
‘You know what my mate Freddie calls you?’
She shook her head, slightly afraid.
‘Mermaid, that’s what.’
‘That’s not even a compliment. Mermaids just sit about on rocks all day.’
He laughed. ‘They’re not easy, that’s the point. No one gets to shag a mermaid because they don’t let you.’
Ellie thought it was more to do with the fact that they had nothing below the waist but a tail, but maybe she was wrong about that, so she didn’t say anything. Instead, she turned the attention back to him, because despite everything, she loved him and he needed to know that. As she clipped the hair round his ears, she quietly recited a list of all the nice things he’d ever done for her.
It included everything, from drawing pictures for her to colour in (which was years ago), through starting school (when he let her hang out with him in the playground, even though she was two years younger and a girl). Right up to the holiday in Kenya when the dog tried to bite her a second time and he stood in the way (which was the most heroic thing anyone had ever done for her).
‘Before we moved house,’ she said, ‘whenever my friends came round, you’d always hang out for a bit and talk to us. If we ever saw you in town, you’d wave or come over and chat, like you were genuinely interested. No one else’s brother ever bothered. I’ve always been proud of you for that.’
He smiled up at her. ‘You say the sweetest things.’
‘Well, you do the sweetest things. You made that speech at my sixteenth birthday saying how I was the best sister in the world, remember? And when I did that stupid leaving concert at school, you clapped loudest even though I was total rubbish and forgot all my words.’
Tom laughed as she reminded him of these things. It was great. Everything pulled together. He told the story of the summer they’d gone camping in southern France and the site was dull, dull, dull. The swimming pool was shut and the entertainment was rubbish and the only good things were the pâtisserie and the kites they’d bought from the shop.
‘We found that hill,’ he said, ‘you know the one? We flew the kites from the top and when we got bored we rolled all the way down and ran back up again.’
Ellie was amazed he remembered. She could have cut his hair for hours then. She loved how cosy it was together in the spare room, how she could hear the vague sounds of people setting up the party, their voices low and far away. It gave her courage. ‘Can we talk about what happened that night?’
He swung round on the chair to look at her. ‘Really? Can’t I just have a break?’
Ellie lowered her eyes. ‘There are things I don’t understand.’
He frowned at her. ‘Have you been talking to anyone?’
‘Not really.’ Ellie had a drifting sensation, as if this conversation was surrounded by smoke. ‘I haven’t been back to school yet.’
There was silence as they looked at each other. ‘If I go down, Ellie, it’ll be the end of everything for me.’
‘I know.’
‘There are guys in there…’ His voice trailed off and he shook his head as if he’d seen the most unspeakable things. ‘It was the longest two weeks of my life.’
There was something in his eyes. Their dark shine reminded her of the autumn he broke his arm, how he sat on the football field and howled with fury, because he had to miss the whole season and he’d only just made the team. She looked away.
‘There,’ she said. ‘I’ve finished.’ She stroked her hands over his hair, smoothing flyaway strands. ‘It’s cute.’
‘Cute?’ He rubbed his own hand over his head. ‘That wasn’t quite what I had in mind.’
‘What did you want to look like?’
‘Innocent.’ He smiled at her in the mirror. ‘Inoffensive and above suspicion.’
She sat on his bed and watched him dust the hair from his shoulders with his T‑shirt. He sprayed deodorant under his arms, splashed aftershave onto his hands, rubbed them together then smoothed his palms across his face.
‘Will I have to go to court and answer questions?’ she asked. ‘Or will they just read out my statement?’
He ignored her, pulled on his new stripy T‑shirt. She’d chosen it for him with Mum last week and it still had the label on. He ripped it off and passed it to her. ‘Recycling,’ he said.
She put it in her pocket. ‘Did you hear me?’
He fiddled with his shirt, straightening it in the mirror. ‘You were the only other person here the whole time, which makes you the primary witness. You’ll definitely have to go to court.’
Her stomach gripped. ‘They can’t make me say anything.’
‘They can’t make you say anything if you didn’t see anything.’
She nodded. She felt a mixture of pity and fear as she looked at him, because the thought of what she should or shouldn’t say made her feel scared. She’d been worrying about it for two weeks. It had been so bad one day that she’d fantasized that a nuclear bomb had gone off and she was the only person left alive. In the fantasy, she’d wandered about opening and closing doors, stirring up dust, picking things up and putting them down. It had been so peaceful.
She gnawed at her lip again. ‘When the police interviewed me, I told them I went straight upstairs to bed when you brought everyone back.’
‘Well, that’s fine then.’
She blushed at the memory of scrambling up from the sofa in her slippers and pyjamas. Karyn and her mate Stacey glittered, surrounded by boys, fresh from the pub. They smiled down at her, told her she should stay and talk to them. But she knew by the look on her brother’s face that he wanted her safe upstairs, and she felt such an idiot making an excuse about having a headache.
‘The other thing I told them,’ Ellie said, ‘was I looked out of my window later and saw everyone outside.’
Tom turned from the mirror and blinked at her. ‘I didn’t know that.’
‘I just said everyone looked like they were having a good time and you and Karyn had your arms round each other.’
‘What did you say that for?’
‘Because the police need to know she fancied you. Was that wrong?’
‘It’s OK,’ he said. ‘There’s no need to get upset. It’s me they’re going to grill, not you.’
‘She was flirting with you all night though.’ Ellie curled her fists tight and pinched her thumbnails into her palms. ‘I bet when you went into the bedroom to get the sleeping bag, she just pulled you down on top of her, didn’t she?’
Tom winced. ‘It’s not something I’m proud of, Ellie, but yeah, that’s pretty much what happened.’
She nodded. ‘I thought so.’
He pushed the chair back under the desk. ‘You reckon we can stop talking about this now? A sad little shag with a crazy girl is a bit humiliating to discuss with my sister. Maybe we should go downstairs and see if they need any help.’
He wrapped the newspaper into a parcel and put it in the bin. Ellie picked up the handful of hair from the corner and did the same. She was an idiot. It was horrible for him to be reminded of that night when he was supposed to be feeling safe with his family.
‘Are you going to dress up?’ he said. ‘Team Parker and all that? Best foot forward.’
He was trying to make her laugh. This was how their father would speak.
‘All hands on deck,’ she said, because she wanted to give him something back.
He patted her quickly on the head. ‘Don’t forget.’
Another expression from their father. Don’t forget who you are.
Don’t forget whose side you’re on.
Six
They parked the car by the river and walked up the lane to the house, Jacko still feeding Mikey last‑minute bits of information from Tom Parker’s Facebook page. Jacko had checked it out on the computer at work and now they both knew the bastard liked golf and sleeping and that all the friends on his page were girls.
‘His favourite celebrity’s Vin Diesel,’ Jacko said, ‘though I don’t think we need to let that worry us, because he also likes Where’s Wally?’ He snapped his fingers, laughing. ‘We’re gonna take him easy!’
But at the gate, even Jacko was silenced. They stood openmouthed, taking it in. The house was lit up like Christmas, with fairy lights strung in the trees and torches with real flames staked along the path.
Jacko whistled. ‘Man, they’ve gone to town!’
‘They’ve got no shame. I told you.’
The place seemed even bigger than before. There must be at least five bedrooms and the lawn wrapped itself round the whole house. There were flowers that showed up their colours even in the dark, like flowers from a shop stuck in the earth. The windows seemed bigger too, all glaring with light. They obviously didn’t worry about heating bills, could just chuck cash away, probably had radiators at full blast and doors open and everything on standby all night long. There was a confidence to it that Mikey admired and hated at the same time – how come some people had so much? How come some kids got this for free?
‘You think they’ll suss we don’t belong?’ he said.
Jacko screwed up his forehead and looked offended. ‘We belong everywhere.’
‘What about the scratched‑up Jag? You think they’ll know it was me?’
‘Nah, plenty of people hate the guy. Just keep the spanner out of sight.’ Jacko drew in a last chestful of smoke before chucking his fag on the gravel. ‘Right, remember what we said? First one to see him sends the other a text, then we reconvene for phase two.’
Mikey checked his mobile. He supposed it was some kind of plan.
Jacko went first, straight through the front door and inside like he knew the place. Mikey made his way round the side, following a trickle of guests just arriving. Round the back of the house, the garden opened up. It felt different from the front, almost tropical, with heaters belching out hot air and the grass still wet from the rain.
There were masses of people – adults as well as kids standing in groups on the lawn, others sitting at tables in a marquee with drinks and plates of food. Mikey was stunned by the effort that had gone into this.
He grabbed a beer from a woman with a tray and knocked half of it back. He wondered if anyone from school would recognize him. It’d been two years since he left and these kids were the ones who went on to college, so it was unlikely. He took another gulp of beer and tried to concentrate. Find Tom Parker, that was the plan. Tell Jacko when he had.
There was a group of boys sitting at one of the tables, there were more queuing for food, another group swigging beer over by the fence. They all had that posh look Mikey was expecting to find, but none matched the pixellated photo Jacko had shown him in the car.
He walked round the garden once, a whole circuit. Music pumped out from speakers, the leaves on the trees shivered, the grass thumped under his feet. He hated all these people in their smart clothes, with their wine and champagne. He thought of his sisters at home – Holly drawing crazy pictures with colours like mud and grey. Karyn trying to make dinner with no food in the house. Mum asleep. These people didn’t care about his family at all. They were here to support Tom Parker. In fact, they were probably laughing at Karyn. Whispering about her, nudging each other. It was unforgivable.
A girl wobbled by on very high heels. She was drunk, he could see that.
‘Hey,’ he said, ‘I’m looking for Tom Parker. You know him?’
She stopped and smiled. Her eyes were dark and drawn round the edge in blue. ‘Who are you?’
He couldn’t stumble at the first hurdle. ‘Joe.’ He had to be someone other than himself and he knew he’d never see her again.
‘You’re very good‑looking.’
‘So, do you know where Tom is?’
She waved her arm in the vague direction of the house. ‘Somewhere. How do you know him?’
‘College.’ Second time today and it was beginning to sound true.
She leaned in to him as if she had a secret. ‘You want to kiss me?’
‘Not really.’
She laughed, puckered her lips and moved in closer. ‘I bet you do.’
He looked about, but no one was taking any notice. He could pick her up and carry her off. He could drag her behind the marquee where it was dark and do whatever he liked to her. He could say she wanted it, that she asked for it.
‘Come on,’ the girl said. ‘Kiss me then.’
Was this how trashed Karyn was that night?
He nudged her off. ‘I don’t want to.’
She looked insulted. ‘Don’t you like me?’
He gave her a peck on the cheek to shut her up. Her skin tasted expensive. He told her he’d see her later, though he’d run if he saw her coming. He waved her off and fumbled for his phone. He couldn’t do this. He shouldn’t be here. This was the stupidest idea he’d ever had.
Just as he was texting him, Jacko appeared. ‘Target located,’ he said.
‘What?’
Jacko nodded at a tall boy loping across the grass towards a group of men. ‘I’ve been tailing him for five minutes. It’s definitely him.’
Tom Parker looked like a tosser – shirt and tie, schoolboy hair, shaking hands with all the adults. Looking at him made Mikey want to puke, made the knot in his gut tighten.
‘Let’s get him.’
But before he could move, Jacko caught him, said, ‘Whoa! That’s not the plan.’
‘Bollocks to the plan!’ Mikey tried to shake him off. ‘Let go of me. I’m sick of this.’
‘You whack him now, you’ll get arrested,’ Jacko hissed. ‘How’s that going to help Karyn?’
Mikey shoved him off. ‘It’s gonna help me!’
A woman walked past and looked curiously at them. ‘Hello,’ she said. ‘Everything all right?’
‘Perfect,’ Jacko said, putting his arm round Mikey and reining him in. ‘We were just saying what a lovely evening for a bail bash.’
The woman moved away, frowning slightly.
Mikey shrugged Jacko off again. ‘I hate this place.’
‘I know, I know.’
‘I hate him too. Look at him – surrounded by suits and still untouchable. He’s getting away with everything!’
Jacko sighed, opened his coat, pulled out a bottle and passed it to Mikey. ‘I also located the drinks cabinet. I think you’ll find this twenty‑five‑year‑old malt whisky will clear your mind.’
Mikey took three long gulps. It flamed in his throat, warmed his belly. It was good to sink inside the feeling that somehow this was all going to work out. He took another gulp, and another.
Jacko smiled. ‘Better?’
Mikey nodded. He was thinking of his mum with her morning Valium. For the first time he understood why she talked about taking the edge off the terror.
‘He’s the centre of attention,’ Jacko said, ‘so we need to stay calm and move on to phase two.’ He winked. ‘You get to do what you’re best at, Mikey, and talk to girls. We need tactical intelligence – does he do martial arts? Is he left or right‑handed? Has he got brothers and are they here? The usual stuff. I’ll keep a visual and gather data as I tail him. We both need to suss out the best location for phase three – preferably somewhere dark and quiet with good escape routes.’ He checked his watch. ‘We’ll reconvene on this position in an hour.’
Mikey felt momentarily dizzy. He rubbed his eyes. It would be great to pretend this was an ordinary night, that they’d crashed some random party, that he was here on the pull.
Jacko pressed the whisky bottle on him. ‘Keep this, it’s doing you good. Think of the Vikings, Mikey. Free booze. Posh birds. We’re here to plunder.’
Mikey shook his head as Jacko walked backwards away from him. ‘The Vikings?’
‘Yep. And don’t worry, the face‑to‑face thing’s gonna happen. We’ll perforate him at the end, when it’s quiet.’ He tapped a finger to his head. ‘Stay frosty.’
Mikey took another swig of whisky and watched the clouds. Soon it would rain again. A downpour would be good – wet people rushing back to cars, the whole party ruined. Tom Parker would be left alone. An easy target.
Mikey scanned the lawn, looking for him, but he’d gone now, the circle of men broken up. There was the drunk girl again, moving slowly along the fence, staring at her own feet. She wouldn’t be any help.
But there – who was that? On the bench, underneath that tree. Lanterns swayed above her, people everywhere, and her simply sitting there, the one still point. Mikey put the whisky in his pocket, plucked two beers from a waitress and smiled. He knew this girl. She’d opened the door to him earlier. She was Tom Parker’s sister.
Seven
When he got to the bench, she looked up, but didn’t smile.
‘Mind if I sit down?’ he said.
She shrugged, as if she didn’t care either way, and slid along to make room. He put the beers on the bench between them. ‘One of these is for you.’
‘No thanks.’ Her voice was softer than he remembered.
He took out his tobacco and rolled a thin one, offered it across. ‘Smoke?’
She shook her head.
‘So,’ he said, ‘not in a party mood then?’
‘Not particularly.’
‘Missing revision?’
He meant it as a joke, but she didn’t get it. ‘It’s not that, it’s just, I never expected it to be so…’
She let the sentence drop.
A group of girls cheered as some Lady Gaga song suddenly blared from the speakers outside the marquee. They started dancing, singing along to the words and pointing their fingers at the sky. A couple of boys stood watching and one of the girls wiggled her arse at them. Adults stood about on the grass, leaning towards each other in deep conversation. It was like there were two parties happening at once.
