Текст книги "You Against Me "

Автор книги: Дженни Даунхэм

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‘Your brother knows a lot of people,’ he said.

She sighed. ‘Never underestimate the power of curiosity.’

‘Are any of your friends here?’

‘I didn’t invite anyone.’

‘You invited me.’

‘Apart from you.’

She slid a fraction further away to show her utter lack of interest. He smiled. This would be a breeze.

‘Where’s your boyfriend then? Is he here?’

She frowned. ‘Who?’

‘Just thought you’d be with someone. Looking like you do.’

‘No.’

Mikey inhaled, exhaled. He knew it was up to him to say something else, but most girls would’ve laughed when he mentioned a boyfriend, would’ve been flattered. Now everything that came into his head sounded fake. He sat and smoked and tried to work out what to do next.

It was solved for him – her phone rang and she stood up to fish it out of her pocket. ‘Tom, yeah, I did text you,’ she said. ‘Because I couldn’t see you anywhere, that’s why. This is madness. Do you even know half these people?’ She glanced back at Mikey only briefly before walking off down the slope. When she got to the fence, she opened a gate he hadn’t even known was there and disappeared through it. Now what did he do?

Across the grass, Jacko was talking to some bloke in a suit and tie. He was taking his responsibilities seriously by the look of it – nodding and smiling, asking questions, gathering information. Mikey felt his throat tighten. That Jacko would do this for him when it wasn’t even his fight – it was like having a brother.

He stood up, determined. He was going to walk across the grass and go through that gate and make Tom Parker’s sister talk.

As he crossed the lawn, he realized how massive this garden was. Holly would love to live in a place like this – so big she could have her own frigging football pitch. Beyond the fence was the river, so that gate must be a private entrance to it. He imagined him and Holly running down this slope to their boat, jumping in whenever they wanted and getting the hell out of this town.

The lights from the party didn’t reach the river, but he could still see the girl through the gate. She was off the phone now, standing there gazing across the water. A train was moving slowly along the tracks on the other side of the river. Its lights splashed the grass at her feet, her face lit up for a second and then went dark again. He’d envy this party if he was on that train – the marquee, the music, the enormity of the place. Funny how things could seem better from far away.

Before he even got through the gate she said, ‘You shouldn’t sneak up on people in the dark.’

‘I wasn’t.’

‘Yeah, you were.’

He shut the gate behind him. ‘What’s so interesting through here anyway?’

‘Nothing.’ She waved her hand at the water. ‘It’s a river. There was a train and now it’s gone.’ She turned to him. ‘As you can see, it’s totally fascinating.’

‘You should be careful,’ he said, ‘wandering about on your own.’

She didn’t even blink. ‘Is that supposed to be funny?’

Her eyes burned with something. Anger? Sadness? He had to look away. Karyn had eyes that deep. He swigged the last of his beer and chucked the empty bottle at the river. They both watched it – a dark missile, arcing against the sky before splashing into the water. Somewhere not far away, a duck called in alarm and then everything went quiet again.

Now what should he do? He wasn’t going to look at her again, that was for sure. He didn’t want to get to know her in that way, didn’t need bridges between them. He tried to remember the plan. He had to believe he’d come to this party for something. He was supposed to be getting information out of her, that was it. But before he could think of anything to ask, she nudged his arm and pointed across the water to the field beyond.

‘See the horses?’ she said. He hadn’t even noticed them – three of them beyond the railway line, marooned together under a tree. ‘Keep watching them. Watch by their feet.’

It made his eyes go funny to stare into the darkness. The field became dark blue and thunderous as he watched, although as he kept looking, the colours got less dense and the edge of his vision became ragged with grey. Then, from below the tree, a shadow moved, hesitated, moved again. A fox, low and sleek, stood exposed on the grass, one paw raised, before gathering itself and vanishing diagonally across the field.

‘See that?’ she said.

‘Yeah.’

She sighed, as if she was satisfied it existed now he’d seen it too. He glanced at her briefly, even though he’d told himself he wouldn’t. He noticed her scar again. She saw him looking, ran her tongue along it. ‘A dog bit me.’

‘Serious?’

She nodded. ‘I was on holiday and it came running out of the woods and jumped at my face. They thought it had rabies, but it didn’t.’

‘Rabies?’

‘We were in Kenya.’

The closest he’d got to Africa was Dex teaching him how to roast goat meat with garlic.

She peered at him. ‘Have you got any scars?’

Imagine she’s some girl in a pub, he thought, and make something up. It helped not to look. ‘I got shot once,’ he told her, ‘but it’s on my arse.’

She laughed for the first time and he felt ridiculously pleased with himself. ‘Some guy shot me five times at point blank range. You want to see?’

She shook her head, still smiling. ‘You were running away if he shot you in the arse. Which makes you a coward.’

Now that wasn’t an ordinary line – too quick‑witted. Again, he felt confused. He wondered about this girl. She wasn’t even drunk, not remotely, and there was loads of booze at the house. He decided to get back to the point.

‘Tell me about your brother,’ he said. ‘Tell me two things about him.’

‘I thought you knew him.’

‘He’s a friend of a friend really.’

She turned to him, frowning. ‘Why don’t we talk about you instead? Why don’t you tell me two things about yourself?’

If he had to give something away to get something back, then he would. ‘My special skills are cooking and kissing.’

She half smiled. ‘How do you know you’re good at them?’

‘I practise. What about you?’

‘I’ll swap cooking for swimming.’

‘And keep the other one?’

She looked at her feet, shy now. ‘Maybe.’

‘You like swimming? What’s your favourite stroke?’

‘Front crawl.’

He wanted to ask if she did competitions and stuff, if she’d ever won anything. He wanted to ask if she was genuinely good at kissing and did she want to prove it? But he wasn’t supposed to be chatting her up. He needed to concentrate and steer the conversation to something useful.

‘So, does your brother like swimming?’

She hesitated a moment too long. ‘I’d rather not talk about him, if that’s OK with you.’

Well, that shut him up.

He didn’t say anything else. Girls liked the sound of their own voices and she’d probably speak again in a minute. But he wasn’t going to. He wanted her to feel as stupid as he did.

While he waited, he looked at the way the river puckered in the breeze, dead leaves swirling on its surface. If he lived here, he’d be at this river all the time. He’d teach Holly stuff about it – the names of things and how to catch fish. He’d have to learn it himself first, of course, but that would be easy – he’d have a personal trainer, like people who joined a gym.

‘What are you thinking about?’

Her voice startled him. But this was a good question. It meant she fancied him. ‘I was thinking about you.’

‘Yeah, right.’

‘Serious. I think you’re gorgeous.’

She sighed. ‘Do you even want to have a proper conversation?’

He’d promised himself he wouldn’t, but he looked right at her again. ‘I was thinking about the river.’

‘What about it?’

‘I like the way it’s moving, how it never stops.’

She thought about that for a minute, then said, ‘Everything’s moving really. The forward momentum of the earth is sixty‑seven thousand miles an hour and the rotation is nearly two thousand miles an hour. We’re also spinning around the centre of the Milky Way at some rate I forget.’ She grinned at him. ‘I’ve been revising Physics. You probably think I’m a total geek.’

He shook his head. ‘Why don’t we feel it then?’

‘That we’re moving?’

‘Yeah. If we’re spinning about so fast, how come we’re not dizzy?’

‘Because our perspective doesn’t extend beyond our fixed surroundings.’

‘What?’

‘We only notice movement if it relates to what’s right in front of us. In a plane above the clouds you don’t notice speed because there’s nothing to compare it with, but on the ground as you take off, you can feel you’re going fast.’

He didn’t know what to say. Keeping quiet was probably best. He didn’t want her to know that he’d never been on a plane or that he didn’t quite understand what she was talking about.

‘Are you doing any sciences?’ she asked.

He wasn’t sure cooking would count, but he went for it anyway, told her he was doing an NVQ, with two days a week work experience attached. He didn’t know if such a course even existed, but it sounded cool. And because he wanted to impress her more, he took the bottle of whisky from his jacket pocket and held it out. ‘Look what I’ve got.’

‘Where did you get that?’

‘My mate. You want some?’

She shook her head, but he unstoppered it anyway, tipped the bottle back and took a long slug. Before he’d had time to swallow, she reached over and grabbed it from him. Whisky spilled down his chin and onto his jacket. He wiped his mouth, laughing. ‘You said no.’

She smiled prettily. ‘I changed my mind.’

He didn’t know what would happen next and he didn’t know what he’d do when it happened. He watched her sip. She grimaced as she swallowed, then passed the bottle back.

‘Listen,’ she said. ‘I should probably go back. They might wonder where I am.’

‘I’ll come with you.’

‘If you like.’

It was only as they went through the gate that he realized he hadn’t found out anything useful about her brother at all.

‘So,’ she said as they walked back up the slope. ‘How does your mate know Tom?’

She stopped walking and smiled. He knew she’d seen him falter. She leaned in to him, whispered, ‘You better get your story straight, because here he comes.’

Tom Parker came walking down the slope towards them. He was thinner close up, and looked younger. He had big blue eyes, like he wouldn’t hurt anyone. But Mikey knew his secret.

Tom smiled at his sister. ‘All right, Ellie?’

So that was her name.

He said, ‘Found someone to talk to in the end?’

She shrugged. ‘Whatever.’

‘Don’t be like that. I’ve been looking for you for ages. Where have you been?’

Ah, it was thrilling how close he was. He had designer stubble, a sore place at the side of his mouth, a spattering of freckles across his nose. If they were alone, Mikey would reach into his pocket for the spanner. He’d yank it high and slam it down on the bastard’s skull.

Tom frowned at the whisky in Mikey’s hand. ‘Where did you get that?’ He leaned right in and grabbed the bottle from him.

Mikey shot a glance at Ellie. She was smiling, or rather trying not to laugh. ‘Leave it, Tom. He didn’t know it was Dad’s.’

Tom waved it at them. ‘You know how much this is worth? Two hundred quid a bottle. I’m sorry, but this is definitely not for public consumption.’

Mikey wanted to say something funny, but couldn’t think of anything.

Tom turned to Ellie. ‘Who is  this?’

She hesitated. Mikey could hardly breathe, waiting for what she’d say. Finally, ‘He’s with me.’

Mikey liked that. All the tension coiled out of him, knowing she was on his side.

A boy came running up, pulled on Tom’s sleeve. Mikey saw he was desperate for something. ‘Your dad’s freaking out,’ the boy puffed. ‘Some bloke’s been asking questions about you and your dad thinks he’s a journalist.’

‘Where’s the bloke now?’ Mikey asked. He couldn’t help himself, knew this kid was talking about Jacko.

The boy shook his head. ‘Dunno. We chased him, but he got away.’

Maybe the relief showed on Mikey’s face, because Tom narrowed his eyes at him suspiciously. ‘If this is anything to do with you, you’re in big trouble.’ Then he spun off with the boy across the garden.

Ellie said, ‘My brother’s a bit wired tonight. Sorry.’

‘Yeah.’

‘He’s had a hard time.’

‘He should drink some of that whisky, help him relax.’

She didn’t say anything to that, but she eyed him steadily for a moment. He didn’t know what that meant.

‘I should go and see if they’re OK,’ she said. ‘If my dad’s freaking out, the party’s pretty much over.’

It was a disaster. Not only was she walking away, but Jacko had been chased out, which meant Tom Parker was going to escape a kicking for the second time.

‘Nice to meet you,’ she said.

He had to stop her. ‘Give me your mobile number.’

She turned round. ‘Why?’

Because he was supposed to be gathering intelligence. Because she was the best source. Because he could see the same anger simmering in her that he had in him and he wanted to know why. But what he said was, ‘I’d like to see you again.’

She frowned. Maybe she didn’t like him. They’d been laughing and it had seemed like it was going well, but maybe he’d read it wrong. The signs were probably different with girls like her. He kicked the dirt with his foot. She was making it difficult. She was making it seem real.

She pulled her phone from her pocket. ‘You give me yours instead.’

He reeled it off. It wasn’t what he wanted, but she shook her head when he asked for hers again. ‘I might change my mind in the morning.’

He gave her his best grin. ‘Why would you change your mind?’

She shrugged. ‘You can’t rely on anything.’

She looked sad for a minute and he thought he had to do something quickly. ‘I’d like to get to know you better,’ he said. ‘No kidding.’

‘Then maybe I’ll call you.’

He watched her walk back up to the house, all the doors open, all the windows blazing with light.

Eight

Ellie had followed all the rules of invisibility. She wasn’t wearing make‑up, not even mascara. She’d taken out her earrings, removed her necklace and tied her hair up neatly with an elastic. Her grey skirt was regulation length and her white shirt was buttoned to the top. She had no perfume on.

A yell from downstairs made her jump. ‘Hurry up, Ellie, we leave in five minutes!’

Maybe it would be all right. She gave herself a final look in the bathroom mirror, then opened the door and went downstairs.

Her mother clapped her hands to her face. ‘Oh, love, you look perfect.’

Dad and Tom looked up from their breakfasts and took it all in, from the flat‑heeled shoes to the thick black tights.

‘Very smart,’ Dad said.

Tom waved his fork in agreement, ‘Looking studious, kid.’

Ellie pulled on her cardigan and did the buttons up slowly. ‘You know everyone’s going to stare at me?’

Her mum gave her a doleful look, but didn’t say anything.

Tom said, ‘I wish I was doing something normal today.’

‘Well, why don’t you go instead of me?’

He pulled a face at her. ‘Very subtle, thanks.’

Ellie sighed, poured herself a juice and took a sip. Her mum stood at the end of the dining table wielding serving tongs. The platter in front of her was loaded with fried egg, sausage, bacon and mushrooms and next to it was a basket of croissants and pastries.

‘Anyone for any more?’ she said, and she snapped the tongs at the men like crocodile jaws.

Ellie frowned. ‘Why have you made all this food?’

‘Your mother’s feeding us up,’ Dad said. ‘We’ve got a conference with the barrister this morning.’ He had a notebook and pen in front of him, scribbled something down, then turned to Tom. ‘We need to get together a record of your academic achievements – everything you were involved in at school, everything at college. Clubs, prizes, that kind of thing. Extra‑curricular activities will go down well.’

Ellie reached for a croissant and spread it with butter. It was hardly a low‑fat breakfast, but if she thought of herself as a soldier going into battle, then the calories were justified.

Dad continued to scribble things down in his notebook. ‘The golf club tournament would count,’ he said. ‘You got through to the semi‑final in that, didn’t you, Tom?’

‘Quarter‑finals.’

‘Oh, well, that’s still something.’

It was like a war conference with maps and strategies. Ever since the arrest it had been the same, as if Tom had been diagnosed with some rare and terrible illness and they all had to concentrate on finding a cure. Nothing else was important.

Ellie dolloped a great heap of strawberry jam on the side of her plate, then broke off pieces of buttery croissant and dunked them in.

‘Hurry up, love.’ Her mum passed her a napkin. ‘You don’t want to be late on your first day back.’

Soon she’d be out there in the world, being driven down the lane to the main road, past the station, across the junction and into town. She’d managed to bunk Monday and Tuesday by claiming she had study leave, but then Dad had bothered to check the school’s website, so that wouldn’t wash any more. She tried to get out of it one last time. ‘Please, Mum, I don’t actually feel that well…’

Her dad shot her a glance. ‘School’s statutory, Ellie.’

‘Not if you’re Karyn McKenzie.’

A name so hot it made Tom blush. So hot her dad yanked his glasses off and waved them at her. ‘You’ve got nothing to be ashamed of, Eleanor, and that girl most certainly has, which is why she’s skulking at home. Now you go to school and you show everyone that.’

‘Like a sacrifice?’

‘No, like someone who’s done nothing wrong.’

‘It’s going to be horrible, with people taking sides.’

‘Well, then you’ll find out who your real friends are.’

He was referring to whoever had caused hundreds of pounds’ worth of damage to Tom’s car by scratching it up. He was also referring to the various people who hadn’t bothered showing up to the party. He’d gone on about their lame excuses for days – too much traffic on a Friday, no babysitter, too far to come from London, not enough notice. He hadn’t confronted any of it, said it was too upsetting to deal with. But now he wanted his daughter to go out and tackle the world.

‘You’re living your life vicariously through me,’ Ellie told him.

‘Good word!’ he said, pushing his glasses on with a smile and looking back down at his notebook. ‘Probably worth two marks in GCSE English.’

She turned to her mother. ‘Please, Mum.’

‘No, I agree with Dad. You’ve been stuck indoors for days and there’s no need for you to incarcerate yourself.’

Good word. How many points was that worth?

They’d obviously talked about it together and there was no dividing them. Ellie could see it in their eyes. Something premeditated and determined. She wiped her hands on the napkin and left the rest of the croissant on her plate.

‘Well,’ she said, ‘I better go then. I hope you two have a fabulous time with the barrister.’

She got a sad smile from her mum for that. ‘Come on,’ she said, ‘let’s get you out of here.’

As the car turned out of the lane into the main road, Ellie opened the window. There was a spring tang in the air, sunlight bouncing off everything. Primroses sprouted at the roundabout and in baskets at the bus stop. She liked this journey, down the side of the park, past the church. It was almost possible to believe she was going somewhere lovely and that good things might happen.

But the only good thing that had happened for days was meeting the gatecrasher. Ellie shut her eyes to remember him – his lazy smile, his swagger. She’d been angry all night about the stupid party, about getting into trouble for cutting Tom’s hair. Anger had made her confident, so when the boy came up to her, she hadn’t blushed or stumbled over her words, hadn’t minded about her scar. Standing in the half‑light by the river, she felt as if new things were possible.

What was it Tom said this morning on the landing? Be vigilant.

But being so suspicious of everyone took all your words away. Now it was spreading to actions. Twice she’d written the gatecrasher a text. Twice she’d deleted it without sending.

‘Do you know,’ she told her mum, ‘even in my dreams I’m careful.’

‘What I do  know is that I’m going to be late to see Tom and Dad off if I go round the one‑way system.’

‘Aren’t you going with them?’

‘I’m not needed, apparently.’

‘What will you do all day?’

She shrugged. ‘Usual things – tidy up, think about dinner. I might go over to Gran’s and do a bit more clearing out.’

‘I’ll come. You’ve been asking me to help clear the cottage for weeks. We could go to the beach after. It’ll be fun.’

‘Nice try, but you’re going to school. Can I drop you here? Are you all right to walk the last bit?’

She pulled over on the near side of the river. Ellie watched the water for a minute. It was dark and barely moving. Maybe she could dive in and turn into the mermaid Tom had talked about. She could splash about until it was time to go home, surrounded by ducks and soggy bread.

‘Lunch money,’ Mum said, and handed over ten pounds. ‘And there’s enough for a coffee after school with your friends. I’m sure Dad will understand if you don’t come straight home and revise today.’

‘I’m sure he won’t.’

‘Come on, love, don’t be so hard on him. He wants you to do well in your exams, but he understands you need time for your mates too.’

Ellie wanted to explain that she had no mates, that fitting in at new school was more complex than her mum could ever imagine, that having your brother accused of sexual assault was not going to make it easier. But she also wanted to keep the hope alive in her mother’s eyes.

‘Well, if I’m late back,’ she said brightly, ‘you’ll know where I am.’

She opened the door. She had to walk along the side of the river to meet the bridge. The school was on the other side – three lowlevel buildings, all glass and angles. There was the playground, washed with light, the high tangle of voices as kids walked towards it from every direction.

‘You think everyone’s going to stare?’ she said.

‘Of course not. But if they do, tell a teacher.’

‘You think assembly will be cancelled, so I can be hot‑seated in front of the whole school?’

‘Oh, love, I know this is hard, but you have to be brave. Do it for Tom, sweetheart. Keep thinking of him.’

She leaned across and kissed Ellie on the forehead. Maybe it shone silver, like the one the good witch gave Dorothy in The Wizard of Oz.

Ellie could do with that kind of magic.

Nine

‘Mikey, you awake?’

Holly stood in the doorway of his bedroom. He moaned softly, hoped it sounded like sleep. But she didn’t go away.

‘Mikey?’ She climbed onto the bed and lay down.

There hadn’t been a morning for weeks when he hadn’t woken up to some kind of crisis. He took a deep breath. ‘What’s up?’

‘Mum’s gone again.’

He struggled to sit up, rubbed his eyes. ‘Did she sleep in her bed?’

‘No.’

‘Did you look downstairs and out on the balcony?’

Holly nodded, curled her hand into his. ‘And I knocked next door.’

‘And they haven’t seen her?’

‘No.’

He sighed. He knew his mum was struggling with all this Karyn stuff, but it was only four weeks since the last time she’d done a bunk. He should have guessed last night, when she’d told him she was going to the pub for a quick one. Well, the quick one had obviously turned into something a hell of a lot longer, which meant she could be anywhere. With anyone. He fumbled for his mobile, but the only missed calls were from Jacko and Sienna. He scrolled through the contacts.

‘Don’t worry,’ he said. ‘We’ll call her, shall we?’

Holly snuggled closer to listen. The phone rang four times, then the message clicked in. Their mother’s voice apologizing for not being available.

‘Maybe she’s dead,’ Holly said, her voice quivering.

‘She’s not.’

‘She might be. You don’t know.’

‘I know everything, and she’s not dead, OK?’

He left a message, told her to ring and let me know where you are and when you’re coming back. Told her to do it soon, please.

‘That should do it,’ Holly said, like he could sort the world out that easily.

He turned to her, could just make out the shine of her eyes on the pillow beside him. ‘In five minutes,’ he said, ‘we’ll get up. Until then, you’re only allowed to think about nice things.’

‘OK.’ She craned her head to see the clock. ‘Can I think about football?’

‘Yes.’

‘I’ll do the alphabet game. I’m going to start with Ossie Ardiles, then Dimitar Berbatov, then Clemence, then Defoe.’

‘Great. Can you do it inside your head though?’

She lay there, her whole body flexing with thought. He could almost hear the calculations. And while she did that, he listened to his messages. Sienna sounding sulky: What happened to you last night? You wanna come round and make it up to me, ‘cos I know it’s your morning off?  Jacko sounding urgent: New plan! Let me know when you’re awake and I’ll come and pick you up.

Mikey sank back into the pillow and wondered if his life could actually get any worse – Karyn assaulted, the bloke who did it still unpunished, Mum missing and now pressure from women and mates. He closed his eyes and tried to distract himself by thinking about London. He’d work in a hotel. He’d wear a full set of chef’s whites and have proper equipment – ramekin dishes, loose‑based flan tins and specialist knives. He’d probably have other things too, things he didn’t even know existed.

Holly got stuck. He could feel it in her body, as if breathing was suddenly difficult to do. She turned to him. ‘Maybe Mum got hit by a car.’

‘She didn’t.’

‘Or she went in a boat and it sank.’

‘She didn’t do that either.’

‘Or a plane fell on her head.’

He told her to stop talking rubbish and get ready for school, she was already late. Then he took his phone to the bathroom and tried Mum again. Still no answer. He texted Jacko. He texted Sienna. Same message to both: Totally up for it. Whichever one got back to him first, that’s what he’d do. Runnings with Jacko. Between the sheets with Sienna. Let fate decide. He was sick of being in charge.

He stared in the mirror as he pissed. He looked angry. He washed his face with cold water, then brushed his teeth. The toothpaste had nearly run out and he added that to the list in his head.

When he came out of the bathroom, Holly was on the landing eating a packet of crisps. She was still in her pyjamas.

‘What are you doing?’

‘My clothes are in the bedroom and Karyn won’t let me in. I knocked, but she won’t answer.’ Holly stuffed another crisp in her mouth. ‘She’s probably dead too.’

‘Oh for God’s sake!’ Mikey rapped on the door.

He checked the time. School started at nine, which meant they only had five minutes to get there. They wrote your name down in a book if you were late.

He turned to Holly. ‘How much do you need the stuff that’s in there?’

‘A lot.’

He did a comedy knock to cheer himself up. Tappity tap, tap, tap. Then a police knock. Wham, wham,  with a closed fist. He tried to sound like he meant it, but Karyn wasn’t shifting.

‘You could kick it down,’ Holly said. ‘You’re allowed to do that in emergencies.’

He smiled at her. She smiled back. He’d forgotten how beautiful her smile was and because he didn’t want it to fade, he tried Open sesame  and Abracadabra!  from the stories she liked. Then he pretended to be a wolf who could blow the door down.

‘Let me in, let me in, by the hair on my chinny chin chin.’

It kept Holly smiling. But it made no difference to Karyn.

He leaned in, breathing on the paintwork. ‘Please, Karyn, talk to me.’

He told her he was her big brother and she should trust him, that he’d do anything to help her if only she’d open the door.

Holly hopped from one foot to the other and gave him the thumbs‑up as Karyn dragged a chair from under the handle. It was hot in the room and stuffy. Karyn slung herself on the bottom bunk, face down, her head hidden in pillows. She still had her tracksuit on. She’d been wearing it for days, had obviously started sleeping in it as well.

Holly marched straight over. ‘Why did you lock me out?’ She nudged at her sister with a bare foot. ‘It’s my room too. Just because something bad happened to you doesn’t mean you can do what you like.’

Karyn rolled over. She looked startled, like someone blinking into light after hours shut in the dark. ‘What did you just say?’

Mikey intervened. ‘All right, all right! Holly, get your stuff and go and get dressed.’

Holly gave Karyn a final shove, then picked up two school shirts from a pile of dirty washing on the floor and sniffed them. ‘They’re smelly.’

Mikey grabbed them from her and sniffed them too, checked them for dirt and passed the cleanest one back. He added washing powder to the list in his head.

Holly walked really slowly to the door, where she stopped, her hand on the door handle.

‘Get dressed, Holly!’

He knew she hated him shouting, but it made her speed up. She stuck her tongue out, slammed the door, thumped all the way down the hallway to the bathroom and slammed that door for good measure.

Mikey pulled a chair up next to the bed and sat down. ‘So, what’s up?’

Karyn looked at him, her face smeary with tears. ‘Mum’s gone.’

‘Yeah, I’m sorry.’

‘It’s me, isn’t it? I’m freaking her out.’

‘You know what she’s like – it doesn’t take much to frighten her off.’

‘It’s definitely me. She’s been drinking more since this happened, have you noticed? And sleeping loads.’

Behind her, through the window, he could see grass, litter, other flats. Weird to think that people with other lives were still under their duvets, pressing the snooze buttons on their alarm clocks and snuggling under for a few more minutes’ escape.

Karyn ran a hand across her face, wiping away fresh tears. ‘I’m trying to help as much as I used to, but I can’t seem to hold it together. Holly wanted her hair plaited just now and my hands were shaking so much, I couldn’t do it. How lame is that? I only shut her out so she didn’t see me upset.’

He checked his phone. No messages. Maybe he’d go round to Sienna’s anyway. She was always up for it.

‘You don’t want to listen to me, do you?’ Karyn said.

‘I don’t mind.’

‘You’re bored, I know you are.’ She pulled her knees up and hugged them. ‘Sometimes, I wonder if you even believe me.’

‘I’m going to get him for you, aren’t I?’

‘So you keep saying. Whacking him doesn’t prove anything though.’

‘It proves he can’t mess with us.’

Holly came back in and sat on the rug. ‘What’s going on?’

Mikey turned to her. ‘Holly, what the hell are you wearing?’

‘The other stuff was stinky.’

‘You can’t wear your Tottenham kit to school.’