Текст книги "You Against Me "

Автор книги: Дженни Даунхэм

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Текущая страница: 8 (всего у книги 17 страниц)

But, really, she knew how that kind of day would work out, and it didn’t solve anything. At least if she stayed at home, everything would be different by the time her parents got back.

Twenty‑one

When Mikey walked into the lounge, his mum switched off the vacuum cleaner to admire him. Holly and Karyn looked up from their game of Snakes and Ladders and wolf‑whistled simultaneously.

He laughed. He had on his new T‑shirt and favourite jeans. He’d shaved, showered and even used mouthwash. He knew he looked good and gave a male‑model strut across the carpet to prove it.

‘Look at my son,’ Mum said. ‘Look at my gorgeous boy.’

‘Who’s it today, then?’ Karyn asked as she shook the dice and threw them on the table. ‘’Cos that’s more effort than most of them get.’

She gave him that cheeky half‑smile he’d forgotten about and he felt a bit bad then. But there was no way he could tell her about Ellie, not until he’d got all the information he needed. She wouldn’t understand.

Holly reached for his hand, tucked her own into it. ‘Where will you take her?’

‘Don’t know yet. Out and about.’

He sat at the table and watched them play. Karyn was going down ladders as well as snakes to let Holly win. She winked at him when she clocked he’d noticed.

Mum switched the vacuum back on and they pulled their knees up so she could get to the spaces under their feet. It made Mikey feel like a kid.

‘I’m going to buy some new cushions,’ Mum yelled over the noise. ‘They’ve got some nice ones in the market with embroidery on. New cushions would look lovely in here, don’t you think? And maybe a rug.’

Mikey nodded in agreement, then checked the clock. Twenty minutes to go. He tapped his pocket for the car keys. He felt crap lying to Jacko, but there was no way he’d have lent him the car and agreed to postponing the golf‑club recce a second time if he hadn’t.

‘There are things they look for,’ Mum said as she switched off the vacuum and coiled the lead up. ‘They look for dirt, but they also look for smells. I’ve had the windows open all morning and I got one of those plug‑in air fresheners.’

She stood, hands on hips, pleased with herself.

‘It’s been like zero degrees with those windows open and she wouldn’t let me shut them,’ Karyn said, her eyes amused.

Mum smiled across at her. ‘You’re cold because you don’t eat enough, and that’s what’s happening next – toast.’

Karyn packed the game away and got Holly some paper and pens instead. Mum made four cups of tea and buttered some toast, even spread it with jam and cut it into squares. She placed Karyn’s plate gently on the table in front of her.

‘It’s ages since I saw you eat anything,’ she said.

Karyn sighed with pleasure and picked up a square of toast. Easy as that.

She looked happier than Mikey had seen her for days. He knew why. She thought every day was going to be as cheery as this from now on. She thought Mum would save her.

It was easy to believe as they sat there together, sipping their tea and eating toast. Things had been better since Gillian’s visit on Monday. Mum had sobered up and collected Holly, then phoned the social worker to apologize. Monday night, she’d sat down with the three of them and promised never to disappear like that again. ‘Everything’s going to be different from now on,’ she said.

Over the last four days she’d spring‑cleaned the hallway, the lounge and the kitchen. The whole flat was beginning to look bigger and brighter. Over the weekend she planned to work her way upstairs. Mikey knew what would happen then. She’d fill dustbin bags with old toys and clothes. She’d get ridiculous with it, start throwing things away that people still wanted. Mikey remembered his denim jacket going that way last year, and Holly weeping for hours over her football card collection. Next week, if Mum still hadn’t run out of energy, she might get the local paper and look for jobs. She’d circle them, maybe cut them out and put them in a pile somewhere. And then she’d start saying stuff about how they all took her for granted, how nothing good ever happened to her. And then she’d give herself a little reward – maybe a cheap bottle of red from Ajay’s over the road. ‘Just the one,’ she’d say.

And round and round they’d go again. It was so predictable.

‘OK, Mum,’ he said, ‘a little test before I go. Monday morning. Ding‑dong,  there’s the social worker again, all smiles, wanting to help. You’ve been cleaning for days and in she comes, very impressed. First question: Why has Holly been off school?’

‘She won’t ask me that.’

‘She might. What will you say?’

‘I’ll say she was sick.’

‘What was wrong with her?’

‘She had a headache.’

‘Kids don’t get headaches.’

Mum moved the ashtray a centimetre to the left, matched the lighter with the edge of the table, making patterns. ‘It’s all right, I can handle it. I told you, it’s going to be different now.’

‘Tell them a fever and a cough, or that she kept throwing up. Not a headache. And don’t smoke in front of her.’

He knew how important his mum’s fags were, how they kept her calm. He knew he was being unkind.

‘Stop worrying,’ she said. ‘It’s only a support visit, nothing else. I’ll sit by the window. I’ll tell her I never do it with Holly around.’

‘Show her the smoke alarm,’ Holly said, pointing up at the ceiling with the end of her felt‑tip pen.

Mikey followed her gaze. Sober for days, and a tidy flat was one thing, but a fully‑installed and working smoke alarm was definitely something new.

Mum grinned at him. ‘You’re impressed.’

He couldn’t help smiling back.

She glanced at the clock. ‘Go and have fun, Mikey. Go on, you’ve done enough.’

He checked his mobile. No new messages, but that was OK. It was all agreed. Two‑thirty at Ellie’s house. He’d leave in a few minutes.

‘Like my drawing?’ Holly said.

She held it up for them all to see. It was Karyn, outside with her hair streaming behind her in the wind. She was holding a piece of string with a dragon on the end and a flaming sword.

‘Nice picture,’ Karyn said.

Holly smiled, carefully tore the page from her book and laid it on the table. ‘I’m going to draw you at school next.’

‘Let me keep the dragon,’ Karyn laughed. ‘I’ll need it if you’re sending me back there.’

Mikey took the plates to the kitchen, had a quick look in the fridge while he was there. It was stuffed – juice and yoghurts, cheese and milk, all sorts. Mum had even bought a pack of bacon and some sausages.

By the time he’d washed up the plates, all three of them were huddled together on the sofa watching a re‑run of TopGear ‑  some mountain climber was talking about how he got frostbite and later, after surgery, he had a very hot bath and his toe came off and he left it on the side of the sink for his wife to find. They cackled like witches at it. Mikey smiled, wanted to leave them with something. He went over and put ten quid on the table.

‘Here,’ he said, ‘get yourselves a DVD and some sweets.’

You’d think he’d given them a fortune, the way they passed it between them.

He almost didn’t want to leave. It wasn’t that long ago when this would have been his idea of a perfect Saturday afternoon and he’d happily have squeezed in with them on the sofa.

‘I’ll be off then.’

Mum raised her cup of tea. ‘Have a lovely time.’

Twenty‑two

Ellie blushed, actually blushed, when she opened the door. Mikey wanted to sweep her up and kiss her, but he had to save that until they were safely away from the house.

‘Ready?’ he said.

She smiled apologetically. ‘Not yet. I haven’t made the picnic.’

‘We’ll get fish and chips.’

She wagged a finger at him. ‘Every adventure has a picnic. Come inside, it’ll only take a few minutes.’

‘Why don’t I wait in the car?’

She shook her head. ‘There’s nobody home, don’t worry.’

What choice did he have?

When Ellie closed the door behind them, a dim blue light shone through the coloured glass and splashed the floor. There were paintings on the wall and a statue on a stand – a man and a woman wrapped together. Mikey touched it with a finger, surprised at how smooth it felt.

‘It’s not real,’ Ellie said.

He pulled his hand away, embarrassed.

‘It’s a copy. Well, of course it’s a copy. No one has a real Rodin.’

He nodded, as if that was obvious, mentally cursing himself for knowing nothing about anything.

She led him through a sitting room – sofa, chairs, display cabinet full of family photos (Ellie looking sexy with a swimming trophy) – through to the kitchen, right at the back of the house and smaller than he remembered. On the table was a chopping board, bread, various things for the picnic all spread out. The back door was open and beyond was the garden, that cool expanse of green that amazed him again with its endless lawn and trees.

A dog lay on a blanket and flapped its tail sleepily at them. It was an old dog, with grey hair round its nose. Here was something he recognized at least. He knew what to do with dogs.

‘What’s his name?’

‘Stan, but she’s a girl.’

‘Does she bite?’

‘Only if you’re a biscuit. Stroke her if you like. No one else gives her any attention.’

Girls liked blokes who liked animals and he didn’t even have to pretend. He took great care, was gentle and slow. The dog turned belly up and let him fuss her. Mikey smiled, forgetting where he was for a minute. ‘She’s a lovely dog.’

‘She’s my gran’s. We’ve got her goldfish as well.’

He glanced up quickly. ‘Is your gran here?’

‘No, no, she’s in a nursing home. Cup of tea while you wait, or do you want something else?’

His heart thumped. ‘What have you got?’

‘Wait there.’

She wasn’t gone long. He heard her run down the hallway, heard a door open and shut. She came back with a bottle of wine and passed it over. She was trying to impress him.

He unscrewed the top, took a couple of gulps and passed it back. She tipped the bottle to her mouth and took the smallest of sips. She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand.

‘What about this picnic then?’ he said.

‘It’s only sandwiches.’

‘Well, let’s make them.’

They really had to hurry up. He wouldn’t relax until they were out of here.

He started sorting through the stuff on the table – a bag of expensive lettuce, some cheese in a wooden box, tomatoes, olives. She’d been planning on some complicated sandwiches, though the fresh ingredients were going to be interesting to work with. She yanked more stuff out of the fridge – a red pepper, a handful of rocket.

‘You want butter?’ she said.

‘Not if it’s been in the fridge. You got mayonnaise?’

She passed it, along with a knife from a wooden holder on the cabinet. He sliced the bread and spread it with mayo, shredded the lettuce and cut up tomatoes. He liked her watching, knew it looked cool. He unpacked the cheese from its box and laid thin slices on the bread with the salad.

‘Got any black pepper, any salt?’

She came over with the grinders and did it for him. When she twisted, her hips swung and her skirt shifted. It was pretty the way her skirt did that, like it was part of her.

He cut the sandwiches in half diagonally, wrapped them in foil and stepped back from the table with a bow.

‘There you go.’

‘You could be a chef,’ Ellie said, ‘the care you took.’

They smiled at each other.

‘Shall we be off then?’ he said.

She glanced at her mobile, then sat down at the table, pulled a packet of tobacco from a drawer, papers, a lighter and a small hunk of dope.

‘What’s that for?’ he asked.

‘What do think it’s for?’

She hadn’t a clue how to make a joint, it was obvious. She forgot to heat the dope, then when she figured it out, put way too much in and could barely handle the rolling at all. He wanted to tell her she didn’t need to do this to keep him interested, but wasn’t sure how to say it.

‘I didn’t know you smoked,’ was all he managed, as she licked the paper and stuck it down.

‘I don’t.’

‘What do you call that then?’

She looked at the joint in her hand as if it had nothing to do with her, gave a little shrug. ‘I call it exceptional circumstances.’

She made a roach for it then, tearing a strip from the Rizla packet and rolling it small.

‘That’ll be too tight,’ he said.

She unrolled it and started again. Every now and then she threw him a glance, but he pretended not to notice. He wasn’t going to let her freak him out. Or the situation. He kept hearing noises even though he was sitting really still. The afternoon seemed full of them and he couldn’t work out if they meant anything or not. Maybe they were regular noises that houses made – boilers and radiators and all the special objects sparkling. But maybe they meant something. Maybe they were noises that mattered, even in the distance. The noise of a car pulling up the drive or footsteps on gravel, or a key in the lock.

‘So, where is everyone?’ he said. He couldn’t help himself, needed to check.

‘At work.’

He shot her a look. That was a lie. Rich people didn’t work weekends.

‘And my brother’s playing golf.’

Heat rose from Mikey’s chest to his neck, to his face.

‘Done it,’ she said, wiggling the finished joint at him with a smile.

‘Well, do you want to smoke it in the car?’

‘No, let’s have it here.’ She shoved it at him. ‘You do the honours.’

He sparked up, took a couple of tokes and passed it to her. She took one puff, didn’t even inhale, then handed it back.

He shook his head. ‘I’m not really into it, to be honest.’

She looked surprised, stubbed the whole thing out on a saucer and picked up the wine. ‘You want some more of this?’

Why weren’t they leaving? Jacko’s car was outside, the picnic was ready. He took the bottle, had a couple of glugs to calm himself down.

‘Shall we go now?’ he said.

She checked her mobile. ‘How about a tour?’

‘What do you mean? A tour of the house?’

‘Yeah, why not?’

And she stood up, grabbed the wine bottle and simply walked out of the kitchen.

Like an estate agent with no hope of a sale, Ellie named rooms that lay behind closed doors. Cloakroom, study, bathroom, spare room. Outside her brother’s room, Mikey slowed down. It was padlocked, still a crime scene. He laid his hand flat against the door. Ellie kept on walking.

They ended up in her bedroom, sitting together on her bed. There were books and revision papers spread on the desk and all over the floor, but when he tried to crack a joke about it, she ignored him. There was something cold about her, not warm like at the river, not flirty like at the harbour. It was messing with his head.

He got his tobacco out and rolled a thin one. She knelt up on the bed, opened the window and leaned out. He imagined her climbing up on the window ledge like a bird might, her arms open wide. Maybe she could fly. She seemed capable of anything today.

She said, ‘Come over here if you’re going to smoke.’

He knelt next to her and together they looked down at the garden, all green and leafy with its electric gate keeping it safe. You could have heard anything fall – feathers, dust. How did a place get to be so quiet?

‘Don’t you want to go swimming any more?’ he said.

‘Sure I do. We’ll leave in a minute. Here.’

She handed him the wine and he took another swig. She had her finger in her mouth as she watched him. Suck, suck, suck,  she went. He couldn’t stop looking.

‘What are you thinking?’ she said.

‘I’m not thinking anything.’

‘Yeah you are, people are always thinking.’

He frowned at her. ‘OK, I’m thinking you’re being really strange.’

‘Am I?’

‘It’s like you’ve gone away inside yourself. Why have you done that?’

‘I don’t know what you’re talking about.’

A car spluttered in the distance, making them both jump. And that’s when she yanked her T‑shirt over her head and let it fall to the floor. She was wearing a bra, white lace.

‘What are you doing?’

‘Getting changed.’

She sauntered to the wardrobe and began to lazily flick through the hangers. He was getting turned on watching her. He could see every bone of her spine. Her shoulder blades looked like wings.

She held up some see‑through thing and waved it at him. ‘What about this one?’ But she didn’t put it on. He kept telling himself that this was ordinary. This was what rich girls did when they invited blokes to their bedrooms. But at the same time he knew it wasn’t ordinary at all.

He said, ‘Ellie, what’s going on?’

She turned and stood before him. She looked so gorgeous standing there, smiling like there was light shining from inside her.

She said, ‘You tell me.’

And he knew then why she was stalling, and he felt so dumb for not realizing it earlier. She’d got him to come to the house when everyone was out, tried to create a vibe with wine and dope, invited him upstairs. She wanted him to make a move on her.

He smiled, took a step towards her. ‘No one’s here, right?’

She turned to the door and locked it, put the key in her skirt pocket, turned back to him. ‘They’re all out.’

‘When are they back?’

‘Not yet.’

He held out his arms. ‘Come here then.’

But she shook her head. And in the space between them something shifted, like the room got colder.

She said, ‘I know who you are.’

‘What?’

‘You’re Karyn’s brother.’

‘What are you talking about?’

She slapped the closed door with the flat of her hand. ‘Don’t even bother denying it.’

His heart was pounding. Standing there in her bedroom with a massive hard‑on, he knew he was totally shafted.

She said, ‘I’ll read you your rights, shall I? You don’t have to say anything. But it might harm your defence if you don’t mention something that happens to be true. Like the fascinating fact that you’re related to Karyn.’

‘Fuck off.’

‘You  fuck off. My parents will be back soon and we’ve got CCTV at the gate, so it will have recorded you arriving. You’ve got fifteen minutes to tell me what’s going on, or I’ll tell them you tricked your way in, helped yourself to drink, smoked drugs in their house, then forced me upstairs and made me take my clothes off. See how easy it is for people to get themselves into compromising situations? See how bad this will look for your sister?’

‘You set me up?’

Her eyes hardened. ‘You did it to me first.’

She could do anything, say anything. She could say he touched her, that he made her do stuff.

‘Did you think I wouldn’t find out?’ she said. ‘Do you think I’m stupid?’

He sat down on the edge of the bed and wiped a hand across his eyes. ‘How long have you known?’

‘Since the pub. Your boss let it slip. But I knew all along you were only pretending to like me – all that chat at the party and then at the river. I didn’t believe any of it.’

He shook his head. ‘I wasn’t pretending.’

Her eyes were stone. ‘OK, let’s get this straight. You crash my brother’s party, you hit on me, then ask for my number. Why?’

‘I liked you.’

‘Bollocks.’

‘OK, I liked you and  I thought you might know stuff.’

‘What kind of stuff?’

He shrugged. ‘Something that might help my sister.’

‘Why would I?’

‘You were in the house when it happened. Karyn remembers you.’

She gave him a look. It was the strangest look, like a veil lifted, like what he was saying made some kind of sense. ‘You didn’t ask me anything at the river. You didn’t mention my brother once.’

‘I forgot.’

She looked puzzled. ‘You forgot?’

‘I was having a good time.’ He was aware of how gravelly his voice was and gave a quick cough. ‘Courts are crap, you know that. Your brother’ll get off for sure and I wanted Karyn to know someone cared. I thought I’d get information out of you – where your brother hangs out, that kind of stuff. I wasn’t ever going to hurt you.’

‘You were going to hurt my brother?’

He shrugged. ‘He raped my sister.’

Ellie’s face closed down again. ‘Karyn wanted  him. It’s not Tom’s fault she changed her mind in the morning. She flirted with him all night – laughing and joking, knocking back the booze.’

‘She fancied him. Haven’t you ever done that?’

‘I’ve never offered myself on a plate to a boy, then woken up and cried rape.’

‘That’s not what happened. I know her and she’s not making this up.’

‘I know my brother and neither is he.’ She took a step forward. ‘Why would he rape her when she was clearly going to give it to him anyway?’

Mikey’s stomach gripped. He held on tight to the edge of the bed. ‘I don’t know, but he did.’

‘Maybe your sister got so drunk she forgot she said yes – you ever thought of that?’

‘He should have looked after her if she was drunk, not taken advantage.’

Ellie glared at him. ‘Why did it take her twenty‑four hours to go to the police?’

‘I don’t know! I don’t know all the answers.’ He ran a hand through his hair. ‘She was scared, I know that. She still is.’

‘Yeah, well it’s not easy for any of us.’

And that’s when they heard the car, a door slamming shut down there. ‘That’ll be my parents.’ She looked at him with a strange fake smile and calmly turned round and unlocked the door. ‘I’m going to introduce you. Come on.’

‘What? Are you crazy?’

‘Let’s go and say hello. I’m sure they’d love to hear all about your plan to trick their daughter and hurt their son.’

He couldn’t believe she was opening the door, was walking out onto the landing, expecting him to follow. She was only half dressed. Her parents would kill him.

‘Ellie, come back!’

She swung round, her eyes furious. ‘Why should I?’

And that was when someone yelled, ‘Ellie, you up there?’ which sounded like a threat and made her flinch, and footsteps came pounding up the stairs.

Twenty‑three

Tom Parker stood at the top of the stairs in his ridiculous checked trousers and white polo shirt and folded his arms like a bouncer. ‘What’s going on?’

Ellie took a step back. ‘What are you doing here?’

He didn’t answer, looked Mikey up and down. ‘You’re the bloke from the party. You’re the one who nicked the whisky.’

Mikey laughed, couldn’t help it. Ellie had set him up brilliantly. Here was the brother, obviously part of the plan. The parents would turn up in a minute with handcuffs and ropes, closely followed by the cops.

‘You think it’s funny?’ Tom unfolded his arms and took a step towards Mikey. ‘You taking the piss?’

‘Take it easy, man.’

‘Or what?’

‘I’m just saying, take it easy.’

Tom took another step forward. ‘You’ve been smoking dope in my house. I could smell it when I came in.’

‘Back off,’ Ellie told him. ‘It’s nothing to do with you.’

He waved a hand at her, standing there in her bra and skirt, turned back to Mikey. ‘Have you touched my sister?’

Mikey lunged forward and jabbed his fingers hard in Tom’s chest. ‘You want to stop accusing me of stuff?’

Tom slapped him away. ‘Don’t touch me.’

‘Why? What’re you going to do?’ Mikey shoved him with the flat of his palm.

‘I said don’t touch me!’

Mikey could feel the bastard’s heart slamming under his hand. Having him this close – the stink of his sweat, his hot breath in Mikey’s face – it all came crashing back. Ellie might have a plan, but so did he – destroy the bastard who hurt Karyn.  It’s what he’d been chasing for weeks and it was finally here. He grabbed Tom Parker by his collar and rammed him into the wall behind.

‘No!’ Ellie said. ‘Leave him alone.’

Mikey pulled back his fist and smashed it into the soft skin of Tom’s mouth. His hand came away wet and blood dripped onto Tom’s white shirt.

Mikey laughed at the pale white face. ‘I’m going to kill you,’ he said. It sounded true. The adrenalin was fantastic. He punched him again, on his nose this time. Tom moaned, a soft sound, clutching his hands to his face. Blood leaked between his fingers.

‘That was from my sister,’ Mikey said. ‘That was from Karyn.’

Tom smeared blood from his nose with the back of his hand. ‘You’re Karyn’s brother?’

‘Like you didn’t know!’

Ellie pulled at Mikey’s jacket, but he shrugged her away. She’d set him up and it wasn’t working out – tough. He was invincible and Tom Parker was easier than he’d ever dreamed.

Mikey gave him another shove. ‘You wasted yet?’

Tom shook his head, steadying himself with a hand on the wall.

‘You are. You’re wasted. Come on, aren’t you supposed to win this? Wasn’t that the idea?’

Mikey was stirring up anger. He knew it and couldn’t stop. He felt a terrible thrill in his chest as Tom looked up, blood bubbling from his mouth.

‘Your sister’s a slut,’ Tom said.

Mikey pulled back his arm to whack him again, but Tom went for the gap, brought up his knee and smashed it into Mikey’s gut. He doubled over, gasping, his breath expelled in one shocking groan.

Tom yanked him up by his hair and belted a fist in his face – loud as a hammer, the bones of his knuckles burning into Mikey’s eye.

‘Outside,’ Tom spat. Like it was school, like any of this could be controlled. His voice spinning as he shoved Mikey down the stairs.

‘What are you doing?’ Ellie yelled. ‘Tom, don’t!’

Mikey half fell, half stumbled, his elbows and knees bouncing against the banister and the wall. In the hallway he went crashing down and suddenly Tom was on him, dragging him up by his jacket and propelling him through the front door.

The air changed everything. It had stopped raining and was hot and surprising outside. Mikey couldn’t see out of his eye and he was still winded, but he wasn’t leaving like this, being driven towards the gate, panting for oxygen. He twisted round, grabbed Tom Parker by his collar and forced him backwards. He felt like a magician, seeing victory turn to panic on his face.

‘You’re dead,’ Mikey told him. ‘You’re so dead.’

Mikey threw a straight punch. He aimed for the nose, keeping his shoulder to his jaw. He remembered it from all the playground fights he’d ever had. It came back like some old instinct. The sound of his fist hitting skin was amazing.

And then they were locked together. Tom scrabbled at him, tried to reach his back to pummel him, but Mikey shoved his hands under Tom’s armpits and clenched them behind his neck, so he couldn’t bring his arms down. There was a stink of fear and adrenalin.

This guy hurt Karyn,  he kept thinking. This guy needs killing.

It was like dancing – they were both pushing, grunting, trying to kick each other’s feet away. Ellie hopped around them like a ref. She’d got a coat on now and was holding it around her and yelling at them to stop.

But Mikey wasn’t giving up. He was going to ram into this guy, unlock his arms, shove him backwards, then break his nose for good.

But before he could do any of that, Tom slammed his leg up and kneed Mikey in the balls. The pain was unreal, hot agony searing up from his groin to his gut as his legs buckled.

Tom stood towering over him as Mikey lay holding his balls on the grass. He curled into himself, was vaguely aware of Tom moving away, of Ellie running after him. He opened one eye. They were at the front door. Ellie was shouting at her brother as he scrabbled around in a green recycling box on the doorstep.

‘Don’t,’ she yelled.

But Tom shoved her off, and waved a wine bottle at Mikey.

‘Look what I got.’ He slapped it into his palm, flicked it backwards and forwards between his hands. ‘You scared now?’

Ellie screamed. ‘No, Tom, no!’

But he did it anyway. Bits of glass flew everywhere as he smashed the bottom off against the side of the house.

Mikey tried to struggle up as Tom strolled towards him. A broken bottle was like a knife. It was a whole different league. He wiped his eye with the back of his hand. ‘Put it down.’

‘Yeah, in your face.’

Tom was giving him psychotic eye contact as he got nearer, like he’d be in Mikey’s life for ever, would follow him wherever he went. Mikey kicked himself along the ground to get away, scrabbling upright, holding his bollocks, barely able to move, let alone run.

Tom was laughing, sauntering after him. ‘What’s the matter? Not so brave now, eh?’

Mikey made it as far as the gate, but he was an idiot, because it was shut and now all his strength was gone. Outside, Jacko’s car looked beautiful. In his pocket were the keys. Too late. He pressed himself against the gate, curled his arms round his head and waited for the pain.

But instead of the bottle, water slammed into him. It was freezing. The sudden cold spray of it drenched him immediately. Tom was next to him, both of them soaked, the bottle on the ground and Tom’s nose bleeding hard as he tried to slap the water away.

Ellie was standing on the lawn with a garden hose. Sun glittered on the water, making crazy rainbows in the air.

‘Turn it off,’ Tom spluttered. ‘What are you doing? Look at my nose!’

But Ellie trained the hose right in his face, forcing him away from the gate until he stood in the middle of the grass shaking his head, blood running from his mouth and nose in strings.

‘Get in the house,’ she said. ‘It’s finished.’

Mikey had a sudden longing to sit down, to lie down in fact. He was exhausted. It was like a car had crashed and flung them all over the fence and into the garden – glass and blood and water everywhere. But he couldn’t lie down because Ellie was by him now, pressing some secret button that slid the whole gate open.

‘Go home,’ she said. ‘Leave us alone.’

He pulled himself together enough to step through the gate. In the lane he turned to her. ‘You won,’ he said. ‘Congratulations.’

She looked at him with dark eyes as the gate shut. He had an idea she was trying to tell him something, squeezing her voice out in a whisper, but his ears were ringing and his eye was swollen shut.

And anyway, why would he be interested in anything she had to say?

Twenty‑four

Tom was leaning over the sink in the downstairs bathroom watching blood drip from his nose.

‘Look at me!’ He waved his hands at Ellie as if to prove something. They were bright and slippery with blood. ‘Are you going to help me, or what?’

She closed the front door and went into the bathroom, passed him some tissue, then draped a towel round herself like a cape and sat on the closed toilet seat. She leaned back and closed her eyes.

‘Well, you’re a good nurse,’ he said. ‘Thanks very much.’

She tried to remember what had happened out there – Mikey’s scared face as he staggered to the gate, Tom sauntering after him, blood everywhere, water slamming at them and the grass all slippery.

But before any of that, there’d been a moment, and this was what was hard to remember exactly – a moment when Tom smashed the bottle against the wall of the house and glass flew everywhere. She’d told him to stop, she’d kept saying it and he’d kept ignoring her. And he had that look on his face – the one she’d seen before, where nothing she said or did was going to make anything different.