Black Rabbit Summer (4 page)

So, yeah, I knew what Raymond meant about Pauly and Campbell, and to a certain extent I shared his concerns. But at the same time, I kind of understood that things change – people grow up, their fears move on, their childhood nightmares don’t haunt them so much any more. It wasn’t like that for me or Raymond, and understanding it didn’t make it any easier to accept. But, as far as I was concerned, if Pauly wanted to spend his time cosying up to our childhood nightmare… well, that was up to him. There wasn’t much I could do about it anyway.

I looked at Raymond. ‘It’ll just be the five of us at first,’ I told him. ‘Me and you, Nicole, Eric, and Pauly. Nicole wants us all to meet up in the old den in Back Lane, you know – the one up the bank by the factory. Just the five of us… no one else allowed. Like a den party.’

Raymond smiled warily. ‘A den party?’

‘Yeah, just like the old days – bring a bottle, have a few drinks…’

‘No one else allowed?’

‘No one else.’

Raymond was starting to relax a bit now. The troubled look was fading from his eyes, and he was beginning to seem
cautiously interested. He’d always liked being in the dens – I think he felt safe and comfortable in them. To the rest of us, they were just places to go, places to be, places to do things we weren’t supposed to do. But to Raymond I think they were some kind of sanctuary, a refuge from the big bad world. He even used to go to the dens on his own sometimes, which I always thought was a pretty cool thing to do – just sitting there on your own, hidden away in a secret place, no one knowing where you are…

I wish I’d had the courage to do that.

‘So,’ I said to Raymond, ‘what do you think? Do you want to go?’

He shrugged. ‘I don’t know…’

‘We could just go to the den, if you want… just for an hour or so. We don’t have to go on to the fair afterwards.’

‘What about Pauly?’

‘He’ll be all right… don’t worry about it. I mean, you know what he’s like – he’ll just be the same old Pauly with us.’

‘Same old Pauly,’ Raymond muttered.

‘Yeah, I know…’

‘He used to come round here.’

‘I know.’

‘He made me think he was OK.’

Raymond was beginning to look saddened again now.

‘It’s all right,’ I told him. ‘It doesn’t matter if you don’t want to go. I mean, it’s no big deal or anything.’

He looked at me. ‘You want to go, don’t you?’

I shrugged. ‘I really don’t mind.’

He smiled. ‘I can tell.’

‘Tell what?’

‘You want to see Nic.’

‘No, I don’t –’

‘I can tell.’

‘Well, you’re wrong…’

He shrugged, still smiling at me.

I shook my head. ‘Why would I want to see Nic?’

‘Because…’

‘Because what?’

‘I don’t know… just because.’

I shook my head again. ‘You don’t know what you’re talking about, Raymond.’

He grinned at me. ‘I know.’

‘I mean, I wouldn’t
mind
seeing her… just to say goodbye and everything… but I’m not bothered if I don’t.’ I looked at him. ‘There’s nothing between us any more, if that’s what you’re thinking.’

‘Right,’ he said.

I glared at him, trying to look annoyed, but it was impossible. The way he was just sitting there, staring wide-eyed at me, grinning his head off… I couldn’t help smiling at him.

We carried on sitting there for a while, just soaking up the sun and talking about stuff – exam results, college… nothing important – and then around two o’clock we both heard the sound of the front door slamming, and Raymond said he’d better go inside.

‘It’s my dad,’ he said, suddenly very serious. ‘He’ll probably want something to eat.’

Raymond didn’t like talking about his parents, so I didn’t ask him where his dad had been, or why he couldn’t get something to eat for himself, I just nodded and started to get up.

‘What about tomorrow then?’ I asked him. ‘Do you want to give it a go?’

‘Yeah, I suppose…’

‘You sure?’

He nodded vaguely, but he wasn’t really paying attention to me any more – he was concentrating intently on the back door of his house, looking out for his dad.

‘I’ll come round here about nine,’ I told him. ‘Is that OK?’

He didn’t answer.

‘Raymond?’ I said.

He glanced at me. ‘What?’

‘Tomorrow night – I’ll come round at nine o’clock.’

‘OK…’

His head snapped back to the house again as he heard his dad’s voice calling out – ‘
Raymond!
’

‘I’d better go,’ he said quickly, scuttling off towards the house. ‘I’ll see you tomorrow.’

‘Yeah, see you, Raymond,’ I called after him. ‘And don’t worry about anything…’

But he was already halfway down the garden now, and I knew he wasn’t listening to me any more. I watched him as he opened the back door and hurried into the house, and I wondered, as I’d wondered so many times before, what kind of life he had in there.

It was hard to imagine.

His parents had never been up to much. They were cold people, ugly-minded, uncaring… the kind of parents that make you appreciate your own.

I stared at the house for a moment, trying to picture what happened behind those brick walls, but all I could see was a formless haze of dull grey mist. Cold ugly voices, resentment, hidden feelings.

I sensed something then – a soundless movement – and when I looked down at my feet I saw Black Rabbit flopping past me and hopping back into his hutch.

I didn’t know it then, but as I left Raymond’s garden that day and started walking back home, I’d just made the biggest mistake of my life.

The next day, Saturday, was one of those days when you wake up in the morning, too hot to sleep, and you feel so sweaty and breathless that all you want to do is throw off the duvet and lie there naked, hoping in vain for a breath of cooling air to drift in through the open window…

But it never comes.

There’s no cool air out there, just a blazing white sun and a burned-blue sky and a heat so heavy you can see it.

After I’d finally managed to peel myself off the bed and shuffle wearily into the bathroom, I took a cold shower, dressed in a T-shirt and shorts, and went downstairs. A fan was blowing in the kitchen, and all the windows were open, but the house was still uncomfortably hot. I went outside and found Mum sitting on a kitchen chair, sipping tea and smoking a cigarette. She was wearing shorts and a T-shirt too, and although she looked really good in them – kind of baggy and scruffily cool – she also looked pretty tired and worn out.

‘I thought you’d given up smoking,’ I said to her, nodding at the cigarette in her hand.

She smiled at me. ‘I have.’

‘Doesn’t look like it.’

‘It’s just the one… I needed it.’

‘Yeah, well,’ I said, ‘you’d better not let Dad catch you.’

‘He’s still asleep.’

‘What time did he get in?’

She shrugged. ‘I don’t know… a few hours ago. Around eight, I suppose.’

‘When’s he got to go back?’

‘This afternoon.’

She took a long drag on her cigarette and gazed down the garden. Her smile had gone now, and she had a worried-about-Dad look in her eyes. She was always worried about Dad, especially when he was working nights.

My dad’s a police officer – a detective sergeant in the CID – and it’s hard for Mum sometimes. It’s hard for both of us, really. Even when Dad isn’t working late or doing nights, neither of us gets to see him that much. There’s always something keeping him busy – overtime, paperwork, courses, training. I don’t really mind not seeing him too much. I mean, I don’t
like
it, but I’m used to it. I’ve grown up with it, just as I’ve grown up with and got used to all the other crap that goes with being the son of a police officer – the suspicions, the wariness, the stupid jokes. It’s not that I don’t
like
Dad being a policeman, because I do. As far as I’m concerned, it’s a pretty cool thing to do. It’s just that sometimes I wish he had a more normal job. An ordinary job. Nine to five, Monday to Friday. No weekend overtime, no worried Mum, no tired-out Dad.

I looked at Mum now, and I knew she didn’t really care too much about the long hours and the overtime and the fact that Dad was tired all the time. The only thing she was really worried about – the only thing she’d ever been worried about
– was that every time Dad left for work, there was always a chance he wouldn’t come home.

She put out her cigarette and smiled at me. ‘Everything all right?’

I smiled back. ‘Yeah.’

‘Good. How’s Raymond? You went to see him yesterday, didn’t you?’

‘Yeah, he’s all right. You know… same old Raymond. He’s coming to the fair with us tonight.’

Mum raised her eyebrows.

‘What?’ I said.

She shook her head. ‘Nothing… what time are you going?’

‘About nine.’ I flapped my T-shirt, trying to cool myself down. ‘A few of us might go back to Nicole’s place afterwards. She and Eric are having a little going-away party. They said I can stay over if I want.’

Mum grinned. ‘
They
said?’

‘Yeah,’ I said, blushing slightly. ‘Pauly’s probably going to be there, and Eric…’

‘And Nicole.’

I shook my head. ‘She’s just an old friend, Mum.’

‘I know,’ Mum laughed. ‘I’m only joking.’

‘Is it all right if I stay over?’

She nodded. ‘I don’t see why not. Make sure you take your phone with you, though. And be careful, OK?’

‘Yeah.’

She wiped some sweat from her forehead and squinted up at the sky. The air was shimmering now, hazing in the heat, and in the distance I could see things that weren’t there – silver seas, floating reflections, mirrors on the horizon. The heat was distorting the world.

I spent the rest of the day doing nothing – just hanging around, waiting for the night to come round. I didn’t like admitting it to myself, but I was really looking forward to going out for a change. I was still a bit wary of seeing Nicole and the rest of them, and throughout the day I kept hearing the echoes of a faint whispered voice somewhere in the back of my mind –
be careful, don’t go… be careful, don’t go
– but I was determined to ignore it. I hadn’t been out anywhere for ages. I hadn’t felt excited for a long time. I wasn’t going to let some stupid whispering voice spoil my day.

Dad woke up around midday, and I managed to see him for about ten minutes or so before he went back to work. He was in a hurry – sitting in the kitchen, bolting down some bacon and eggs – so we didn’t have much time to talk.

‘Are you all right?’ he asked me.

‘Yeah.’

‘Doing anything tonight?’

‘Me and Raymond are going to the fair.’

He nodded, chewing vigorously. ‘Well, be careful up there.’

I smiled to myself, wondering how many more people were going to tell me to be careful.

‘I mean it, Pete,’ Dad said. ‘There’s been a bit of trouble up at the fair the last few nights, so make sure you keep your eyes open, OK?’

‘What kind of trouble?’

‘Just the usual stuff – fights, drugs, people getting robbed. It’s going to be really hot and crowded up there tonight, so it’s probably going to be even worse.’

‘I’ll be careful, Dad,’ I promised.

‘Yeah,’ he smiled, ‘I know you will.’ He took a big gulp of tea, wiped his mouth, then got up from the table and rubbed his unshaven chin. ‘Right,’ he said, ‘well, I’d better get going, I suppose.’

Later on, around six o’clock, when Mum nipped out to the corner shop on St Leonard’s Road, I went into the little room at the back of the kitchen where Dad keeps his wine and I picked out the cheapest-looking bottle I could find. Dad likes his wine, and there were quite a few bottles in there, so I didn’t think he was likely to miss one.

Then I went back upstairs, hid the bottle away, and started getting ready.

I put some music on –
Nevermind
, Nirvana.

I showered again.

Deodorized.

Picked out some clothes – combat shorts, baggy T-shirt, trainers, no socks.

Got dressed to more music –
Elephant
, The White Stripes.

Studied myself in the mirror. Changed my shirt, changed it back again… changed my shorts, changed them back again…

And then I just hung around some more – lying on the bed, trying not to get too sweaty… trying not to ask myself why I was making so much effort, why I cared what I looked like, why I was feeling so tingly and weird…

At five to nine, I went downstairs and popped my head round the living-room door to say goodbye to Mum. She was sitting on the settee, watching TV.

‘I’m going now,’ I told her.

‘OK,’ she smiled. ‘Have you got a jacket, in case it rains?’

I showed her the rucksack in my hand, taking care not to knock it against anything. I could feel the weight of the bottle of wine inside.

Mum nodded. ‘Got your phone?’

‘All charged up.’

‘OK,’ she said. ‘Well, have a good time then.’

‘Yeah.’

She smiled. ‘And don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.’

She always says that whenever I go out –
don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.
I’ve never understood what it means.

Raymond was waiting for me at the bottom of his garden when I arrived. Black Rabbit was in his hutch, and Raymond was just standing there, gazing out over the garden. He was wearing cheap denim jeans and a zip-up black hoody.

‘Aren’t you too hot in that?’ I said to him.

He looked at me. ‘It’s going to rain later on.’