Lies Like Love (16 page)

One of Sue’s traditions was to spend Christmas Eve in the pub. There were usually carollers; the landlady put on a buffet. Everyone was cheerful, rosy with the roaring fire and mulled wine. The last person Leo had thought they’d see that evening was Lorraine; their exchange of the day before still lay under his skin like the fading ache of a wasp sting. She came in with a gust of wind, her lips painted their customary red, and he saw Sue lift her hand in welcome, but Lorraine looked the other way, pretending she hadn’t noticed her.

Lorraine walked through the bar, into the snug and disappeared from view.

‘That’s a bit odd, isn’t it?’ Sue looked at Leo. ‘Should I go and talk to her, find out what’s up, do you think?’

Leo finished his drink. ‘Leave her to it. If she wants to be rude, well, let her.’

‘Maybe she didn’t see us? I don’t think she was being rude, Leo. I’ll see her later.’

‘OK. But she saw us all right.’ If Lorraine was here, then Audrey was back at the Grange. He could nip over there, quickly; just say Happy Christmas in person. He picked up his coat.

‘Where are you off to?’ Sue raised an eyebrow. She knew full well.

‘I’ll be back soon. No worries.’

‘Take the car. Quicker, then.’

‘Sure.’

Leo drove fast in the dark, his headlights on full illuminating the road, startling a rabbit, then a deer into the hedgerows. The roads were clear, not icy; the day had been mild and bright and he sang a noisy carol, grinning at the thought of this surprise – and Audrey’s face bright in the future.

The banging seemed to go on forever. I turned, deep in sleep, trying to block it out, but the noise didn’t stop. And then a voice calling,
Audrey, Audrey
– the sound came so kind and sweet that tears leaked again and I turned to follow it in the dark, wondering if it would lead to somewhere brighter. If I could leave my body behind and be lifted into the air.

‘Aud.’ It was Peter now. Shaking me. I was groggy, couldn’t see well; my eyelids were too heavy to lift.

‘Aud, wake up – there’s someone here,’ he whispered, and I reached out and pulled him close with arms like lead.

‘Go to sleep, Pete,’ I grumbled. ‘They’ll go away.’

There it was again, the banging. Peter jumped in my arms and huddled against me; this time I sat up, my head a weight on my shoulders.

‘Audrey.’ The call again, real. ‘Audrey!’ I recognized the voice at last. It was Leo.

‘It’s all right, Pete. Let me get up.’

Peter still wrapped round my waist, I opened the door.

‘Hey,’ he said. I was glad it was dark. I felt him staring, his hand on my cheek. He was cold and I shivered.

‘Hi.’ I put my hand up and held his.

‘Can I come in?’ he said, and I didn’t know how to
answer because I knew I was a mess and I knew what would happen if Mum came home.

‘Your mum’s at the pub; I saw her there,’ he said, reading my mind.

‘What?’ I thought she must have gone to work. What did I know?

‘So, I thought you might be lonely.’

‘I was asleep.’ It still felt as if this were part of the dream, that any second I’d wake up and realize that my mind had tricked me again.

‘You’re OK, aren’t you?’

‘Yes, come in, quick.’

He did and he put his arms round me and I knew then that it was all right. That he was the safest thing in my life and that I wasn’t disgusting or wrong and that Leo didn’t mind anything. Not my greasy hair and pale scorched skin, my thin fingers, my crooked bottom teeth, my glasses. All the things I didn’t know. None of it mattered to Leo. He was here, after all.

He’d been about to give up when Audrey opened the door, about to forget this madcap mission. And then there she was, standing before him like a ghost. Her face was confused in the dark as if she didn’t recognize him.

‘Can I come in?’

For a long time she didn’t answer and then, when he stepped inside and put his arms round her and held her, he felt her come alive, his own cold hands warming on her sleep-heavy skin. He kissed her cheek. He felt her smile.

Peter turned on the lights and before Leo knew it Peter was dragging out a game, one he’d not played in years, and they assembled themselves round the plastic square, bright hippos snapping and grabbing at little rolling balls. Audrey fierce with competition but letting Peter win, shouting with pretend despair; Leo holding hands with her, just glad to be here for a little while because this couldn’t last. That was something they all knew.

‘What time is it?’ Audrey asked.

‘It’s only ten.’

‘Oh, really?’ She walked and pulled back the curtain and looked out on to the drive.

‘We’ll hear her on the gravel,’ Leo said, and Audrey nodded and rested her head against his chest.

‘What are we going to play now?’ said Peter. ‘Hide-and-seek?’

‘No. It’s bedtime,’ Audrey told him. ‘Father Christmas will be here soon, Pete, and if you’re not asleep, how’s he going to leave your presents?’

‘Where’s Rudolph’s carrot?’ said Leo and they went to the kitchen and found a carrot and a biscuit and a glass of their mum’s sweet wine, leaving it all by the window. He’d have to come by the window, Aud explained, since there was no chimney.

‘You know, when I was little,’ Leo said, as Audrey tucked Peter in, ‘we always went away at Christmas, skiing or something like that. And do you know, Peter, one year we went to Lapland where the
real
Father Christmas lives.’

‘Did you see him?’ Peter sat up again. They both listened; Aud had a smile playing on her lips but her eyes glowed too.

Leo nodded, remembering quite vividly a frozen lake, huskies barking, his mother in a heavy fur coat, the stillness and beauty of winter.

‘I did. And do you know what I asked him for?’

Pete’s eyes widened. Flying saucers. Leo leant close.

‘I asked him for a little brother,’ he whispered, and then stood up and smiled and Peter smiled back.

Audrey led him back to the living room. ‘I guess I should go,’ he said. ‘I hope Santa comes.’

Audrey crossed her fingers and held them up, the sleeve of her pyjamas falling back, the light from a lamp catching the fair hairs on her arms and something else: a dressing on her arm.

‘What happened? What’s this?’

She pulled away sharply and pulled down her sleeve.

‘Nothing. An accident.’

‘What sort of accident?’

‘I was making tea. It was the kettle.’ Her laugh was small. ‘I’m always dropping stuff and making a mess.’

‘Oh.’ He could say that wasn’t true, that he thought she spun straw into gold, but instead he whispered, holding her hand again, standing close, ‘OK. Does it hurt?’

She shook her head against his chest.

‘I’ll be back. New Year’s Eve. Make sure you can get out. OK?’

She nodded. He wasn’t sure she’d heard.

‘I’ll be thinking about you, Aud, every minute. Right?’

Her eyes asked him,
Really?
So Leo kissed her, kissed her so she’d know just how much he missed her and wanted her and loved her. She kissed him right back. And everything he felt came bursting back at him. He loved that too.

‘I’d better go.’

‘Don’t,’ she said.

‘I have to; I don’t want to.’ They kissed each other again and this time she was the one to pull away and then bundle him out of the door as if realizing what it meant if they were found, as if the reality suddenly made sense.

‘Don’t forget,’ he shouted as he pounded down the stairwell. ‘Don’t forget. New Year’s Eve. I’ll be back.’

The next morning Peter woke me up early and we opened our stockings, sitting on Mum’s bed. The night before seemed a dream and I tried to see out through the window across the fields to the farm, but the glass was fogged with condensation. Turning back to the moment, I stared at the gifts. Mum had gone mad with the shopping, as usual, and she lay back against the pillows watching us, still half-asleep. She hadn’t come back until one.

Mum’s room was a bomb-site. It wasn’t just the presents; there were piles of clothes and shoes and jewellery. Bags and boxes, unopened parcels full of things that I guessed she’d forgotten she’d even ordered. Maybe I’d tidy it for her some time, fix it up nicely. It would be something I could do, at least, to tell her I was sorry for us fighting, sorry that she was angry. Peter was working his way through the parcels, ripping through paper and assembling a pile.

I’d bought Peter a chef’s hat and a set of kids’ cooking utensils, plus a recipe book. It had been cheap, all I could afford, but he didn’t care.

‘Awesome, Aud, thanks,’ he said, tearing open the box, handling the whisk and the wooden spoon. ‘I’ll make us breakfast in a minute,’ he declared, all serious and important. I hugged him and Mum handed me her gift. It was a
box, beautifully wrapped in shining gold paper. I almost didn’t dare open it, couldn’t imagine what it might be. Half of me thought about a typewriter, old-fashioned, elegant, but didn’t dare even imagine it. Or perhaps a globe. Maybe a huge box of books. It wasn’t heavy enough for any of those things and I swallowed down my expectations.

‘Go on,’ she said. ‘The suspense is killing me.’ The expression on her face told me I needed to love it, whatever it was.

I peeled back the paper. Stared. A Madison baby doll smiled up at me from behind her plastic casing.

‘She’s brilliant, isn’t she?’ said Mum, taking the box, releasing her from her manacles, careful not to rip the packaging. ‘Look, you can pose her in different positions.’ She started rearranging the thing’s limbs, straightening her gingham romper suit and matching bow. ‘She’s adorable. I thought you could start your own collection, Audrey. She’s good quality, Ashton Drake, like some of mine.’ She gestured at the shelf behind the bed, the dolls arranged in perfect lines. I tried never to look at them, their faces freaked me out. ‘She’ll look good in your room.’

‘Thanks, Mum. She’s nice. It’s really kind of you. Thanks.’

I leant across the wrapping-paper mountain. Kissed her on the cheek. Her face tasted of stale make-up. Breath sour. She grabbed me and hugged too hard. I squirmed away, putting the doll to one side.

‘What? Don’t you like her?’

‘Yeah, but, you know, it’s not really my thing.’ I was trying to be honest. Not the best policy.

‘Well, that’s bloody charming that is, isn’t it?’ She sat back, folded her arms, refused to open anything else or to eat the breakfast Peter made.

After that, things went flat. Later Mum decided she couldn’t be bothered with the turkey after all. We had jam sandwiches on our knees in front of the telly, pulled crackers. Laughed fake laughs at the jokes. Not even the
EastEnders
special or the Mr Bean film could lift our spirits.

Mum shifted on the couch, tapping her fingers on the arm of the chair, checking her phone and then casting looks my way. Then she started.

‘You know, without me, without the doctors, you won’t manage.’

‘What?’ I said, not looking at her. I leant over and helped Peter fit another piece into his new jigsaw.

‘You think things are bad now?’ Mum went on. ‘Imagine what you’ll be like when you can’t get out of bed, can’t eat, if you’re hearing things, seeing things. You let your voices get any worse, Aud, and that’s it – you’ll be at breaking point. You can’t cope alone.’

‘Mum. Stop it.’ I stood up, fetched a glass of water and stood watching her from the doorway.

Mum heaved herself up and came over. ‘Let me see that arm,’ she said, grabbing at me, wanting to check the burns.

‘No, stop it. Leave it.’ I pulled away.

‘I’ll do the dressing. It might be infected,’ she said, snatching again at my arm. Her fingers grabbed right where it hurt.

‘It isn’t.’

Mum folded her arms. The way she looked at me, like Lizzy looked at me. Like I made her sick.

‘You should go to bed, Audrey,’ she said eventually – it must only have been half past five. ‘It’s time you went up. You’re not well.’

‘Mum, it’s still early,’ I complained. Plus I didn’t want to go up there, especially not now it was dark. Mum got up and wandered into the kitchen, opened the fridge, rummaged inside. When she turned back, her hands full of cheese and a jar of pickle, she saw me still standing behind her and stepped forward.

‘Early night for you. It’ll do you good. And don’t forget Madison.’ She filled her plate and pulled Peter with her back into the living room, shutting the door behind them.

It was hours before she went to bed and too late to creep out. But I waited until I heard the sound of her snores before I sneaked downstairs, Madison’s eyes following me, out of the flat and down to the letter box, just in case.

Inside was a chain of paper hearts, curled and coiled like a sleeping snake. I pulled them out. Each one carried words, as usual, precious words that I could treasure and try to understand:
dive
,
dreams
,
trust
,
heart
,
seas
,
fire
. It was perfect and I went back up to my room, smiling.

Early on New Year’s Eve I sat on my bed and attacked a skirt with a pair of scissors before pulling it on, with a black T-shirt of Mum’s. It was too big but I found a belt and wrapped it tight round my waist. I almost had a little black dress. With a needle and thread I tried to hem the skirt, pricking my finger in the process and making it bleed. Next I attacked my hair, piling it up in a messy bun and spraying it with half a can of Mum’s hair spray. I stared in the mirror in the bathroom. Still too thin. Still too pale. Circling Mum’s blusher on to my cheeks, I wondered where Leo and I would go and what we would do. I wondered if he’d definitely come. Yes, he’d promised. A seed of excitement took root, began to grow. I couldn’t remember my last party. The finished product stared out of the bathroom mirror. I looked a mess but at least I was me. A work-in-progress sort of me.

‘What do you think?’ I asked Peter.

He glanced up. ‘About what?’

‘My outfit?’

‘You look weird, Aud,’ he said, without looking up again. He was right. I stuck my tongue out at the mirror. Pulled a silly face, made myself laugh.

I changed the skirt for jeans, left the hair and added
lipstick. Mum’s red was better than nothing. I had to stare in the mirror to do it. It was all right; I was all right.

‘Where are you going?’ Peter had come to watch. He sat kicking the side of the bath.

I thought about it. He’d have to come too.

‘Do you want to go and see Leo?’ I asked him.

He nodded, slowly.

‘It’ll be fun.’ I smiled, tried to make it look like it wasn’t a problem, that I couldn’t care less. ‘Mum won’t find out.’

‘OK,’ he said. ‘All right.’

And then there was a loud banging on the door. Even though I was expecting him, I jumped.

‘Who is it?’ Peter said. I raced out of the bathroom, down the stairs and flung myself at the front door and wrenched it wide.

For a second neither of us said a word. We just stared. Then I straightened the dodgy outfit, thought about my face, my mouth wearing such a grin. The stupid lipstick. I covered my mouth.

Leo read my mind. ‘You look beautiful,’ he said. ‘Different. Good though.’

I wiped my lips with my hand. Smeared a dark stain on my skin.

‘Come on.’ Leo grabbed my hand. ‘Get your coat.’

‘Where are we going?’

‘You’ll see. Come on, Peter.’

‘I’d better leave a note, hadn’t I?’

‘Yeah, sure.’ He paused.

‘Saying what?’

‘That you’ll be out for the night. Back tomorrow. That
you’re safe and Peter’s at Sue’s – she won’t mind babysitting, although I’ve not said where we’re going. I think she might object to that bit of the plan. Anyway. Those are the only clues you’re getting. Quick, let’s go.’

I scrawled the message and left it propped on the worktop by the kettle and dashed after Leo and Peter, whooping out into the fresh air, racing my brother down on to the drive.

Parked on the gravel was Sue’s Land Rover.

‘What’s happening?’

‘We’re going on a road trip,’ Leo said. We faced each other. He wanted me to get in the car with him and drive away. My legs began to shake at the thought. I’d not travelled anywhere without Mum. I wasn’t sure I could.

‘You’re kidding me.’

It wasn’t a good idea. I almost turned and walked back up to the flat, but Leo put his arms round me. ‘It’s OK, Aud; you’ll be with me.’

I put my cheek on his chest. I could hear his heart pounding too and I took a deep breath.

‘A road trip?’

Leo waited for me to agree and I stared back at the Grange. It was watching us, silently reprimanding; the trees bent a grave, dark warning too. But the wind didn’t shake Leo. He stepped towards the car, opened the passenger side, and swept a way forward with his arm.

‘Come on, Aud. Get in. Buckle up. You too, Pete – let’s go.’

‘Mum’s going to go mad,’ I said, out of the side of my mouth to Leo, strapping Peter in.

‘You left her the note – give her a call once we’re en route, explain where we’re going, where Peter is – Sue said she’d babysit – then at least she won’t worry. What do you think?’

My legs were still wobbly; I sat next to my brother, tried to calm down, and took his hand. Peter was smiling and I wished he could come too. Leo started the engine and I watched his hands switching on the headlights, manoeuvring the gears.

‘Don’t worry, you know we’ll be fine.’ Leo was staring at me – his face demanding smiles with his own, and I felt the hope and excitement in the thud of my heartbeat, the speed of my breath. Leo kept looking as if he expected something and I tried to see how he felt, but couldn’t read it all – such a mixture of things, though mostly it was light. Like Blackpool Illuminations, the whole wonderful happiness of it, impossibly hopeful.
Come with me
, his eyes said,
I’ll take you away, take you somewhere where the only thing to fear is the brightness of stars and how incredible the world is when you see it from the sky
.

The gears crunched and we were off, down the driveway towards the gates. I expected to see them swing back before we could drive through, locking us inside, but we sailed past, probably too fast to be safe, but what did it matter? We were free.

‘Where are we going?’

‘Surprise. Wait and see.’ He checked his watch and we drove along the narrow lanes to the farm, only Peter’s chatter interrupting the quiet. Any second now something was going to explode. I hugged my brother tight when he climbed out, kissed him, but he pushed me away
and wiped his face, then, just before he ran inside, he turned and blew me a kiss. I caught it, put it in my pocket and climbed back into the car, sitting so close to Leo our bodies may as well have been Velcroed together at the hips, shoulders, thighs. I didn’t know if he could drive like this, but I wasn’t going to move. He put his face in my hair, his mouth to my ear.

‘I missed you,’ he whispered, sounding sort of different – out of control, maybe.

I grabbed his hand and held it, crushed his fingers. How much I’d missed him was there in every bit of my body; I wondered if he could see everything beating, that I was burning. I swallowed and wound down the window for fresh air but the icy blast didn’t cool anything.

The roads were busy but Leo handled the car like a pro, only stopping to fill the tank.

‘What is this?’ I asked him.

‘Magical mystery tour,’ he said again. ‘I told you.’

‘I’m scared.’ I smiled as I said it, not meaning it any more, not really. Scared of all kinds of things, of me, and him, and being together. Of escaping.

‘Don’t be,’ he said. ‘I don’t want you to be scared, not ever with me. I’ll look after you, Aud, I swear, and this will be fun; it’s meant to be exciting.’

‘What about my mum?’ I stared out at the traffic. It was a stupid thing to say. She didn’t matter, not right now and how could she know where we were? She couldn’t follow us. She couldn’t stop us.

‘Call her now.’ Leo got out his phone and handed it over.

‘She’s going to be so angry, you know that. She’ll spoil things.’

‘OK, call her in the morning. Or we can text.’ I held the phone, dangled it from my fingers, doing nothing. ‘Go on, ring her. It’ll be fine. I can explain if you like.’

I couldn’t think about it. Mum wasn’t welcome here, with us; she’d make me go back and I didn’t want to now. I handed back his phone.

‘Don’t worry,’ he said again as he started the car and pulled back out on to the motorway. Names of towns I’d never heard of tangled, confused, in my head, and as the miles passed I started to think about what we were doing, what it meant.

‘Thanks for this, Leo,’ I said. ‘Whatever it is. Wherever we go. I like it. We could just drive forever. Not stop. What do you think?’

‘Why not?’ He squeezed my hand, pressed play on the CD. Started to sing. I grinned and sat back in my seat, watched the traffic and the fields pass, laughed at Leo getting the words wrong, joining in with the chorus.

‘You sure you know where we’re going?’ I peered out of the window, trying to catch the names of towns, looking for clues.

‘Yup. Memorized the route.’ Leo looked so pleased with himself that it made me smile. I nudged him gently.

‘Wow.’

‘Yeah,’ he said, grinning, ‘I’m pretty amazing like that. Total hero.’

‘You are amazing, Leo.’

‘Well, thanks,’ he said, not even bothering to disguise his blushes. ‘Say it again; I like it.’

‘No. Then you’ll get all big-headed. Leos are arrogant too, you know. Well, they can be.’

Leo stared out of the windscreen, overtaking, then briefly caught my eye. The look made me blush. ‘You know, it’s a good job I think you’re amazing too, isn’t it?’ he said.

‘You do?’

‘I do. And don’t laugh.’ He frowned. ‘It’s not funny. It’s seriously affecting my ability to be a useful human being. Sue says I mope.’

‘Mope?’

‘Yes. I had to stop myself from storming the Grange paratrooper-style, stealing you out of there under cover of night. Or from hanging out outside your window like that idiot Romeo.’

‘Romeo was an idiot?’

‘Well, I always thought so. Until I started to experience some of his angst. Now I have more empathy.’

My cheeks ached from smiling. ‘Really?’

‘Yes. My least favourite of all the tragic heroes, because quite frankly he has no gravitas. Can’t hold a candle to Othello. Even old Macbeth is more interesting, and you know how I feel about him. Look, nearly there. We need to turn off here. Let’s hope the traffic doesn’t get any worse.’

London. I’d never been to London, didn’t know what to expect. As the evening turned truly dark we rumbled down another busy road.

‘Leo?’

‘Umm hmm.’

‘Are we going where I think we’re going?’

‘That would be telling.’