Lies Like Love (7 page)

Audrey disappeared too fast for him to stop her, and then he didn’t want to follow in case she thought he was some sort of stalker. He’d thought she’d stay out longer; it was only nine, and things were only just revving up. Then again, he’d see her tomorrow, he thought, as he wandered around for a while on his own, carrying the teddy by its arm, wondering if he should dump it. In the end he couldn’t do it. A group of kids from school huddled in a group by the ghost train and called out to him to join them, but it wasn’t fun any more. Especially not when Lizzy caught up with him.

‘Saw you before,’ she said.

‘Yeah?’ Leo walked on.

‘With Mental.’ Lizzy opened her mouth round the candy-floss, twirled her tongue into the sugar.

‘What?’

‘You with that new girl. What are you doing hanging around with her?’ She waited, and when he didn’t respond, taunted again, ‘She’s mental. Didn’t you hear what she did in Maths? She passed out, just like flat out on the desk and no one could wake her up. There was dribble all over. It was disgusting. She’s rank. Really manky.’

‘Oh, whatever, Lizzy. Just forget it, right?’ There’d been one party, last summer – Leo remembered now – and
Lizzy had been drunk. So had he. She’d sat on his knee, her hands worming on his thighs. He should have pushed her away. Big mistake.

Lizzy was grinning, her eyes small and hard, and although Leo had never sworn at a girl he felt like it then.

‘You know what,’ Lizzy shouted after him as Leo strode away, ‘I’ll find out the full story for you. Then you’ll thank me.’

He walked faster, didn’t look back, didn’t listen, left the field and went to meet Sue, who’d been visiting a friend in town and would give him a ride back.

‘Good night?’ she said, starting the car. He fiddled with the radio, tuning out of Radio 4, looking for something loud to stop him thinking.

‘Leo?’

‘Yeah, I guess so. Audrey didn’t hang around long. I got bored after that.’ Got harassed after that. Lizzy, what a cow. What a mean-hearted, cruel creature. She was so spiteful. Why did girls get like that? It was so pointless and boring.

‘Well, I suppose if she had her brother with her she had to get him home. He’s only little.’

‘True. Yeah.’ It was a good point. It could explain why she’d dashed away. He should have walked them home.

‘I shouldn’t worry if I were you.’

‘OK. I won’t worry.’ He glanced up at his aunt and half smiled.

‘It’s sweet though.’ She squeezed his hand, just once, quickly, and winked.

‘Stop it. We’re just friends. I’m going over there
tomorrow, to help Aud with some homework, OK?’ He’d sensed something wild in Audrey tonight, a spirit she kept tamped down, and Leo wanted more of that. His old life had shown him enough straight and boring to last him forever: a book full of straight ruled lines covered in uniform script, the answers perfectly performed, grammatically correct. But then, without warning, pages and pages of scribble. Black and hard and gouging through it all. Until this: like a poem, the words had begun to shine. Leo rubbed his forehead, squeezed his eyes shut, then opened them again and stared straight ahead, impatient to be home, impatient to be asleep so tomorrow could start.

‘Sure. Good,’ Sue said. ‘She’s a nice girl. Pretty too. Lovely, actually, although I agree – not your usual type. Not like those glamorous creatures I’ve seen in your photos on Facebook.’ Sue raised her eyebrows. Glamour wasn’t her scene.

‘Who says they’re my type? They’re just girls, Sue. Old friends. Who I don’t even keep in touch with any more.’

‘Just suggesting. Anyway, Audrey seems very sweet-natured. If anything, she’ll be a good friend.’

Leo nodded. It was true, he liked her. A lot.

‘I think she’s …’ He searched for a word he could use with Sue, settled on something objective, that didn’t make him sound too serious, too involved. ‘She’s kind of enigmatic.’

Sue chuckled. ‘Aha. Enigmatic.’

‘What?’ Leo shrugged his shoulders, his arms wide, empty. ‘You know, you could read a subtext into anything,
Sue.’ He put his hands in his hair, then rubbed them furiously over his face.

‘Leo, calm down. You know I’m just teasing. I’m glad you’ve found someone you like. I was beginning to worry.’

He nodded. Sue was deep, deeper than their banter suggested. And discreet. She’d had her own problems – life events, she called them now, which didn’t do justice to her story at all. He liked how she could be so pragmatic though, and took a deep breath, fixed his thoughts on the morning, wiping out the bits of the night Lizzy had spoiled.

‘Where’ve you been?’ Mum said. Her breath came in short sharp bursts as she stood in the hall, illuminated, the lights burning so bright they hurt my eyes. I squinted up at her.

‘Just out, sorry – it’s OK, we’re here now.’ I tried to hustle Peter past her and up to his room. It was way past his bedtime and I knew he’d be tired in the morning. ‘Sorry,’ I said again.

‘You don’t just go out, Aud. You know better than that.’ Mum grabbed my jacket, reeling me in.

‘Well, you weren’t here to ask, were you?’ I bit my lip. That had come out wrong. Peter went ahead and I gestured that he should go and clean his teeth.

‘Because I was at work earning money, which you’ve just been out throwing down the drain. Who’ve you been with?’

‘No one. We went to the fair. I’m sorry, all right?’

‘No, Audrey, it isn’t. I’ve been going spare. What if something had happened?’

‘What do you want me to say?’ I asked, turning back to look at her. Mum stepped forward and gripped my wrist with her left hand and poured whatever she’d been holding in her right into my palm.

‘What’s this?’ she said.

It was my pills. She’d found the ones in the bin, the
ones down the side of the sofa. The ones under my mattress. I swallowed and didn’t dare look at her. I should have chucked them somewhere else, somewhere she’d never have found them. Into the moat, that would have been better. Under the water.

‘Audrey –’ she was shaking her head – ‘do you realize what you’re doing? Do you realize how stupid you’re being?’ Her voice got panicky, tighter and tighter. ‘If you don’t take your pills, you’ll get very poorly, Aud.’

‘I won’t. I have been taking them. I have. Just … just not all of them, Mum,’ I said, trying not to cry, a throb beginning to beat between my ears, like your heart underwater, swollen and heavy. ‘They make me feel worse.’

Mum pulled me to her and held me so tight I almost couldn’t breathe. The pounding grew louder, pulsing in my brain, until, with my hands over my ears it was all I could hear.

The next morning Lorraine answered the door, a bright smile on her face. He stepped inside. The flat smelled better than before. She’d been hanging pictures, had a hammer in her hand, nails. A gust of air blew past and he heard a door slam somewhere.

‘Oh, hello, it’s Leo, isn’t it?’ Lorraine said, and Leo smiled back, shifting from one foot to another, then standing up straight, shoulders back.

‘Yeah, hi. I’m here to see Audrey. Homework?’ He gestured at his books. He’d brought them all, as if that proved it was his only motivation.

‘Oh. Oh, I’m sorry.’ Lorraine pulled a face, sympathetic, a bit sad. ‘Audrey’s not well this morning. Stupid girl’s not been taking her meds and got herself in a state. She gets bad sometimes, you know. So, she was up all night and so was I, sitting with her. I’ll have to take her to the doctor later, I reckon – she won’t be up for homework, Leo. Not today.’

It was a lot of information all at once. Audrey had seemed fine to him at the fair though. Better than fine: lovely, like Sue said. He felt his heart, pierced a little with last night and now the disappointment of not seeing her. Leo followed Lorraine, trying to catch everything. She
bustled into the kitchen, put down the tools and grabbed the kettle.

‘Do you want a drink? Something to eat? Peter’s watching a DVD. You can sit with him if you like, or stay and chat to me.’ She looked at him, slowly, waiting, her hands stuffed into the tight pockets in her jeans. When he didn’t answer she gabbled on: ‘I’ll understand if you’re busy. I’ve had to take the day off work myself to stay home and look after Aud.’

Lorraine offered him a chocolate biscuit. He took one. It seemed best to be polite.

‘Can I see her?’

‘Better not, love, not till she’s feeling brighter. She won’t want you seeing her in the state she’s in.’ She pulled another strange face, as if she had a series of masks, he thought, and this one made her neck tighten, the veins standing out like ropes. Under her make-up her face was pale; there were bags under her eyes.

‘Is she really unwell?’

Lorraine nodded slowly, but he didn’t want to pry.

‘I’d better go, then. But will you tell her I called? Say, when she’s ready, if she still wants me to help …’

‘Sure. And give my love to Sue, won’t you? Tell her I’m still on for Wednesday. Looking forward to it.’

Leo walked away from the Grange and paused as he crossed the moat. The water levels had crept higher and a rank smell rose from the surface, which was clouded with weeds and leaves. Something was rotting down there, he thought, and even the vaguest reflection was obscured by
the thick black sludge. Glancing back at the house, he stared at the window he thought might be Audrey’s, but the curtains were closed and the window was shut. Even if he called, she wouldn’t hear. He hoped Lorraine would give her his message.

Mum sent him away; she thought I didn’t hear. This was the start of it. I was a fly in a bottle, a rabbit trapped in wire, and the shine of the fair was dying like a cheap glow stick run dull. I should never have said anything to Leo about coming over, that was the problem. That and the Thing. I paced the room, three steps forward, three steps back, touched the walls with cold fingers, feeling the slick damp slime of water on my skin.

It had been waiting for me last night. Mum had put me to bed, my head still pounding, and then it had started. The thud in the back of my neck, the rumble in my brain, like a train, like a lorry, out of control, veering off edges, ploughing from high bridges and sailing into deep water. The sink and pull of the beat, metronomic, impossible, forced me out of bed and I marched to its tune, rubbing my arms, twisting my fingers, and tried not to hear the stories that bubbled in my brain. Stories of girls who would come up from the water, of how they were pushed, and how they died down there and how I would too: choking and strangled by weeds and the will of invisible hands.

‘Why did you have to spoil it?’ I whispered. ‘Why?’

The Thing had gone, but my head was hungover with those dreams. I watched Leo walk away. We were
supposed to have changed; Mum said this was home. But I was frightened and alone again and everything was as it always had been.

I shut my mouth and lay back down and listened to the water. It lurched and churned and everything I’d nearly had was sinking deep and under.

Audrey came back to school the following Wednesday. Leo had been looking out for her and when he saw her in the corridor she seemed different. He almost hadn’t spotted her, if he was honest. The fire had gone; in its place a pale shadow, dark circles under her eyes.

‘Hey.’ He walked over and stopped her with a gentle hand on her arm. She flinched and stepped back as if to skirt round him, then seemed to reconsider.

‘Are you OK?’ Leo said, because this time he really did want to know. She didn’t look quite right; Lorraine had been telling the truth after all. He’d wondered if maybe she’d been putting him off.

‘Are you better? I’m sorry you weren’t well. I came over – did your mum tell you?’ he said.

She nodded and sort of smiled, her eyes blinking too fast, checking over her shoulder. Her shoelaces were untied, he noticed, her jumper on inside out. But her hair was neat and tidy, the long blonde wave tamed into two schoolgirl plaits.

‘I can come again, if you like. Help with the essay?’

‘No. That’s OK. I’ve done it.’

‘Oh, fine. Good, well, shall I wait for you after school? I was going to go to the talk, you know, this archaeology thing? Do you fancy it?’ He was determined not to lose
the thread, sure he could get through if he kept trying, pull closer; mend this.

‘I have to get Pete.’ Her face was so hard to read today, opaque. Leo shifted his bag on to the other shoulder, the bell signalling the end of break telling him to get a move on. Right, so try something else.

‘Oh, yeah, I forgot. Shame. Well, do you want to get together tomorrow, then?’ This was starting to look like desperation. No more, Leo. This was her last chance.

‘No. Thanks though,’ she said, and walked away, hurrying into her classroom.

Audrey disappeared for the rest of the week. As the next few days drifted past, blurring into the weekend, he began to wonder if the way he thought she’d looked at him had been real. Well, he was busy with his work, with the farm, helping Sue and with his running, a bit of drawing, reading. He had enough to do. But still, when he thought of Audrey now, he didn’t quite believe that he’d ever held her hand or that she’d smiled and screamed like she was on fire.

Most days were OK. Never better than that though, and I tried to forget that there could be more. OK would have to do.

At least I had school, a safe place to go, so long as Lizzy wasn’t bothering me. She didn’t tend to when I was with Jen. Jen was solid, a proper girl, and I liked sitting with her and having what I had decided to call a friend.

‘You know what?’ Jen said to me the week after the fair, looking up and staring across the cafeteria, chewing her sandwich slowly.

‘No, what?’

‘Leo Bright is permanently staring at you, Aud.’

My head swam, different dizzy, and I looked for my stomach, which had dived to the floor. I was trying not to think about Leo; it was dangerous to even look his way. I had put the night of the fair away, shut it up safe, and I couldn’t let myself go there or feel like that again. But it was all I wanted, really. That wild, free feeling and Leo’s arm round me. I remembered the scratch of his thick duffle coat on my cheek and how his hand was bigger than mine.

‘He isn’t,’ I muttered, not following the line of Jen’s gaze in case I caught his eye and he came over. Jen turned to me and grinned.

‘If I were you, I’d be well chuffed. He’s cool. And sweet, really nice. One of the few guys in the sixth form who’ll even acknowledge us pathetic Year Elevens exist. You should capitalize on this, Audrey.’ There were a lot of things Jen thought I ought to do: go round to her house, meet her older mates who didn’t go to college, go to gigs with her, exhibitions in town, even stay the night. She kept inviting; I kept saying no. Soon she’d get it, and then what?

‘Yeah, he is nice,’ I had to say, because I owed it to Leo. He was better than nice, but I couldn’t find the words for it, for how he made me feel. ‘He lives near us. So I know him a bit.’

‘And?’

‘And nothing.’ I laughed and shrugged, trying to get the message across. ‘Anyway, I’ve got to go.’

Mum was waiting outside school in the car. She drove fast to the surgery.

‘So,’ said Mum, ‘you’re getting on all right, then?’ She took my hand, examined my fingernails and tutted.

I nodded. I was all right. Mainly because of Jen.

‘But Pete’s lonely, I think, Mum. I’m worried about him.’ I took my hand back and folded my arms.

‘Oh, he’ll settle in. It’s an upheaval. Kids at that age are adaptable, so don’t fuss, Aud. You’ve got yourself to be thinking of.’

‘Yeah, well, I don’t want him to be sad, do I?’

‘And I do?’

‘I didn’t say that.’

I stared at the clock. I was missing English now. Then French. And I’d learned my vocab.

‘It should be Dr Caldwell again,’ said Mum. I nodded.

‘So, you tell her everything, right?’

‘Yeah, OK.’

We were in and out in five minutes. Mum dropped me back at school and drove off to work. Dr Caldwell had looked at me, listened to Mum, printed the prescription and off we’d gone. Mum had picked up the pills, then ripped open the packaging and handed me one in the car.

‘There. You’ll feel better now. And don’t forget to pick your brother up. I’m working late.’

‘OK, Mum. All right.’ I swallowed it and kissed her cheek. She tasted chalky and hot. Too much powder.

‘See you, Mum,’ I called as she drove away, the horn tooting just once.

Jen and I often went to the art block at lunchtime. She could really draw – her pictures were up all over school, of cows and horses and sheep. She gave them personality; I hadn’t thought a sheep could have a personality. My chin in my hand, I watched her, admiring the speed of her pencils, how she knew where to shade, light and dark. She looked up and grinned at me, then pulled a new piece of paper in front of her.

‘Right. Stay there,’ she said.

‘What?’

‘Just keep still.’

I realized what she was up to and opened my mouth to protest.

‘No, be quiet. Don’t ruin it. I don’t usually do people. But I reckon I’ll give you a try, Audrey.’

‘Do you have to?’ I muttered.

‘Course. Just sit there and be still for ten minutes. All right?’

So she had me. And when Leo walked in I couldn’t move or even look in the other direction, but I saw Jen’s mouth twitch when he walked over, although her hand never paused.

‘Hey, Jen. Audrey,’ Leo said, looking at Jen mostly. Only once at me. It made my eyes hot. His thick dark hair was its usual mess. His mouth was still smiling, but it wasn’t the same. Something inside began to sink.

‘That’s good,’ he said, looking at Jen’s half-finished sketch.

‘You think?’

‘Yeah. I do. Very –’ He paused. I waited to hear what he was going to say. What word he would choose. But he didn’t finish the sentence, just shrugged, and that hurt too. It wasn’t supposed to hurt, I was supposed to have forgotten about the fair and how kind he was and how much I liked him. Because Leo was a good person. I felt that, like I felt sure that the sky was forever and that Peter was precious and that everyone deserved a chance.

‘Look –’ Jen suddenly stood up – ‘I’ll be back in a tick. Just need to ask Mrs Moore something, OK.’

And she abandoned me there, and I was alone with Leo, for the first time in ages. He shoved his hands deeper into his pockets, then folded himself into Jen’s chair, leaning forward across the desk.

‘You OK?’

I nodded.

‘Sure?’

‘Yeah.’ God, what did he think?

‘Good. So, you know, I’ve been meaning to say … Your mum told you about our annual bonfire party?’

‘What bonfire party?’ It was the first I’d heard of it.

‘Oh, well, it’s in half-term, Saturday evening. Sue says she’s invited you all, but I just wanted to mention it and say, well, I’m looking forward to it. To seeing you there. That is if you’re coming?’

‘I dunno. Mum doesn’t like going out much.’

‘Really? But she and Sue are quite pally, aren’t they? So, hopefully she’ll have remembered. Do come, if you can.’

‘OK.’

‘I mean it, I’d like it. Like to see you, I mean. At school, well, you can’t ever really talk at school.’

‘No. I guess so.’ The bell rang and I stood up. He had his hand on the picture Jen had been drawing. I couldn’t very well snatch it out from under his palm.

‘I’d better go,’ I said, ‘registration.’ He nodded, still smiling at me with his whole face, making me hot again and bothered again, and I knew how I felt wasn’t going to go away, no matter what I did.

‘See you, then, Audrey,’ Leo said, still standing there, still watching me, and I somehow unfixed myself from the spot and walked away.