The Baby (9 page)

Read The Baby Online

Authors: Lisa Drakeford

‘Serves him right.' Ben does not sound very sympathetic.

‘You don't know him like I do.'

‘I know him well enough to know that he knocked up your best friend.'

Alice frowns. She doesn't understand what this means but wonders if Jonty has been committing more domestic violence to Nicola.

Olivia's voice sounds twisted. Alice imagines her sister's pretty face all screwed up. ‘He tried to tell me it was a one-off, but I know it wasn't. Nicola told me.'

There's a bang and a laugh. One of those harsh, sarcastic laughs which does not mean something funny has just happened.

‘When I realized it was his, I thought that he might have … forced himself on her.'

‘Attacked her, you mean?'

‘Yeah.'

‘Oh God. Really? You think he could?'

‘Wouldn't put it past him. He's a bit handy with his fists, isn't he? But anyhow, Nicola told me how it happened.'

There's some sobbing. Then nothing.

Alice stares at the shower curtain, spots some mould which is growing along the hem. She should inform her parents that it needs cleaning, although she should not do this just now.

Ben's voice interrupts the silence. ‘You haven't forgiven her, have you?'

‘No.' This word is shaky.

‘So you've seen Jonty many nights since it happened, but you haven't forgiven your best friend?'

‘Ben, she betrayed me. The worst thing you could do to a best friend. She had sex with my boyfriend. And I'm supposed to forgive her just like that? These things take time …'

Alice lifts her head in bewilderment. Her eyes widen in surprise. Jonty had sexual intercourse with Nicola. Now that
is
a strange turn of events. She tries to imagine Jonty with
Nicola but she just cannot picture it. Then again, she cannot actually visualize sexual intercourse at all. She has seen pictures in textbooks and none of the illustrations look like Nicola or Jonty. Does this mean Jonty is the father of the baby?

The next words from her sister are so quiet that Alice has to strain her ears and hold her breath to hear. ‘Have you seen her a lot?'

‘Yeah.' Ben lowers his voice. ‘She was in hospital for ages. Livvy, she's really miserable. It cheered her up so much when you met up with her that time.'

‘You're very close to her now, aren't you?'

‘Yeah, we've been close for a while now, Livvy. Right now she needs every friend she can get. I think you should try to make up with her properly. For her sake.'

‘Oh God.' Her sister starts to cry. Alice hopes that Ben, who is a nice person, will try to comfort her. Because right now, Alice cannot. She is, after all, supposed to be asleep.

Alice presses her thumbs together and notices how they go red around the nails as she listens to her sister sobbing. It is a horrible sound. She fiddles with her bracelet. The one Olivia brought back from a school trip to France. She remembers the week. How she was left alone with just her mum and dad to talk to. How there was no big sister to chat with. How she used to curl up every night in her sister's big bed. To breathe her sister's soft scents which were imprinted in her pillow. It was a hollow, lonely week.

It is too distressing to stay in the bathroom any longer. So she stands up, switches off the light, unlocks the bathroom
door and avoids looking at the floor where the illegitimate baby was born.

It's nice to think that Nicola allows her to feed the baby now.

Amethyst is going to need a good grooming before she can even think about going to sleep.

‘Olivia, how do you make friends?'

They are walking to school, Alice in her school uniform, Olivia in skinny jeans and a hoodie. It is a good day. It is nice to walk to school with your sister. It does not happen very often. Olivia's timetable means that she often walks in later. It is pleasant to walk in the spring sunshine with Olivia, instead of being alone.

Olivia frowns and purses her lips. ‘Um … it's a bit difficult to explain. It kind of happens without you realizing.'

Alice is doubtful. She cannot imagine having a friend without realizing. She has Sandy and she has her horses. But she is not sure if these count.

‘But how do you get them in the first place?'

They walk out of the village, past the old farmhouse which gives Alice the spooks. It is old and run-down and nobody lives there any more. She has heard that it is haunted. She speeds up her steps.

Olivia moves her bag from one shoulder to the other. ‘You kind of spot someone you think you might have something in common with and tell them something about yourself. And then you ask questions about them.'

Alice nods and tries to imagine doing this. ‘But not about my farm.'

Olivia stops in her tracks. She gives her a careful look. ‘No. Definitely not about that. That's the kind of thing you keep to yourself. Other people might think it's a bit weird.'

This is true. There are one or two people she has told about her farm and they have all laughed and moved away. She looks up at her sister admiringly. She thinks about the crowd of friends she has, how popular her sister is. The blood rushes to her head to think that she will ever have so many friends. She knows exactly why her sister is popular: she is kind and pretty and a really good listener. She is fun. She fits in. Alice will never fit in. Her heart is heavy with the thought.

Just one friend would do.

The school comes into sight. A sprawling campus of new and old buildings with crowds of people coming from all angles to meet at the school gates.

‘So, if I told them my name and how old I am, this might work.'

Olivia sucks on her bottom lip. ‘Sort of. Um, you need to decide that they're the right kind of person. And that you'd want them as your friend.'

Alice nods thoughtfully. It seems very complicated. Much more complicated than her French homework, for instance. She wishes there were a textbook which she could study. One that would take her through the process step by step. She could cross off each instruction like she does with Design Technology.

They meander through the gates with a throng of buzzing people. It makes Alice dizzy to think that she could make friends with any of these people. There are cries of greeting, hugs and high fives. Some of the people look sleepy and grumpy. Others like they have not seen their friends for ages. Olivia waves to five people. Alice counts. She herself waves to no one.

They stand at the entrance. Alice spots Ben over by the sixth-form centre. He has his head down and looks sad. She wishes he would lift his head because at least she could wave at him. Then she could be like everybody else. But he does not lift his head. She realizes that he has not been to the house for five days now. Not since the time that she sat on the bathroom floor and listened in on their conversation.

She nods over to him. ‘There's Ben,' she says to her sister.

Olivia nods glumly and answers, ‘I know.'

‘Isn't he going to wait for you?' She is suddenly fearful of her sister's reply.

Olivia sounds vague, like she is not really thinking. ‘Probably not.'

The bell for registration sounds; it hits a breeze and floats away.

‘Aren't you friends any more?'

Olivia shrugs her shoulders like she does not care. But something about the set of her mouth makes Alice think that she really does. ‘Um … I think he's a bit annoyed with me right now.'

Alice wants to ask questions at this. There are a tumble of
them on the end of her tongue. She opens her mouth and wonders how to broach any of them.

But Olivia seems in a rush. She hitches up her bag and takes a step away. ‘That's the bell. I'll get slaughtered if I'm late one more time this week.' She looks quickly at her sister, nodding towards the emptying playground. ‘And you need to go too. Don't you have assembly today?'

With her timetable firmly imprinted in her brain, Alice knows only too well when she has assembly. She had committed the timetable to memory from day two of year seven. She is good like that. And no, assembly is not until tomorrow.

Olivia rushes off with a backwards wave so that she does not see the one and only wave which Alice is able to offer on this April morning.

Alice has the opportunity to try out her instructions on that very day. She is in the library. It is lunchtime. She has eaten her sandwiches in the corner of the netball courts where hardly anyone goes. She checked on her dogs Agate and Onyx while she was there, but no one noticed.

She has her head in an Eoin Colfer book. It is really rather good and if it was not for the earlier conversation with Olivia then she might have been able to immerse herself in the story. She is in her favourite corner: out of the way of most of the activity, yet within eyesight of the friendly librarian who Alice really admires. Any trouble and she is within easy vision of a member of staff. And this is how Alice likes it. Always.

Dotted around the library are a few individuals sitting and
reading like Alice. It is a sunny April lunchtime so most of the school are outside enjoying the fresh air. There are a huddle of year seven boys over by the junior non-fiction, some year seven girls standing by the window and a gang of year eight boys ogling the graphic novels.

Every one of the individual readers is a prospective friend for Alice. She remembers how Olivia said they must have something in common, so all of these children with their heads in their books must have an enjoyment of reading as a shared interest.

Her heart glows with this thought. She could suddenly have so many friends.

She places her book down carefully, pushing a bookmark between
pages 146
and
147
. She is as quiet as a mouse.

She likes the look of a girl two tables down. She has messy blonde hair scraped back with a band and from where Alice is sitting she can see her knees jiggle up and down under the table. She does not look fashion-conscious. These people make Alice nervous because she does not understand changing fashion trends. This girl has on a school uniform and there do not appear to be any telltale accessories to suggest a strong liking for fashion.

With weak knees Alice stands up and walks towards the girl. She is reading a Jacqueline Wilson book – one which Alice read last year. It is a good book and she wonders if, later on when they are friends, they might discuss it.

In a strong, confident voice, because Olivia says it's not good to sound nervous, Alice blurts out, rather louder than
she expected, ‘Hello. I'm Alice Wilkes. I live at 28 Northgate Road, Prenton, Leicestershire, LE56 6TD. I am currently eleven years old although I'm due to be twelve soon. Who are you?'

The blonde girl looks up from her Jacqueline Wilson, startled, with wide, frightened eyes. She swallows and for a brief second looks around to check if Alice is speaking to her.

But the look is very short because it is interrupted loudly and rudely by the bunch of year seven girls who have moved behind the blonde girl. Alice failed to see them come over – she was so focused on her introduction.

Alice watches anxiously as the year sevens hoot with laughter. They literally cannot seem to contain themselves. They go bright red, they stuff fists into their mouths and they cross their legs in hysterics. One of them even mimics Alice. This, Alice thinks miserably, is especially cruel. She feels a flush rise up from the base of her spine. It prickles her neck and reaches her cheeks within seconds.

She knows she has done something wrong when the blonde girl snaps shut her book without even keeping the page. She stands up unsteadily while stuffing it into her bag, goes as red as Alice herself and mumbles something about having to go to a club.

This is an excuse. There are no clubs on a Wednesday lunchtime as all the teachers have to attend a meeting. She knows this for a fact.

She stands rooted to the spot in front of the mean, laughing year sevens, watching the blonde girl leave the room. They are making a lot of noise now. They are still laughing so much
that some of them look fit to burst.

The librarian, who must have seen the whole incident from her desk, sidles up. She takes off her glasses and looks sternly at the year sevens. ‘Girls – I am going to have to ask you to leave if you can't be quiet in here. Some people are trying to work.'

She places a hand on Alice's shoulder which is very hot. She speaks kindly. ‘Alice dear, would you mind doing me a little favour?'

Alice nods half-heartedly, her brain still burning.

‘Would you mind taking this book to the staffroom? Mrs Crawford needs it for fifth lesson.'

Alice nods again. Relieved to have an excuse to flee. In fact, maybe the librarian has done it on purpose. ‘Of course,' she whispers, finding her voice suddenly broken and trembling.

She takes the book from the librarian and leaves the room. She might just have enough time after she has dropped off the book to go to the toilets and check on Quartz, Amethyst and Malachite.

Alice's favourite place in the whole wide world is the meadow at the end of her road. She likes it for a lot of reasons, but today it is because the sun is shining; it is a Saturday morning; she has no school and she is with her friend Sandy.

There are signs of spring. This makes her stomach feel light and airy. Maybe she'll be an environmentalist when she leaves school. She appreciates the environment much more than her peers.

There are bursts of birdsong, for instance. They chatter and jabber in the hawthorn hedge to her left and she pictures them tending to the beginnings of their nests and chirruping about their territory.

It is before nine o'clock. This is early for a Saturday morning. But she has never been one to sleep in. Olivia, for instance, lies in her room all hot and fusty till midday if she is allowed. But Alice cannot seem to do this. Besides, there is the farm to tend to and Sandy is usually nosing at her door from eight o'clock.

So her mum has agreed, now that she attends secondary school, that she can take Sandy out for an early-morning walk, just as long as she does not wake the rest of the house or return later than ten because of her piano lesson.

Other books

The Wizard And The Warlord by Elizabeth Boyer
The Samurai's Daughter by Sujata Massey
Darlings by Ashley Swisher
A Dog With a Destiny by Isabel George
Where I'm Calling From by Raymond Carver
Salt by Adam Roberts
Chasing the Skip by Patterson, Janci
Windblowne by Stephen Messer
Irish Fairy and Folk Tales by Edited and with an Introduction by William Butler Yeats