You Against Me (22 page)

‘Mum, don’t do this.’

She glared at him. ‘I don’t have to see where you’ve hidden it. Put a splash in the coffee and hide it away again.’

He wished he had a brother. Even an older sister would be nice. Hundreds of sisters in fact, all older than him. They could take it in turns.

‘All right,’ he said. ‘Just one splash. A really small one.’

She looked so grateful, like some kind of desperate ghost, as he went to fetch the bottle from his room.

After saying goodbye to Karyn at the door, they walked in silence down the stairs and across the courtyard. The main gate was shut so they had to climb it. Jacko swung over easily in one clean move.

‘Prat,’ Mikey said, to even things up.

Jacko grinned, licked a finger and held it out, like he’d scored a point.

Everything was making Mikey angry – Karyn and Jacko hooting with laughter about something while he was upstairs wrestling the sherry bottle back from Mum; the fact that they were going to be late for work and he’d be blamed, because Jacko had a perfect track record, so how could it be his fault? Even the air, hot and dry and full of food smells, was pissing him off. He hadn’t eaten anything all day. He’d wanted to get to the pub and have something before his shift started and now there wasn’t time. Everything felt wrong.

‘So,’ Jacko said as they got in the car, ‘Karyn’s on form. I’d forgotten how funny she is.’

‘Yeah, she’s hilarious.’

Jacko frowned as he turned the key in the ignition. ‘You want to tell me what the matter is?’

‘Definitely not.’

‘Come on, Mikey, what’s wrong?’

‘Nothing.’

They pulled away from the estate, past the newsagent’s, the laundrette. A man was standing outside with a plastic cup of something. He didn’t have a shirt on.

Jacko pointed at him. ‘Bet he’s put it in the washer.’

Mikey didn’t think it was funny at all.

‘Why did you say you’d take Karyn out for a drive?’ he said.

‘Why not?’

‘You fancy her?’

‘I was making her feel good.’

‘By coming on to her? Give me a break.’ Mikey shook his head, as if that was the most ridiculous thing he’d ever heard. He knew he was being a bastard, but he couldn’t stop.

Jacko said, ‘You need to look after her, that’s all I’m saying.’

‘You don’t have to help, Jacko. Really, no one’s asking you to.’

Jacko’s face clouded over. They drove past the post office, past Lidl, towards the edge of town. ‘Listen, man,’ he said, ‘I’m only telling you this because I’ve known your family for ever and I care about you. Ellie Parker’s got nice tits and no one’s popped her cherry, but she’s sending you right off track.’

‘We weren’t even talking about her, we were talking about Karyn.’

‘Same thing.’ Jacko eyed him steadily. ‘You’ve got to stop sniffing round that girl. I saw the way you looked at her in court. You’re losing it.’

‘I’m not losing anything. She was part of the revenge plan, that’s all.’

‘You keep telling yourself that.’

‘I will, because it’s true.’

Mikey wound his window down and stuck his elbow out, furious with Jacko. He was jealous. It was simple. Ellie was a cut above and Jacko wouldn’t stand a chance with her.

They drove in silence for a bit, past fields of pigs standing around in their own crap, past a farmhouse with a table outside, selling pots of jam and new potatoes. Mikey dug about in his pocket for his tobacco and made himself a rollie. He didn’t offer Jacko one. He didn’t seem to notice though, was humming along to some rubbish on the radio.

They were near the coast now. It was a long straight road. They passed a row of cottages with rabbits for sale, firewood, horse manure.

Mikey felt his chest clear as they got closer to the sea. The sky was cloudless. Blinding. He began to calm down.

He waggled the tobacco at Jacko. ‘You want me to make you one?’

‘Thanks.’

He made it nice and thick. He even lit it for him, which was a sign of something brotherly.

‘Maybe we should be lifeguards,’ Jacko said as he took the cigarette. ‘We always wanted to do that, remember?’

It was true, they’d always fancied it when they were kids. The lifeguards had a hut on the beach and a blackboard that said,
YOUR LIFEGUARD TODAY IS
… and then the names. They always had cool names – Troy, Guy, Kurt. They had regulation red shirts and they sat around looking at girls and occasionally moving flags and yelling at kids to get off the rocks. The tide came in from two directions, so the job did have some responsibility, and there was always something to look at – the skiboarders, the surfers. Sometimes a yacht would sail by, or three RAF planes would zip ridiculously fast along the horizon, followed seconds later by their sound.

‘What do you reckon, Mikey? We’ll get jobs as lifeguards if the cooking doesn’t work out?’

‘We could do that,’ Mikey agreed.

Jacko inhaled a chestful of smoke and blew it out. ‘You and me, man.’

Round the corner they swung a left, and there, sitting on the grass verge, were a couple of girls – map in hand, rucksacks, walking boots, the whole thing.

‘Hey,’ Jacko said as they drove past. ‘Let’s give them a lift.’

‘Let’s not, they look religious.’

Jacko laughed, put the car in reverse and roared back. He pulled in to the verge and leaned across Mikey to the window. One of the girls looked up, then the other.

Jacko swung his shades on to the top of his head. Seeing his eyes seemed to make them relax; one of them smiled, the blonde one. ‘Hi,’ she said.

‘You two lost?’

‘We’re fine, thanks. Just having a break.’

‘You’re looking at a map. You must be lost.’

‘Not really.’

The dark one looked down, said something in a low voice to her friend and she looked down too, tracing her finger across the map. Mikey watched them closely. He recognized something in the way they didn’t look up again. He’d seen it in Karyn before, how she could ignore something that was right in front of her and hope it would go away.

Jacko decided to give out names, obviously thought it might help. ‘He’s Mikey,’ he said, ‘and I’m Jacko.’

The blonde one smiled again. ‘And together you’re Michael Jackson?’

Jacko thought that was funny. The other girl did too; even Mikey found himself smiling. That was better. That was what you did with girls – you laughed at their jokes and made them relax.

‘So,’ Jacko said, getting his confidence up, ‘you want a lift then?’

The dark one said, ‘Actually, we’re OK.’ She stood up, hauled her rucksack onto her shoulders and held her hand out for her friend, who took it and stood up. ‘Nice to meet you,’ she said. ‘We’re going now.’

‘Don’t be like that,’ Jacko told her. ‘Come on, let us buy you a coffee. Or a beer. We work in a pub. Are you old enough for beer?’

The blonde one smiled again. ‘We’re old enough.’ Mikey could see she was tempted. But the dark one was wary, and she seemed to be in charge.

‘Leave it,’ Mikey said. ‘They don’t want to.’

‘Yeah, they do, they just need persuading.’

Jacko let the car slide away, down the lane, trailing them. They looked vulnerable walking away, easy to follow. So much to do with girls made Mikey feel guilty now – stuff on TV, porn lined up in the newsagent’s, song lyrics, page three of the
Sun
. He was aware of it all in a new way, and he really didn’t want to be. What was he supposed to do about any of it?

Jacko called out of the window to them. ‘Come on, ladies. Don’t ignore us.’

They were both pretty. Both nice girls.

‘Can you go away now?’ the dark one said.

Jacko tutted at her. ‘Be nice to us. We only want to give you a ride.’

She turned to him, her eyes flashing. ‘A ride? Piss off, you’re not even funny.’

‘You were laughing just now.’

‘Come on,’ Mikey told him, ‘let’s go, it’s not worth it.’

‘Yeah,’ she said. ‘It really isn’t.’

‘Don’t fancy you anyway!’ Jacko yelled out of the window, before roaring off, leaving them with thick black exhaust smoke.

Mikey slunk down in his seat. ‘You shouldn’t’ve done that.’

‘It’s your fault.’

‘My fault? How?’

‘You cursed us,’ Jacko said, stabbing a finger at Mikey. ‘You changed the rules of the universe when you fell in love with the enemy.’

Mikey slapped his hand on the dashboard. ‘I’m not in love with her. We talked about this.’

‘Then ask yourself why you haven’t told anyone about her, not Karyn, not your mum. Why the big secret?’

‘The plan didn’t work, did it? Sue opened her big gob so Ellie knew who I was, then she got her psycho-brother to beat me to a pulp and now it’s over. What’s the point of telling Mum and Karyn that? They take the piss out of me enough as it is.’

Jacko grinned and Mikey wondered how he could see anything to smile about. ‘Well, then Sue saved you from yourself.’

‘I didn’t need saving. I had a plan.’

‘It was flawed.’ Jacko turned in his seat. ‘For days you’ve been at half mast – no girls, no drinks after work, no fun. If you’re sulking ‘cos you got mashed, then do something about it. We’ll go back with weapons if you like. We’ll take Woody and the others. We’ll get bombs and guns and kick his arse for good.’

Why couldn’t Jacko let it go? What an idiot. ‘It’s over, OK? I made a prick of myself. Ellie set me up and I’ll never see her again. So leave it, will you? There’s nothing to be done.’

Ellie googled the word ‘rape’, but got the spelling wrong and brought up details of a sailing supplier that specialized in synthetic hemp. It made her smile for the first time in days. She changed ‘rope’ to ‘ripe’, expecting plums and tomatoes, but got some database reference manual instead, which made everything serious again. When she typed in the right word, she discovered that half of all girls experience some form of sexual abuse (from inappropriate touching to rape) before they are eighteen.

Everywhere, girls were being attacked. She made herself a jam sandwich and ate it looking out of the kitchen window.

Karyn was lying on her back, almost entirely covered by the duvet. She looked sweet, like she’d been tucked in. But when Ellie switched on the lamp …

No!

Ellie grabbed two packets of crisps and ate them quickly, one after the other, while she checked out the fridge and both food cupboards. Sometimes Tom hid his chocolate muffins somewhere other than the bread bin, but there was nothing. Maybe she could go out and get one? Morning had barely begun, but the bakery on the high street opened at six-thirty. She went to the hallway, pressed her ear to the front door and listened. Nothing. Even the wind, which usually whipped round the corner of the house and made the letterbox bang, was silent. She opened the door a fraction and checked along the length of the lawn in both directions. No one was about.

But there. What was that? A bird, with a splash of white on its chest, like milk on an oil slick. It swayed on the top branch of a tree in the lane and looked right at her. Was it a magpie? A jay? It cocked its head to one side and chuckled. It had little black eyes.

She waved a finger at it. ‘Hello.’

It tipped its head at her and opened its wings. She was amazed by a flash of purple, a totally mad colour for a bird – like something a king would wear to bed. She watched as it lifted itself into the sky, over the top of the house and away. She could hear its cry for ages. It gave her something to hold on to, something strangely reassuring.

She ran down the front steps and across the lawn. It was brilliant – both her legs worked, she didn’t get caught in a cyclone or struck by lightning, there were no crowds waiting at the gate with fists full of stones. She was making too much of it. It was totally obvious. In other countries there were wars. Right now, in some part of the world, someone was being burned alive in the street. And here she was, full of silly doubts about her brother – too freaked out to go to court and defend him.

As she came out of the lane and turned into Acacia Avenue, she noticed how wide the sky was overhead – not the grim little strip above the lane, but a whole street full of sky.

The world was beautiful.

She noticed everything as she walked – the daisies scattered on the grass verge, how they were still in shadow, waiting for the sun before they opened, like sleeping children. How the blossom hung so heavy on the cherry trees. The aeroplane, silver and tiny, glinting up there among a few wisps of cloud. Funny, she thought, to think of all those people strapped to their seats high above her head.

It wasn’t far. Only two more roads, past the church and round the corner. There was the bakery – its fluorescent strip winking – next to the charity shop, which was shut, next to the newsagent’s, which was just opening. The air smelled sweet.

A bell tinged as Ellie went in. A fat woman huffed up from a stool, clutching a magazine to her chest. She looked fed up. ‘Yes?’

There were iced buns and doughnuts, gingerbread men and biscuits shaped like stars covered in silver sprinkles.

‘Do you have any chocolate muffins?’

The woman pointed to a tray in the window. ‘We’ve got croissants. They’ve got chocolate in.’

‘OK.’

The tongs the woman unhooked from a place by the till were thick with sugar. How could they be used when the day was so new?

‘Just the one, is it?’

The woman was gasping from bending and straightening, from asking the question. Ellie felt bloated watching her.

‘Just one, yes.’

That’s what happened if you ate cake. You turned into a fat old woman. But before you got there, you turned into a girl like Alicia Johnson, who ate her packed lunch in the school toilets so no one could see how much she shovelled into her mouth.

These last weeks, Ellie had understood Alicia. But after this cake, she was going to stop cramming herself full of food. She was going to stand in solidarity with her brother and hold her head high.

‘Eighty-five pence then.’

Ellie took the paper bag, collected her change and left.
Ting
. Into the street.

But there, right outside the door, was a dog. A big dog with a thuggish face and bowed legs like a cowboy. Its lead was looped through the railing, and as it strained towards her she cowered in the doorway.