It was wonderful giving him the details of our lives. His smiles kept us warm. He’d drink the cocktails Mum made and listen to our stories and then he’d kick off his shoes and say, ‘So, ladies, you want to hear about my day?’
He told Mum to come off benefits and he opened a bank account and put money in it every week.
He took her out to buy new clothes.
He introduced her to his friends. They went to wine bars and fancy clubs.
He couldn’t believe what a sheltered life she’d had – pregnant straight out of school and never been to university or done any travelling. He bought tickets to take her to Paris for the weekend. He asked if I’d be a sweetheart and stay with Granddad by myself? ‘Give me the chance to spoil your mum, eh?’
I was an angel. A princess. A sweetheart.
One day, after John officially moved in with us, he sent Mum a text saying he wouldn’t be home.
I said, ‘So, where do you think he is?’
And Mum said, ‘I don’t know, Lex. He didn’t say.’
‘But you must have an idea? Like, do you think he’s with friends, or is it a work thing?’
‘It’s not a work thing. I rang the reception.’
‘You asked if they knew where your boyfriend was?’
‘No, of course not. I didn’t even tell them it was me, just asked to be put through and they said he left hours ago.’
I suggested some places he could be that were so silly they could never be true. I said he was probably in Russia on a spy mission or he’d been sent to the moon because he was a secret astronaut. I said maybe he’d bumped his head and forgotten who he was or he’d been stolen by aliens and experimented on. Mum laughed so much she cried. I hugged her, and we stood there holding one another up in the kitchen.
‘Precious girl,’ she said.
She called John up and left messages. Then she called his friends and asked if they knew where he was. John came back the next day and called her hysterical. He said she was raving, and he’d had enough. He went in the bedroom and locked the door and Mum stood outside and banged and banged.
For days after that, he wouldn’t speak to her. He wouldn’t look at her either. He walked out of the room if she walked in. He cooked alone, ate alone and even bought himself a mini-fridge to keep his stuff in.
‘What did I do?’ Mum kept saying.
When he eventually told her, he had a whole list. She was trying to trap him. She was small-town stupid. She could barely hold a conversation. She had no original thoughts. She was a millstone dragging him down. She was driving him crazy with her irrational jealousy.
We made him an apology snack – blueberries and orange slices in the shape of a face, with chocolate fingers for hair. We brewed a pot of tea and put everything on a tray and took it up to his study, pretending we were servants.
‘Good girl,’ Mum said as we crept back down the stairs.
The next day he came home from work clutching twelve long-stemmed roses. One for each day he’d hurt her. He was sorry. He didn’t know what he’d been thinking. He was a fool and didn’t deserve her. All week he bought her gifts – scarves and perfume and lingerie. When the roses died, he filled the sitting room with lilies and we had to open the window because the scent was so strong we could taste it.
He bought tickets for a cruise. She was the love of his life and he wanted to take her away. I’d be bored on a boat, he told me, so why didn’t I stay with Granddad again? He knew he could depend on me.
I was precious. A good girl. Dependable.
9
‘So, the school put me on report.’
‘Well,’ Cerys said from her place on the window ledge, ‘you can hardly blame them.’
‘And John grounded me for a month and is making me pay for the broken glass. To be honest, I don’t know why the head even told him. She could have punished me privately, or just told my mum, but no – she insisted on a family meeting. She even offered them parenting classes. I hate her. Next time, I’ll throw her out of the window.’
‘I wouldn’t do that – you’d hate jail more.’ Cerys raised her arms behind her head and yawned, her mouth as pink and clean as a cat’s.
‘You told me to be get a hobby.’
‘Hey, this isn’t my fault! I didn’t tell you to swear at your drama teacher or chuck chairs around.’
‘Mr Darby deserved it. He wanted me to read for the part of a strange and deformed slave.’
‘That was a bit insensitive.’ Cerys picked up her phone and swiped the screen open. ‘Talking of which – I haven’t heard from your brother for over a week. You’d think he’d have made contact over the Easter holidays, wouldn’t you? Do you have any idea what’s going on with him?’
‘He’s not my brother.’
‘Thanks, that’s helpful.’ She clicked her phone off and slapped it back on the ledge. Then she opened her bag and took out her vape. She took five long puffs without looking at me once.
‘Want to hear my idea?’ I said.
‘Do I have a choice?’
‘I’m going to stay away from home as much as possible. John will like me better if I’m never there.’
Cerys looked down at me from her perch. ‘I thought you were grounded?’
‘I’m ignoring that.’
‘That’ll piss him off more. You can’t just not go home.’ She sucked on her vape again and exhaled a cloud of diamond-coloured mist. ‘Have you actually apologized? You don’t have to mean it. Damage limitation, you know?’
‘I’ve said sorry a million times. It doesn’t make a difference.’
‘Do something to show you’re going to change, then. Hey, why not start studying?’
She smiled at me so prettily I almost considered it. Then I remembered why I’d come to see her in the first place. It wasn’t for study advice. No, I was here for the kind of practical help that was only available from a girl as popular as her.
‘There’s a party tonight,’ I said. ‘Kass is coming back for it.’
It was as if I’d poked her with an electric stick. Everything about her came to attention. ‘Whose party?’
‘Someone he was at school with.’
‘Who exactly?’
‘He never said.’
‘Well, what did he say?’
‘Just there was a party and he was going.’
‘He’s not due back until after exams.’
‘He’s coming down for the weekend, because of everything that’s been going on.’
‘Why didn’t he tell me?’
I shrugged. I hadn’t a clue. But I hoped it was because things were cooling between them. He was coming home to see me.
Cerys reached for her phone and scrolled through. She obviously had no new messages. ‘When did he tell you about this party?’
‘A few days ago. I was in the head’s office listening to John go on about how crap the school is. Instead of offering parenting classes, he said, why didn’t they adopt traditional teaching methods – tough discipline, silent corridors, all that …?’
‘What’s this got to do with Kass?’
‘I asked to go to the bathroom and, since that’s a human right, they had to say yes. I called Kass and asked him to come home.’
‘And he told you about the party?’
‘No, he didn’t pick up. I had to go back to the stupid meeting and sit through John’s lecture on tiger teaching.’
‘What the hell’s that?’
‘It’s like private school – housemasters and endless lessons and corporal punishment. Anyway, the head told John that hitting children is illegal, and he said he was aware of that, but I needed a more structured programme. So she asked me if I enjoyed learning and I told her I hated it. Then John said I should be ashamed of myself and education was a privilege, so I said if he loved learning that much, why didn’t he play the role of a deformed monster in the school play? Then Mum said not to talk to John like that and it kind of kicked off from there.’
Cerys laughed. A genuine one. I joined in. I hadn’t laughed for days. It sounded strange, like it came from a soundtrack and didn’t have anything to do with my life.
I didn’t tell Cerys about John saying I was beyond redemption, or Mum shaking her head in despair or me running out of the room. I didn’t tell her that the empty playground looked sullen in the rain, like it was angry too. And I didn’t tell her that when, like a miracle, Kass rang, I closed my eyes as we talked and imagined him next to me.
‘You have to call him, Cerys.’
She shut her vape away in her bag. ‘Why do I have to do that?’
‘To find out where the party is.’
‘If he wanted me there, he would’ve told me about it.’
‘He’s not in charge, is he? It’s not his party.’
‘Why don’t you call him?’
‘He’s not going to give me the address when he knows I’m grounded. He says he’ll see me tomorrow, but I can’t wait that long.’
‘I don’t feel comfortable about this, Lexi. If I tell you where the party is and you get into trouble, it’ll be my fault.’
‘Loads of people are going. Hundreds, probably. Anyone could’ve told me. Surely you want to see Kass, don’t you? It’s been weeks.’
She frowned down at me. ‘Why do you care?’
I could’ve said, Because you’re my only way of getting into the party and I can’t stand another minute without him.
But instead, I said, ‘I know how much you’ve missed him.’
Cerys looked unsure, but not totally against it. ‘I suppose we could go for an hour.’
‘Great, so now we need to find out the address and get ourselves on the guest list. There’s a Facebook group, but it’s closed.’
She sighed and picked up her phone. ‘And let me guess – you don’t have an account?’
‘I don’t like the stuff everyone puts up – all their friends and pictures of what they’re doing. It’s depressing. It makes other people feel left out.’
‘They are left out,’ Cerys said. ‘But that’s because they’re not on Facebook.’
She insisted on making me an account. She put a raffia sun hat on my head (I insisted on a disguise) and stood me by the window to take a profile picture.
‘I look like a gnome.’
‘You look cute.’
‘I want to look passionate.’
‘Do you? Why?’
I smiled, so she wouldn’t know I was a threat. She added me as her friend.
She messaged a couple of people about the party and asked someone who was invited to get her included in the group. I liked watching her tapping away on her phone all slick and certain. She reminded me of a bank robber I’d seen in a film, spinning dials on a safe.
‘Sorted.’ She clicked her phone off and sat with it in her lap. ‘I still don’t know if this is a good idea …’
‘It’s the best idea ever. Now could you be my alibi when I call John? He’ll hunt me down otherwise.’
She closed her eyes as if she was exhausted. She wanted Kass and instead she had me like a splinter in her side. ‘I do not want your stepdad blaming me.’
‘It won’t be like that, I promise. I’ve got a plan. Just pretend your name’s Jamila, OK?’
She didn’t look happy about it, but she nodded. While I dialled John, she took out her vape again. Her addiction to fruit-flavoured nicotine was pretty excessive.
John picked up on the first ring. I put the phone to speaker. ‘Hi,’ I said. ‘Sorry to bug you at work, but I wanted to tell you the school let me leave detention early because I wasn’t feeling well, and on the way home I bumped into my friend, Jamila.’
‘And this is relevant why?’
‘She’s looking after me. We were right by her house when I began to feel worse, so I’m having a lie-down.’
Cerys looked at me wide-eyed, then shook her head in that new weary way.
‘Well,’ John said, ‘since you’re grounded, I suggest you get up from lying down and go home. I’m surprised your mother hasn’t let me know you’re not back yet.’
‘She’ll be at ballet class with Iris, so you can’t blame her.’
Cerys raised an eyebrow. Be nice, she mouthed.
‘Straight home after school,’ John said. ‘That was the agreement.’
‘But I’ve got stomach cramps. I almost fainted earlier. I think it might be an ovary or something.’
Cerys laughed. It made me laugh right back at her. I had to turn it into a groan to avoid suspicion.
‘I’m bleeding quite a lot too. Down there, you know … I really think I need to stay with someone female.’
‘Alexandra Robinson, I do not need you pulling any new stunts. I want you to go home immediately please.’
‘I can barely walk.’
‘You have twenty minutes to get there, or I add another week to the grounding.’
So I played the only card I had left. It was unfair to Cerys, but I was running out of options.
‘All right, John. I’m sorry to hassle you. Would you be able to have a quick word with Jamila’s mum first, though? It’s just that she’s quite worried about me.’
He was quiet then. He’d hate talking to some strange woman about female stuff. But he’d look heartless if he refused. What if I died on the way home?
Cerys was mouthing, ‘No, no!’ and waving at me in horror.
‘Please,’ I silently begged her.
She hopped off the ledge and walked to the door, shaking her head.
‘All right,’ John said. ‘Let me talk to the bloody woman. As if I haven’t got better things to do.’
His voice was raspy over the speaker. He sounded like a furious machine. It changed something in Cerys. She turned from the door and sat on the bed and put one hand on my arm, like she was saying she was on my team. I handed her the phone.
‘Hello.’ She deepened her voice. She sounded cold and very certain. ‘Is this Lexi’s father?’
‘Not exactly, but you can talk to me. What’s the problem?’
Cerys crossed her fingers and bit her lip. She was so well-behaved usually. This was like drawing her into a forbidden kingdom. ‘I don’t think she’s up to walking home.’
‘Seriously?’
‘Her cramps are quite severe. I’d drop her off myself, but I think she needs to rest. She’s very welcome to stay until she’s feeling better.’
I heard him sigh. But her kind of charm could swing anything, and I could tell he was faltering. ‘OK. I’ll get her mum to call later. Thanks for looking out for her.’
Cerys laughed as she switched my phone off. I thought she’d be angry that I forced her into it, but she wasn’t at all. ‘That was fun!’
I loved her in that moment. I was breathless with freedom.
‘Right,’ I said, ‘next step – can I borrow something to wear?’
10
When I was eleven and Kass was fourteen, he picked me up at the flat and walked with me on my first day of secondary school.
At the gate, he said, ‘Will you be all right?’
‘You’re leaving me?’
He looked longingly over at the AstroTurf where a whole crowd of kids were playing football and a whole crowd of other kids were standing about watching. I could see what he wanted, and I knew it’d be bad for his reputation to be seen with me. The trouble was – it’d be excellent for mine.
He said, ‘I’ll see you at break. Year Sevens have their own playground, so I’ll come and say hello. And I’ll probably see you in the corridors and stuff. But if anyone thumps you or shoves you in a dustbin or whatever, come and find me, OK? I’ll sort them out.’
At that moment, a group of boys came out of the school building and shouted to Kass. He pretended not to hear them. They shouted again, and he tensed as they came sauntering over. It was like magnets – him repelling them, but them being attracted to him. As they got closer, they clocked my fresh school uniform and my unscuffed shoes and the bright white A
lice band that was trying to stop my hair doing its untamed thing and one of them put his arm around Kass and said, ‘Chatting up the newbies, bro?’
‘She’s my stepsister.’
The boy looked me up and down before his eyes landed on my chest. ‘So, you’re related?’
‘I just told you,’ Kass said.
‘But stepsister means you’re not blood-related, right?’
He had a mocking smile and I had no clue what his words meant or why the other boys were laughing. But I knew Kass understood and was embarrassed. For the first time I felt I had something. Not the Iris something: not all that beauty and innocence, but something else – something to do with wild hair and budding breasts and the monstrous thoughts I had simmering behind my eyes. And that ‘something’ was embarrassing Kass.
My heart was slamming as I stepped towards the boy. I said, ‘Are you an idiot?’
The boy laughed and clicked his fingers at me.
I said, ‘Don’t laugh.’
They all laughed then. I looked at them, one by one, and they all thought I was hilarious. My face rushed with blood. I could feel it burning and I was ashamed. I thought I’d humiliated Kass, that I’d got it all wrong.
‘Fuck off,’ I said. ‘You’re a bunch of meatheads and you can all fuck off.’
Their laughter turned to high fives. They included Kass and he responded. He was laughing too now, and they stood about and looked at me some more and one of them asked some normal questions – like what my name was and what tutor group I was in.
Before he walked off with them, Kass nudged me and whispered, ‘Atta girl.’
It was one of Mum’s expressions. She used it when I’d done well against the odds. It meant I’d be fine. It meant I didn’t have to worry about kids shoving me in dustbins after all. It meant I could look after myself.
Kass never did come to the Year Seven playground to say hello and I never expected him to. Not long after that, his dad moved him to an academy school with an excellent sixth form.
It was only on alternate weekends, when his mum let him stay at ours, that we let down our guard and he was mine again. We’d camp on the sofa with our feet together in the middle, like sharing a bath. We’d get blankets and snacks and watch crap TV and talk about rubbish and laugh at everything. Sometimes we’d let Iris join us, but mostly we wouldn’t.
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