Burning Bright
Page 4
This perfect moment.
‘River, Flynn, wake up. Please.’
I swam up towards Grace’s voice through a deep sleep. Flynn and I were still lying where we’d fallen asleep, our arms wrapped around each other.
I opened my eyes. Flynn was frowning, blearily, towards the end of the bed. I followed his gaze.
Grace was standing just a metre away in one of James’s old T-shirts, her hair tousled and her hands clasped anxiously together.
‘James says you have to get up, Flynn. It’s nine-thirty and he’s worried you’ll—’
‘What?’ Flynn sat bolt upright. ‘I have to go right now or I’ll be late for Goldbar’s.’ He glared at Grace. ‘Why didn’t you wake us earlier?’
Grace’s lip trembled.
‘Hey.’ I put my hand on Flynn’s shoulder. ‘It’s not her fault.’
‘Right.’ Flynn scowled. ‘Sorry.’
Grace nodded and scurried away.
Flynn blew out his breath, then leaped out of bed, scrabbling on the floor for his shoes. He pulled them on, then crept back onto the bed beside me.
He nuzzled my neck. ‘I wish I could stay,’ he murmured.
I ran my hand down his back. ‘Can’t you be late for work?’
He groaned. ‘Don’t tempt me.’ He scooped me up, wrapping the sheets round me. ‘I’ll call you later. Okay?’
We lay there for a moment, just staring at each other.
‘It was awesome being with you all night,’ he said.
‘The best.’ I gazed up at him. ‘This is the happiest I’ve ever been.’
‘Say what, babe?’ Flynn grinned – all cocky and happy. ‘This is just the beginning.’
He kissed me then pushed himself off the bed. I watched him lope away towards the door. He paused in the doorway, his hands on the door frame, as if he was going to turn round and say something.
I wanted to call him back. Back into bed. Back where I could run my hands down his smooth back and feel the muscles tensing under my fingers. I wanted to tell him how we couldn’t make anything better. How I wanted to keep things exactly as they were right now. Perfect. Complete.
But I said nothing. And he walked away.
I had a shower in the sweet little bathroom, then got dressed and wandered downstairs. James made Grace and me some toast, then he drove us home in his brother’s car.
He dropped me first, a couple of streets away from my house in case Mum saw us. I wandered dreamily home, my mind still focused on last night. As I turned my key in the door I reminded myself that I was supposed to have been at Emmi’s all evening.
Mum’s scream pierced through my head like a knife.
‘Oh my goodness, River. Where have you been?’ She rushed towards me like a whirlwind. Her face was all pale and her eyes strained and red. As she reached me, the relief on her face transformed into rage. ‘Emmi’s mum called here at one a.m., asking where Emmi was,’ Mum shrieked. ‘She thought Emmi was here. I thought you were with her. We’ve been up all night trying to find you.’
I stared at her, desperately trying to find a way of making out the whole thing had been a misunderstanding.
‘We changed our minds about staying in,’ I stammered. ‘We went to another friend’s house. It just got too late to call, so we crashed there, where . . .’
‘Don’t lie to me.’ Mum’s eyes were completely wild. She gripped my shoulders again. For a second I thought she was going to hit me. ‘Emmi’s mum called about an hour ago. Emmi was out all night too, that’s why she didn’t answer her phone either.’ Mum sucked in her breath. Then she lowered her voice. ‘You were with Flynn,’ she said. ‘Weren’t you?’
I gulped.
‘We just went to James’s house . . .’ I said. ‘We didn’t do anything wrong.’
Mum’s eyes widened. ‘Nothing wrong?’ She gritted her teeth. ‘What about lying to me yesterday? What about not answering your phone last night?’
My heart pounded. Of course, I’d switched off my mobile before we watched that stupid horror film. I’d been in such a daze this morning I hadn’t even bothered to switch it back on yet. ‘I’m sorry.’ I couldn’t see what else to say.
‘Sorry?’ Mum shook her head slowly. ‘I don’t know what’s happened to you, River. I really don’t. A few months ago you would never have dreamed of lying to me like that.’ She paused and when she spoke again her voice was so ice cold that it sent a shiver down my spine. ‘What has that boy done to you? Is he giving you drugs or something?’
‘Mum.’ The idea of Flynn – who I’d never even seen sip at a beer – pushing drugs at me was so ludicrous that I laughed.
Big mistake.
Mum grabbed my arm. Tight. ‘And I suppose you spent the whole night in bed with him too?’
My face reddened. Mum was the last person I wanted to talk to about sex, so she had no idea I’d told Flynn that I wasn’t ready yet.
‘Well? you’re too young for all of that.’ Mum drew herself up. ‘I don’t want you seeing him again.’
‘No.’ I wrenched my arm away. ‘You can’t make me.’
‘Oh yes I can,’ Mum snapped. ‘I’m going to talk to your father. I’m sure when he hears what a bad influence Flynn is, he—’
‘Dad won’t tell me not to see him,’ I yelled. ‘Dad’s not a total Nazi. Unlike you.’
‘Don’t talk to me like that. Get upstairs to your room.’
I stared at her again. Mum hadn’t tried to send me to my room since I was about twelve. I suddenly realised that what I’d said was true. There was no way she could make me do anything. Not anymore.
‘No.’ I spun round and pulled open the front door, my heart beating fast.
‘Get back here.’
I stalked outside and onto the pavement. A sense of power surged through me. Now, that really was a drug. I strode towards the bus stop, high on my own invincibility, ignoring the yells that followed me down the street.
7
I slowed down as I approached Goldbar’s, the boxing gym where Flynn worked on Sunday mornings in return for his boxing training. I’d never been there before, and I sensed that Flynn wouldn’t be entirely happy about me just turning up. I found the place easily enough. A tatty, faded awning hung over the two high windows. I hesitated for a moment, reluctant to go inside. Still. Flynn would understand. This was an emergency.
The front door – a heavy, steel fire door – was open, so I slipped inside and walked down a short concrete corridor. It opened out into a small reception area. Very basic – just a wooden table and a couple of chairs in the corner. In the distance, through a doorway, I caught a glimpse of three big punchbags in a row.
I went up to the man at the table. He was reading a magazine which he didn’t put down until I was standing right in front of him. We stared at each other for a few seconds. He was greasy-haired, with hooded eyes and a bored expression.
‘Yeah?’ His gaze flickered down my body, resting on my chest for several, very obvious, seconds.
I drew my jacket round me.
‘I . . . er . . . is Flynn here?’ I stammered.
The man looked up at my face, then jerked his thumb at the open doorway. He bent over his paper again.
I wandered across the corridor and through the door.
It was a large open room, smelly with that male stink of trainers and sweat. Two boxing rings, one of which was surrounded by people, were positioned beyond the row of punchbags. Otherwise the room was empty of furniture – just a pile of mats and a few plastic chairs stacked in one corner.
‘Can I help you, love?’ A big man standing on the other side of the door with his arms folded was staring at me. He didn’t smile, but at least he wasn’t looking at my chest.
‘I’m looking for Flynn?’ I said nervously.
The man unfolded his arms. I caught a glimpse of a long, snaking tattoo on the inside of his arm. He cupped his hands to his mouth.
‘Flynn!’ he yelled.
Everyone standin
g around the boxing ring turned round. I could feel my face reddening as they stared at me. They were all men. Most of them looked as if they were in their teens and twenties; a few were much older.
My eyes darted from one to the other, desperately looking for Flynn. Some of the men were laughing, nudging each other. Others were staring at me, like the guy outside had. Others still looked massively annoyed at the sight of me, presumably for distracting everyone. These were mostly the older guys. They turned quickly back to the ring. But both the boxers were hanging onto the ropes, grinning.
‘You Flynn’s bird?’ one of them shouted.
I nodded, too embarrassed to speak.
‘Flynn.’ The boxer yelled in the direction of a door at the far end of the room. ‘Get your arse out here.’
One of the older guys clapped his hands together. ‘Come on. Get on with it,’ he growled.
A few of the men turned back to the ring. But most of them – including the two boxers – were still staring at me.
Seconds later Flynn appeared at last. His eyes widened as he saw me.
‘Couldn’t ya wait till later, Flynn?’
‘Go on, son.’
‘She legal?’
He gritted his teeth against the shouts and laughs and catcalls from the guys beside the ring. Then he loped towards me, his normal swagger slightly exaggerated. He looked cross, which I knew meant he was embarrassed. So was I. In fact, I don’t think I’d ever been more embarrassed in my life.
It seemed to take ages for him to travel the room. At last he was standing beside me. He grabbed my arm and took me – against a chorus of wolf whistles – out into the corridor.
‘What are you doing here?’ he hissed.
I gulped, tears pricking at my eyes. ‘Mum found out I lied about last night,’ I said. ‘She threw me out.’
Yes, okay, I was exaggerating. But I sensed that Flynn wouldn’t have much patience with a less dramatic explanation.
‘What?’ he frowned. ‘Really?’
‘Well,’ I said, uncomfortably. ‘She didn’t exactly say I could never go back, but she told me I couldn’t ever see you again.’ A lump pressed against my throat. ‘She said you were a bad influence.’
Flynn laughed. ‘Silly cow,’ he said, putting his arm round me. A tear trickled down my face. ‘Hey, don’t be upset. She can’t do that.’
‘No?’ I looked up at him, sniffing.
He smiled. ‘No. See, you’re here with me right now, aren’t you?’
‘Oy, Flynn!’ It was one of the older men who’d been annoyed before. ‘Get laid on your own time!’
Flynn rolled his eyes. ‘What a jerk,’ he whispered, kissing my forehead. ‘Whenever that guy’s left in charge he—’
‘Flynn, do you want to keep this job?’ Flynn clenched his jaw. ‘I’ll freakin’ . . .’
‘No. Go back.’ I wiped my eyes. ‘I’ll be fine. I’ll . . . I’ll see you later.’
Flynn shook his head. He dug his hand in his pocket and drew out a couple of keys. ‘Take these. Go to mine. Wait there. I’ll be back in a couple of hours.’
He thrust the keys in my hand, kissed me again, then turned and headed back towards the boxing room. As he walked inside, I heard the guys from before break into catcalls and wolf whistles.
I wandered slowly up the Holloway Road towards Flynn’s flat. My mind was whirling – Goldbar’s was horrible. Far worse than I’d imagined. How could Flynn bear working there? And what was I going to do about Mum? It was all very well Flynn saying she couldn’t prevent me seeing him. Maybe she couldn’t. But there were all sorts of things she could do – like stop giving me any money or covering my mobile bills.
I trudged along the pavement to the entrance of Flynn’s building. I let myself into the damp-smelling hallway and climbed the narrow stairs to the second floor. Flynn’s flat was tiny: a little living area with a kitchen bar – not even a table and proper chairs – and only two small bedrooms, one which his mum and Siobhan shared and one with a curtain dividing the space into two, for him and Caitlin.
I opened the flat front door and headed for the living room. All of a sudden I heard voices. Laughing voices. They were coming from the room Siobhan shared with her mum. I froze. I hadn’t expected anyone to be here.
‘Siobhan?’ It was a man’s voice. Deep and cheerful. ‘Okay, then. Tell me you don’t.’
Another laugh. Nervous this time, and female – it must be Siobhan. I’d never heard her laugh before. And who was the man? Surely not Flynn’s father. He sounded too young. Anyway, I couldn’t imagine Siobhan laughing like that with her dad.
Silence.
My mouth was dry. I didn’t know what to do. Part of me wanted to leave the flat, but I’d promised Flynn I’d wait here and I didn’t have anywhere else to go. I knew that I should probably knock on Siobhan’s bedroom door to let her know I was here, but that seemed far too embarrassing. The door to the kitchen-cum-living room was open in front of me. I went inside and perched on one of the large beanbags at the far end of the room.
Several long minutes ticked by. At last Siobhan and the man emerged into the narrow corridor.
‘Okay then, beautiful.’ The man sounded like he was smiling.
There was a slightly slurpy, sucking sound – like lips pulling apart. Then the front door opened and shut again. I could hear Siobhan humming as she walked back up the corridor. I sat on my beanbag watching the doorway. My heart raced. Any second she was going to see me. Any sec—
‘Aaagh!’ Siobhan clutched at the door frame as she screamed.
I jumped up. ‘Sorry. Sorry. Flynn gave me the key and . . .’
‘Oh my goodness.’ Siobhan’s green eyes were wide with shock. ‘How long have you . . . ? Flynn’s not here, is he? I thought he was at work?’
‘He is,’ I said. ‘I’m sorry I frightened you. I . . . er . . .’ I nodded towards the corridor behind her. ‘I didn’t know you were here with anyone.’ I grinned.
‘You kept that quiet.’
Siobhan’s eyes sparkled as she blushed. ‘There’s nothing going on,’ she said coyly.
I rolled my eyes. ‘That’s not what it sounded like from in here,’ I said.
Siobhan slapped her hand over her mouth. ‘You never heard us,’ she squeaked.
I stared at her. I’d never seen her look so animated. So alive.
‘A little,’ I admitted. ‘Enough to know he’s massively into you.’
‘D’you think?’ She smiled excitedly at me. ‘He’s asked me out and I really like him, but . . .’ She bit her lip. ‘I don’t know.’
I patted the beanbag beside me. ‘Come and tell me,’ I said.
Siobhan slid over and sat down. ‘Promise you won’t say anything?’ she said.
‘Who to?’ I said. ‘Your mum?’
Siobhan shook her head. I glanced down at her hands. Jeez. They were trembling. ‘She knows. At least she knows Gary’s asked me out. It’s not her . . .’ She looked down.
Of course. ‘You don’t want Flynn to know?’ I said. Siobhan shrugged nervously. ‘He’ll get mad. He’ll worry Gary’ll hurt me or something. You know how overprotective he gets, all that walking me home from the salon.’
I frowned. ‘I thought you liked him doing that?’
‘I did,’ Siobhan admitted. ‘But now . . .’ She tailed off.
‘Now there’s Gary . . . ?’
Siobhan nodded.
‘Tell me about him,’ I said.
Siobhan hesitantly explained how Gary was a hair stylist – the son of the man who owned the salon where she worked. From what she said, he sounded not only lovely, but awesomely hot. For a moment, Siobhan’s eyes lit up as she spoke, then she sighed. ‘But I still don’t know if I should go out with him.’
‘Why? What’s the problem?’ I stared at her, bewildered.
Siobhan curled up on her beanbag. ‘I’m scared,’ she said. She looked at me. ‘I mean, suppose he turns out to be like Da . . .’ She paused, twisting her long, pale fi
ngers together. ‘Or Flynn?’
‘Like Flynn?’ I looked at Siobhan, a chill settling on my chest. ‘Flynn would never hurt a girl. He’s never hurt me.’
‘Not physically, maybe,’ Siobhan said. She kept her green eyes fixed on me. ‘But he’s scary when he’s angry, isn’t he?’
‘He’s just passionate,’ I said defensively. ‘People don’t understand how strongly he feels about things.’
Siobhan looked away.
‘Anyway, we were talking about you and Gary,’ I said, eager to change the subject. ‘Why not just give him a chance? Go to the cinema or out for a coffee with him? Something simple. You don’t have to do anything you don’t want.’
‘You’re right.’ Siobhan nodded. ‘It’s just . . . just such a big deal.’ She looked up at me. ‘Um, River, you promise you won’t say anything to Flynn, will you?’
‘No.’ I knew I was making a mistake promising that. But what choice did I have? ‘No. Course I won’t.’
Flynn arrived home a couple of hours later. We talked for a bit about how ridiculous Mum was being, agreeing again that there was no way she could stop us seeing each other. I persuaded Flynn to come home with me so we could try and reason with Mum together. I had some vague hope that if I could just get Mum to have a proper conversation with Flynn then she would realise how great he really was.
I don’t know what planet I was on.
8
Mum appeared in the hallway just as we shut the front door. She had obviously been crying. I felt a pang of guilt at the sight of her exhausted, tear-streaked face.
‘So you’ve decided to come home, then?’
‘Mum?’ I said. ‘I’m so sorr—’
‘What’s he doing here?’ Mum shot a poisonous look at Flynn.
I put a restraining hand on Flynn’s arm. ‘He’s come with me so we can talk to you,’ I said quickly. ‘I’m really sorry about last night, Mum. But it wasn’t Flynn’s fault. It wasn’t his idea to do that switch thing with Emmi. That was—’
‘I don’t want to hear it,’ she said. ‘One lie after another. You have no idea what you’re putting me through.’
I could feel Flynn’s arm muscles tensing under my hand. I didn’t dare look at his face. I could just imagine the thundercloud building behind his eyes.