Without Looking Back

by Tabitha Suzuma

  ‘My turn!’ Millie begged as they collapsed on the bench. ‘Please!’

  ‘OK, OK.’ Max stood up wearily.

  ‘I’m going to get a drink,’ Louis said.

  ‘Get me a Coke,’ Max said.

  ‘Get me a Coke too,’ added Millie.

  Louis walked back down the wide corridor that overlooked the courts, brushing the damp hair back from his forehead. He wandered around the centre for a few minutes, searching for the cafeteria, which he eventually found, and bought three cans of Coke. He opened one and began to drink thirstily. Then he paused as something caught his eye. A flyer on a notice board:

  COME DANCE!

  WINDERMERE JUNIOR DANCE CLUB –

  STREET, MODERN, BALLET AND JAZZ,

  EVERY MONDAY AND THURSDAY AT 5 P.M.

  IN THE DANCE STUDIO.

  A dance club? Louis checked his watch. It was ten to five. Still sipping from his Coke can, he found another corridor and wandered down it, passing changing rooms and shrieks from the pool. He passed the double doors to the gym, heard music and followed the sound down to the end of the corridor, but it only led to a large room full of spandex-clothed women doing aerobics. Perhaps this was what they called the dance studio. Oh well. He left the stamping women and began to head back to the tennis courts.

  ‘Have you come for the class?’

  A voice from behind made him start. He swung round. A girl of about his own age had come out of the door at the far end of the corridor, beyond the aerobics class, and was looking at him enquiringly with large green cat’s eyes. She wore a scrunchie round her wrist and her long dark hair hung loose around her shoulders – damp and tangled, almost reaching her waist. She was startlingly pretty, her pale skin contrasting sharply with her hair, freckles covering her cheekbones, her mouth wearing the hint of a smile.

  ‘No. I was just looking for the – um – dance studio,’ he said, flustered.

  ‘It’s here,’ the girl said, pointing behind her.

  ‘Oh.’ He noticed now that she was wearing a black leotard under her red tracksuit bottoms and moved with the grace of an experienced dancer.

  ‘Have you come for the class then?’ the girl asked, looking him up and down.

  ‘Well, no,’ Louis said awkwardly, feeling himself blush. ‘I was just – um – looking around. I wanted to see what it looked like.’

  ‘Just looks like an ordinary dance studio,’ the girl said, turning back towards the open door. Louis followed her. ‘It’s big though.’

  It was huge. Polished wooden floors and floor-to-ceiling windows. A dozen teenagers sat on the floor at the far end, chatting and changing their shoes.

  ‘Are you a dancer?’ The girl was scrutinizing him again.

  ‘Well, not really. Kind of. I used to do a bit, back where I came from.’

  ‘What kind of dance?’

  ‘Street-dance, tap and – um – ballet.’

  The girl looked impressed. ‘Were you any good?’

  He shrugged, embarrassed.

  ‘Can you do a triple turn?’ she asked him.

  ‘Yeah.’

  ‘Quad?’

  ‘Yeah.’

  ‘Jeez. What else can you do?’

  ‘Tumbling and stuff.’

  ‘Backflips?’

  ‘Yeah.’

  She looked at him in disbelief. ‘Show me?’

  ‘Not here!’

  ‘Do you want to join our class? It’s advanced jazz. Miss Kano, our teacher, would be thrilled. We’ve only got two boys in the class and she’s always trying to recruit more.’

  ‘I can’t . . .’ Louis stepped back. ‘My brother and sister are waiting for me. We’re playing table tennis.’

  The girl gave a small shrug. ‘OK, well, see you around.’

  ‘Yeah, sure,’ Louis said. He held out one of the unopened cans. ‘D’you want a drink?’

  The girl smiled and took it from him. ‘Thanks,’ she said, then turned round and went back into the studio.

  ‘What the hell took you so long?’ Max was hitting balls against the raised side of the table and Millie was sitting on the floor trying to juggle.

  ‘Here,’ Louis said, handing Millie a Coke.

  ‘What about me?’ Max sounded outraged.

  ‘You’ll have to share – they only had one left,’ Louis said.

  Max muttered angrily to himself and grabbed the can from Millie as she struggled to open it. ‘You were ages! Did you get lost or something?’

  ‘Yes,’ Louis replied.

  That evening, after dinner, Max threw himself down in front of the TV and Millie brought her dolls’ house down to the living room to play with. Louis was on his way upstairs to read his book when Dad emerged from the kitchen, his hands still foamy from the washing up. ‘I need to go to the village shop to get some more milk for breakfast,’ he said.

  Louis stopped, one hand on the splintered banister. ‘D’you want me to go?’

  ‘Why don’t you come with me?’ Dad suggested.

  ‘There’s no point in us both going,’ Louis snapped.

  Dad cocked his head. ‘Come on.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘Come on,’ Dad said again, and went back into the kitchen to dry his hands.

  They walked down the stony track in the golden evening light. The sound of crickets filled the air. It was a good fifteen-minute walk into the village, but for some reason Dad wouldn’t take the car. There was a warm breeze that smelled of summer, but in his T-shirt and jeans, Louis shivered.

  ‘You cold?’ Dad asked.

  ‘No.’

  A silence. They walked side by side but with a space the size of another person between them.

  ‘Louis,’ Dad said after a while.

  ‘What?’

  ‘I know you’re upset.’

  ‘I’m not upset.’

  Dad sighed. ‘Well, you’re not very happy then, that’s for sure.’

  Another silence.

  ‘I want you to be happy. You, Max and Millie. That’s all I care about.’

  ‘No,’ Louis said. ‘You care about you. You care about your happiness.’

  ‘That’s true, I want to be happy too.’ Dad sighed. ‘But not at your expense. The most important thing is for my children to be happy.’

  ‘And so that’s why you took us away?’

  ‘I took you away because I wanted to give you the chance to live with me. But also because I believed that, ultimately, you would be happier with me than with your mum.’

  Louis said nothing.

  ‘But maybe I was wrong,’ Dad said. ‘Do you think I should send you all back?’

  Louis looked up at him sharply. ‘The others want to stay with you.’

  ‘I could tell them I’d changed my mind. That I realized I couldn’t manage on my own.’

  ‘Then we wouldn’t be able to see you again.’

  ‘Only for a little while,’ Dad said. ‘Until all the fuss had died down.’

  Louis shrugged. ‘No. The others want to live with you. I suppose I do too, really.’

  ‘Then why are you so miserable, my love?’

  Louis took a slow breath. Because I had a mother, he wanted to say. She wasn’t always a good mother. She worked long hours and snapped at us a lot and was always rude about our father. But she was our mother. But he couldn’t say it.

  ‘Why do you and Mum hate each other?’ he asked instead.

  Dad sighed. ‘Louis, we don’t hate each other, we just stopped loving each other. It happens sometimes. People change. They grow apart.’

  ‘I don’t believe you,’ Louis said. ‘You do hate her. Otherwise why would you have taken us away from her?’

  Dad said nothing for a moment. He seemed to be choosing his words carefully. ‘Hate is a very strong word,’ he said at length. ‘When a marriage breaks down, it ends a lot of hopes, a lot of promises, a lot of dreams. It’s hard not to feel angry. And it’s hard not to feel bitter. And with all that anger, all that bitterness, it makes it
very hard for those two people to put their heads together and agree on what’s best for the children.’

  ‘But why did Maman want us to stop spending weekends with you?’

  ‘Because she was angry. Because she was upset. Because she tried to convince herself I was an unfit father. She’s a strong woman, your mum. She doesn’t tolerate weakness.’

  ‘She thought your nervous breakdown was a sign of weakness?’

  Dad sighed. ‘People started taking sides. Friends of ours saw me falling apart and tried to help, and she saw that as a betrayal of sorts. She got very angry. And anger can cloud judgement; it can make even good people do some very, very bad things.’

  ‘Like you?’ Louis said quietly. ‘Like you taking us?’

  Dad paled suddenly. And said nothing.

  Chapter Eight

  DAD GOT THE job and started work on Monday. He had managed to arrange it so he would only go into the office in the mornings, then work from home in the afternoons. That way, he reckoned, he would be back not too long after they got up. On Monday morning, however, Louis woke at the sound of Dad’s alarm. He found himself listening out for the sounds of his father getting ready – the shower, the radio, the kettle, the toaster, and eventually the click of the front door and the sound of the car starting up outside. Louis got up to pee and, from the bathroom window, watched the blue Peugeot bumping its way slowly along the dirt track under a hazy morning sky. Then the car turned and shot off down the main road, disappearing from sight.

  Millie was up too, still in her nightdress, stirring chocolate powder into a bowl of milk and cereal at the kitchen table, creating some kind of revolting paste. ‘What are we going to do while Dad’s at work?’ she asked him.

  ‘I dunno.’ Louis shrugged, putting on some toast. ‘Ask Max.’

  ‘Ask Max what?’ came a voice behind them, and Max entered wearing only his jogging bottoms, stretching and yawning loudly.

  ‘Ew,’ Millie complained. ‘You’re getting hairy armpits.’

  ‘Shut up,’ Max said lightly. ‘It’s going to be a scorching day today. I heard it on the weather forecast.’

  ‘I’m going to wear my new summer dress!’ Millie announced happily.

  Max helped himself to the toast from the toaster. ‘That’s mine,’ Louis protested.

  Max sent the smaller of the two pieces spinning across the table. ‘Stop being such a baby.’

  Spreading butter on his remaining piece of toast, Louis said, ‘We could go swimming.’

  ‘What? I’m not going all the way to Windermere leisure centre.’

  ‘I meant swimming in one of the lakes,’ Louis said.

  Millie’s eyes widened.

  Max looked at Louis suspiciously. ‘Which lake?’

  ‘Any lake,’ Louis said. ‘There are loads of them.’

  ‘I want to swim in the lake!’ Millie announced.

  ‘Shut up,’ Max said. ‘You’ll drown.’

  ‘I can swim!’ Millie protested loudly. ‘Louis, please can I come?’

  ‘We can all go,’ Louis said.

  Max hesitated. ‘We don’t have any swimming trunks.’

  ‘We can wear shorts.’

  ‘What about me?’ Millie demanded.

  ‘You can swim in your knickers. There’ll be nobody around.’

  Max grinned. ‘OK, let’s do it!’

  They packed their rucksacks with towels and a change of clothes, locked up the house and went over to the barn to fetch their bikes. Even though it was only ten o’clock, the sun was already high and bright in a cloudless sky. They set off slowly, Millie wobbling precariously on the uneven track. Louis led the way, and once they got out onto the road, they picked up speed, Millie crowing in delight. A warm breeze lifted Louis’ hair as he stood up on his pedals, and for the first time since the seaside, a feeling of well-being rushed through his body. As the road began to steepen, his breathing quickened and the back of his T-shirt stuck damply to his skin. He glanced behind him to make sure that Max and Millie were still in sight and then pressed on. Finally, the road began to even out and they turned off onto a grassy track, freewheeling downhill. Beneath them, the lake stretched out like a giant pool of ink and the wind caught Louis’ T-shirt, making it billow out behind him. He heard the crunch of stones beneath his wheels as he raced, flat out, down towards the water’s edge.

  He skidded to a dizzying halt amidst a shower of pebbles and dry earth and waited for the others to join him. They threw their bikes down in the long grass and advanced tentatively to the water’s edge. Louis dipped in a sandaled toe. The water was very cold and very clear. He could see a shoal of tiny fish swimming just below the surface.

  Millie squealed in delight. ‘Eeek, it’s freezing!’

  Max kicked off his trainers and started unbuttoning his jeans, uncovering a pair of shiny blue football shorts. He took a run from the grassy edge, but stopped short when he reached knee-deep water. ‘Aargh, it’s really cold!’ Arms held out for balance, he advanced slowly, making loud gasping noises.

  Millie stripped down to her knickers and began wading in, shrieking softly. Louis pulled off his T-shirt and sandals, following them in.

  Millie was giving them a running commentary of what she could feel underfoot. ‘Ow, ow, it’s sharp! Yuck, yuck, it’s slimy!’

  For a while all three of them advanced slowly, arms outstretched. Then suddenly Louis stumbled on a stone and the water rushed up to his waist. He yelped and then dived in. The cold water hit him like a slap in the face and for a few seconds all he could do was kick and swim and swim and kick and surface for a deep breath and then swim some more till finally the shock wore off enough for him to be able to turn round and look back at the others and shout breathlessly, ‘Come on, it’s great!’

  Max and Millie shot him looks of disbelief as he continued to gasp with shock. He turned and swam out further, his arms and legs still lashing out against the cold, his muscles shuddering in protest. As he reached a spot about a hundred metres from the shore, he stopped and took a deep breath and sank down under the water, pushing himself as far down as he could go. His feet did not meet solid ground. The lake seemed bottomless.

  When he re-emerged, heaving, he saw the others were finally in – Millie swimming a fast breaststroke and emitting a series of shrill yelps. Max swam over to Millie and started to splash her and the yelps turned into screams. Louis did a fast crawl to join in, and soon the water began to lose its icy grip and they could breathe without shuddering. The sun shone at full wattage from a brilliant blue sky and the air was heavy with the scents of summer. On the other side of the lake, a group of hikers, complete with boots and sticks, moved slowly up one of the hills. In the distance, beyond the cluster of stone houses in the village, the brown track snaked its way gently up the hill towards the farmhouse. Their farmhouse. Their home.

  Louis tipped over onto his back, watched his toes appear, felt his ears fill with water, and gazed up at the dazzlingly bright sky. Millie let out a shriek. ‘Louis! Louis, help! Max is drowning me!’ Louis ignored her cries and continued to float. Unlike in the sea, there were no waves. The water was still, flat, glassy. The sensation of tranquillity was overwhelming. After a while he tipped back upright again and found he had drifted out to the centre of the lake. All around him, the dales towered up towards the sky. Golden sequins dappled the water. The shore was nothing more than a faint grey line in the distance. Squinting against the glare of the sun, Louis could just make out Millie, climbing the bank towards the footpath where they had left their bicycles, in search of a towel. Louis skimmed his hand against the water’s surface and sent up a fine shower of droplets over his head. They caught the colours of the rainbow as they fell.

  Something closed around his ankle and he was suddenly yanked downwards, deep into the water. Bubbles flew out of his nose as he writhed and kicked, fighting for the surface. Arms flailing, he managed a frantic gasp and Max laughed in his face before dunking him under again. This time he swallowed a mou
thful of water and emerged gagging for breath. ‘Max, you’re so dead!’ Louis managed to grab hold of Max by the shoulders and, using his full weight, rammed his brother down under the water. Max headbutted him in the chest and resurfaced, grabbing him by the leg. Louis freed himself with a kick.

  ‘Race you to the shore,’ Max shouted.

  Louis sighed and tried to look reluctant. Then suddenly, he threw himself into a fast crawl.

  With a yelp of protest, Max followed, churning up the water behind him. Louis speeded up, desperate to lose him. He’d had a headstart but it wasn’t much and Max was a fast swimmer. And the patch of green was further away that it had appeared. Max was gaining; once or twice Louis felt the brush of Max’s hand against his leg. Louis tried to break away.

  When Louis’ foot finally met muddy, stony ground, he was gasping. Max splashed through the water behind him, yelping. Suddenly, he threw himself forward and grabbed Louis’ leg, trying to pull him back into the water. Choking with laughter, Louis attempted to wade up the muddy bank, Max a ball and chain round his ankle. ‘I won, I won!’ he yelled.

  ‘No, you’ve got to touch the grass!’ Max yelled back.

  Louis belly-flopped into the shallow water, reaching out towards the grassy bank, trying to kick his leg free. But Max hung on grimly and for several moments they both just thrashed around, neither of them going anywhere.

  ‘Cheater, cheater!’ Louis was yelping.

  Max hooked his arm around Louis’ neck, forcing him down into the water. Louis felt his brother’s knee against his back, and when he resurfaced, spluttering in rage, he saw that Max had climbed over him and was dragging himself up onto the grass.

  ‘You lousy cheat!’ Louis shouted, and half gasping, half laughing, splashed out of the water, wincing as the soles of his feet met the sharp edges of small stones, scrambling up towards Millie, who sat shivering beneath three layers of towels. Max and Louis grabbed their towels off her and began rubbing themselves down, springing from foot to foot against the chill of the gentle breeze, now an icy wind against their wet, goosefleshed skin. Louis pulled on his damp T-shirt, his denim shorts clinging wetly to his thighs, and towelled his hair vigorously until it fell back into its usual tousled mop. Max was attempting to wring out the water from the bottom of his shorts and Millie was still sitting there, shivering. Louis picked up her dress and put it over her head.