Breakers

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Breakers Page 8

by Doug Johnstone


  ‘I just want to see.’

  Returning to the scene of the crime. As if he could talk, walking along St Margaret’s Road earlier today with his hood up.

  She turned into Clinton Road and pulled in across the road from Will’s house.

  ‘We shouldn’t be here,’ Tyler said.

  ‘Just for a moment.’

  The house was silent and dark, no sign of life. He remembered the soft piano of that music. Flick was peering across the road.

  ‘Do you rob people?’ she said.

  He closed his eyes then opened them again. ‘What makes you ask that?’

  She gave him a ‘well, duh’ look. ‘I found you inside someone’s house today.’

  ‘You broke in too.’

  ‘I wasn’t robbing him.’

  ‘I wasn’t stealing anything.’

  ‘But you could’ve.’

  Silence, just the windows fogging up from their breath.

  ‘I didn’t.’

  She stared at him. ‘I don’t mind if you are a burglar.’ She smiled and touched his shoulder. ‘Actually, it’s quite sexy.’

  He shrugged her off. ‘You don’t know what you’re talking about.’

  She bristled at his tone. ‘Take it easy, I was only teasing.’

  ‘We should go.’

  She looked at him for a long time. A middle-aged woman with a dog walked past, and Tyler turned his head to look the other way so that she didn’t get a clear view of his face. Flick noticed, then turned the engine on and pulled out.

  They drove to Blackford then round King’s Buildings, heading east again. Tyler thought she was dropping him back home already, and he tried to think what to say. He wanted to stay with her, thought maybe he’d offended her. But she turned right early and went up the hill to Craigmillar Castle, pulled into the tiny car park at the top of the hill.

  She cut the engine and got out. ‘Come on.’

  He followed without speaking.

  She climbed over the low gate and walked past the gatehouse, the closed ticket office inside. To their right were fields and the large woodland park, then beyond that Arthur’s Seat was a dark presence against the bruised skyline. They were up high enough that he could already see the Forth and Inchkeith, the wink of the lighthouse every few seconds. The lights of the city painted a handful of clouds orange, but further out over the water the sky was black. Up ahead was the castle, technically a ruin but most of it was in decent shape. Some of the walls and roofs were missing but large sections of the stonework were intact.

  ‘What are we doing?’ Tyler said, catching her up.

  ‘I like it here.’

  ‘It’s trespassing.’

  Flick rolled her eyes. ‘That didn’t stop you at Will’s house.’

  ‘There are cameras,’ Tyler said. He’d spotted one at the gatehouse already.

  Flick shook her head. ‘They don’t work. I’ve been here a dozen times, never got caught. No one cares as long as you don’t vandalise the place.’

  The latticed iron gate of the castle was locked. Flick went round the sidewall and clambered up the crumbling stones. She was onto the top of the wall in a minute, and Tyler followed. She walked along it for fifty feet to another crumbling corner, then used the tumbledown part as steps into the castle grounds. She was quick and precise, had obviously done this before. He followed suit.

  ‘Why this place?’ he said.

  She held her arms out at the view spreading north to the sea.

  ‘I can’t believe this doesn’t have better security,’ Tyler said.

  ‘There’s nothing to steal.’ Flick headed into the central tower. She switched on the torch on her phone and climbed the stairs. He followed, the bob of her torch beam disappearing round the spiral staircase. She was running so he ran too, caught her at the top of the stairs.

  She leaned on the wall, looked out at the view, so much more impressive from a hundred feet higher up. The whole of Edinburgh before them, hundreds of thousands of souls going about their lives, never realising they could have moments like this in the dark, with a girl, in a ruined castle.

  They looked at the expanse of the city in front of them for a long time. The longer they stood in silence, the more comfortable Tyler felt. He could smell her perfume, the same as earlier today.

  ‘I love it here,’ Flick said eventually.

  ‘I can see why.’

  She sighed. ‘When everything at school is too much, you know? There are all these people about, so much gossip and bullshit. He said, she said, all day long, it never ends. There’s no time to stop and think.’ She laughed at the words blurting out of her mouth. ‘Sorry, that sounds really stupid.’

  ‘No,’ Tyler said. ‘I get it.’

  She threw a smile at him in the gloom. ‘I knew you would.’ She turned back to look at the view. ‘That’s why you were in Will’s house this morning, wasn’t it? Time to stop and think.’

  Tyler thought about what to say. ‘I can’t really explain it. I’ve never talked about it before. It’s like escaping.’

  ‘Escaping what?’

  ‘Life.’

  ‘What do you need to escape from in your life?’

  ‘All of it.’

  She put her arm through his and leaned in a little.

  ‘Tell me about your family.’

  ‘What makes you say that?’

  ‘Everyone’s problems come from their families.’

  ‘I have a little sister, Bethany, we all call her Bean. She’s seven.’

  ‘I don’t have any brothers or sisters,’ Flick said. ‘Classic only child – overconfident, self-centred and narcissistic.’

  ‘Bean’s great, we’re really close. I have an older half-brother and half-sister,

  Barry and Kelly.’

  ‘What are they like?’

  ‘Pricks.’

  ‘I’m sure you still love them.’

  He shook his head. ‘You have no idea.’

  ‘You haven’t mentioned parents.’

  Tyler glanced behind him at the central tower, lightning rod running up the side, a needle into the dark.

  ‘Never had a dad. And Mum’s got problems.’

  ‘What sort of problems?’

  Tyler shook his head. Silence spread between them. Out at sea he could see a ship, lit up like a ghost. A couple of cars came up the road to their right, headlights splitting the night, then over the brow of the hill and gone. It was so peaceful here, just the wind through the oak trees in the park.

  ‘Well my parents are a fucking nightmare,’ Flick said, raising her voice, trying to make a joke of it. But there was an edge to her tone. ‘For a start they abandoned me at that shithole school. Dad was an officer in the Marines for years, so they moved around a lot. Now he’s some kind of special private military consultant. He’s out in Afghanistan at the moment. Mum’s out there too, working as his PA. She could’ve stayed here and I wouldn’t have had to board with all those stuck-up arseholes. She chose to be with Dad over me. Mind you, she’s a high-functioning alcoholic. It’s easy when you’re well off, drinking all day is socially acceptable. And she takes a ton of pills to get to sleep, to wake up, to level out her mood, to take the edge off the day. It’s pathetic. Dad doesn’t even know. He has PTSD after a stint in Iraq, night terrors. He has his own shit to deal with.’

  Tyler wondered how to describe his own home life and have it make sense. He couldn’t even think of the words to use. Flick had her whole situation mapped out in her head, the hard-done-by abandoned daughter. But she had money, friends, got her meals cooked for her. She had routine, classes, extracurricular shit, her life regimented, structured.

  He liked school because, when he didn’t have to bunk off for his own sanity, it gave him the same thing, structure. He liked maths and science especially, the way the laws of nature and mathematics obeyed rules, there was logic to them, cause and effect, the neatness and symmetry of it.

  ‘Sorry for mouthing off,’ Flick said.


  ‘Don’t be,’ Tyler said. ‘I like hearing your voice.’

  She laughed. ‘It’s just a voice.’

  ‘It’s not an accent I’m used to,’ Tyler said. ‘You sound like a weather presenter.’

  She laughed again and pulled at his arm. ‘Come on.’

  She walked round the walled exterior of the keep, looking first northwest at the illuminated slope of the Royal Mile and the knuckle of Edinburgh Castle, then southwest, the Pentlands sprawled in the distance. Then she stopped at the southeast corner. Nearby trees blocked the view of Greendykes House. She looked in that direction.

  ‘What’s it like, living in Niddrie?’

  ‘Not as bad as it used to be.’

  ‘There used to be a lot of gangs, right?’

  He nodded.

  ‘Are you in a gang?’

  ‘Fuck that,’ Tyler said. ‘Quick way to get yourself stabbed.’

  He instantly regretted the word. He looked to his right, saw the spread of the hospital in the valley below them, glowing radioactive with hundreds of lights. Monica Holt was in there somewhere fighting to stay alive. Waiting to wake up and tell the world what she’d seen. A gaping knife wound that would take weeks or months to heal, if she ever came round. He thought about Ryan and Deke sitting seething at her bedside, desperate for revenge on the bastards who did it.

  ‘Maybe I should come and stay with you at Inveresk,’ he said after a while.

  ‘You might not get stabbed,’ Flick said. ‘But, believe me, we have our own shit there too.’

  He made a sceptical face, couldn’t help himself.

  She grinned. ‘I know how it sounds. Poor little rich girl with all her emotional problems.’ She waved her arms around, mocking herself, then put the back of her hand to her forehead like she might faint. ‘Oh my!’

  She rubbed at the stonework with a finger, head down. ‘But that doesn’t make the problems any less real.’

  Tyler watched her for a moment, then put his hand on top of hers.

  She leaned in and kissed him on the cheek, taking her time.

  ‘I like you Tyler Wallace,’ she whispered, her face close to his. ‘I would hate it if you got stabbed.’

  He held her gaze and realised he didn’t even know her surname.

  15

  Tyler eased the key in the door, turned it and stepped into the flat. He went straight to Bean’s room to check on her. She had the covers off again, the girl couldn’t lie still for two minutes. She was breathing deeply and snuffled as he pulled the duvet back up. He leaned in and brushed his lips against her hair, stood looking at her for a second, then left.

  He went to Angela’s room next, hit by the smell as he opened the door. No worse than when he left, that was the main thing. She hadn’t vomited or pissed any more by the looks of things. He rested his fingers on her wrist and felt a strong pulse. Her breath was pure vodka.

  He pulled the door behind him then went to the living room, switched on the light and jumped. Barry was sitting on the kitchenette worktop smoking a fag. The TV remote was in his other hand but the television was off.

  ‘Where the fuck have you been?’ he said, gripping the remote.

  ‘Just out for a walk.’

  Barry shook his head and inhaled. ‘Just out for a walk.’

  ‘Yeah.’

  ‘Where, exactly?’

  Tyler looked out of the window. ‘Up towards Craigmillar Castle.’

  ‘Up towards the castle?’

  ‘That’s right.’

  ‘Have you ever been to that fucking castle before in your life?’

  Tyler shook his head, kept his distance. ‘Don’t think so.’

  ‘No, I don’t think so either. So why the fuck did you go there tonight?’

  Tyler was motionless, as if he was wary of setting off a landmine underfoot. ‘Just needed to think.’

  Barry jumped down from the worktop with the cigarette hanging from his mouth, still clutching the remote. ‘Why do you need time to think?’

  Tyler didn’t answer, there wasn’t an answer.

  Barry took a step closer. ‘You don’t need to think, bruv.’ The last word was soaked in sarcasm. ‘I do all the thinking in this family.’

  Barry took another step.

  Tyler stood his ground in the doorway. ‘No worries.’

  Barry sucked on the cigarette. ‘What did I tell you?’

  ‘Not to think.’

  ‘You cheeky cunt. I mean earlier tonight. What did I tell you?’

  Tyler stayed silent.

  Barry raised his eyebrows. ‘Well?’

  ‘I don’t know.’

  ‘You don’t fucking know.’ Then again, much slower. ‘You don’t fucking know.’ He rubbed at his eyes and looked tired. ‘The shit I have to put up with, honestly. Your dumb slag of a sister, our fucked-up mum, even that wee bitch asleep through the way.’

  Tyler stood taller at the mention of Bean, tried to fill the doorway. ‘Sorry, Barry.’

  ‘You’re sorry, that’s lovely.’ He tapped the remote control against his thigh. ‘What exactly are you sorry for?’

  Tyler shook his head.

  The fag was burning down in Barry’s lips, not much more than filter now. ‘What’s the point of saying sorry if you don’t know what you’re sorry for?’ Barry held his arms out wide, looked around the room for answers. ‘Are you maybe sorry because I told you not to go out tonight, and yet you still fucking did?’

  Tyler rubbed at the palm of his hand.

  ‘Are you sorry because you’re lying to me about where you were?’

  ‘I’m not, honest.’

  Barry stepped closer, pointed the remote control.

  ‘You’re a lying piece of shit,’ he said under his breath. ‘I heard you sneak out and I saw you get in a car downstairs, so you weren’t out getting some air or clearing your fucking head.’

  He lifted the remote and swung it at Tyler’s head. Tyler flinched and ducked but it connected with his ear. Two more swipes, the plastic edge of the remote smacking into Tyler’s temple and the corner of his eye. Tyler was hunched over, arms raised against the blows, but they came anyway, bang-bang on the back of his head, then again catching the edge of his eye as Tyler tried to look up, blood dripping from a cut there now as more blows came down, again on the ear then the base of his skull.

  Barry dropped the remote and grabbed Tyler’s throat, pushed him against the wall, choking him. Vodka and fag ash on his breath as he spat in Tyler’s face. ‘So why don’t you tell me exactly what you were doing tonight.’

  ‘I was out with a girl.’ Tyler’s voice was cracked.

  Barry smiled. ‘A girl? I always thought you were bent.’

  Tyler struggled to breathe, put his fingers to Barry’s on his throat but couldn’t get purchase.

  ‘Where did you meet her?’

  ‘Online.’

  ‘On a website?’

  Tyler tried to nod.

  ‘Where’s she from?’

  ‘Mussy.’

  ‘Driving a car like that?’

  ‘It’s her mum’s.’

  ‘Must be fucking loaded.’ Barry had eased off on his throat and Tyler gasped. ‘Where did you go?’

  Tyler gulped between words. ‘We really did go to the castle.’

  ‘Did you ride her?’

  Tyler didn’t respond so Barry squeezed his throat again.

  ‘Nothing like that,’ Tyler said.

  Barry frowned. ‘Maybe you are bent after all.’

  Blood ran into Tyler’s mouth from his cut eye. He sucked it in and swallowed. Taste of rust.

  Barry relaxed a little but kept his hand on Tyler’s neck. ‘What’s her name?’

  ‘Fiona.’

  ‘Fiona what?’

  ‘That’s all she’s told me.’

  ‘Probably wary of a prick like you. You seeing her again?’

  ‘Not sure.’

  ‘If you do, I want to meet her, right?’

  Tyler didn’t speak unt
il Barry put more pressure on his neck. ‘Of course.’

  ‘Can’t have just any cunt finding out about us, especially at the moment.’

  Tyler nodded and Barry let go of his throat. Tyler collapsed and gasped in air, touched the corner of his eye, his hand coming away red.

  Barry took the fag end out of his mouth and dropped it on the carpet, ground it in with his foot.

  ‘Now don’t be a cunt about that,’ he said, pointing at Tyler’s eye. ‘It’s just a scratch.’

  He turned to leave the room but kept his eye on Tyler.

  ‘It’ll be worse for you if you ever lie to me again. Got it?’

  Tyler didn’t move, just watched his brother leave the room. He heard the front door close, then slumped to the floor and began crying.

  16

  He was woken by the smell of eggs frying. He touched the corner of his eye, which was half shut, felt the tender skin, the cut along the brow. He eased out of bed, aching, pulled on a T-shirt and went to investigate.

  He stopped in the doorway of the living room. Angela was hunched over the stove singing ‘Angels’ by Robbie Williams under her breath. He hadn’t seen her up at this time in weeks.

  ‘Hey, Mum.’

  She looked at him. For a moment it seemed as if she didn’t recognise him, then she smiled. ‘My beautiful boy, let me look at you.’

  He took a couple of steps forward and she left the frying pan and met him, held on to his forearms like she was trying to stop him escaping. The pan hissed and spat behind her. Her eyes were glassy, either hungover or still drunk, or maybe already drunk again this morning. The smell of it on her breath.

  ‘I’m so proud of you,’ she said, pushing her hair out of her face. ‘You know that?’

  Tyler pulled his arms away. It was weird being touched by her after so long without contact. Like she wasn’t entitled. But she was his mum, he had to keep reminding himself about that.

  She looked disappointed that he’d pulled away but she tried to cover it, put on a smile. ‘Fried egg on toast OK for you?’

  ‘Sure.’

  She turned back to the cooking. ‘Wake your sister or she’ll be late for school.’

  Bean was sitting up in her bed playing with her slime, gloop stretched between her fingers.

  ‘Time to get up,’ Tyler said. ‘Mum’s cooking breakfast.’

 

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