Candy

by Kevin Brooks

  She nodded again.

  I opened the door and we both walked into the kitchen. Gina and Mike were sitting together at the table, deep in conversation. As we came in, they stopped talking and looked up at us.

  “Hey,” I said, nodding at them both. “This is Candy.”

  Gina smiled at her. “Hello, Candy. I’m Gina and this is Mike.”

  “Hi,” Candy replied quietly, nodding her head.

  Mike nodded back.

  Gina stood up and came over to us. She gave me a quick hug, then shook hands with Candy.

  “Nice to meet you,” she said.

  “Thanks,” Candy said awkwardly.

  Gina stepped back and gave us both a long hard look. “Christ,” she said. “The two of you look like you’ve been through a war.” She reached over and touched the cut on my throat. “What’s this, Joe?”

  “Nothing…”

  “It doesn’t look like nothing.” She turned to Candy. I thought she was going to ask her about my throat, but instead she lifted her hand to Candy’s face and gently cradled her chin. Candy stiffened slightly. “It’s all right,” Gina said softly, angling her head to examine the bruises around Candy’s eye. “When did this happen?”

  “Couple of days ago,” Candy replied hesitantly.

  “Did you get it checked out?”

  Candy looked anxiously at me.

  “It’s all right,” I assured her. “Gina’s a nurse—she can’t help asking personal questions.”

  “Shut up, Joe,” Gina said, turning her attention to Candy’s bandaged wrist. “What about this?” She took Candy’s wrist in her hand, holding it carefully, cautiously flexing the joint. “Does that hurt?”

  “Just a bit…”

  “Who put this dressing on?”

  “I did.”

  “Pretty good job. It needs changing, though. I don’t suppose you’ve been for an X-ray?”

  “No…”

  Gina nodded, then stepped back, looking in Candy’s eyes. “Are you OK? I mean, do you need anything? Food…something to drink?”

  “No…I’m fine, thanks.”

  “When did you last use?”

  Candy hesitated again, looking at me.

  I looked at Gina.

  She said to Candy, “It’s OK, it doesn’t matter, I just wanted to know if you’re all right, that’s all.”

  “Yeah…” Candy said warily. “I’m OK. I…uh…I had some stuff before we got on the train.”

  “How much more have you got?”

  “Enough for tonight.”

  “Then what?”

  “I don’t know…”

  They looked at each other for a while, and I wondered if Gina was being a bit too pushy, confronting the truth a bit too soon. But then I thought, Maybe that’s the best thing to do…bring it out in the open, confront it, accept it. Maybe that’s what I should have done?

  “OK,” Gina said, smiling at Candy. “Do you want to freshen up or anything? Use the bathroom?”

  Candy nodded. “I wouldn’t mind.”

  “Joe’ll show you where it is. If you need anything, my bedroom’s on the top floor. Second door on the right. Just take whatever you want. I’ll come up in a while and rebandage your wrist—all right?”

  “Yeah, thanks,” Candy smiled.

  “Joe?” Gina said.

  “What?”

  “The bathroom…?”

  “Oh, yeah…right.” I looked at Candy. She was studying Gina with an expression I couldn’t quite place—a mixture of confusion, relief, suspicion, and gratitude. “All right?” I asked her.

  She blinked and looked at me. “Uh-huh.”

  “OK…it’s this way.”

  As I led her upstairs to the bathroom, I felt that the balance had shifted again. There were three of us on the seesaw now—me, Candy, and Gina. It felt good, in a way…sort of comforting, like we weren’t alone anymore, so it wasn’t so scary. But there was something else, too…something about this extra presence that bothered me. I know it sounds childish, but it felt as if someone else was muscling in on our game. It was our seesaw, mine and Candy’s, and I didn’t want to share it with anyone else…

  Sounds childish?

  It was childish.

  I knew it even then. What’s the matter with you? I asked myself. Ten minutes ago you were desperate for Gina to like Candy…and now—now that you know that she does like her—what do you do? You start feeling all jealous about it…

  “She’s nice, isn’t she?” said Candy.

  “What?”

  “Your sister—she’s really nice.”

  “Yeah…” I said, feeling ashamed of myself. “Yeah, she is.”

  “It’s a shame, really…”

  “What is?”

  “I mean, it’s a shame we have to go. It would have been nice to get to know her a bit better.”

  “Well, maybe you can. We don’t have to—”

  “No, I told you—I can’t stay here.”

  “Yeah, I know. But—”

  “I can’t—all right? It wouldn’t be fair.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because…it just wouldn’t.” She looked away from me then, anxious to change the subject. “Is this the bathroom?”

  “Yeah,” I said, opening the door. “There should be some clean towels in the airing cupboard—”

  “Thanks,” she said quickly, stepping inside. “I’ll see you in a minute.”

  She shut the door.

  I stood there for a moment, wondering why everything had to be so complicated, then I went back down to the kitchen.

  Gina was standing at the table, packing a bag with tins of food and clothes and stuff, and Mike was sitting there watching her, sipping black coffee from a big white mug.

  “I don’t know why I’m doing this,” Gina said, shaking her head. “That girl needs professional help. She needs rehab, counseling, proper medical advice…and what am I doing? I’m sending her off into the wilderness with my dumb kid brother, for God’s sake. I must be mad.”

  “She can’t afford rehab,” I said, sitting down at the table.

  Gina gave me a look. “I know that.”

  “She won’t go back to her parents, she hasn’t got any friends, and she won’t stay here because she doesn’t want to cause any trouble. Where else can she go?”

  “I don’t know,” Gina said. “I just don’t like it, that’s all. I mean, what if something happens? What if Dad finds out? What if—”

  “Nothing’s going to happen,” I said. “And Dad’s not going to find out.”

  “No? What if he phones up? What if he wants to speak to you?”

  “I don’t know…tell him I’m asleep or something.”

  “What if he rings at six o’clock? If I tell him you’re asleep at six o’clock, he’s going to start asking questions—”

  “Tell him I’m out.”

  “You’re supposed to be grounded—remember?”

  “Tell him I’m in the bath, then. Tell him anything…it doesn’t matter. He probably won’t ring, anyway. He hardly ever does.” I took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Listen,” I said. “I really appreciate what you’re doing, and I’m sorry it’s all such a mess. I didn’t mean things to end up like this…I didn’t mean anything…”

  Gina sighed. “How on earth did you find her?”

  “I just…I don’t know. It’s a long story.” I glanced at the clock—it was nearly ten o’clock. “We’ll have to get going soon. We need to catch the last train—”

  “You don’t have to go tonight,” Gina said. “Why don’t you both stay here? Get some rest. We can talk about things in the morning—”

  “No, I think we’d better get going.”

  “Why?”

  I looked at her, not knowing what to say. I didn’t know why. It made sense to stay here—it was safe and warm and comfortable, and Gina and Mike would be around, so I wouldn’t have to deal with everything myself, and it would probably help Candy to have som
eone else to talk to…

  But she didn’t want that, did she? She didn’t want to stay here. And I could hardly force her, could I?

  “Look,” said Gina. “If you really have to go tonight—although I still don’t see why it’s necessary—but if you have to go, at least let us drive you to the cottage.”

  “Thanks…but you don’t have to do that. The train’s fine.”

  “It’s no trouble. We don’t mind driving you—”

  “I know you don’t mind—I just think it’s best if you don’t.”

  “But why not? It’s late, it’s cold, the cottage is at least fifteen miles from the station. There won’t be any buses this time of night—”

  “We’ll get a taxi.”

  “Don’t be stupid, Joe. What’s the matter with you? We’re not going to—”

  “Let them get the train,” Mike interrupted. “They’ll be all right.”

  A flash of annoyance crossed Gina’s face, and I thought for a moment she was going to start yelling at Mike, but then a look passed between them, an intimate exchange of trust, and after a while Gina grudgingly nodded her assent.

  Mike said to me, “I’ll drive you to the station. What time’s the train?”

  “Ten-thirty.”

  He glanced at the clock, then turned to Gina. “You’d better go and see to Candy. We’ll have to leave in about ten minutes.”

  “What about Joe?” Gina said. “He needs to know—”

  “I’ll talk to him.”

  Gina nodded. She looked at me, started to say something, then changed her mind and quietly walked out. I watched her go, then turned to Mike. His eyes were fixed on mine, calm and cool and steady.

  “Thanks,” I said.

  “I’m only giving you a lift.”

  “I didn’t mean that—”

  “I know,” he said, sipping his coffee. He took his time, savoring the taste, then he put down the mug and looked at me again. “So,” he said, “did you have a good day?”

  “Not bad,” I smiled. “A bit tiring…”

  He nodded slowly, eyeing the cut on my throat. “Looks like you had a close shave there.”

  “Yeah, you could say that.”

  “Do you want to talk about it?”

  “Not really…maybe some other time.”

  “OK,” he said, “that’s fair enough.” He took another sip of his coffee. “Two things, though—two simple questions.”

  “I don’t think—”

  “Listen, Joe,” he said. “Whatever you do with your life is your business, and I’m happy to leave it at that. But if you’ve done something that might affect Gina or me, that’s my business—OK?”

  I nodded.

  “Right,” he said. “First question—is Iggy still alive?”

  “Yeah.”

  “And, second question, does he know who you are?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Does he know your name?”

  “I don’t know…I don’t think so…”

  “Well, think about it. It’s important. If he knows your name, he can find out where you live.”

  I thought about it, trying to remember if he’d ever called me by name. It was hard to think, though…hard to see through the clouds of fear. “I’m pretty sure he doesn’t know it,” I told Mike. “I’ve only met him twice, so I don’t see how he could know…unless Candy’s told him. I’m sure she wouldn’t have, though.”

  “You need to find out before you go.”

  “I’ll ask her.”

  “OK,” he said, glancing at his watch. “There’s just one more thing before you leave. Gina thinks you ought to know what to expect if Candy is serious about giving up heroin. Personally, I’m not sure that knowing what to expect will make any difference, but I don’t suppose it’ll do any harm. Do you think she is serious?”

  “I’m not sure.”

  “Has she ever tried giving it up before?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “OK. Well, basically, for what it’s worth, if she does try packing it in, she’s going to feel terrible—I mean, really terrible. She’ll think she’s dying. She’ll think she’s going mad. She’ll be irritable and depressed, sleepless, sick, she’ll hurt all over—stomach cramps, muscle pains, diarrhea, fever—she’ll shout at you, she’ll hate you, she’ll lie to you, she’ll probably get violent with you…” He looked at me. “Do you think you’re ready for all that?”

  “I don’t know…”

  “But you’re willing to give it a try?”

  “Yeah, I think so.”

  He smiled. “She must mean a lot to you.”

  “Yeah…she does.”

  “OK,” he said, “but just remember one thing—whatever feelings she has for you, they won’t be as strong as the feelings she has for heroin. If you want to help her, you might have to lose her.”

  At the time, I didn’t know what he meant, but I found out later that he was right. Maybe not in the way he intended, but I don’t suppose that matters. He was right, intentionally or not…

  He was right.

  Five minutes later we were all in Mike’s car, heading for the station. Gina had cleaned up Candy’s face and put a fresh bandage on her wrist, and now she was telling us what she’d packed in the bag.

  “There’s plenty of tinned food, fresh fruit, orange juice, bread…bandages, aspirin, face cream, toothpaste…I don’t think I’ve forgotten anything. Did you pick up the key to the cottage, Joe?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Do you remember where everything is? The fuse box, spare lightbulbs, sheets, blankets—”

  “Don’t worry,” I said. “We’ll be all right. If we need anything, I’ll phone you.”

  “I put your phone charger in the bag.”

  “Thanks.”

  We were approaching the station now. Mike glanced at me in the rearview mirror, flicking his eyes at Candy. I didn’t know what he was doing for a moment, then he mouthed the word “name” at me, and I suddenly remembered.

  I turned to Candy and said, “Does Iggy know my name?”

  “Your name?”

  “Yeah…I mean, did he ever ask you what I was called?”

  “Yeah, he did…but I lied to him. I said your name was Kevin.”

  “Kevin?”

  “Yeah,” she smiled. “Kevin Williams.”

  “Why Kevin?”

  “I don’t know,” she shrugged. “It was the first thing that came to mind. Maybe it’s because you look like a Kevin…”

  “Thanks a lot,” I said. “So, Iggy thinks I’m Kevin Williams?”

  Candy nodded.

  I glanced at Mike, then turned back to Candy again. “Did you tell anyone else my real name?”

  “Like who?”

  “I don’t know…anyone. What about the girl I spoke to, the one with the black hair? She knew who I was. She knew we’d been to the zoo.”

  Candy shook her head. “I just told her you were a friend. I haven’t mentioned your real name to anyone.”

  I nodded, trying to remember if I’d given my name to the black-haired girl. I’m a friend of Candy’s, I’d told her. We met up a couple of times…

  Was that all I’d said?

  I’m a friend of Candy’s…

  No, I’d said something else.

  My name’s Joe.

  Shit.

  My name’s Joe.

  I looked up and caught Mike’s eye in the mirror again.

  “What’s up?” he asked.

  “Nothing…”

  “Is there a problem?”

  “No,” I said. “No problem.”

  “You sure?”

  “Yeah.”

  I wasn’t sure, of course…but I wasn’t sure what I wasn’t sure about. I couldn’t see how the black-haired girl was anything to worry about. I’d given her my first name, that was all. How could that be a problem? She probably wouldn’t tell Iggy, anyway. And even if she did…well, so what? All he’d know was that I was called Joe. How wa
s that going to help him find me? No, I assured myself, it’s not a problem. It isn’t even worth mentioning.

  So I didn’t.

  But there was something else—something that did feel like a problem and was worth mentioning—only I didn’t know what it was. It was just a fragment of something, a half-formed thought that had flickered so briefly into my mind that I hadn’t had a chance to identify it. All I knew for sure was that it had been there, and now it was gone, and all that was left was a worrying shadow…

  Forget it, I told myself. If it’s important, you’ll remember it. If it’s not, it doesn’t matter.

  So that’s what I did.

  I forgot it.

  The train was approaching the station as Mike pulled up in the parking lot. I grabbed the bags, Candy opened the door, and we both jumped out of the car.

  “Ring us when you get there,” Gina called out through the window.

  “OK,” I called back.

  “And be careful…both of you. Take it easy…”

  As we hurried along toward the entrance, I glanced back at the car and waved my hand in acknowledgment. Gina waved back through the window. She was doing her best to look casual, but even from a distance I could see the distress in her face. I could see Mike putting his hand on her shoulder as she started dabbing her eyes, and just for a moment I seriously thought about turning back. She was my sister. She was scared and upset. I wanted to be with her…

  But then Candy’s voice called out to me.

  “Come on, Joe—hurry up. We’re going to miss the train…”

  And I couldn’t resist it. Despite all the dangers, the doubts, the fears…despite everything my rational mind was telling me—and it was telling me a lot—I just couldn’t resist it.

  I was hooked.

  Blind to the rest of the world.

  I waved to Gina again, then turned around and followed Candy into the station and onto the waiting train.

  chapter seventeen

  The cottage lies at the end of a woodland track near a remote little village called Orwold. It’s a nice old place—a traditional wood-framed bungalow, with three small bedrooms, a combined main room and kitchen, and a rickety veranda out the front—set in a clearing near the edge of the woods. The surrounding pine trees act as shade in the summer, and during the winter, when a sharp northeasterly wind blows in from the nearby estuary, the trees shield the cottage from the worst of the cold.