I put away more cake, sliding the spoon slowly into my mouth, savouring each bite. And the silence doesn’t feel weird. When it’s finished I say, ‘Why are you on your own tonight, again?’
‘Daddy’s in town on something work related and Mummy is away at a yoga retreat.’
‘You didn’t want to go?’
Annabel skewers a piece of cake with her fork. ‘No.’ Then after a moment. ‘She didn’t ask.’
She finishes her cake and stands up. I’m seriously full now; my jeans are digging into me.
‘Want a hand clearing up?’ I say. I look around for a dishwasher; they’re bound to have one, but wherever it is, it’s well hidden.
‘Don’t worry about that – Mary will do it tomorrow.’
Annabel has already moved towards one of the doors leading from the kitchen. ‘It’s such a lovely evening. I thought we could go to the lake.’
I’m still marvelling at the ease of just leaving it all for someone else to do, but now my mouth drops open. ‘You’ve got a lake?’ my voice comes out super high. This place is something else.
‘Yes. Come on.’
I follow her from the room, the dirty plates forgotten on the table behind us.
Walking on that pristine lawn feels like stepping on to a massive mattress. The grass is so springy, so perfectly green and even, I almost want to reach down and pull a blade up just to check it’s real. We pass a massive greenhouse (‘Mummy’s hothouse. She grafts orchids – I’ll show you later,’ Annabel says) and go through a gap in the hedge, then down towards a long lake, its surface broken by water lilies and the trailing branches of a weeping willow. A wooden jetty sits at one end and I wonder if they ever sail boats here. The lake is big enough for them. Yachts probably. For all I know her dad has one of those and all. There’s a low building off to one side.
We sit on the jetty and look out over the stillness, surrounded by birdsong and the faint whisper of wind in the trees. Nothing else. No telly, no PS2 sounds, no neighbour’s music coming through the walls or the noise of a motorbike being revved up. It seems like another world. Above us, the sky’s going burnt orange. The breeze is soft on my bare arms. Every muscle in my body feels like it’s relaxing while my brain’s completely wired with thoughts about the food, the house, out here. And her.
‘This is beautiful,’ I say.
Annabel follows my gaze, to where the trees meet the water. ‘Yes. I suppose it is,’ she says.
‘You suppose? Seriously?’
Not far from us is a water lily, its white flowers fanned out over waxy leaves, totally perfect. I stretch my fingers down so their tips touch the water. Ripples spread out into wide arcs.
‘Look,’ I say.
We watch in silence, Annabel close beside me. But when I lean further down, Annabel says, ‘Careful, you’ll fall,’ and puts one hand on my arm.
I pull back, water dripping from my fingertips. Her eyes are really blue. I start to move, twisting my body so we’re face to face and now there’s this look in her eyes, like she knows what I’m thinking, and heat spreading up my arm where her fingers are still holding on. I know this is mad, but there’s something in the stillness in the water, the way she seems lost, the hum inside me that’s getting so loud now it’s drowning out the evening birdsong, that’s pulling me forwards whether I want it to or not.
And even though I know it’s a total line, and Kells would be rolling her eyes at me, somehow the night makes me say the thing that’s in my head without even getting embarrassed about it. Stuff the consequences. ‘What’s so bad about that?’
And I lean forwards and kiss her.
Her lips are warm and soft, and they fit perfectly with mine. For a long moment, there’s just our two mouths touching, neither of us moving or even breathing. Then I part my lips a little and she does the same, so there’s the lightest touch of our tongues against each other.
Inside, the hum I’ve been feeling all night stills into a something I’ve only ever experienced once before, kissing Lara, but way stronger, like the answer to a question I didn’t even know needed to be asked.
Like I’m coming home.
I pull away after a few long seconds, wondering if this is OK, what she’s thinking, but she reaches for my hands so we’re kneeling facing each other, our fingers interlaced at our sides and there’s a look of wonder in her eyes. Her face is flushed in the fading light. I know I’m smiling with my whole body.
I speak first. ‘Was that … OK?’ I say.
‘I … that was … I thought … I mean, I always wondered,’ Annabel begins. I’m still quietly buzzing.
‘Was that your first … you know? With a girl?’
She nods, still looking amazed. Then she gives a little laugh and there’s this quality to it, like she’s shutting down something. The look of wonder fades from her eyes and she speaks in her normal posh voice. ‘Yes … there were one or two at school that I had, well, a crush on. Nothing ever happened. I suppose it wouldn’t with someone from school, but I’ve always wanted to try it.’
She breaks off because I’ve let go of her hands. The sun’s dipping down low, shadows spreading across the lake. ‘Like an experiment?’ I say.
Annabel laughs and flicks her hair back. ‘And a very nice one too,’ she says, still laughing.
There’s a sudden clenching in my stomach, then my face is on fire. How have I read this so wrong? All evening, I’ve been thinking I’m here because she likes me, not because she thinks I’m someone she can play about with, then throw away. As though people like me don’t really count.
Annabel’s frowning now. ‘Joni? I didn’t mean –’
I stand. ‘I think you did.’ My voices catches on the last word and suddenly I’m near tears.
I’ve got to get out of here.
I’m up and running before she gets a chance to scramble to her feet. I spot a path to the side of the house and I run along it, hearing Annabel call after me, but I ignore her and keep going. She rounds the corner as I’m getting on my bike.
‘Joni! Please wait!’
But I don’t, I shove my head down and pedal fast, heart going hard. At the gate I punch the button to open it, hear her voice calling out my name as she runs around the corner, but I’m already through and into the country lanes. I don’t look back.
It’s almost dark when I arrive home and go in through the back gate to put my bike in the outhouse, then I stop and wipe my eyes before I open the back door into the kitchen.
I stop. Mum, Dad and Jamie are all sat around the table. I can see in their faces something’s wrong. There’s an open letter on the table in front of them.
‘What?’ My voice is rough.
‘Would you like a cup of tea, lovey?’ Mum says, and even though I can tell she’s really worried about something, she gives me a close look and says, ‘Everything all right?’
I ignore both these questions and say, ‘What’s going on? Where’s Jack?’
‘He’s fine – he’s at Dylan’s,’ Mum says.
I let out a small sigh of relief. ‘What is it then?’
Dad’s voice sounds defeated. ‘We got a letter …’
‘And I was right,’ Jamie says, his eyes dark with bitterness. I go to the table and pick up the letter with its logo of a blank, white sun, and scan it.
‘They’ve bought the estate?’ I say.
‘Of course they have. I told you all –’
‘Yes, thank you, Jamie,’ Mum says.
I swallow, then say, ‘Well, it might be OK, right?’
‘You haven’t read the back. Rents are doubling, just like Dealo said they would,’ Jamie says. ‘To pay for “regeneration” – or to get us all out.’
I turn the letter over and wince at the figure. ‘We can’t afford this. Not now –’ I snap my stupid gob shut, but it’s too late to take back the words. Dad’s face contorts.
There’s a long silence, then Mum says without much conviction, ‘We can work something out. I can ask for more overtime. And y
our dad –’
Dad grabs his coat and limps out the back door for a fag.
‘So we’ll move then?’ I say and my voice has a wibble in it. I don’t want to leave here.
Mum sighs.
Jamie still looks bitter. ‘Yeah – and where do you think we’re going to get the cash from for a deposit and three months’ rent in advance? If we can even find anywhere around here with rent we can afford? We’re already a month behind as it is. We’ll be homeless. I told you all this was going to happen, but no one bothered listening to me. We could’ve –’
‘That’s enough, Jamie,’ Mum says and rubs her hand over her forehead, then looks at me. ‘You’re not to worry, love.’
But how can I not worry when I see in her eyes that we’re not going to be OK? Mum sighs, then goes into the garden. And though I know I shouldn’t watch, I can’t help following her to the door, and it seems like a piece of me breaks.
Because Dad is sitting in the back garden, Mum’s arm around his shoulders as she talks into his ear, and for the first time in my life, I see my dad crying.
I meet her eyes and she gives a shake of her head. I know she’s right; Dad wouldn’t want me to see this. I pull the door quietly to, turn mechanically to the oven and get out a plate of shrivelled veggie sausages and mash; I never told them I was eating at Annabel’s …
Annabel. I don’t even want to think about her right now. Her laugh sounds in my mind again. It’s people like her who’ve bought the estate and shoved up the rent. People like her who think they can play about with us because they’ve got all the power and we’ve got none. The anger pushes up from my chest and I clench my jaw against it, feel it wedged in the back of my throat.
‘You want this?’ I say to Jamie, in a shaky voice. He picks up a sausage and then plonks it back down and shakes his head. I scrape the food into the bin, the knife screeching against the plate.
As I sit back at the table, the anger begins to give way to fear. ‘What are we going to do?’ I say, my voice small.
Jamie’s been staring out of the window to where the light makes a square on the patch of grass and dandelions beyond, but now he comes over to give me a hug. This is the big brother I need, the one who nailed boards and a rope ladder to the horse chestnut tree in our garden so I could have a base to sit in for hours, who took me out on bikes with his mates and cleaned the grit out of my knee when I fell over. The one who’s always known what to do.
He pulls back and grabs some kitchen roll so I can blow my nose. ‘Well, we’re not going to do nothing, that’s for sure. Me and Dealo have been talking about this for ages. There’s other places this has happened to – I’ve looked it up.’
‘Really?’
‘Yeah. Mum and Dad are all like, “You can’t stop it, these big companies always get their way”, but that’s not true. Other places have fought it, they haven’t just rolled over.’
Jamie sits tall at the table, his face blazing with determination and suddenly I feel taller too.
‘We’re not going to let them kick us out. We’re going to fight this, Joni, whatever Mum and Dad say. And I’m going to need your help.’
I listen to the sound of Mum’s low voice out in the garden with Dad and feel my chest tighten, then I swipe at my eyes and look back at Jamie.
‘OK. What do I need to do?’
CHAPTER TWELVE
‘Bloody thing! How do you make something your home page?’
We’re in Jamie and Jack’s room, grappling with WordPress on Deal’s laptop.
‘Click on the side bar.’ Deal leans over Jamie to point. He’s been round a few times in the last week and in between knocking on neighbours’ doors, writing up lists of people to contact, making a website and the cleaning job at the office, I’ve barely had time to think about anything else, which is probably a good thing. My phone goes off and I check it, then chuck it back on Jamie’s bottom bunk unanswered. Annabel again. She’s texted every day, but I haven’t replied.
‘What do I put then?’ Jamie says.
I look at my phone one more time, then shake myself and say, ‘Pass me the laptop – I’ll write it.’ There may be a touch of exasperation in my voice. I wanted to set up something simple, but whatever.
An hour later we have a Twitter account, an email address, a WordPress site and a new blog post explaining what’s happening to the estate. It was Deal’s idea to set up a website first, so it can be a hub for people to find out more about the campaign. We’re not sure what to call it yet: Deal wants ‘The 99% Fight Back’ but that sounds like those protests that happened years back when everyone camped in tents in London and stuff, and from what I remember, it all sort of fizzled out. I want the simple ‘Save Cherry Tree Estate’ but Deal reckons that’s not got a broad enough appeal.
‘Stuff broad appeal – we’re only trying to stop a few people getting evicted,’ I said to him the other night.
‘You’re not thinking wide enough. This could be a catalyst for something much bigger,’ he said, but I’m not convinced. I’m not bothered about saving the world or anything, I just don’t want to be homeless.
Deal takes hold of the mouse and I sit back to watch him and Jamie work. Now I’m getting to know him better, Deal seems OK. I wonder if the weird vibe I picked up off him when he first became friends with Jamie was him being shy. Maybe I’m a bit quick to jump to conclusions about people.
Like Annabel?
I squash that voice right down.
My phone goes again and I sigh. Maybe I should text back, clear the air. It’s Saturday tomorrow so I’m going to have to see her then. We could forget the whole thing. Or I could see if there’s more hours going cleaning, but I don’t want to jack in the library job. It’s regular money for one thing, so I can’t risk it, not right now when the cleaning job’s only for a few more weeks. And besides, the library … it was mine. Before Annabel came and made stuff complicated.
It’s not Annabel texting this time though. It’s Kelly. Where are you? Thought you were coming over? Xxx.
‘Oh bollocks.’
‘What?’ Jamie says.
‘I forgot I was supposed to go to Kelly’s tonight.’
‘Seriously?’ Jamie’s starting to wind up – he’s been really stressed this last week, but to my surprise, Deal jumps in.
‘I think we’re done here for tonight. We’ve got work in a bit anyway, Jamie.’
‘Yeah, OK …’ Jamie raises a tired face to me. ‘We need to think about telling Mum and Dad, especially once we get the press involved.’
‘The press?’
‘Yeah – we’ve got to get the public on our side,’ Deal says.
Jamie scratches at his stubble. ‘Maybe we’ll leave it for a bit though?’
I give a faint nod. The press? And public? This is all moving too fast for me. I grab my phone and leave them to it.
Kelly shrieks when she sees me. ‘You’re here! I thought you weren’t going to come.’
‘I know, sorry …’ Annoyingly, my eyes start to water. I was thinking about Annabel again on the way over.
‘What’s happened?’
I shake my head, not knowing which bit to tell her first.
Kelly reaches forward and pulls me inside. ‘Come on, I’m making hot chocolate.’
We sit on Kelly’s bed with our steaming mugs and I take a deep breath and then start talking. I tell her everything that’s happened, with finding out about the house … and Annabel.
She listens right through to the end, blowing on her hot chocolate and taking careful sips. ‘Bloody hell. Why didn’t you say anything before? Come here.’ She gives me a hug, then sits back. ‘Right. Which bit do you want to talk about first? And by the way, I knew something was up with Annabel. I know you too well.’
I take a sip of my hot chocolate, which is lukewarm now, but still comforting, and give a small smile. ‘Yeah.’
‘How’s your parents?’
‘Mum’s working millions of extra shifts and Dad’s
pretty much in bed with his back. It’s like he’s given up. I think he feels useless.’
Kelly makes a sympathetic face. ‘Right then, let’s get going on this campaign.’ I love how she doesn’t say it with imaginary air quotes, but like it’s a real, serious thing. ‘You got any followers yet? Give me all the passwords and I’ll start posting. We need a logo too. I’ll make one, I’m good at that stuff. And some slogans.’
‘Thanks, mate. I’ll ask Deal for the passwords.’
She raises her eyebrows. ‘You’re getting on with him now?’
‘Well, he’s been pretty good with all this campaign stuff.’
‘Mmm.’ Kelly’s only met him the once and apart from saying, ‘Jesus, he’s almost too good-looking, isn’t he?’ she didn’t really have an opinion on him. Now though she says, ‘Why’s he helping so much?’
‘For Jamie, I guess,’ I say.
‘You don’t think those two …?’
‘Christ no. Jamie’s straight.’
‘What about Deal?’
‘Who knows?’
‘He rents a room at the pub, doesn’t he? Where do you reckon he comes from? Where’s his family?’
‘Don’t know. Does it matter?’
Kelly knocks back the rest of her hot chocolate, then scrunches up her nose. ‘Nah, suppose not. Just curious, is all.’ She gives a wicked smile. ‘I could probably get to know Mason Deal a lot better, if he was up for it.’
I laugh, then say, ‘Well, whatever, I’m glad he’s helping. It’s good to be doing something, although I’m not sure it’s actually going to be much use.’
‘Oh well, glad you’re looking on the bright side. Positive mental attitude and all that.’ She grins and I manage a smile back. Then she says in a softer voice, ‘It’ll be OK, Joni.’
‘How?’
‘I don’t know but, well, no one’s dead, right?’ She gives me a careful look. ‘Maybe your dad will get another job?’
We’ve had arguments before on the topic of money not buying you happiness. I know Kelly tries to understand, but it’s not the same for her. Her parents can afford holidays, school trips, a new car every few years, God, even Walkers crisps not own brand, though I still remember her giving it out to Meghan West and her gang when they were teasing me about my lunch in Year Four. But Kelly doesn’t really get what it’s like to worry about every little thing. Right now, for instance, we’re out of bog roll, milk, bread, shampoo … I’m going to have to use the money I got paid for the cleaning to get some stuff in, which means the Jack School Trip Fund still has precisely fifty quid in it.
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