Skylarks

by Karen Gregory

  Good. Let it swallow up everything.

  But the eviction date is getting closer too. Mum and Dad seem to have retreated into two worlds: bed and work, and even though I sit on the side of their bed to update Dad on the campaign, or fill Mum in after her shift, I don’t think they believe anything’s going to come of it, not really.

  Mum does promise she’s going to come to the protest on Saturday though.

  ‘I’m glad you’re taking a stand, love,’ she says, and I can see through the tiredness she’s proud.

  I wish it was enough.

  I start to feel like we’re running some sort of race: the campaign versus the eviction date and I’ve got no idea which one’s going to win. But we’re pressing on, because that’s all we can do. If we keep the pressure up, maybe White Light will decide the money’s not worth the bother. Or Annabel’s dad will.

  Maybe.

  Kelly comes over the night before the next protest. We’re going to march to the library and post up a new sign over the Huntington one. We sit in the kitchen painting. The sign reads, Community Library: Knowledge for All.

  ‘You know, he could just take his money away and shut the whole thing down,’ Kelly says as she sweeps blue paint across the C of Community.

  I give her a look. She’s quiet tonight, less bouncy than usual. ‘I guess so.’

  ‘Who’ll be the winner then?’ she asks, but I shrug.

  ‘That’s not what this is about.’

  ‘What is it about then?’

  I put my paintbrush down. ‘What do you think? Saving the estate, showing Edward Huntington he can’t just treat us like crap.’

  ‘Not about showing his daughter that then?’

  I grab my brush again and push it down into the blue. After a bit I say, ‘This hasn’t got anything to do with Annabel.’

  Kelly doesn’t answer.

  ‘What’s up?’ I ask when the sign’s nearly done.

  ‘Ananya’s broken up with Pete.’

  I give her a close look. ‘That’s good, isn’t it?’

  Kelly sighs. ‘No, Joni, it’s not. Not really. He never wanted to do that protest at Edrington’s anyway, said it wasn’t fair to everyone’s who’s worked so hard –’

  ‘Fair? What’s fair about what they’re doing to us?’

  ‘Yeah, but it was hardly that lot in the play, was it?’

  ‘May as well have been. You ask me, they’re all the same.’

  Kelly stares at me, then shakes her head and starts painting again. I follow suit. This isn’t a conversation I need to be having. Not now, or ever. Then she says, ‘He’s mad at me too. And I don’t know, maybe he’s right. How’s it fair to go after a whole group, just because of what one person did? I don’t know. It’s all got complicated.’

  ‘Seems pretty straightforward from where I’m sitting.’ I repeat Jamie’s words, Deal’s words. ‘They’re all just as bad. It’s us against them and if we don’t stand up for ourselves, no one will. We’ve got to fight them, no matter what it takes,’ I say, but when she doesn’t reply I leave it, because deep down I know she’s got a point.

  It’s just not one I’m in the mood to listen to right now.

  It’s windy the day of the library protest. Autumn seems to be flying towards us, the leaves on the trees crisping, but I don’t look out for reds and golds the way I do most years. Another thing I can’t seem to see the point in these days. I’m with Dad, now: you can’t eat the scenery.

  I’ve got a hoodie on, the keys to the library in my back pocket. It took forever to find them again up on the Downs. I don’t know if the locks are the same, but if the keys work we can sort out the Huntington plaque inside. Otherwise we’ll just have to do the outside sign. The main thing is to show Edward Huntington up for the sham he is, pretending he gives a crap about the community when all he’s really interested in is his name on the side of a building.

  And that, we can fix.

  ‘You ready?’ Jamie says to me before Deal arrives.

  ‘Think so. What about Mum?’

  Jamie shakes his head. ‘She said she’d try and join us down there.’

  Mum’s not long got in from a night shift that overran.

  ‘Right then,’ I say as the door goes. I take a quick glance in the mirror and my face stares back at me: older, more fixed. I jerk my chin up at my reflection, then run down the stairs to let Kelly in.

  We don’t go in Deal’s car this time; he’s meeting us there. Instead we set off on foot, Jack with us too. As we get to the end of our street, I spot three figures coming towards us: Pete, Ed and Stacey. Kelly runs forward.

  ‘You’re here.’

  ‘Hi,’ Pete says. He doesn’t look like he’s totally forgiven us, but he is smiling. Then he looks at me. ‘Thought I’d be here for Joni.’

  Kelly looks like she’s going to say something, then thinks better of it and gives a shrug as if to say, ‘That’s good enough.’

  Seeing the rest of the gang lightens my mood and we’re joking as we walk, but even I have to stop when I see the size of the crowd gathered outside the library. The whole car park is full of people milling about, way more than there were at the last march. And this time I’m sure there’s even one or two of the Edrington crowd.

  I feel it suddenly, this solar flare of triumph. We’re winning this. The tide’s turning.

  We’re going to get Edward Huntington.

  Well, not ‘get’ get him.

  Perhaps.

  Deal and a big group of his mates are handing out signs, starting up songs, getting the crowd going. The atmosphere’s like a carnival. It’s so packed you can barely move in the car park and people are spilling out on to the pavement.

  Kelly grins at me. ‘This is brilliant.’

  Then a massive car arrives and out comes Jemima. A cheer goes up and the next thing there’s paparazzi too, proper paparazzi like you see on the TV and Jemima’s got a megaphone and she’s yelling some stuff through it while all these photographers take her picture.

  ‘Oh my God, this is going to be everywhere by this afternoon,’ Kelly shrieks.

  Deal’s waving me over. ‘You got the keys?’ he shouts over the noise. I hand them to him. He tries one in the lock and it turns, then he grabs the sign off Kelly and Pete and opens the door, disappearing inside with a couple of his friends. Next thing, they’ve gone up on to the roof and I watch as they fix the new sign over the Huntington one.

  There’s another cheer from the crowd and a sudden burst of camera flashes. I yell too, then Kelly starts everyone off in another round of singing.

  It’s just like before, but even bigger, more people. There’s speeches, singing, chanting, Jemima in front of the cameras. The day stays dry and the sun even comes out as we get towards lunchtime and then a local news crew arrives too.

  But even though part of me is buzzing, enjoying the crowd and thinking how this is going to get our message out to even more people, there’s also a part of me that wonders.

  We’ve already done this once before, but it didn’t stop the eviction notice did it? I stop singing suddenly as it hits me: this is just a fun day out for most of the people here. They’re excited to take part, see Jemima, sing a couple of songs, but at the end of it they’ll go home and nothing will have changed. Not unless we do something even bigger.

  But what?

  Before I get the chance to think about it, a police car pulls up, just like last time too.

  Except this time, another one follows it. Then another and a couple of vans. And it’s not one lone policewoman with a friendly face who gets out, but what looks like a mini army of police officers, some of them wearing body armour, like they’re expecting a riot or something.

  The crowd falls silent.

  ‘What the hell?’ Jamie says from next to me.

  He strides towards the policemen and I scurry after him.

  ‘You’re all going to have to leave,’ a policeman says, his face grim.

  ‘What for? We’re prot
esting peacefully. We’ve got a right to do that,’ Jamie says.

  ‘Nope. This here,’ the policeman waves a piece of paper under Jamie’s nose, ‘says different.’ He raises his voice. ‘I need everyone here to disperse.’

  I look around. The carnival atmosphere has sharpened into something else altogether and for the first time I’m really aware of the crowd as this living thing. A couple of people start to walk away, but lots more are muttering and looking at each other. One woman shouts out in an echo of Jamie, ‘What for? We can be here if we want.’

  In response, the police fan out and start ushering the crowd, trying to move everyone towards the car park entrance, but plenty of people are still standing there, confused. And I suddenly see: lots of them have never been on this side of things before, being told they’ve got to get out when they’re just trying to do something they think they’ve got the right to do. And they don’t know how to react. Energy’s crackling through the crowd now and people aren’t moving. Jack’s on my other side and I step closer to him as he looks up. ‘Why are the police here?’ he says.

  ‘I don’t know. Guess someone high up doesn’t want us out here. But I don’t think we should go anywhere.’ I’m shouting suddenly. A few people nod.

  One of the police starts towards me, then another points out the sign and the open library door. They start to move, but just before they get there, this big group of Deal’s friends move forwards too and suddenly there’s a face-off on the library steps, more police coming up. Then one of Deal’s friends shouts, ‘Piss off, you pig!’ and that’s it: two policemen literally jump on him. I’m not sure if he slips and falls or if they push him down, but his head hits the ground with a smack and this yell goes up from several people. Another two of Deal’s friends try and pull the police off, and others are moving forward, then the crowd shifts as one, people going all over the place.

  Lots are making to leave, but others are crowding forward, shouting at the police to stop.

  Several of Deal’s friends have run into the library.

  And now shouting is erupting all around. I grab Jack’s hand and start pulling him to one side, getting bumped into, and there’s this sudden atmosphere of panic rising up on the heat of the crowd as a couple more scuffles break out. I look back to see people running into the library and the police following, while most of the crowd is streaming away now, their faces scared.

  Jack’s fingers are holding on to mine in a death grip. He’s really white, his eyes wide. Then Jamie’s pushing his way towards us and I more or less throw Jack at him and shout, ‘Take him over there.’

  Jamie’s got no choice but to do what I say.

  I shove through the crowd back towards the library and now my heart’s pounding, rushing in my ears, because I can’t believe the police just came and broke everything up like that. It had to have been Lattimer and Huntington, getting them to come in so heavy handed, and it strikes me again how unfair this is, like they even get to buy whose side the police are on when it shouldn’t be like that at all.

  Two lads I don’t recognise, from Deal’s group I think, are shouting, then the next thing one of them picks up a large stone – I wonder for a second where that came from – pulls his hand back and hurls it at the library window. It shatters, the sound like a gunshot going off in my head. And suddenly all the rage of the last few weeks crashes through me. I want to smash stuff too. I want to tear the whole library down.

  I open my mouth and scream, like the day on the Downs when Annabel’s dad sacked me, when Annabel refused to stand by me. One of Deal’s friends pauses and takes a small step to one side when he gets a look at my face, but the other one grins, this angry light in his eyes like he’s enjoying it, and I know how he feels; how much I want to give in to that rage, to become it. He hands another stone to me.

  I take it, feeling its weight, not cold now but like it’s on fire in my hand. I think of the eviction notice, how Mum’s already started packing.

  As I pull my arm back, I let out another scream and it feels so good, so powerful, like I could fly up into the air and rain rocks down on everyone.

  Then I hurl the stone with all my might, right through the next window.

  There’s a crescendo of noise in my head and then everything seems to go silent again. There’s a police officer coming our way and the two lads scarper to one side, but I’m still standing there, reliving the sound of breaking glass and looking at my hand like I’m not sure it’s even mine any more.

  Not sure I’m even me any more.

  What am I doing?

  I look at the jagged glass with a hole in the centre of it. I did that. I remember how the last time I felt like I was flying, it was down to love, not through rage. And it’s as though something bursts and drains away inside me and I’m left panting, tears in my eyes, my hand still tingling where I held the rock.. Then the crowd’s noise comes back and I hear shouts coming from the library.

  The library.

  My library.

  I run up the steps and through the doors.

  And then I have to stop because I’m not sure what I’m seeing is actually real.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  Deal’s being handcuffed. That’s the first thing I see.

  And then, red.

  So much red everywhere. It’s splashed on the walls, over the books, and for one horrifying moment I think it’s blood. I move in slow motion to crouch behind the desk. Two more protesters are being marched out by more police officers. I get a sudden urge to run away, to go home and hide. To let Mum cuddle me and tell me everything’s going to be all right, even though I was way too old to believe that a long time ago.

  But I can’t go home. And I can’t unsee what’s in front of me.

  One bookshelf is tipped over and all the books have tumbled into a mess on the floor. Nearly every single bookcase is covered in thick red paint, like several tins have been upended and thrown about. There’s broken glass on the floor.

  Broken glass from the window I smashed.

  My stomach twists suddenly and I have to take long breaths to fight the urge to be sick.

  Then I hear a voice spit, ‘Get your hands off me – I can walk.’

  I peer out from my hiding place and see Deal, his face blood-spattered, shrugging a policeman off violently. The policeman steers him out with one hand on his back.

  The place has cleared out now, but I stay where I am. If the police search the place they’ll arrest me, which right now is probably what I deserve. But they don’t. I stay under the desk for a long time, until I’m sure everyone’s gone and then I straighten, my legs protesting, and walk slowly to the middle of the room.

  I pick up a book and turn it over. The paint’s gloss: there’s no way it can be cleaned off. It’s seeped into the edges of the pages, like the book’s bleeding. I realise with a sudden pain in my chest it’s one of the new ones Annabel bought all those weeks ago.

  And then I start to cry.

  Jamie finds me a little while later, still holding the book.

  ‘Come on, Joni, come home.’ He puts one arm around me. ‘The police are going to be back to seal this place off soon. It’s a crime scene now. Let’s not get arrested, on top of everything else today.’

  Outside, the car park is empty apart from a carpet of trampled on signs and litter.

  ‘God,’ I say. Then I look at Jamie and he seems a bit heartbroken as he looks back. ‘That’s it, isn’t it? No one’s going to support us now.’

  Jamie gives a kind of helpless shrug.

  ‘Who the hell were all those people?’

  ‘I don’t know what Dealo was playing at. I know he’s been in touch with other groups, but I don’t think even he knew some of the people who rocked up today.’

  ‘Do you?’

  ‘No. I don’t know. People who want to break things.’

  ‘Yeah.’ I feel so sad suddenly, and tired.

  We stare at the wreckage in the car park.

  ‘Come on
, let’s go,’ Jamie says.

  Kelly calls as we’re on our way back. ‘Where are you? You disappeared when it all kicked off. That was intense. What do you reckon …?’ but I’m not really listening. The gang are all back at Kelly’s, but I don’t fancy going around there and facing them all. From Kelly’s voice, it sounds like it’s still a game to her, but then she never saw the inside of the library.

  There’s worse when we get home. Mum and Dad are in the living room with Jack and they’re not exactly happy. Jack’s got a massive bruise forming on his shoulder where someone knocked into him in the crowd. Jamie told me on the way back how he ran Jack halfway home before Mum screeched up in her car and grabbed him. Then Jamie sprinted back to the library to look for me because in the heat of everything I wasn’t exactly answering my phone.

  Mum looks so disappointed. ‘Jamie, Joni, sit down,’ she begins, and her voice is the sort of quiet it only ever gets if you’re about to be in for a serious bollocking.

  And we get one.

  We organised the march. We took Jack. We were responsible.

  Jamie tries to defend us. ‘We didn’t know Dealo had got all those people involved.’ But Mum’s not having it.

  ‘Your brother was hurt. You could’ve been arrested. How are you going to get a job, with a criminal record? And it sounds like you don’t even know anything about this Mason Deal, if that’s even his real name,’ she adds.

  Jamie’s face is closed but I can tell he’s thinking hard. I sit there quietly, because the thing they don’t know, the thing that seems to be getting bigger and bigger until I’m filled with shame, is that I joined in. I threw that rock.

  I enjoyed it. In that moment at least.

  And Jack – God, we’re lucky he only wound up with a bruised shoulder. He could’ve been crushed or anything. Everything just got way out of hand.