by Kevin Brooks
‘… probably at the beach or something. She might be at Reed’s place. I don’t know.’
‘Did you see him?’
‘Who?’
‘Reed. Earlier on, poncing round the village in his stupid coat …’
I could see two pairs of boots walking across the floor towards me. Two pairs of boots, two moving voices. From the way they were talking, I didn’t think Jamie and Dom had seen me, but I was still pretty scared. I was breathing hard, almost panting. It sounded incredibly loud. Even if they hadn’t seen me, I was sure they’d hear me. But as I lay there with my head pressed to the floor, they just carried on talking, and gradually my fears began to recede.
They were still talking about Simon.
‘So he’s the boyfriend, is he?’ Jamie asked.
Dominic sat down in the wicker chair against the wall. ‘No,’ he said. ‘Not really. I think they’re just friends.’
Jamie laughed. ‘The odd couple.’
Dominic laughed, too, but without any enthusiasm. ‘Simon’s all right. He’s just a bit—’
‘He’s a tosser.’
Jamie dropped a six-pack of beer on the floor then plonked himself down on the bed. The bedsprings groaned and the mattress plummeted down to within an inch of my head. Bits of fluff and dust billowed up into my face and I had to pinch my nose to keep from sneezing.
Jamie’s voice boomed out from above me. ‘Does she do him?’
‘For God’s sake, Jamie! She’s my sister. She’s just a kid.’
‘Yeah? Have you seen her recently?’
‘Leave it out.’
‘I wouldn’t say no.’
‘Christ!’
Jamie farted. The sound reverberated through the mattress and the smell seeped down like a cloud of poison gas. It was vile. I heard Jamie slurping from his beer can, then I heard a cigarette being lit. Across the room I could see Dom’s legs in the wicker chair. His hand dropped into view, tightly gripping a burning cigarette. On the bed, Jamie adjusted his position and the mattress bounced and then sagged down again. I turned my head away from the sagging bit and listened to Jamie’s voice. He was still talking about me.
‘… she’s the same age as Bill.’
‘So?’
‘You don’t mind sniffing around her, do you?’
‘She’s the one does all the sniffing.’
Jamie laughed. ‘So I’ve heard.’
I carefully picked a lump of fluff from my tongue.
Dominic said, ‘Anyway, what’s Cait got to do with anything? Why are you so interested in her?’
‘Interested? What’s there to be interested in?’
‘You tell me. You’re the one looking in her room, asking where she is, who’s her boyfriend—’
‘I was just asking, that’s all. I like to know what’s what. Besides, I’m already spoken for.’
Dominic let out a quiet snort. ‘That’s not what Angel thinks.’
‘Angel doesn’t have to think – not with that body. Did you see her last night? Jesus …’
Above me, the bed vibrated.
‘You’re a sick man, Jamie.’
He laughed. ‘Sick as a dog.’
‘No, I mean it. Angel’s just a kid. She’s still at school, for Christ’s sake. She doesn’t know what she’s doing.’
‘You reckon?’
‘Come on … all that tarty stuff? It’s just an act. It’s a game. If anyone touched her she’d run a mile.’
There was an ugly silence for a moment. Then Jamie said, ‘Yeah well … we’ve all got to learn some time.’
Dominic sighed. ‘And what if Sara finds out? You know what she’s like. She’ll go ballistic. Remember what she did to that girl in the pub, the one she caught you out the back with? Christ – if the landlord hadn’t stepped in she would have killed her.’
Jamie laughed. ‘It’s all part of the fun, Dom. Bit of this, bit of that, bit of slap and whack … there’s nothing like a bit of slap for keeping things fresh. Know what I mean?’
‘Not really.’
‘No, I don’t suppose you do.’ He laughed again. ‘You’re too damn Irish, that’s your trouble. You think with this—’ I heard him thump his heart ‘—when you should be thinking with this.’
The bed wobbled again, vibrating with Jamie’s dirty laugh – nyuh nyuh nyuh – and for a moment I thought I was going to be sick. I’d never really heard boys talking about girls before, at least not when they thought they were alone. Although I had a good idea of what they talked about, I’d never really imagined the way they talked about it. It was so cold and nasty, so insecure, so false. It was nauseating. Of course, I knew it was wrong to judge others by Jamie Tait’s standards, but I had a funny feeling he probably wasn’t that much worse than most.
The bed bounced and Jamie’s voice spoke up again. ‘When’s your old man getting back?’
‘Bill said about four. Rita’s taking him to Sloppy Joe’s.’
‘Good choice – you want another beer?’
‘Yeah.’
Jamie’s hand snaked down and he peeled a couple of cans from the pack on the floor. I heard him throw one over to Dom, then he lay back on the bed and popped open the other one. Meanwhile, Dominic had got out of the chair and walked over to the window. From where I was lying all I could see was his boots and the bottom half of his legs, but that was enough to tell me he wasn’t very comfortable. Maybe I was just kidding myself, but I got the impression his heart wasn’t in it – whatever it was. Being grown up, acting big, talking dirty … it just didn’t come naturally to him. He was having to work at it.
I heard him open his beer and take a sip. Then I heard the window opening, and a draught of air blew cigarette smoke across the room.
Jamie’s voice piped up again. ‘You had any of that stuff that Lee brought in?’
‘Yeah,’ said Dominic.
‘Any good?’
‘It’s all right. A bit buzzy.’
‘Tully said he was getting some more …’
I didn’t know what they were talking about, but I presumed it was smuggled booze or drugs or something. There’s a lot of petty smuggling on the island – cigarettes, tobacco, beer, wine, a bit of cannabis now and then … everyone does it, it’s no big deal. Most people don’t even bother talking about it, but I suppose Jamie and Dom thought it was cool. Stuff, gear, booze … blah, blah, blah … it all sounded pretty puerile to me, like two little kids talking about bloody Pokémon cards or something.
I tuned out for a while and looked around at my surroundings. I had to crane my neck and scrape my head against the floor. There wasn’t a lot to see. Bedsprings, dust, bits of cotton, a paperclip, dog hairs, a grimy old 2p coin. The underside of the mattress was dotted with holes and mouldy-looking stains, and the joints of the bed frame were pitted with rust.
I turned my head and looked across the room.
That’s when I saw the pill.
It was on the carpet on the far side of the bed, about an arm’s length away from the edge. The carpet was dark grey, so the pill stood out like a snowball in an empty car park. I couldn’t believe I’d missed it. Luckily, it was hidden from Dominic’s view by the bed. But I was pretty sure that Jamie could see it. Unless he was facing the other way … or maybe he had seen it but didn’t think it was worth mentioning …?
It didn’t really matter.
I had to retrieve it.
Jamie and Dom were still talking, nattering away about cars or boats or something, and they’d both started on another can of beer. I guessed that if they kept on slurping it wouldn’t be long before one of them needed to use the bathroom, and when that happened there was a good chance that one of them would see the pill. So I didn’t have a lot of time.
I started slithering across the floor, moving as fast as I could without stirring up the dust. There wasn’t much room. I had to flex my legs, balance myself on my elbows and arch my back, then slide across the floor inch by inch. I couldn’t help making a bit of noise
, so I timed my movements to coincide with the sound of their voices. Every time they stopped talking, I lay still. Fortunately, they didn’t stop talking very often, so it didn’t take long to reach the edge of the bed. Then it was just a question of reaching out and grabbing the pill. But I still didn’t know which way Jamie was facing. If he was looking this way, he’d see my hand. He’d have to be blind not to see it. I lay there for a while, staring at a rip in the mattress, trying to work out what to do, but nothing came to me. I couldn’t think how to find out which way Jamie was facing. I couldn’t think of a safe way of distracting him. And I couldn’t think of any other way of retrieving the pill.
In the end I just took a deep breath, counted to three, then whipped out my hand and snatched the damn pill.
The talking suddenly stopped.
I held my breath.
Then I heard the click of a lighter and a sharp intake of breath as Jamie lit another cigarette, and I carefully breathed out again. The smell of cigarette smoke filled the room and I could hear Jamie making stupid little noises as he tried to animate some sordid joke he was telling Dom.
I backed away from the edge of the bed and lay still, letting my heart settle down.
After the joke was finished, and Jamie had laughed himself stupid, I heard Dominic cross the room to fetch himself another beer. Then he went back over and sat down in the wicker chair. I heard Jamie sigh, and I felt him lie back on the bed.
It was quiet for a while.
I realised I was still gripping the pill in my hand. I could feel it, hard and round, in my palm. I’d been in such a hurry when I was picking up the pills that I’d never bothered checking to see what they were. Not that it mattered. But now I had time to spare, I was curious to find out. I lifted my hand to my face and uncurled my fingers. The light was dim under the bed, so I moved my hand right up close to my eyes and peered at the little white pill. I didn’t really know what I was expecting to see. Ecstasy, maybe? Amphetamines? LSD? Nothing would have surprised me. But when I saw the familiarly simple design, and suddenly recognised it for what it was, I felt like screaming.
It was an aspirin.
After a while the effects of the beer took hold and Jamie and Dom started giggling like idiots. Their conversation descended into a series of garbled laughs, unfinished sentences, and irrelevant digressions. They sounded like a couple of over-excited eight-year-old boys, the sort of boys who don’t know what they’re talking about but are determined to talk about it anyway. I couldn’t be bothered to listen any more. I’d had enough of it. So I just lay there with my eyes closed and my arms crossed over my chest, waiting for them to shut up and leave.
I felt like a corpse.
A corpse with an aching back and a numb backside.
I don’t know how long I lay there. It was probably no more than an hour or so, but it felt like a month. Jamie kept talking, they both kept drinking and smoking, and after a while the room got muggy with smoke and beer fumes and I started feeling a bit drowsy. To avoid dozing off, I thought of the beach, imagining the breeze on my skin and the smell of the sea air … but it didn’t do any good. I stifled a yawn. My head felt thick and my body was numb. I was falling asleep.
Just as I was drifting off, I heard someone say Lucas. At first I thought I’d imagined it, but then I heard it again. It was Jamie’s voice. Suddenly I was wide awake.
‘… Sara told me,’ he was saying. ‘Craine took him in for questioning on Sunday.’
‘What for?’
‘They were asking him about Kylie Coombe. Her mother still thinks he molested her. Stupid bitch.’
‘I thought you said he did?’
‘Of course he didn’t. The little cow was drowning – I was just about to dive in and get her myself when the gyppo jumped in.’
‘So why are you backing up Ellen’s claim?’
Jamie didn’t answer.
Dom said, ‘He’s not doing any harm—’
‘No? Have you ever seen a gypsy camp? Crap all over the place, dogs, horses, nicked cars, lorry-loads of scrap-metal and tarmac …’
‘Don’t be ridiculous.’
‘Don’t be what?’
‘I didn’t mean—’
‘You think I’m being ridiculous?’
‘No … I just meant …’
‘What?’
‘Well, he’s on his own, isn’t he? He’s not part of some travelling tribe or anything. He’s not even a gypsy. He’s just a kid.’
‘I don’t care what he is – the little bastard’s not staying here.’
There was a brief silence then, and I realised I was holding my breath. I gently let it out and breathed in. My chest hurt. My head was still muzzy from all the smoke and I was finding it hard to take in what Jamie had said. I knew it meant trouble, but I wasn’t sure why or how or when or where. It was like switching on the TV halfway through a soap that you never watch and trying to work out what’s going on.
Jamie said, ‘This is our island, McCann. We live here, most of us were born here. This is our home … you don’t let shit into your own home, do you? You keep it out – right?’
Dom mumbled something unintelligible.
Jamie continued, his voice sounding slightly deranged. ‘Look, the gypsy’s not going to be charged over this Kylie thing, he’s not going down for it or anything, but the longer we keep it going the dirtier he looks, and the dirtier he looks the easier it’ll be to get rid of him. Once he’s got a name for himself, people will believe anything. A rumour here, a rumour there – you know how it is. Cars get broken into … things get nicked … some young girl might be walking on the beach … someone waggles his todger at her … she reports it to DI Toms … these things happen.’
‘Then what?’
‘If he’s got any sense, he’ll leave before it gets any worse.’
‘And if he doesn’t?’
‘He will. I’ve asked Lee to have a word with him. Lee can be very persuasive when he wants to.’
‘How’s he going to find him?’
‘Joe Rampton’s offered him an afternoon’s work tomorrow, clearing the hedges in the bottom field. He’ll finish at six. Joe’s going to pop down and pay him before he finishes so he won’t have to walk up round the house. He’ll cut down through the lane. We’ll be waiting for him.’
‘We?’
‘Me and Lee – and you, of course.’
‘Me?’
‘Why not?’ There was a mocking edge to his voice. ‘It’s about time you showed us what you’re made of.’
Ten minutes later, after Dominic had rummaged around for a clean shirt while Jamie sat on the edge of the bed scratching at mosquito bites on his leg, they finally left. I listened to them stomping down the stairs, into the kitchen, then back out into the hallway. I heard Deefer’s tail thumping against the wall as Dominic said something to him. And then, at last, I heard the front door open and close. I waited until I could hear their footsteps crossing the yard, then I rolled out from beneath the bed, brushed myself down, and hurried off to the bathroom.
From outside I could hear Jamie’s Jeep starting up. He revved the engine, turned on the sound system, then swung the car around the yard, showering the lawn with gravel, and raced off up the lane in a swirl of thumping bass beats.
I sat there holding my head in my hands.
It was turning out to be one hell of a summer.
ten
W
hen it comes to beliefs, I like to think I’m pretty level-headed. I don’t believe in God and I don’t believe in the Devil. I don’t believe in Superman or Santa Claus, and I don’t believe that characters in soap operas are real. I don’t believe in these things because they don’t make sense. I’m perfectly happy to accept that other people believe in them, and if God turned up one day I’d be more than happy to sit down and have a chat with him – but I’m not holding my breath.
Religion, astrology, UFOs, corn circles, ghosts, spoon-bending, faith-healing – none of these things make any
sense, and that’s why I don’t believe in them. I know that strange things happen – like when the phone rings just as you’re thinking about someone, and when you pick up the phone it’s them – but that doesn’t mean anything. It’s just coincidence. How many times do you think of someone and the phone doesn’t ring? Yes, strange things happen. But it’s a big world, there’s a lot of stuff going on – it’d be strange if strange things didn’t happen now and again.
The point is, although I don’t believe in these things, that doesn’t mean they don’t believe in me. I’m not quite sure what that means, if anything, but I know what it feels like. Because, as I walked down the lane that afternoon after Dominic and Jamie had gone, I knew without a shadow of doubt that Lucas would be waiting for me at the creek. I knew it. It was there, in my mind. It was already a part of me. I didn’t just picture him, he was there – like a memory of the future.
It didn’t make sense.
How did he know I was looking for him?
How did he know I was coming?
How did I know he was there?
I didn’t know.
I still don’t know.
But I wasn’t wrong.
He was sitting quietly on the bank, leaning back on one elbow and chewing on a blade of grass. The creek was almost still. The sun’s reflection rippled on the surface and a pair of swans floated motionlessly at the water’s edge, their necks upright and their eyes fixed on Lucas. I paused for a moment to take it all in. The hazy air, the mottled colours, the dappled light … it was like a scene from an Impressionist painting.
The afternoon breeze ruffled my hair as I moved on down the lane.
Despite everything, I felt surprisingly calm. It was an odd sense of calmness, kind of dull and emotionless, and normally that would have worried me. I would have wanted to know why I wasn’t feeling anything. Why wasn’t I nervous, happy, sad, frightened, angry, excited … what was the matter with me? Was I sick? Didn’t I care? Was I fooling myself? It would have bothered me, and that would have made me feel even worse. But that afternoon I didn’t give it a moment’s thought. It just didn’t seem to matter. It was almost as if I’d been here before, and whatever lay ahead had somehow already happened, so there was no point in being emotional about it. It was beyond emotion.