‘In fact,’ Kerry spat, ‘I’m sick of everything about you.’
‘Are you dumping me?’ James asked dumbly.
‘Bingo,’ Kerry nodded. ‘Consider yourself dumped. Now if you’d be so kind as to get your worthless rump out of my room.’
‘But…’
Kerry barged past James and opened her door. ‘Out.’
‘Kerry, come on. Don’t you think you’re over-reacting?’
‘Geeeeeeet out,’ she screamed.
James did as he was told because Kerry had one of her I’m about to shatter your arms and legs looks about her. He stepped out of the room and a gale rushed through his hair as the door slammed behind his head.
The only other person sharing the long corridor with James was a newly recruited cherub called Andy Lagan. The eleven-year-old blue shirt was at a loose end until the next basic training session started in two months.
James looked at him and shrugged. ‘You know what, kid? Girls are all bloody loonies.’
Andy looked baffled by James’ comment. Kerry reopened her door and screamed out, ‘And you can take your stinking boots with you.’
The first boot crashed harmlessly against the wall, but the second hit James square in the back of the head. James turned to have a go back, but the door slammed in his face before he got a chance.
James pounded on the door. ‘You know what? I’m better off without you … Moody cow.’
James realised Andy was grinning. He charged forward and faced the kid off.
‘Do you reckon this is funny?’
‘No,’ Andy smirked, trying to keep a straight face.
James grabbed Andy by his shoulders and wiped his grin off by pushing him against the wall.
‘You wanna try laughing at me again?’ James snarled.
‘I’m sorry,’ the kid grovelled, as he looked up at his significantly larger adversary. ‘I just couldn’t help laughing when she threw the boot at your head.’
Apology or not, James was deeply upset by what Kerry had just done and he couldn’t take someone laughing at him. He raised a hand and smacked Andy across the face, before giving him a powerful shove. The kid bounced off the wall before stumbling backwards into a heap on the floor.
James stood over him with his fists bunched. ‘Still think this is funny? Laugh some more and see what you get.’
Andy gasped tearfully as he crawled back across the carpet. ‘Leave me alone,’ he sniffed.
James watched a tear streak down Andy’s face. He looked nervously over his shoulder to check that nobody else was around, before reaching forward to pick the kid up.
‘I’m really sorry,’ he muttered as his anger deflated. ‘I don’t know what came over me. My girlfriend just dumped me and I went kind of mad …’
Andy screamed out, ‘Don’t come near me, you moron.’
James’ handler, Meryl Spencer, had an office down the hallway and she came out to investigate the noise. James saw Meryl storming towards the scene, as Kerry emerged from her room and barged him out of the way.
Kerry crouched down and handed Andy a clean tissue to dab his face. She cast a furious backwards glance.
‘For god’s sake, James. What is the matter with you?’
10. UNPOPULAR
Meryl spent the best part of an hour shouting at James, while James spent the best part of an hour wondering how one idiotic flash of anger had landed him in such deep trouble. When he finally got out of Meryl’s office, he headed down to the canteen for dinner.
He got a creepy feeling that people were talking behind his back while he was in the queue and none of the gang looked happy when he set his tray down.
James’ crowd was gathered around the two pushed-together tables where they always sat: Shak, Connor, Gabrielle, Kerry and Kyle. The only absentees were Bruce, who was on a mission, and Callum, who was on the toilet. James made a point of sitting as far away from Kerry as possible, in a seat opposite Kyle, who had a foam collar around his neck.
James knew they weren’t exactly going to be falling over themselves to congratulate him on thumping an eleven-year-old, but he thought he’d be OK if he apologised and laid the severity of his punishment on thick.
‘I’m not allowed to go on holiday to the hostel this summer,’ he said solemnly. ‘I’m suspended from missions for a month and I’ve got to clean up the mission preparation building every night for three months … Oh, and I’ve got to start anger management sessions with a counsellor.’
Kyle and the others carried on eating without making a response. James tried again.
‘I really messed up … I mean, I know what I did was bad – well, totally unacceptable really – but …’
Gabrielle angrily cracked the wall of silence. ‘James, nobody at this table is interested. Why don’t you go and sit somewhere else?’
James wasn’t expecting a warm welcome, but Gabrielle’s harshness shocked him.
‘You know how I fly off the handle sometimes,’ he said weakly, glancing at the faces around him and hoping for some sign of support.
Kyle spoke firmly. ‘If you don’t move, then we all will. Do you know what Andy’s been through these past few months?
Meryl had been through Andy’s life story, but that didn’t stop James from getting a reminder.
‘His grandma died in a fire,’ Shak said. ‘The police found out it was arson and accused Andy of killing her. The poor kid spent six months locked up in secure accommodation, until someone grassed up the kids who really did it.’
Kyle nodded. ‘He tried to kill himself before he came to campus. He passed the introductory tests, but he didn’t go into basic training straight away because he’s still pretty messed up.’
‘And you beat him up,’ Connor said accusingly. ‘You’re scum.’ ‘Come on,’ James said in desperation. ‘I didn’t beat him up, it was one slap and a push. I’ll say sorry and give him a couple of my Playstation games to make it up. OK?’
Gabrielle and Kyle slowly shook their heads. James realised he wasn’t going to talk anyone around.
‘Fine,’ James said, as he stood up briskly and grabbed his tray. He tried adding, I’ve got other friends, but he found there was a lump in his throat.
He looked for somewhere to sit. He thought about heading towards Lauren and Bethany, but sitting with a bunch of littler kids wasn’t cool and James doubted they’d be very welcoming. He spotted a few other friendly faces: kids he’d been on training with and kids who were in his classes, but they all had their own little groupings and crashing on another crowd wasn’t the done thing.
He ended up alone at the back of the canteen. Nobody ever sat there unless the joint was packed out, because you could smell the congealed food that had been scraped into the bins.
*
After he’d eaten, James crashed out on his bed and sulked. Four hours earlier he’d been planning a picnic with Kerry, he had a ten-day exemption from exercise and the prospect of five weeks sunning it at CHERUB’s summer hostel at the end of the month. Now his whole life was down the toilet: dumped by Kerry, no friends, no holiday and he could have sworn the mound of homework piled up on his desk was grinning at him.
There was a triple knock at the door: Lauren’s knock.
‘Yeah,’ James said unenthusiastically.
He wasn’t sure how he felt about seeing Lauren. He kind of wanted to see her, but he didn’t want the lecture she was going to give him, however much he knew he deserved it.
‘You OK?’ Lauren asked, as James sat up on his bed. ‘You look like you’ve been crying.’
‘I haven’t,’ he said defensively, but then he shrugged. ‘Yeah, a bit.’
‘Kyle said it’s OK for me to speak to you, seeing as I’m your sister.’
James was narked. ‘What, you have to ask that idiot’s permission to speak to me now?’
Lauren wagged her finger. ‘Don’t knock Kyle. Him and Gabrielle saved your butt.’
‘You don’t know what you’re talking about,�
�� James tutted. ‘You should have seen them at dinner. They were the ringleaders.’
‘Nah-uh,’ Lauren said, shaking her head. ‘Andy’s being looked after by two massive sixteen-year-olds. When they found out what happened they were gonna batter you. Kyle was the one who talked them out of it. He reckoned blanking you would be more effective.’
‘At least if they’d beaten me up it would be over and done with … It’s out of all proportion, Lauren. I threw one punch. In fact, it wasn’t even a punch, it was a slap.’
‘You just don’t get it, do you?’ Lauren said, grinding her palm against the side of her head in frustration.
‘Get what?’
‘This keeps happening, James. You lose your temper and lash out at people.’
‘Like when?’
‘When you were in Year Five and you beat that kid up and smashed all the art equipment. In Year Six when you twisted that kid’s leg around and nearly broke his ankle. You beat up Samantha Jennings the day Mum died. You got in trouble when you were at Nebraska House. You lost your temper and stomped on Kerry’s hand in basic training. Come to think of it, you’ve battered me a couple of times as well.’
‘We were always getting in fights when we were little, Lauren. All kids do that.’
Lauren shook her head. ‘That time you gave me a black eye. We told Mum it was an accident, but it wasn’t, was it? You went nuts because I ate a tiny piece of your Easter egg.’
‘Come on, Lauren. I was ten years old. You’re making me sound like some foaming at the mouth psychopath.’
‘You might not be a psycho, but you have got a nasty side. I hope you do end up losing all your friends over this, James. I hope you never get back with Kerry. Maybe that will make you see that you can’t go around throwing wobblers and beating people up.’
James felt punch drunk from Lauren’s onslaught. ‘Thanks a lot,’ he sniffed. ‘I needed that.’
‘Ah diddums,’ Lauren shrugged. ‘I thought you’d finally grown out of this nonsense.’
‘Kerry dumped me,’ James sniffed. ‘There was no reason behind it.’
Lauren knew her brother was fishing for sympathy and totally ignored him. ‘So what’s gonna happen if you don’t grow out of this, James? Are you gonna end up battering your wife and kids some day?’
James gasped. ‘Lauren, don’t be stupid. I’d never do that.’
Lauren mocked James’ voice, ‘You know I’ve got a bad
temper, I can’t help it sometimes. So, if you can’t help it, how can you know?’
‘Lauren, I’d never touch my wife and kids. I swear to god.’
‘Well here’s an oath for you,’ Lauren said, waggling her finger under her brother’s nose. ‘I’m sick of you acting like a moron. So on our mum’s grave: if this happens one more time, I’m never speaking to you again.’
Lauren stood up and headed for the door.
‘Lauren,’ James shouted desperately.
She stopped. ‘What?’
James shrugged. ‘I don’t know … Stay with me for a bit, watch TV. I don’t feel like being on my own.’
Lauren shook her head. ‘There’s a birthday party on my floor. I’m gonna go upstairs and try to enjoy myself. If you’re stuck here on your own feeling miserable, whose fault is that?’
Lauren turned around and slammed the door after herself.
James collapsed on to his bed. Lauren hadn’t so much touched a raw nerve as rubbed over a whole bunch of them with a cheese grater. As he choked back more tears, James realised that every time he lashed out it was him that got hurt most. He had to learn to control his temper.
11. PROMISES
CHERUB – Good Behaviour Contract
I, James Robert Adams, promise to abide by the following:
(1) I agree to respect all my fellow cherubs and CHERUB staff.
(2) I will not behave in an abusive way to anyone. Either verbally or physically.
(3) I will go to regular anger management sessions with a counsellor.
(4) If I feel angry, I will use the techniques taught by my counsellor to control my mood. I will not lash out.
(5) I will write an apology to Andy Lagan.
(6) I will catch up on my backlog of homework. I will not ask to copy work off my classmates and I understand that I will not be allowed to go off campus until I have completely caught up.
(7) I agree to clean the mission preparation building between 5 and 7 p.m. every day except Sunday, either for three months or until I am sent on a mission.
(8) I will be banned from missions for one month. This ban will be extended to three months if I have not caught up with my homework within this time.
(9) I agree that I will not be entitled to a holiday at the CHERUB summer hostel this year because of what I did.
(10) I agree not to go moaning to my handler Meryl Spencer, asking her to change stuff in this contract after I have signed it.
I understand that this contract will be reviewed after three months. If I have not met ALL ten criteria, I will be subject to severe punishment, which might include being permanently excluded from CHERUB.
Signed: J. R. Adams Handler’s signature: M. Spencer
Witnessed by: L. Z. Adams
12. CLEANING
One month later
For the first eleven years of his life, James had led the same uneventful existence as most other kids: getting up, going to school, coming home to his mum, going on holiday once a year; or twice if he was lucky. Since his mum died, James had led lots of different lives: in a children’s home, training at CHERUB, in a commune with a bunch of hippies, as a trainee drug dealer and even inside an Arizona prison.
But James’ favourite was everyday life on campus. He loved his room, he loved the way every mealtime turned into a big gossip session about who’d got punishment laps, who was trying to get off with who, or just busting each other’s balls over the football results. Best of all he liked the messing around. You never knew when a water fight was going to erupt, or when the next floor up would declare war with a bunch of flour bombs. The schoolwork and the training were hard, but at its best life on CHERUB campus was the most fun James had ever had.
Now he’d been ostracised, James found it embarrassing hanging around with nobody to talk to, so he spent a lot of time in his room. Once the backlog of homework was cleared, he read motorbike magazines or played his Playstation. He hated being shut up in the stuffy room, hearing everyone else having fun: chasing, screaming at each other, slamming doors and an occasional tantrum when something got out of hand. And the worst thing was knowing that it was his own stupid fault.
*
Cherubs can be sent off on long missions at any time and when they come back they’re expected to catch up with the schoolwork they’ve missed. Because of this, every cherub is on an individual curriculum and lessons are taught year round, Monday through Saturday. The only exceptions are public holidays and the days between Christmas and New Year. So while all the other cherubs got their five-week turn at the hostel, James went to lessons every single day.
He felt like he’d scored a minor victory if he managed to race through his homework in the hour between last lesson and setting off to clean up the mission preparation building. He’d managed on this particular Wednesday, so he was in an OK mood as he left his room, but it didn’t last.
Bruce stood in the corridor wearing a pair of swimming shorts three sizes too small for him. Shak was looking at Bruce and laughing.
‘You’ve got to go into town and buy new ones before we fly off,’ Shak giggled. ‘I don’t even know how you got into those things.’
Bruce stared down at his skinny legs and nodded. ‘They fitted me OK last year. But I’ve spent my clothes allowance. I was wondering if I could borrow your blue ones.’
Shak was in the middle of the corridor, blocking James’ path to the lift.
‘ ’Scuse us,’ James said.
Shak tutted
as he backed up to the wall and Bruce scowled at James with complete contempt. As he waited for the lift, James considered how a month earlier he would have been in on the joke. He probably would have got the bus into town with them, cruised the shops and ended up messing around in Burger King.
Things got even more awkward as the lift doors parted, revealing Norman Large standing inside with his head almost touching the plastic ceiling. It was the first time James had seen Large since he’d spoken to the Chairman with Dana, setting off a chain of events that had resulted in Mr Large being demoted to an ordinary instructor. His former assistant, Mr Speaks, had replaced him as the head of CHERUB training.
They didn’t make eye contact and James tried not to think of how effortlessly the giant man could squish him, as the lift trundled down to the ground floor.
When James arrived at the mission preparation building, he had to lean forward and stare into a lens. A red light scanned his retina for identification and a coloured label rolled out of a printer as the door clicked open. He got the same freshly printed sticker with his name and photograph on it every day, so he didn’t even bother to look as he stuck it to his T-shirt upside down.
James had his routine sorted. He’d start off by getting the cleaning cart out of its cupboard. It was a giant contraption with a dustbin built into one end that went up as high as his chin. There was a mop, bucket and Hoover clipped to the sides and a rack of shelves, which were stocked with cloths and cleaning sprays. The mission preparation building had a banana-shaped corridor running its entire length, with twenty offices and special equipment rooms off to the sides and the luxurious offices of the two senior mission controllers – Zara Asker and Dennis King – at opposite ends.
James started with King’s office because he was always out of the building by 5 p.m. The routine was the same in every room: empty the bins, pick up any dirty cups or plates, wipe any surfaces that weren’t covered with junk, vacuum the floor and finish off with a squirt of air freshener. It wasn’t exactly backbreaking, but it got boring when you had to do it every night. Plus, you had to be speedy if you wanted to get twenty offices done, clean and restock four bathrooms, vacuum the corridor and do the washing-up inside two hours. Even working flat out, James could never get through in much less than two and a quarter.
The Killing Page 7