The voices downstairs grew louder, more heated. Fragments of dialogue made it up the stairs intact.
‘. . . could have checked with me first,’ the man said.
‘Does it matter?’ Abigail’s mum replied.
‘. . . typical, isn’t it?’
‘. . . just one night. She never has friends to stay . . . do her good to . . .’
‘You should have asked me!’
The argument ended. Abigail stood up and shut the door.
Footsteps ascended the stairs. A hand knocked on the bedroom door, followed by an inquisitive, friendly head: Abigail’s dad.
‘Hello, you must be Tamsin,’ he said, smiling cheerfully.
‘Hi,’ Tam managed.
He looked at Abigail. ‘Hello, sweetheart. Good day at school?’
Abigail didn’t reply.
Abigail’s dad stood there, a smirk fixed on his face, about to say something else when the doorbell rang. ‘Have you ordered takeaway?’ he asked, brow furrowed, eyes piercing Abigail.
‘Mum said it was OK.’ She could barely look up at him.
Abigail’s dad’s face broke into a grin. ‘Great, I’m starving. What is it? Pizza?’
Abigail nodded.
‘OK, see you in the kitchen.’ He disappeared from the bedroom and pounded down the stairs to answer the door.
‘He seemed OK,’ Tam said, trying to lighten the atmosphere.
Abigail snorted to herself.
After a moment Tam followed Abigail to the kitchen. The pizzas were out on the worktop, along with chips, garlic bread and a big bowl of salad. Tam’s mouth watered.
‘Help yourself, love,’ Abigail’s mum said with a wave of her arm towards the food. ‘Don’t be shy.’
‘If you’re not quick I’ll eat it all,’ Abigail’s dad added, his mouth already full. He stood by the cooker, a half-eaten slice of pepperoni pizza in his hand. Abigail’s mum laughed politely. Even Abigail smiled. It all seemed so normal, but there was a tension between the three of them that sent a shiver down Tam’s spine. It was as if they were all playing parts, performing for their audience.
Even so Tam couldn’t ignore her hunger. She took a plate and filled it with slice after slice of pizza, topping it off with chips.
Abigail filled up her own plate and sat on a stool at the breakfast bar. Tam followed, sitting next to her, feeling uncomfortable. She focused on the food, doing her best not to eat too quickly.
‘Are you all set for your CGSEs, Tamsin?’ Abigail’s mum asked cheerfully as she rearranged the remaining pizza slices onto a plate and discarded the cardboard boxes.
‘No, not really,’ Tam said honestly.
‘What do you want to do after that? Sixth form college?’
Tam shrugged, her mouth full.
‘Abigail’s gonna study maths,’ her dad said proudly, ‘aren’t you?’
‘Dad . . .’
‘She’s brilliant at maths . . .’
‘Am not,’ Abigail mumbled.
‘It’s a good solid subject. Get you in lots of jobs will maths,’ her dad continued, talking directly to Tam. ‘Better than art.’
‘I can do both,’ Abigail replied angrily.
‘What for though? Art won’t get you a decent job, will it?’
‘Dave,’ Abigail’s mum cautioned.
‘What?’ he asked.
‘Not now.’
Abigail’s dad’s face tensed. He turned away and took another slice. When he turned back towards them his features had eased, a smile fixed in place.
‘Can we take this upstairs?’ Abigail asked, gesturing to the remaining pizza.
Her mum glanced at her husband then back to Abigail, nodding.
Abigail filled up her plate again and indicated for Tam to do the same. Once they had enough they retreated back up to the spare room. As the door closed Abigail’s body relaxed.
‘God, they’re embarrassing,’ she said, eating more noisily now.
‘They’re OK,’ Tam replied.
Abigail shot her a look.
‘OK,’ Tam conceded. ‘Your mum seems nice.’
Abigail shrugged. ‘Yeah, she’s OK, I suppose.’
‘What’s with maths and art?’ Tam asked between bits of food.
Abigail sighed. ‘Dad has this thing about proper subjects.’ She gestured with her hands as she said proper. ‘He thinks art is a waste of time.’
Tam replied, ‘I hate art, I dropped it.’
‘I love it. I want to do something with it one day, but—’
‘But what?’
Abigail shook her head, her lips pressed tightly together.
Tam edged closer, her voice quiet. ‘You shouldn’t let him stop you doing it, not if you really want to.’
‘I know, it’s just . . . everything’s up in the air.’ She looked at Tam and giggled. ‘Sorry, that wasn’t meant to be a joke.’
‘It was a joke?’ Tam teased, joining in with Abigail’s infectious laughter.
‘One minute Mum says they’re breaking up, then they get back together. We’re supposed to be leaving, just her and me, and we even pack bags, then she changes her mind and they make up,’ Abigail explained, her features becoming stern again. Emotion bubbled up, her eyes moistened. She shook her head, wiping her face with her hand. ‘I think tomorrow we could test how far you can fly away from the wood.’
‘You’re changing the subject, aren’t you?’
‘Yes,’ Abigail grinned, finishing off the scraps of food on her plate. ‘Do you think you could carry someone?’
‘What? When I’m flying?’
‘Yeah. Superman does it all the time.’
‘I’m not Superman, obviously. There’s a few physical differences for a start.’
‘Super-Tam?’
Tam laughed, spitting out fragments of food.
‘Gross,’ Abigail said, joining in with the laughter.
‘Don’t ever call me that, OK?’ Tam smiled.
‘I’m gonna get you a T-shirt with it printed on. Super-Tam in huge letters!’
Tam laughed again, imagining herself wearing it. ‘That’s your worst idea yet.’
‘But we could try it.’ Abigail beamed.
‘The T-shirt?’
‘No, no. You could try to carry someone.’ Her grin widened.
Tam sighed. ‘You want to fly, don’t you?’
‘Obviously! Everyone does.’
‘Do they?’
‘Yes.’
‘Well, I don’t think I can help. Like I said, I’m not Superman – or Super-Tam. I’d struggle to lift you up if I was just stood on the ground, never mind while I’m flying. It takes all my concentration. It’s really hard.’
Abigail grinned at her, like a kid wanting an ice cream.
‘I’m not carrying you,’ Tam said firmly.
‘We’ll see.’
‘No, we won’t.’
‘Sleep on it,’ Abigail laughed.
Tam smirked back, realizing Abigail was staring at her, a puzzled look on her face. ‘What?’ Tam asked.
‘Nothing.’ Abigail replied as she continued to stare.
Tam laughed self-consciously. ‘What is it?’
‘You’re different to how I thought you’d be.’
‘I am? How?’
Abigail finally looked down.
‘You shouldn’t believe everything they say about me,’ Tam said defensively, ‘especially James Pinchin.’
Abigail’s lips tightened over her teeth, forming a polite smile.
‘He’s all talk, you know?’ Tam said. ‘He’s slept with every girl in school, if you believe what he says. We went out for a few weeks, we messed around a bit, that’s all, nothing more.’ She waited for a response. ‘Look, I don’t have to justify myself to you.’
‘I know you don’t. I believe you.’
‘Good. He’s an arsehole.’ Tam pulled out her phone, flicking through her messages. ‘Look, this is what he sent me.’
Tam passed the phone to
Abigail, watching her cringe as she looked at the photo.
‘Oh God, is that his—’
‘Yeah! He sent that to me after we broke up. He thinks that’s going to make me want to go back out with him.’
Abigail read the message under the picture. ‘Jesus, the things he said to you, he’s disgusting.’
‘Like I said: arsehole.’
Abigail shuddered, throwing the phone back to Tam as if it was infected.
‘So don’t believe anything he says,’ Tam warned.
‘Don’t worry, I won’t,’ Abigail replied. ‘You should do something.’
‘Do something?’
‘About James. About how he talks to you. Get him back for the things he’s said about you.’
Tam’s eyes narrowed. ‘Maybe I could carry him up into the air and let him fall.’
Abigail stared at her in shock.
‘I’m kidding, Abigail, obviously.’
Relieved, Abigail let out a sigh. ‘You let him get away with stuff like that and you’re giving him power.’
‘What?’
‘You’re giving him power. You’re feeding him.’
‘Bullshit!’
‘You’re feeding his ego. You should stand up to him.’
‘How?’
‘Don’t give him power.’
Tam sighed. ‘Easier said than done.’
Abigail smiled affectionately. ‘Boys like him, they’re all about the ego. He’d hate to be embarrassed in front of his mates.’
Tam raised her eyebrows. ‘You’ve had a few boyfriends then?’
Abigail shook her head. ‘I read.’
Tam stared at her until Abigail let out a deep laugh. Tam laughed back, feeling the warmth of friendship growing between them. She felt safe here, just the two of them, a circle of trust and honesty. This was different to the way it was with Becca or any of her other friends. There was no competition with Abigail, no manipulation, just friendship. Why had she not been friends with Abigail sooner? That feeling of loss tinged her happiness.
Then she thought of Becca. Being here, ignoring her constant texts, it was a betrayal of their long friendship. Tam looked up at Abigail and realized she didn’t deserve this new bond. They were different people; they shouldn’t be spending time together. Tam’s smile faded away as guilt infected her.
‘What’s wrong?’ Abigail asked, noticing the change in Tam’s mood.
‘Nothing, just tired.’
‘Oh, right . . .’
Tam glanced at her surroundings, the oversized room, the double bed, and she felt like an impostor. She shouldn’t be here.
‘Abigail . . .’ Tam began. ‘I’m not going to fly any more.’
Abigail looked up, her eyes wide. ‘What?’
‘I’m not going back. It’s too dangerous and I’ve got exams coming up.’
‘But—’
Tam’s voice grew in strength. ‘I’m not, Abigail. I mean it, I’m not flying again.’
‘No, you can’t just stop,’ Abigail pleaded, her eyes filling with tears. This meant more to her than Tam had realized.
‘I’m sorry,’ Tam replied, softening her voice. ‘I just can’t. There’s too much going on right now.’
‘There is only right now!’ Abigail said angrily. ‘Right now is all you’ve got. You put this off, you leave it till later, who knows if you can still do it? Maybe . . . maybe this is happening now for a reason.’
‘That’s bullshit,’ Tam scoffed, dismissing Abigail without a thought.
Abigail stood, tensing her face, holding her emotions in check. ‘Fine,’ she said. ‘Do what you like. You always do.’
She left Tam alone and retreated to her own room. Tam didn’t follow; she didn’t have the strength to fight. She withdrew under the quilt and exhaustion dragged her to sleep within minutes.
Abigail’s mum did her best to feed Tam breakfast, offering her eggs, bacon, cereals, toast, anything. She was being smothered by her hospitality. But Tam wasn’t hungry. All she wanted was to leave, to get back to where she belonged. But she didn’t belong anywhere, not really. Home was a place of fear and tension. She felt adrift and out-of-place no matter where she was.
Abigail came into the kitchen, barely acknowledging Tam.
‘Hi,’ Tam said, trying to bury last night’s conversation. After a moment’s silence, she added, ‘I’m going to be heading home soon.’
Abigail nodded without speaking.
‘I thought maybe we could talk later?’
‘I’m busy today,’ Abigail said, her eyes looking down.
‘Right,’ Tam said slowly. ‘Well, I should probably get going.’
‘Yes.’
Tam left as soon as she could, deflecting the friendly protests of Abigail’s mum to stay longer.
She walked home through the wood, stopping at its heart to take in the sounds and scents, realizing that this was where she felt most at ease now. Not at home, not at school, not at Abigail’s. Everywhere was tainted with unease. Everywhere except the wood.
Tam allowed herself a moment of contemplation, resisting the urge to try to fly, before continuing on her way home. As she broke through the edge of the wood she felt like she was saying goodbye.
The houses of her street grew in detail and her stomach churned. The wood, her friendship with Abigail, it all seemed like an indulgence. Her family needed her. She had to focus on her exams. And she had a friend in Becca. Flying in the wood was stupid and dangerous. She took out her phone and replied to Becca’s last message.
Meet me, Tam wrote.
She put the phone away and inhaled. ‘That was the last time,’ she said to herself as she approached her house. ‘No more. I’m not going back. I’m not going back.’
As her front door came into view she saw a familiar figure sat on the wall outside. Tam grinned at Becca, knowing she’d made the right decision.
SIXTEEN
Tam sat in the exam hall, staring out of the window at the clouds drifting through the azure sky. She was lost in their shifting forms, her mind floating with them.
She took a breath and looked back at the English paper she’d only half completed on the table in front of her. She could write more but she just didn’t have the urge to. Exams seemed insignificant now. She had been going through the motions the last few weeks, turning up, filling in what she could, then going home again. She didn’t revise, she didn’t worry, she didn’t care.
Tam, up to a few weeks ago, had been on target for a handful of Bs and Cs, maybe even an A if she really put in the effort. Now? She knew she’d crashed and burned and it didn’t seem to matter any more.
English was her last exam, and after today she’d be free for the entire summer, at least until her results came out and reality came back to bite her. Until then. She couldn’t think any further ahead than that. Right now the only thing that mattered was getting out of this shitty school and never coming back.
She glanced over to Abigail sitting at the opposite end of the hall. Her head was down, her pen jittering across the page like it was possessed. Guilt festered in Tam’s throat; she hadn’t spoken to Abigail since the night she’d stayed at her house. Tam had kept her promise to herself and stayed away from the wood as well. Now, with the clarity of a few weeks’ distance, she wasn’t entirely sure why. It was all she’d thought about since then. And the dreams! Every night she dreamed of flying, chasing the other figure in the clouds, never getting close enough to see it properly.
Beside her Becca coughed. Tam glanced over and smiled. Becca scowled at the paper then dropped her pen on the table with an overworked sigh, declaring her work done.
Tam turned back to the window, staring up at the wispy shapes drifting overhead. She tried to think about anything but flying. Anything. Time and again her eyes shifted back towards Abigail, only to look away again like she was a forbidden thing.
The bell rang and the teacher began to collect the papers in.
‘Did you write much?’ Becca asked,
continuing without waiting for a reply. ‘I didn’t. That was a tough one. I think I’ve probably failed. Do you? Why do they make them so hard? They want us to do well, don’t they? Anyway, it’s not like anyone needs English, is it?’
Tam was only half listening, still staring at Abigail.
‘You fancy chips? Or we could go into town, look round the shops then go over to Coffee Coffee. What do you think?’ Becca stepped in front of Tam, breaking her line of sight.
‘What?’ Tam asked.
Becca frowned. ‘What’s up with you? You’ve not been right this last couple of weeks. The exams are over, we’re freeeeeeee! Let’s go do something.’
‘No, I’m tired. I’m gonna head home.’
Becca put her hands on her hips. ‘Oh, no you don’t. There’s no more revision now. C’mon.’ She pulled Tam out of her seat and dragged her towards the door.
‘Just give me a second,’ Tam said, freeing herself from Becca’s arm. It was an impulse that made her walk towards Abigail, barely knowing why. She looked down, watching her feet take her forwards, leaving Becca moaning to herself at the exit.
‘Hi,’ Tam said as she approached Abigail’s desk.
Abigail was collecting her things and putting them in her bag. She glanced up, spying Tam, then looked down again.
‘How did you do? You looked like you wrote a lot,’ Tam said quietly.
Abigail closed her bag and held it to her chest, staring defiantly at Tam. Her cheek was red, the remnants of a bruise hidden by makeup.
‘Are you OK?’
Abigail didn’t reply.
Tam flustered. ‘Maybe . . . do you fancy meeting up now the exams are—’
‘Are there two of you?’ Abigail interrupted.
‘W-what?’
‘Two of you? One that talks to me and one that doesn’t? One that likes me and—’
Tam puffed out her cheeks. ‘No, of course not.’
‘So you just figure you can be OK to me one day, then really crappy the next?’
‘I . . . look, I don’t mean to . . .’
‘But you do.’ There was hurt in Abigail’s wide eyes. She pushed past Tam and marched out of the hall.
Tam watched her leave, then slowly walked towards the exit.
Becca waited for her to approach, her face betraying her own confusion. As Tam got closer, she straightened, forcing a smile. ‘So, chips or town?’
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