‘Chips,’ Tam said, smiling back. ‘But I can’t stay too long.’
‘Why not?’
Tam hesitated. She still hadn’t been able to tell her friend about Dad. She opened her mouth, wanting to confide in her, but something held her back. ‘Family stuff,’ she said, rolling her eyes.
‘Please yourself,’ Becca huffed, folding her arms as she walked ahead of Tam.
‘What’s wrong?’
Becca found her phone and buried her eyes in its screen. ‘Doesn’t matter.’
Tam hid in her thoughts, uncertain what to say.
Almost immediately Becca blurted out, ‘You don’t tell me anything any more. You don’t get back to me when I text you, nothing.’
‘That’s not true.’
‘And you’re talking to Long Bone now instead!’ Becca stopped abruptly and faced Tam. ‘There’s stuff going on, I know it, it’s obvious, and you’re not telling me, are you?’
‘Do you . . . do you ever have dreams?’ Tam asked hesitantly.
‘What?’ Becca reddened.
‘I’ve been having dreams . . . about flying . . .’
‘Flying?’
‘Yeah, like Superman.’
Becca glared at Tam.
‘Well,’ Tam continued, testing the water, ‘I’ve been having these weird dreams and they’re . . . I don’t know, they’re just so vivid. Do you know what I mean?’ Tam stared hopefully, wanting Becca’s understanding, wanting her support. This secret had become a burden.
‘No,’ Becca replied flatly. ‘But she does, I suppose? Long Bone knows all about it, does she?’
Tam flushed. ‘Look, it’s complicated—’
‘I knew it! I bloody knew it.’ Becca stormed out of the school. She marched along the path, glancing over her shoulder to see if Tam was following.
Tam stood in the entrance, fixed to the spot by uncertainty and indecision as the other pupils passed her by. She was aware of someone watching her; further along the path James Pinchin was laughing with a group of his friends. They glanced at her then exchanged muted conversations, grinning to each other.
‘Piss off,’ Tam muttered under her breath. She turned her back on James and the stupid school and marched home.
As she walked through the door she could hear Dad coughing. It wasn’t like his normal cough. This was hollow and weak. Tam went to the kitchen and poured him a glass of water. She found him on the sofa in the living room and handed him the drink.
‘Thanks,’ Dad said, wiping his chin and placing the glass on the carpet. ‘How was the exam?’
Tam shrugged. ‘Fine. Mum in?’
‘Not yet.’
She looked down at her dad. He’d lost weight. His cheeks were sunken, his eyes bloodshot and weary, and his thick dark hair had started to disappear, revealing patches of grey skin beneath. Tam found it hard to look at him. It was as if he was an old man, not the dad she knew.
She picked up the glass and returned it to the kitchen. ‘You need anything?’ she asked, leaning back round the door.
Dad shook his head and smiled. Tam tried to smile back but it was a forced unnatural expression. She retreated to her room and, in the sanctuary of her bed, she sobbed.
SEVENTEEN
Abigail’s new bedroom was tiny, full of boxes and a broken exercise bike. The bed was smaller than her own and it squeaked and groaned whenever she turned over. The road outside was much busier than she was used to; even in the small hours the thunder of traffic seemed never-ending. This room was, in almost every way, inferior to her old room, but she couldn’t help but love it.
She lay in bed, listening to the voices downstairs. Instead of tension and shouting all she heard now was laughter – her mum’s and Aunty Cath’s, talking way past midnight over a bottle of wine.
This was their third night here, after everything had exploded. They’d finally left and this time it felt final. But for Abigail relief was tinged with sadness. Her family had broken up. Her dad didn’t live with them any more. Her parents were getting divorced (unless her mum got cold feet again) and her dad would probably have a criminal record. This new life wasn’t perfect – it was built on the ruins of the old – but for the first time in ages she sensed the flickering spark of hope in her future.
Things would get better, she promised herself. Yes, there would be tears and setbacks, but things would get better.
Abigail turned over and stared at the ceiling, waiting for the creaking springs to stop singing. She was content here, but . . .
Tam.
She missed Tamsin Edwards. She’d finally found a friend she could open up to. But she’d gone, disappeared from her life almost as soon as she’d arrived. And now she missed her and she hated herself for feeling like this. Tam had bullied her on and off for most of her school life. Why the hell should Abigail care about her now? But she couldn’t help herself. And that’s why today had hurt her so much. She’d heard nothing from Tam for weeks until this afternoon after the exam.
It made her angry and confused and optimistic and excited. Christ, why wasn’t anything ever simple?
Her phone buzzed.
She looked at the glowing screen and couldn’t help but smile.
EIGHTEEN
Tam leaned against a tree by the edge of the wood, feeling self-conscious and stupid. Thinking about it she realized that’s how she felt most of the time. Hadn’t Abigail said something similar to her? Maybe they were more similar than she realized.
The last time she had been here the wood had felt like a sanctuary, somewhere free of judgement. But not today. Today, standing here, she felt exposed and vulnerable.
Maybe it was because she hadn’t been here for weeks. Exams, Dad’s treatment, her own denial – it had all conspired to keep her away from the wood. But now school was over and, as she’d finally persuaded Abigail to talk to her again, it seemed right to return here. Last night she’d lain in bed, excited at the thought of coming to the wood, of meeting with her again. But the hard light of morning had brought with it doubts that had festered as the hours passed.
Tam waited, feeling stupid, wondering where Abigail was. She checked the time again, knowing she was already twenty minutes late. Maybe she wasn’t coming? Perhaps her texts had been some sort of revenge, some way of making Tam look stupid? But that didn’t feel like Abigail’s style. Doubt grew again and Tam thought about leaving. But she knew she couldn’t, not yet.
She put her phone away and paced up and down the track, trying to remain calm. After a moment she heard a noise behind her and, with a smile of relief, she turned to face the disturbance.
On the hard path, half hidden by the overgrown bushes, was a fox. Its long snout was raised into the air, taking in the scents of the wood. Tam froze; it hadn’t seen her. She stared at its beautiful form, its red and white coat catching the sunshine. The fox lowered its head, turning in Tam’s direction. Its eyes locked with hers, but it didn’t run away, it just watched her; two wood dwellers acknowledging each other. In that instant Tam’s anxiety evaporated and she felt as if she belonged here after all.
The fox turned to look up the path, and in a blur of crimson disappeared into the undergrowth. As it went Tam’s momentary contentment vanished as well.
There was someone coming along the path, disturbing the undergrowth. The noise of their approach seemed abnormally loud in the stillness. Tam thought perhaps she should hide like the fox, retreat into the wood, but before she could move she saw Abigail appear.
‘You’re late,’ Tam said, trying to make it sound jovial.
Abigail stopped, staring at her. ‘I can go if you like?’
‘No, no,’ Tam said more softly. ‘Sorry.’
Abigail hesitated, as if she was having second thoughts about this. She wore a pair of jeans and a hoody, nothing with labels, nothing flashy, but the look suited her.
‘Did you see the fox?’ Tam asked, forcing enthusiasm into her words.
‘No.’
‘Just now, on
the track. It was where you’re standing.’
Abigail didn’t respond.
‘It just looked at me then disappeared.’
Nothing. Abigail folded her arms.
Tam tried again. ‘Thanks for coming. How have you been?’
Abigail shrugged but she took a step closer.
‘Exams go OK?’
‘I suppose so. You?’
‘Crashed and burned, I think. Parents aren’t gonna be happy when the results come out.’
Abigail stopped a few metres away from her. ‘What do you want, Tam?’
‘I . . .’ She didn’t know. The realization terrified her.
Abigail shook her head and turned away. ‘When you can be honest with yourself then maybe call me.’
Tam watched her recede down the path, passing behind the trees and shrubs until she was almost hidden from view.
‘A friend,’ Tam shouted. ‘I need a friend.’
Abigail stopped and turned back towards her. ‘You have a friend.’
‘Becca doesn’t get me.’
‘Neither do I.’ Again, she turned to leave.
‘Please, Abigail. I need you.’
‘Why?’
‘Because . . . I dunno, it’s just different with you. Don’t make me say it out loud.’
Abigail shook her head. ‘No, you’ll have to tell me.’
Tam looked away, trying to focus on her thoughts. It was so hard to say what she felt. ‘Look, you’re the only one I can talk to and be honest with. There’s no bullshit with you. I’m not worried about what you might think or who you’ll tell. You’re not trying to do me over, you’re just . . . you. And this place, Christ, this horrible, damp stinking place! It’s the only place I feel myself, here with you. When we’re here, together in the wood, it’s like there’s no lies, there’s no bullshit, no dishonesty. And . . . and I trust you, Abigail, OK? And I’m sorry for how I’ve treated you. I know I’ve been crap to you and I’m sorry.’ Tam was breathless. ‘There, I’ve said it. All right?’
Abigail nodded. ‘OK.’ She walked back towards Tam and pushed past her, leading the way deeper into the wood.
‘Where are you going?’ Tam asked.
‘To the bridge. C’mon.’
Tam caught up with her, following behind obediently. ‘What are we gonna do there?’
‘Nothing,’ Abigail said with a grin. ‘How’s your dad?’
The question was like a punch to the stomach. Tam took a moment to collect herself. ‘Not great. The treatment makes him pretty bad. Everyone says it’ll get worse before it’ll get better, but—’
Abigail stopped and faced her. ‘But you don’t think it will get better?’
Tam lowered her eyes. She felt a traitor even thinking it. ‘He’ll be fine.’
‘You said there were no lies here. No bullshit.’
No bullshit. OK.
‘He’s so thin and pale. He hardly looks like my dad any more.’ Tam covered her mouth with her hands, shocked at her admission.
‘It’s OK to be scared.’
Tam’s emotions overwhelmed her. She fought to suppress them, embarrassed, but then she noticed Abigail had turned away, giving her space. She let her tears out, taking her time.
She found Abigail at the bridge, lying on her back looking up at the light breaking through the trees. Tam joined her, lying down with her head next to Abigail’s feet.
‘What are we looking at?’ she asked.
‘Nothing, just the trees.’
‘Why?’
‘Why not?’
The wind pulled at the uppermost branches. Tam watched them dance and sway, breaking the sky with their changing outlines.
‘Have you flown any more?’ Abigail asked.
‘No.’ The memory of that last flight still haunted Tam.
Abigail raised herself up on her elbows and looked at her. ‘Why not? Can you still do it?’
‘I don’t know. Seems stupid now.’
‘It’s not stupid. It’s . . . it’s beautiful.’ Abigail blushed. ‘Well, I mean it’s amazing, isn’t it?’ She lay down again, her face hidden from view.
‘It’s terrifying,’ Tam whispered.
‘That’s only cos you’ve not done it much. Like swimming for the first time without armbands. I wish I could do it,’ Abigail said. ‘To go up there, to float about like a . . . like a . . .’
‘Bird?’
‘I was going to say God.’
Tam laughed. ‘I’m not like a god.’
‘But you’re not like a bird either. You’re not flapping about, are you? You’re gliding and floating. It looks so effortless.’
‘Believe me, it’s not effortless. I could have killed myself last time. It’s really hard.’
‘I wonder why? You’re obviously not keeping yourself up using the air, like a bird or a plane. It’s more like you’re using your mind . . . you’re willing yourself to stay up.’
Tam thought for a moment. ‘It’s a bit like that. But it’s like running. You don’t think about how to run, you just—’
‘Run,’ Abigail said, excited.
‘Exactly! It’s like I already know how to do it. I just do it. I can’t explain it. But it’s really tiring. Every time I’ve done it I’ve ached all over the next day. It’s worse than cross-country.’
‘Superman never aches, does he?’
Tam sat up. ‘What?’
‘Superman.’ Abigail propped herself up on an elbow. ‘He just flies. It doesn’t look like he gets achy or tired from flying.’
‘Superman? You keep going on about him. I’m not Superman.’
‘Well, maybe not, but you don’t fly like a bird, or a plane, do you? You are more like a superhero.’
Tam laughed. ‘Superheroes are crap.’
‘OK,’ Abigail frowned. ‘But it’s the closest thing to you, isn’t it?’
‘No,’ Tam said defensively. ‘Superheroes don’t almost fall out of the sky, or land badly and hurt themselves, or fail exams.’
‘Maybe they do, some of them, when they’re first learning. I think you’re a sort of superhero, Tam. How else do you explain how you can do it?’
‘I can’t.’
‘So you’re not from another planet? Or been part of a science experiment? Or a robot?’
‘Yeah,’ Tam laughed sarcastically. ‘I’m an evil super-robot from the future. You watch too much Netflix, A.’
‘You’re calling me A now?’
‘Abigail is too long.’
‘It’s my name, T.’
They laughed as they lay back to watch the branches and the sky. The sun was high overhead and the wood was dense with heat. Tam closed her eyes, feeling content, listening to the trees. The little stream trickled tunefully beneath them, its force diminished since their last visit. The gentle tune of the wood comforted her in its endless embrace. It was good to be back here.
‘We should test you properly,’ Abigail said eventually.
Tam groaned. ‘You’re obsessed with testing me. I’ve done enough tests this summer.’
‘But don’t you want to know what you can do? How far you can fly?’
‘I hadn’t thought about it.’
‘Yes you have. That’s why you wanted me to come here, so you can talk about it.’
‘OK, maybe a bit,’ Tam conceded. ‘What about you?’
Abigail hesitated. ‘W-what about me?’
‘Why did you come here?’
‘Because you needed me.’ Her voice faltered, then she added, ‘And I needed to come here as well.’
‘Things OK?’
‘They’ve been worse.’
Tam waited, wondering if Abigail might say more. Above, a bird called out, and from further in the wood another responded.
‘Me and Mum,’ Abigail continued in a reverent tone, ‘we’ve moved out.’
‘Wow, really?’
Abigail nodded. ‘Dad had one of his red mist moments. It all got a bit messy. The police came.’
&nbs
p; ‘You must have been so scared!’
Abigail tried to dismiss Tam’s suggestion with a wave of her arm but the damage was clear to see. ‘We’re staying at my aunt’s place for now. It’s pretty good.’
‘Jesus. Is your mum OK?’
‘She will be.’ Abigail smiled with relief, as if a burden had been lifted from her shoulders.
Something moved in the thick bushes, shaking the leaves, and Tam wondered if it was her fox again.
‘So,’ Abigail said, sitting up. ‘We should test you. See what you’re really capable of.’
‘I don’t need testing,’ Tam moaned. ‘Can’t we just, you know, enjoy it?’
‘We can do both.’
‘Really?’
‘Yes.’
Tam watched the bushes for movement. Whatever had been there was gone now. ‘OK,’ she said lazily. ‘But not today. Today’s too nice.’
‘Tomorrow, then?’
‘Tomorrow,’ Tam agreed. She closed her eyes again, letting the sounds of the wood cleanse her.
NINETEEN
As Tam left the wood she felt a sense of contentment she hadn’t felt in ages. She knew her problems were waiting for her just up the road but she had the strength to face them now. Was it the wood? No, she concluded; it was more than that. It was her growing friendship with Abigail that was the key, unlocking her confidence, allowing her to be who she really was.
She smiled to herself, lost in her thoughts, as she ambled along the track and joined the cement and tarmac of the estate.
‘Hey,’ a voice called to her.
Tam looked up and her stomach tensed. Ahead was James Pinchin with two of his friends. Tam stopped, tempted to turn round and avoid him. But there was nowhere to go.
‘What’re you up to?’ James asked, his puzzling smirk fixed in place.
‘Going home,’ Tam said as she tried to push past him. She felt James’s hand grab at her arm, stopping her.
‘No rush,’ he laughed. His friends sneered and chuckled.
‘Get off me,’ Tam said, her voice full of steel.
James pulled her closer. ‘What’s the matter, Tam, you don’t want to have some fun?’
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