Little Woodford

by Catherine Jones

  His phone rang. Mum. He killed the call and switched his phone off. He couldn’t talk to her, not right now. He was too ashamed of what he’d done. Megan was right; he had to sort himself out but he didn’t have a clue how. Maybe there was something on Google.

  He switched his phone on again. The green light telling him had a voicemail flashed. He hit the icon and listened to the message.

  ‘Zac, we need to talk. I want to help you. I know I was cross – it was the shock. Please come home. I know I said some harsh things but I didn’t mean them. I do mean this, though... I love you, Zac.’

  Zac burst into tears.

  *

  Olivia was sitting on the sofa, oblivious to the late evening May sunshine streaming through the big windows of her house. Where had she gone wrong? she wondered. How had she missed the signs? What was the way forward? Round and round went the questions in the head. Along with the big question – did she tell Nigel? She knew she ought to but he’d get so angry, he would shout at Zac so much that there was every danger Zac might light out and do something totally stupid. She had to keep Zac onside; if she could keep him close then maybe she could help him turn things round. Rows and recriminations weren’t the way forwards.

  Feeling bone-weary with worry, Olivia got to her feet and went over to the computer on the desk in the corner. She switched it on, then went to pour a glass of wine while it sorted itself out. She entered the password then clicked the Google icon. How do you get off drugs? she typed. A surprising number of sites scrolled onto the screen. Methodically she clicked on each one and began to read what was said.

  She was alerted to Nigel’s arrival home by his key in the lock. Guiltily she killed the page and shut down Google.

  ‘Hello, how was your day?’ she asked with a fake smile on her face.

  ‘Knackering,’ said Nigel. ‘The commute was a nightmare and the boss wanted six impossible things done by lunch.’ He dropped his laptop case on to the sofa. ‘Good, you’ve got the wine open. Pour me a glass while I get changed. Did you have a good day?’ he asked as he headed for the stairs.

  ‘Oh – you know – the usual.’

  She switched off the computer and went into the kitchen to sort out Nigel’s wine and supper for everyone, although she wasn’t the least bit sure if Zac was going to come home to eat it. And if he didn’t, when did she tell Nigel the whole truth? Or call the police for that matter?

  She was about to dish up a paella when Zac slunk in through the front door, still in his school uniform. Their eyes met and she gave him a half-smile. In return he looked totally shamefaced.

  ‘Hurry up and change, darling,’ she said breezily.

  Zac flicked a glance at his father, lounging on the sofa, sipping his wine and watching some programme about buying houses and then looked questioningly at his mother. She gave him a tiny shake of his head and was rewarded with a look of sheer gratitude.

  The meal was eaten in near silence and afterwards Zac shot back upstairs, muttering about his homework. Olivia cleared away, topped up her husband’s glass and then followed her son.

  She knocked on the door, surprised that she couldn’t hear any music.

  ‘We need to talk,’ she said quietly when it was opened.

  Zac nodded.

  Oliva shut the door behind herself. ‘So?’ she said.

  Zac sat on the bed and put his head in his hands.

  ‘Zac, this is a mess, isn’t it?’

  He looked up at her and nodded.

  ‘I’ve been doing some reading up,’ said Olivia. ‘We can sort this out but you’ve got to want to.’

  Zac nodded again.

  ‘Do you?’

  ‘Yeah. I’m so fucked up, I’ve got to.’

  Olivia sat next to her son and put her arms around him. ‘We can do this, we can do this together. It’s not the end of the world but you have to promise me that you’ll give it your best shot. And I have a plan.’

  42

  May drifted into June and all the kids in town were off for the half-term holiday, although for Megan, Ashley, Zac and other kids their age they might not have school but it didn’t mean they escaped schoolwork. They knew that on their return to their classes the next week they’d be faced, almost immediately, with tests and exams so their respective schools would be able to gauge their likely performance in their GCSEs that they’d be facing the next year.

  It didn’t help matters that the weather was glorious, so the incentive to stay at home swotting was non-existent and Megan found her little half-brothers very useful in providing an excuse to go to the play park at least once a day.

  Besides, she told herself, all work and no play...

  She glanced at her phone to check the time – half eleven – stacked her books up on her desk, grabbed her mobile and stuffed it in the back pocket of her shorts and trotted down the stairs. As she reached the ground floor she could hear voices coming from the kitchen. Out of curiosity she headed across the hall to see who their visitor was. Miles – what did he want?

  ‘Oh, hello, Megan,’ said Bex. ‘Miles has come round to see if Alfie has been successfully caged.’

  ‘OK,’ responded Megan, although she couldn’t think why Miles should be that interested.

  ‘Did you want something?’ said Bex.

  ‘I came to see if the boys wanted to go to the park – or the nature reserve. I’m fed up with revising and the weather is so nice.’

  ‘That’s a lovely idea. Tell you what, why don’t I make up some sandwiches and you could have a picnic out.’

  ‘Yeah, why not.’

  ‘And I’ve got some cold sausages in the fridge. Give me five minutes and I’ll make you a proper feast.’

  ‘Cool,’ said Megan.

  ‘I’ll give you a hand,’ said Miles.

  Megan poured herself a glass of water and sat on a chair while she watched the pair work. Her dad, she remembered, had always been pretty hopeless in the kitchen. Beans on toast was about the limit of his skills. He’d been brilliant in other ways; she remembered how he’d taught her to swim and ride a bike, how they’d gone kite-flying on the beach one summer holiday and how he’d made her a go-kart. But cooking? Nah.

  Miles got one of Bex’s big knives and expertly shredded some cabbage, celery and carrot. The blade flashed through the vegetables.

  ‘You’ll have to teach me how to do that one day,’ said Bex, smiling at him.

  ‘I’d be delighted to,’ responded Miles. ‘It’s a useful skill to have. In fact, there’s no time like the present.’

  ‘Let’s finish making the picnic first, hey, so the kids can get off out and enjoy the sunshine. You can give me a lesson when we’re on our own.’

  ‘I’d love to.’

  Did Megan imagine it or was there something going on between them? No, she’d imagined it, she told herself. Miles was just being friendly. ‘I’ll go and tell the boys we’re going out, shall I?’

  ‘Please,’ said Bex, busy buttering bread and slapping some tinned tuna onto the slices.

  Megan wandered out into the garden and found the boys in the sandpit making sandcastles.

  ‘We’re off out for a picnic lunch,’ she told them. ‘Mummy’s making sandwiches right now.’

  ‘Can we go and see the diggers?’

  Lewis rolled his eyes and scowled.

  ‘I thought we’d go to the nature reserve and see how many bugs we can find.’

  Alfie’s face crumpled.

  ‘But we can see the diggers on the way home,’ she added, trying to avoid a meltdown.

  ‘Must we?’ whined Lewis.

  ‘And we can go to the swings if you like.’

  Lewis continued to look grumpy.

  ‘We won’t spend that long at the building site, promise. And perhaps I’ll ask Mummy for some money for ice lollies.’

  That clinched it; smiles broke out on both the boys’ faces.

  Bex came to the back door holding a bottle of suntan lotion. ‘Slather the boys in th
is, would you?’

  ‘Of course.’

  Bex threw the bottle gently in her direction and Megan caught it. ‘Tops off, lads,’ she ordered.

  By the time she’d got her half-brothers and herself protected against the summer sun, Bex had returned with a backpack filled with goodies.

  ‘How long are you planning to stay out?’ she asked.

  ‘An hour or so – I dunno, really.’

  ‘Make sure you’ve got your phone in case of an emergency or anything.’

  Megan patted the back pocket of her cut-offs.

  ‘Good, have a nice time, and boys, you’re to do as your sister says, understand?’

  Lewis and Alfie nodded.

  ‘Let’s go,’ said Megan, hefting the rucksack onto her shoulders. ‘Oh... I sort of promised the boys a lolly.’ She looked hopefully at Bex.

  ‘Of course.’ Bex dived back into the house and re-emerged with a ten pound note. Megan stuffed it into her other pocket then led the way out of the garden and along the road, Alfie’s slightly sweaty hand held tightly in hers.

  It didn’t take long to reach the lane that led to the reserve and with an exhortation not to go too far, Megan told the boys they could run on ahead. It was, she thought, like letting dogs off the lead. The lads scampered off and then dived into the long grass in the big meadow causing an air-burst of butterflies to fly upwards. Megan followed more sedately feeling slightly wilted in the summer heat.

  She kept track of the boys more by sound than sight as she walked along the footpath towards the stream. Every now and again they bounded out of the grass to check where she was before diving back in again. She found a place on the bank in the shade of a willow and near the bridge which she decided was perfect for their picnic. She dropped the rucksack off her shoulders and pulled her T-shirt, damp with perspiration, away from her back then headed off to tell the boys where to find her.

  When she got back to her chosen spot there was a border collie sniffing at the rucksack and pawing it.

  ‘Oi, shoo,’ she yelled at it.

  ‘Oscar’s not doing any harm.’

  The voice was familiar. Megan spun round. ‘Oh, it’s you.’ She was still mad at him for fighting Ashley and lying about dealing with his drug problem. He didn’t look that well; his skin was pasty and he had spots. Well, that’s what you got for being a junkie, she supposed. ‘What do you want?’

  ‘Nothing, I’m out for a walk with Oscar.’

  ‘I didn’t know you had a dog.’

  ‘No, he’s new. He’s a rescue dog.’ Zac called the collie to come to him and the dog trotted over. Zac slipped the lead he was carrying onto his collar.

  ‘Cool.’

  ‘Mum got him for me.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘You were right, Megan. I was a stupid twat and I needed to sort myself out.’

  ‘And are you?’ She wasn’t sure she believed him – not judging by the way he looked.

  Zac nodded. ‘That why I’ve got Oscar. Mum read that people coming off drugs need something else to do. So she thought a dog might help me.’

  ‘Does it?’

  ‘A bit. It’s still shit though and I feel like crap some of the time, really lousy. Honestly, I’ve never felt this bad.’

  That explained the way he looked. Megan was almost inclined to feel sorry for him. Almost.

  ‘But looking after Oscar,’ said Zac, ‘means I’m not thinking about myself all the time. And walking him is an excuse to break away from my old habits.’

  ‘Is that why you haven’t been to the skatepark?’

  Zac stared at his feet. ‘Dogs aren’t allowed there. And I don’t want to see my dealer either.’

  ‘I can imagine,’ said Megan. ‘You ought to talk to Ash and apologise to him, though. It wasn’t him who told your mum.’

  ‘Really?’

  ‘No, he told me his mum found some stuff in your room when she cleaned it.’

  ‘OK, so I was out of order blaming Ash.’

  ‘You were out of order trying to punch the living daylights out of him. You were out of order doing drugs.’

  Zac nodded and sighed. ‘Look, I’ve said you were right so there’s no need to bang on about it.’

  Megan eyeballed him. ‘As long as you owe me money I’ve got every right.’

  ‘Be like that then. I’ve got enough shit going on without people like you adding to it.’

  ‘Piss off, Zac, and stop feeling sorry for yourself. All of this is your own fault.’

  ‘Come on, Oscar,’ said Zac. He tugged at the lead and stormed off.

  ‘Be like that then,’ Megan shouted after him.

  The boys came bounding out of the grass, pink and glistening with perspiration.

  ‘Is it lunchtime yet, Megs, we’re starving,’ said Lewis.

  She knelt down by the bag and unzipped it, before handing out fat sandwiches to her half-brothers.

  ‘Who was that?’ asked Lewis.

  ‘No one,’ said Megan. ‘A nobody.’

  The boys, clutching their food, ran back into the long grass and left Megan staring after the fast disappearing figure, wondering if she ought to have been less harsh. She knew what it was like to feel friendless and alone with others ganging up on her and now she was doing it to Zac. Maybe, next time she saw him, she’d try and be more sympathetic. But only if he was still clean.

  *

  ‘Oughtn’t you be getting back to the pub?’ said Bex after Megan had left. And she was a tad concerned at the way he’d found an excuse to visit her and then had found an excuse to stay longer. For some reason, she felt less than comfortable in his presence.

  ‘I thought you wanted me to teach you some knife skills.’

  ‘Not if that means Belinda blaming me for you being late.’ Or blaming her for Miles paying her more attention than she felt he ought.

  ‘Jamie can cope for a minute or two. All the prep’s been done and it’s quite early for punters to want lunch.’

  ‘Really?’ said Bex. ‘You seem to forget that I work there too and I’ve taken orders for food this early.’

  ‘Do you want to get rid of me?’

  ‘I’ve got things I ought to be getting on with,’ she lied.

  ‘More baking?’

  She nodded.

  ‘Another time, then,’ said Miles. ‘Maybe when you’re back at work, next week, if we have a quiet lunchtime.’

  ‘Maybe.’ Or maybe not.

  ‘As you’re obviously busy, I’ll be off.’ His voice sounded chilly. Maybe he hadn’t liked being rebuffed like that.

  ‘Bye then,’ said Bex.

  Miles walked out of the kitchen and she heard the front door shut. She sagged onto a chair. It was for the best.

  43

  ‘Fancy a drink tonight?’ said Billy as he let himself into Amy’s little house. He walked into the kitchen and put his arms round her waist before he gave her a peck on the cheek. Ashley, who was helping himself out of the biscuit tin, scowled. ‘It’s Friday, after all. I’ve been paid and I feel like a night out.’

  ‘Yeah, that sound like a plan,’ said Amy. ‘You’ll be all right on your own, won’t you, Ash?’

  ‘I’m almost sixteen, Mum.’

  ‘Almost old enough to leave home,’ said Billy. ‘Or get a job.’

  Ashley stared at Billy. ‘That’s what you want, is it?’

  ‘Just saying,’ said Billy. ‘It’s what I did. I was earning a decent wage when I wasn’t much older than you.’

  ‘Bully for you.’

  Amy glanced from one to the other. ‘Now then, lads, if I’m going to get out I need to get supper on the table.’

  ‘Don’t bother for me. I’m going out,’ said Ashley.

  ‘But Ash...’

  Too late, he’d stormed off and the front door slammed by way of an answer.

  Amy turned on Billy. ‘Now look what you’ve done.’

  ‘If he were mine I’d give him a bloody good hiding for cheeking me like that.’


  ‘It wasn’t really cheek.’

  ‘He should respect his elders and betters, if you ask me.’

  ‘But he does; Ash is a good kid.’

  ‘If that’s what you want to think. You’re too soft on him.’

  Amy was about to ask Billy what business was it of his, but she didn’t feel quite brave enough. ‘Let’s not argue, Billy. Tell you what, there’s some beers in the fridge. Why don’t you have one while you wait for your dinner.’

  ‘What is it?’

  ‘Macaroni cheese.’

  ‘Mac cheese? Where’s the meat?’

  ‘It’s the end of the week, and I had bills to pay. Things are a bit tight.’ She didn’t add that he was the main cause of her current financial problems, what with her needing to keep some beers in for him, to say nothing of the extra food.

  ‘Would this help?’ Billy pulled a wad of notes from his pocket and peeled off a couple of twenties which he threw on the kitchen table.

  ‘I can’t take your money,’ she said, although she dearly wanted to grab it with both hands.

  ‘You can and you will. And I want a nice piece of steak for my supper tomorrow. None of this mac cheese shit, understand.’

  ‘It’s all I’ve got for tonight.’

  ‘Then Ashley can have it when he bothers to come home again. I’m not going to eat that muck.’

  ‘But...’

  ‘We’ll eat at the pub.’

  Amy grabbed her oven gloves, switched the oven off and took out the bubbling pasta dish. Much as eating out would be a treat, macaroni cheese was one of her favourites and she’d been looking forward to it. Never mind – she could heat up what Ashley left for their supper on Monday, when she didn’t have to worry about what Billy would or wouldn’t eat.