‘School,’ Skye muttered, her gaze flicking nervously between each of the three girls. They were in the year above her, and they were the hardest girls in the school so everyone was scared of them.
‘Where’s my money?’ Janet demanded, a nasty glint in her eye.
‘Wh-what money?’ asked Skye, conscious that a crowd was beginning to form behind them.
‘My money!’ Janet seized her by the throat and shoved her up against the hedge that bordered the pathway. ‘You think you can walk this way without asking my permission or paying a toll?’
‘I don’t know what you mean,’ Skye spluttered, wincing as the girl’s fake nails dug into her neck.
‘I own this path,’ Janet informed her. ‘And no one gets to come this way without my say-so.’
Tears of humiliation flooding her eyes when she heard laughter from the crowd, Skye said, ‘I’m sorry, I didn’t know. I’ll go the other way.’
‘Too late,’ said Janet, enjoying herself too much to let her victim go just like that. ‘You’ve trespassed, so now you’ll have to pay a fine. It’s a tenner. Pay up.’
‘I haven’t got any money,’ Skye whimpered, hating herself for being so weak.
‘Oh dear,’ Janet drawled nastily. ‘Well, you’ll have to pay some other way, then, won’t you?’
‘Can I give it to you tomorrow?’ Skye pleaded, terrified that she was about to get her head kicked in.
‘Nah, I want it now,’ Janet replied coldly. Then, her lips twisting with spite as an idea came to her, she said, ‘Take your skirt off.’
‘What? No!’ Skye’s cheeks turned scarlet as she clocked some boys grinning in anticipation.
‘You fuckin’ what?’ Janet bared her teeth and dug her nails in deeper. ‘You daring to disobey me, you little slag?’
Sickened by the smell of stale tobacco on Janet’s breath, and terrified that her windpipe would snap if the girl squeezed any harder, Skye felt as if she was about to faint.
‘What’s going on down there?’ a voice suddenly boomed from the school end of the path. ‘Get yourselves inside immediately. Anyone who’s late for registration will be on detention for a week!’
It was the headmaster, Mr Talbot, and even Janet – as tough as she liked to think she was – didn’t have the guts to ignore his command, because she immediately let go of Skye.
‘One word and you’re dead,’ she hissed as she backed away. ‘And you’d best have twenty quid for me first thing tomorrow – or else.’
She merged in with the crowd now, and moved off down the path. Mr Talbot clapped his hands to hurry them along.
Over their heads, he spotted Skye disentangling herself from the hedge, and raised his arm. ‘You, there!’ he called, clicking his fingers at her. ‘Come here.’
Skye dipped her head as she approached him, desperate to hide her tears and the marks that Janet’s nails had left on her neck, because he’d be bound to guess what had happened if he saw them.
When she reached him, Mr Talbot peered down at her with thinly concealed distaste. This was a deprived area, so a lot of his pupils fell short of his presentation and hygiene expectations. But this girl, with her lank hair, unhealthy pallor, scuffed shoes and grubby uniform, looked particularly unkempt.
‘Have you been fighting?’ he demanded.
‘No, sir.’ Skye shook her head. ‘I just tripped and fell into the hedge.’
Mr Talbot didn’t believe her, but before he could quiz her further the school bell rang and he remembered that he had a meeting to get to. ‘Right, in you go.’ He waved her on her way. ‘And don’t run or you’ll be going on report.’
Relieved to be off the hook, Skye walked quickly to her form room. If Mr Talbot had pushed for answers, she might have accidentally dropped Janet in it – and that would have been as good as signing her own death warrant. As it was, she still had to get her hands on twenty quid by tomorrow morning or she was in for a kicking at the very least. She had no idea how she was going to manage it, and the worry pressed down on her like a lead weight for the rest of the day.
When the home-time bell rang, she hid in the toilets until she was sure that everyone had left the premises. Then, scared that Janet and her friends might be waiting out back, she left by the front gate. It was the long way home, but at least she’d get there in one piece, and that was all she cared about right now.
Hayley was dozing, but she forced herself to wake up when she heard that Skye had come to visit.
‘Ten minutes,’ Kathy Simms cautioned as she waved her daughter’s friend into the bedroom. ‘The doctor said she needs to rest.’
Skye nodded and smiled politely, but the smile slipped as soon as the door closed, and she felt a twinge of envy nibble at her stomach as she gazed around. Her own room was decorated with shabby mismatched furniture that belonged to their landlord; the dresser drawers were dodgy, the wallpaper was ripped and showed patches of damp in every corner, and her lumpy mattress had probably been slept on by a thousand people before her. In contrast, Hayley’s room was every princess’s dream; from the silky pink wallpaper and pretty white furniture, to the comfortable-looking bed with its plump pillows and thick duvet. But it was the small flat-screen TV sitting on the chest of drawers facing the bed that really irked Skye. They didn’t even have a TV as good as that in the living room at their house, never mind one all for herself in her bedroom.
Hayley was peering up at Skye from the bed. ‘Are you okay?’ she asked when she saw the look on her face.
‘What?’ Skye shook herself out of it and turned around. She immediately felt guilty for having thought that Hayley was putting her illness on when she saw how pale she was, and how dark the rings around her eyes. ‘Sorry,’ she apologised, perching on the edge of the bed. ‘It’s been a crap day. But never mind me, how are you? You look terrible.’
‘Wow, thanks.’ Hayley gave a weak smile and pushed herself up on her pillows. ‘I’m so sick of these chest infections. It’s like I only have to look at someone blowing their nose and I catch another one.’
‘What’s the doctor said?’
‘The usual.’ Hayley shrugged. ‘Rest, drink loads of water, and take my antibiotics. Anyway, I don’t want to talk about that. What’s up with you?’
‘Had a run-in with Janet Hampson and her bulldogs,’ Skye told her. ‘The bitch jumped me this morning and said I had to pay to go down the path.’
‘Cheeky cow!’ Hayley was indignant. ‘What did you do?’
‘Told her to piss off,’ Skye lied. Then, rolling her eyes, she admitted, ‘Nothing I could do, was there? I stood no chance against the three of them.’ She looked down at her feet now, and chewed on her lip for a moment before saying, ‘Can you lend us twenty quid?’
‘Twenty?’ Hayley’s eyebrows shot up. ‘That’s a bit much, isn’t it? What do you need it for?’
‘Nothing, it doesn’t matter,’ Skye said miserably. ‘I shouldn’t have asked.’
Hayley frowned when Skye’s shoulders slumped. She’d never seen her as low as this, and Skye had never asked to borrow money before. Concerned, she said, ‘What’s wrong, hon?’
‘Nothing,’ Skye lied.
‘There clearly is,’ Hayley persisted. ‘And you know you can tell me anything, don’t you?’
Skye sniffed softly and gave a wan smile. ‘That’s what QTPye said last night when I told her my mum and dad were at it again. Doesn’t change anything, though, does it? Talking, I mean.’
‘Depends who you’re talking to,’ said Hayley, battling resentment at the thought of Skye chatting to that girl without her again. She knew it was unreasonable; that she had no right to expect Skye not to be friends with anyone else. But she couldn’t help it. She was supposed to be Skye’s best friend, and they were only supposed to tell each other their secrets, no one else.
Skye sighed and shook her head. ‘Nah, it doesn’t make any difference; nothing ever changes.’ She stood up now and forced a smile. ‘I’d best go before your mum kicks
me out.’
‘Wait a minute,’ Hayley said decisively. ‘Pass me my piggy bank.’
‘No, it’s okay.’ Skye backed towards the door. ‘It’s my problem, I’ll sort it.’
‘If you walk out, I swear to God I’ll never talk to you again,’ Hayley warned.
Skye couldn’t help but grin when she saw the stern expression on Hayley’s face. ‘Don’t look at me like that,’ she teased. ‘You look like Mrs McCready.’
‘Well, if you did as you were told instead of arguing all the time I wouldn’t have to tell you off,’ Hayley retorted mock-sternly. Then, softening, she said, ‘Look, Skye, you’re my best mate and I want to help you, so just pass me the damn piggy bank. Or do I have to get it myself?’
‘Don’t you dare,’ Skye hissed, glancing at the door. ‘Your mum’ll kill me if she thinks I made you get out of bed.’
‘Get it, then.’
Skye did as she’d been told and lifted the heavy piggy bank off the shelf. Sure from the weight that it must be crammed with copper coins, her eyes widened when Hayley pulled the little plastic stopper out and, sticking two fingers inside, extracted a folded wad of notes.
‘Here.’ Hayley peeled off a twenty and held it out. ‘You don’t have to tell me what it’s for if you don’t want to.’
‘It’s for Janet,’ Skye admitted, gratefully taking it and slipping it into her bra. ‘She said I had to give it to her first thing, or else. I’ll pay you back as soon as I can – cross my heart.’
‘Don’t worry about it,’ said Hayley, a resigned edge to her voice as she added, ‘I won’t be spending it anytime soon stuck in here, will I?’
Skye frowned as she gazed down at her friend. ‘No, but you’ll be better soon. You’re always getting colds, you; you’ll fight it off in no time. Better had,’ she added, smiling now. ‘I’m getting fed up of walking to school on my own.’
Hayley smiled back, and gave a weak salute. ‘Okay, boss, I’ll do my best.’ Then, remembering something, she rolled over and reached into her bedside drawer. ‘Here.’ She took out a tiny square wrapped in tissue paper. ‘This is for you.’
‘What is it?’ Skye asked.
‘It’s your birthday on Monday,’ Hayley reminded her. ‘I was going to give it to you on the way to school, but it looks like I’m going to be off for another week, so I thought you’d best have it now.’
‘You didn’t have to get me anything,’ Skye murmured, touched that she’d remembered.
‘Open it,’ Hayley ordered, eager to see her reaction. ‘It’s only little, but I thought of you as soon as I saw it.’
Skye carefully unwrapped the tissue, and gasped when a delicate silver chain with a tiny angel hanging from it fell out onto her lap. ‘Oh, it’s gorgeous,’ she exclaimed, picking it up.
‘It’s your guardian angel.’ Hayley beamed. ‘Anytime you feel low, just touch her and make a wish and she’ll put everything right.’
‘That’s lovely,’ Skye said, unhooking the catch. ‘Here, put it on for me.’
Hayley reached up and fastened the necklace around Skye’s throat, and then watched as she went over to the dressing table to take a look in the mirror.
‘I love it,’ Skye murmured, gazing at it. ‘It’s the best present ever.’
The door opened just then, and Kathy walked in carrying a bottle and a spoon. ‘Sorry, you’ll have to go now,’ she said to Skye. ‘Hayley needs her medicine.’
‘I was just going,’ Skye told her. ‘Thanks for letting me see her. Can I come again tomorrow?’
‘We’ll see.’
‘I gave her the necklace,’ Hayley said. ‘Suits her, doesn’t it?’
Kathy nodded and smiled. She hadn’t been particularly pleased when Hayley had first struck up a friendship with Skye, because the girl was quite scruffy and seemed a bit rough around the edges. But since she’d learned a little about her home life, she felt sorry for her and was pleased if the necklace had given her a bit of joy.
‘Hurry up and get yourself home, pet,’ she said softly. ‘And no dawdling. It’s getting dark out there, and there are some funny people about.’
‘I’ll be careful,’ Skye promised. Then, turning back to the bed, she leaned down and hugged her friend, whispering, ‘Thanks, Hayls, you’re the best.’
When she stepped out of the house a few seconds later, the cold air hit Skye like a sledgehammer. Teeth already chattering, she zipped up her jacket and shoved her hands deep into her pockets before heading home. There had been a lovely smell of cooking in the air back at Hayley’s, and she hoped that her own mum had bothered to make dinner today – and, if so, that it would be something hot, for a change. She didn’t mind salad every now and then, but it was all they seemed to have lately, and she didn’t see why she should have to eat it just because her mum was on a diet. She wouldn’t have minded so much if her mum even needed to lose weight, but she was already too skinny. It was just another symptom of her illness, though: seeing herself as fat, when everyone else saw her as thin; thinking she was hot, when everyone else was freezing. Getting paranoid that everybody was talking about her, when no one had said a word. Crazy.
The house was in darkness when Skye let herself in, and she was disappointed not to smell food. ‘Mum?’ she called, looping her jacket over the newel post at the bottom of the stairs. ‘Are you in?’
When no answer came, she blew on her icy hands and walked down the hall to the living room. Hesitating in the doorway when she saw her mum’s silhouetted figure hunched at the far end of the couch, she said, ‘I thought you were out. Why are you sitting in the dark?’
‘Don’t turn the light on, I’ve got a headache.’ Andrea Benson’s voice sounded hoarse, as if she’d been crying.
‘Has something happened?’ Skye asked, immediately concerned. ‘Dad hasn’t hit you, has he?’
‘Stop shouting,’ Andrea said sharply. ‘You’ll wake the baby.’
‘What baby?’ Skye frowned. ‘We haven’t got a baby, Mum. It’s just me – remember?’
‘Oh, you’d like that, wouldn’t you?’ spat Andrea. ‘Just because you can’t have one, you pretend that I haven’t got one. But you’re fooling no one, Linda Harris. Everyone knows your game.’
Skye’s legs began to tremble. Linda was her mum’s sister, and the two had fallen out years earlier when Linda had miscarried and accused Andrea of wishing it on her. If her mum now thought that she was Linda and there was a baby in the house, it could only mean that she was having a bad episode.
‘Mum, where are your tablets?’ Skye asked, taking a tentative step into the room. ‘Are they in your handbag? Shall I get them, then make you a nice cup of—’
She stopped talking when her foot hit something soft and heavy, and a rush of dread coursed through her when she looked down and saw the man-shaped figure on the floor.
‘Dad?’ she gasped. Then, hysteria rising into her throat, she stared at her mum and screamed, ‘What have you done?’
3
Skye was in shock. She remembered having made the 999 call, but everything had happened so fast after that, it had been just a blur of flashing lights, uniforms, and people running in and out of the house.
The sound of her mum’s screams when the police had handcuffed her and thrown her into the back of a van was still echoing in Skye’s ears; but it was the sight of her dad lying on the floor that would haunt her for ever. She’d already known there was blood, because her hands and knees were crusted with it from when she’d kneeled down and tried to rouse him. But she hadn’t realised how much blood until one of the coppers had turned the light on. It had looked like a scene out of a horror film, and she couldn’t get the image out of her mind – even now, hours later.
The police had taken her to the station after carting her mum off, and she’d been made to wait there until somebody from Social Services came for her. Huddled in the back seat of the social worker’s car now, en route to the emergency foster home where they had arranged for her to spend the nig
ht, her heart was breaking. Nobody had told her anything, and she was convinced that her dad was going to die – if he hadn’t already; and it was tearing her apart to think that she might never see him again.
Desperate for it to be a bad dream, she kept digging her nails into her leg in an effort to wake herself. But it was no dream; it was a real living nightmare, and she knew that life was never going to be the same again.
‘Almost there,’ Val Dunn said, glancing at Skye in the rear-view mirror. ‘Are you okay?’
Skye clamped her teeth together and stared angrily out at the dark road. Every time she’d asked about her dad they had said they didn’t know anything yet, but she knew they were lying. They must know something, they just didn’t want to tell her because they thought she was a kid. And that really pissed her off, because she was almost fifteen and had a right to know what was happening with her own dad. But if they wouldn’t talk to her, then she was determined not to talk to them.
Val gazed at the girl for a few more seconds before turning her attention back to the road ahead. It would have been good to know what was going through her mind, but she had clammed up back at the station, so Val could only guess how she must be feeling. She was clearly scared, which was only to be expected under the circumstances because no child enjoyed being lifted from their home and handed over to strangers. She was also angry, Val sensed; frustrated that nobody was giving her the answers she wanted. But the truth was, they simply didn’t know anything yet. Skye’s father had been in surgery when Val arrived at the station, and the hospital still hadn’t reported back by the time she and Skye had left. She would call for an update in the morning and decide what to tell Skye depending on the news, but her priority right now was to get the child settled.
They drove on in silence for a while, and Skye didn’t raise her gaze until they began to slow down. She’d known they were some distance away from her home because of how long it had taken to get here, but when she looked out along the tree-lined avenue and saw all the big houses she felt sick. This was rich-people territory, and those who could afford to live here had to be really old and posh, so they were bound to look down their noses at her. In a way, she kind of hoped they did, because if they refused to let her into their house the social worker would be forced to take her home. And that was all she wanted right now: to go home, climb into bed, and pretend that none of this was happening.
Afraid Page 2