by Ruth Thomas
‘No, I mean, she didn’t have the operation here, she come here for convalescent.’
‘At Brighton General?’
‘No, not Brighton General. That’s not the name. I forget the name.’
‘I suppose you’re worried about your mother, dear. Don’t worry, I’m sure she’ll be all right. Is it one of those new convalescent homes out at Hove?’
‘Yes, that’s right.’
‘Well, you go along and visit her now. I’m sure she’ll feel much better when she sees the two of you. You can give her my best wishes. Tell her Mrs Parsons hopes she’ll soon be quite well.’
‘Thank you, I will.’
Julia was amazed at the way Mrs Parsons seemed to believe every word she uttered. Teachers and mothers weren’t like that at all. They often thought you were lying, even when you were telling the strict and absolute truth. She began to feel just a little bit uncomfortable. It wasn’t nice having to tell lies to someone you liked, someone who trusted you.
The children went back to the beach. The weather was lovely again, and Julia wanted to swim. Nathan didn’t care about swimming, he wanted to look at ships. It was a nuisance not having his glasses, but if he practised without them, perhaps he would get used to it as Julia had said.
In spite of the warm weather, Nathan took his anorak, partly because he always took it, and partly because his money was still hidden in the lining. Julia’s money had all been transferred into the new shoulder bag. She wore it like a satchel, with the strap across her chest, clutching it to her stomach all the time. ‘In case somebody thiefs it,’ she explained.
When she went swimming she had to trust Nathan, but she was beginning to feel he could be trusted. It was a good feeling. They were mates now, sort of, she supposed.
They spent the whole day at the beach. When they were tired of swimming and paddling they walked along the front, sampling the delights of the various little shops and amusement arcades. They bought sticky rock and ice cream. They drarik Coke out of cans, and had two beefburgers each for their lunch. They spent a whole hour working the slot machines, the sort where you rolled a coin down a shoot and waited to see if a moving arm would push a pile of other coins into a hole and out of the machine for you to keep. They didn’t actually win anything, but it was fun, and there was always tomorrow.
There was a great bouncing thing, made of inflated rubber and shaped like a castle. Nathan had a go on that, and Julia was just going to have a go, when she remembered her sixteen-year-old image, and decided it wouldn’t be suitable. She envied Nathan, still a child, bouncing about in the rubber castle, but of course you couldn’t have everything.
On the way home, late that afternoon, they bought underwear for Nathan, and some toilet things for each of them. They also bought a spare tee-shirt for Nathan, and a change of blouse for Julia. There was a placard outside a newsagent with the headline ‘MISSING CHILDREN’ – but Julia could not read it, and Nathan could not see it properly because it was on the other side of the road, and too far away for him.
‘How’s your mother?’ asked Mrs Parsons, meeting them on the stairs.
‘A bit better,’ said Julia, cautiously.
‘That’s good then. Bless my soul, you look well, dear. You look as though you’ve been in the sun.’
Indeed, Julia’s face was glowing, her pale eyes bright from the happy day. ‘We went on the beach,’ she said.
‘That’s good. Did your mother come too?’
‘Yes, she came. She said the sun done her good. She said she can do with weeks and weeks like this.’
Mrs Parsons laughed. ‘We’ll be lucky to get weeks and weeks of this weather,’ she pointed out, honestly. ‘Your brother doesn’t say much, does he, Beverley.’
‘He’s shy,’ said Julia.
Nathan scowled. Whatever else he was, he was not shy.
‘I think it’s because he’s not really my brother,’ Julia went on, ‘He’s my adopted brother. My mum adopted him when he was little.’
‘I see,’ said Mrs Parsons, smiling as though she was glad that particular mystery had been cleared up. ‘But then it’s the same, isn’t it. He is really your brother now.’
Julia thought Mrs Parsons was probably the nicest lady she had ever met. She thought again what a shame it was that she had to tell lies to a nice lady like her.
That evening Julia washed out her dirty clothes and Nathan’s, and hung them over the window sill to dry. She had to use toilet soap instead of proper washing soap, but at least now everything was clean and sweet-smelling. She was enjoying herself very much. At home she had to be nagged to do any of her own laundry but here, now she was in charge, it was fun.
The weather continued good, and the children spent the next two days on the beach. There was so much to do, they thought they would never get tired of it. Julia’s skin was turning golden brown. She admired her deepening tan a hundred times a day. ‘I’m nearly as brown as you now, Nathan,’ she claimed, laying her arm alongside his.
When they arrived back at the boarding house on the Friday afternoon, Mrs Parsons had news for them ‘The television’s back,’ she said, with a beaming smile. ‘You’ll be able to watch it in the lounge this evening.’ They hadn’t missed it all that much, but they were glad to hear the television was back. It would be quite a treat, after they had had their supper.
They watched Brookside, and then a comedy programme called Father Ted. Nathan had to sit very close, to be able to see the screen without his glasses. After the comedy programme, the colourless old couple whom they had seen in the dining room joined them in the lounge, and came unexpectedly to life by asserting their right to have the ten o’clock news on BBC1. There was a film on Channel 5 which Nathan wanted to see, and he was rather disagreeable about having to miss it.
‘What a rude little boy,’ said Mr Nobody. ‘Didn’t you ever hear of having respect for older people? When I was your age I’d have had my ears boxed for as much as opening my mouth at the wrong time.’
‘We got equal right as you,’ said Nathan, glaring. ‘We paid as much as you.’
‘Shut up, Charlie,’ said Julia. ‘You mustn’t speak to the gentleman like that – where’s your manners?’
‘Rat-bag—’ Nathan began, turning on her furiously – but the retort on his lips was never finished for suddenly, incredibly, there was his picture on the televison screen! Julia’s too. Nathan gazed, in horrified silence. He could feel Julia gazing, beside him, he could sense her fear.
‘There is still no news of the missing children,’ the newsreader was saying, ‘and no definite witnesses as to their movements since Monday evening, though they are believed to have been traced as far as Euston. . . .’
‘It’s the fault of the schools,’ Mr Nobody was complaining in a loud voice – not about what the newsreader was saying, but about Nathan’s rudeness. ‘I blame the teachers, and the parents. There’s no discipline these days.’ He spoke so loudly that his voice quite drowned out the next thing the newsreader said, which was that the police had reason to think the children might possibly have tried to get to Brighton.
‘You’re quite right, dear,’ Mrs Nobody soothed her husband. ‘Let’s look at the news now though.’
‘An appeal is being made to anyone who thinks they may have seen this girl and boy to come forward,’ the newsreader was continuing. ‘The parents of both are greatly distressed, the girl’s mother in particular is said to be in a state of near collapse.’
‘Naughty little girl!’ expostulated Mr Nobody. ‘I know what I’d do to her if she was mine!’
‘They’ll catch her,’ Mrs Nobody promised. ‘And the boy. Soon, I’m sure.’
‘Another little perisher!’ Mr Nobody ranted on. ‘Upsetting his parents.’ He turned to Nathan and addressed him directly. ‘I hope you’re listening to all this. Look what that boy’s doing to his mother and father. No consideration, no consideration.’
‘It ain’t nothing to do with me,’ said Nathan.
‘I know it’s nothing to do with you,’ said Mr Nobody. ‘It’s just an example of how young people behave nowadays. Be quiet now, and let’s listen to the rest of the news.’
Miraculously, they had not been recognized. Their pictures had been on telly, and Mr and Mrs Nobody had not recognized them at all. True, Julia’s picture had been that of a pale eleven-year-old with plaits. Not very much like this suntanned young lady with the flowing locks and the pink lipstick. And Nathan’s picture showed him with thick glasses, which distorted the shape of his eyes and made him look quite different from the little boy sitting beside his ‘sister’ this evening.
Julia and Nathan went on sitting side by side. They knew they mustn’t move too soon. Then Julia faked a loud yawn, and immediately clapped a hand over her mouth. ‘Oh, manners!’ she reproved herself. ‘I must be tired – it’s all this fresh air.’ She yawned again. ‘Are you tired Charlie? Shall we go to bed?’ She hoped her voice sounded natural, after the fright.
‘Hush!’ said Mr Nobody, who was still watching the television.
‘Sorry,’ said Julia in a whisper. ‘Come on, Charlie.’
In the safety of their bedroom they let the tensions go. They cheered and crowed and bounced up and down on their beds. Nathan stood on his head and managed to stay there for half a minute before he fell in a giggling heap, while Julia sang a little song she made up for the occasion. ‘They don’t kno-o-w us. They don’t kno-o-w us.’
‘They won’t ca-a-tch us. They won’t ca-a-tch us,’ Nathan added to Julia’s song.
Both children went to bed in high spirits.
Both children woke, in the early hours. Nathan heard Julia tossing and fidgeting in the big bed, and he thought he heard a sob.
‘What’s the matter, Ju?’
‘Nothing.’
‘What you making that noise for then?’
‘Nothing. I can’t get back to sleep.’
‘Nor I can’t get back to sleep neither. . . . Julia, I thought you said your mum don’t care about you.’
‘She don’t.’
‘So why is she collapsing?’
‘She must be putting it on.’
‘Yeah – so’s my mum and dad putting it on.’
‘Yeah – they just want us back so they can tell the police of us, don’t they, Nathan.’
‘Yeah – and put us away.’
‘What else was it they was going to do to us, Nathan?’
‘Oh you know – thingy.’
It was something very bad, wasn’t it; and it was on the tip of his tongue, of course, but he couldn’t quite remember what it was.
There was a long silence.
‘Nathan.’
‘What?’
‘Shall we ring up our mums in the morning?’
‘Yeah, if you like.’
‘Just tell them we’re all right.’
‘If you like.’
Consciences appeased, Julia and Nathan slept soundly until morning.
They went out early, to use the public telephones.
‘I just remembered,’ said Nathan, ‘we ain’t on the phone no more.’
‘How could you forget something like that?’ said Julia.
How indeed? It was less than a week since they left London, but already home seemed shadowy, almost unreal. Nathan had to think really hard to remember ordinary details.
‘I’ll tell my mum to tell your mum,’ offered Julia.
Julia’s mother was still in bed when the phone went. Half asleep still, drugged with the pills the doctor had given her to soothe her nerves, she stumbled into the lounge to answer it. ‘Hullo?’ It might be the police. They might have some news.
‘Hullo, Mum? It’s me – Julia.’
‘I don’t believe it, oh I don’t believe it. Julia! Where are you?’
‘I’m not telling you where I am. I’m all right though. You don’t have to worry about me. You don’t have to collapse about me, Mum.’
‘Julia – come back, come back, there’s a good girl.’
‘You don’t want me. You got Vince.’
‘I do want you. I’m missing you, and that’s the gawd’s truth.’
Julia wavered, just for a moment. ‘I’m all right though. I’m having a good time.’
‘Having a good time!’ Mrs Winter’s voice was suddenly shrill. ‘You having a good time when we’re all doing our nuts looking for you? The police is looking for you, do you know that? And that Nathan Browne – is he with you?’
‘Yes he is. He’s all right too.’
‘You listen to me, Julia. You come right home this minute. You tell me where you are, and the police’ll come and find you both. You hear what I say? . . . Julia? . . . You wait till I get my hands on you if you don’t do what I say! . . . Julia? . . . You still there? . . . ’
Julia put the phone down.
It was unfortunate that Julia could not see to the other end of the line. That she could not see her sharp-tongued mother in a paroxysm of real grief and self-reproach. She had been within reach of getting her child back, and she had made a mess of it. Again.
‘Your mum angry?’ said Nathan, unnecessarily.
Nathan was actually glad his parents were not on the phone. He wanted them to know he was all right, but he didn’t want any scenes. He didn’t want to hear, for instance, how they were all praying for him to come back. Because there was no way he was ever going back. He was not going back to whatever horrible fate they were saving up for him at home. Anyway, not for a very long time. And anyway, he’d made up his mind to run away, so he was going to stay running away. As long as he could.
The children sat on the pebbles, looking out to sea.
‘Nathan,’ said Julia, ‘do you expect Mrs Henrey knows about us?’
‘Course.’
‘And Mr Barlowe?’
‘Course – we been on telly, innit!’
‘And all of Class 8. They all seen it. We’re famous, ain’t we! Fancy us famous. I never thought I would be famous, did you, Nathan?’
‘I dunno. I might be extremely famous one day.’
‘How?’
‘I dunno. I might do something famous. I might write a book. Like Treasure Island.’
‘You could write a book about us running away.’
‘Nah – that’s too ordinary. I mean Adventure on the High Seas, stuff like that.’
‘Oh.’
Saturday afternoon lengthened into Saturday evening, and next day was Sunday, with the church bells ringing and the hordes arriving in their cars, and by coach and train. Being the weekend, of course the weather had turned blustery and squally. Julia felt silly with her school anorak over the sixteen-year-old outfit. The big clothing shops were closed, but she managed to get a smartish plastic mac in one of the little places on the seafront, and shivered in that. The sea was grey-green today, and choppy. A few hardly souls were bathing, but Julia didn’t fancy it. Nathan was happy enough, watching for ships and playing the slot machines. But to Julia the day seemed somehow long, and without purpose. She was restless and irritable and hoping the sun would shine again tomorrow.
It didn’t. On Monday morning Mrs Parsons asked Julia would she like to settle the bill now, since she and Charlie had been there a week. She asked how their mother was, and Julia said not so well yesterday. She said that so it would look all right to stay another week perhaps, and Mrs Parsons said she was sorry to hear the news about Julia’s mother, but she wasn’t altogether surprised since she had noticed that Beverley had been looking a bit down in the dumps the last day or two. ‘Cheer up, dear,’ she added. ‘Bless my soul, your mother will be as right as rain, you mark my words. These things take time, you know.’
They went to the seafront, and Julia stared glumly at the cold-looking waves, the colour of old roofs in London, breaking frothily on the pebbles. Dark threatening clouds piled up over the sea, and the first drops of rain splashed on to the promenade. Julia and Nathan sat in a little seafront café and drank Coca-Cola, waiting
for the rain to finish.
Other holiday-makers had the same idea. They crowded into the little café, sheltering from the dismal weather, and soon Julia and Nathan found themselves sharing their table with a family of four, all enormously fat people, who proceeded to distend their already bulging stomachs with buns and milk shakes. There was a mother and father, a sticky baby with ice cream all over its face – and a boy about the same age as Julia and Nathan, who kept giving them funny looks. He stared quite rudely, first at Julia, then at Nathan, then back at Julia again. Finally he poked his father in the ribs and whispered something in his ear. The children could not hear what he said, because the sticky baby was bawling its head off by this time, with frustration at being cooped up in the café when it wanted to be crawling on the pebbles. The father jerked his head round sharply, to get a good look at Julia and Nathan.
‘Don’t talk stupid,’ he said to the boy, his mouth full of bun.
‘It’s not stupid, it’s them,’ said the boy in a loud whisper.
‘The girl’s much too old,’ hissed the father.
‘But that boy wears glasses really, you can see the mark on his nose.’
‘Keep your voice down, can’t you!’
Julia went very red. Nathan fidgeted anxiously, and his heels drummed against the table leg. ‘Let’s go, let’s go,’ he muttered, under cover of the baby’s continued squalls.
‘Come on, Charlie,’ said Julia. ‘We better hurry now. Mum’ll be waiting for us.’
They knew they ought to walk – show complete unconcern – but as soon as they were out of the café, panic took over, and they ran. Julia whipped off the spiky heels and held them in her hand as they both pelted along the seafront in the rain. A glance behind showed the fat boy running after them, a joyful expression on his pudgy face. But he soon stopped, out of breath. Julia saw him looking disappointed before she and Nathan rounded a corner and were out of sight.
‘Let’s go back to Mrs Parsons’,’ said Julia, who was quite shaken by the incident.