A Flash of Blue

by Maria Farrer

  “Busy day?” The voice is husky and friendly. I look up and a warmth fills my chest.

  “Tyler! What is it with you and surprising me?” I try to sound normal but my heart is skittering.

  “I’ve been in town,” he says.

  “And you just happened to be hanging out near the café?”

  “Sort of.” He falls into step beside me.

  “Are you stalking me?” I give him a playful nudge.

  “How else do I get hold of you?”

  I can feel the pink spreading from my neck to my face.

  “Do you mind?” he asks.

  Do I mind? Right now I could fling my arms round him. He’s the only person that seems to want to be with me.

  “You look a bit done in,” he says. “How’s your gran?”

  “Not great. Mum’s with her. She doesn’t want to see me.”

  “Your gran or your mum?”

  “Both probably.”

  Tyler puts his arm round my shoulders, giving me a reassuring hug. “I don’t think I could ever go back to that hospital,” he says. “Maybe they’re just trying to make things easier for you.”

  “Yeah, right.”

  He gives a final squeeze and drops his arm back to his side and we walk on in silence for a few paces. Then he says, “I’ve got something for you.”

  “You have?”

  “I found your phone.”

  I stop walking. “How come?”

  He taps his nose twice.

  “I don’t believe you,” I say and he grins. “Go on then, hand it over.”

  “I haven’t got it with me. It’s back at the caravan. That’s why I wanted to catch you – so you can come back with me and pick it up.”

  I smile. His plan is not exactly subtle. “Did you check it? Is it working?”

  “Yep, good as new.”

  I puff out air. “Well that’s a bit of luck.”

  He slips his hand into mine and I don’t stop him. As we walk, his grip on my hand becomes more insistent. “So you’ll come with me then?”

  “What, now?”

  “Why not?”

  I pause and shake my head. “I want to – I really do. It’s just with Gran and everything. I think I have to play by the rules for a while.”

  “I thought rules were made to be broken,” he says with a dry laugh. “That’s what Liam used to say.”

  “Did he?” I never noticed him breaking any. I think I’ve broken enough for a lifetime over the last few days.

  Tyler’s eyes wander away from mine and I follow his gaze to a small group of people huddled against a wall between two shops.

  “Are you OK?” I say.

  “Yeah – fine.” He drags his eyes back to me and we walk towards a bench and sit down.

  “Come on, Amber. Please come. I thought you said you wanted to see me again.” He touches my cheek with the back of his hand – the same as he did yesterday. Any resistance I had begins to melt away and I know I don’t need much persuading. Mum’s at the hospital. Dad won’t be back. What’s stopping me? Tyler puts his finger on my chin and strokes it down my neck to my chest.

  “I’m not wearing it,” I say. “It’s in my bag.”

  “I like it when you wear it.”

  “No one knows I’ve got it apart from you. I can’t risk wearing it with Mum and Dad around.”

  “Our secret.” He smiles, leans in towards me and gives me the lightest kiss on the lips. Tiny bubbles of happiness fizz around my body. I like that my secret is shared; I like Tyler. “Don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone,” he says and he kisses me again. Gentle – not demanding.

  My body responds with an impulsive rush of anticipation, a thrill of the unknown as my world shrinks down to just Tyler and me. But he pulls away and I wonder if I’ve done something wrong. His focus has switched back to the group. They are watching us, I’m sure of it and I’m suddenly embarrassed and self-conscious.

  “Do you know them?” I ask.

  “Yeah. They’re mates. I think they’d like to meet you. I’ve told them all about you,” he says.

  I feel a rush of pride mixed with disappointment. Tyler is telling his friends about me.They want to meet me. But why are they hanging around right now? Would Tyler rather spend time with them? Something doesn’t feel right.

  “Come on,” he says. I try to fight my shyness. If these are his friends then I need to make a good impression.

  Tyler leads me towards them. As we approach, he grips my hand a little tighter.

  “This is Amber,” he says. “Declan, Joel, Becky.” He nods at each one in turn.

  “Hi,” I say uncertainly.

  They size me up – literally stare me up and down. I swallow. The one called Declan raises his eyebrows very slightly and says, “Nice to meet you. How’s it going?” He doesn’t wait for a reply. He turns to the others. “So I’ll see you back at the caravan then – in thirty?”

  “Is she coming?” asks the girl.

  “Of course she is,” says Declan.

  The fizz, the thrill and the anticipation have gone and I curl back into myself. I want it to be just me and Tyler.

  “Actually, I should go home,” I say. “I’m kind of grounded at the moment.”

  “Grounded?” says Declan with mock horror. “That is terrible. And what will Mummy and Daddy do to you if you don’t go home?”

  They all laugh. I feel stupid so I laugh too. “I guess they won’t do much – they’re not there.”

  Declan wipes his forehead dramatically. “Phew! Grounded by absent parents; made me sweat to think about it.”

  There’s more laughter and Tyler puts his arm around me again. We start walking, me between Declan and Tyler.

  “Has she been to your caravan before?” Becky asks.

  “Yes, she has,” says Tyler.

  “I was there on Saturday night, since you ask,” I say pointedly.

  Declan chuckles, licks the tip of his finger and draws an imaginary line in the air. Becky looks fed up and Joel gives a snort, or is it a laugh? Clearly, I’m excluded from this little joke. I glance at Tyler but his eyes are on the ground. We head into a car park, threading our way through the lines of cars. I walk almost in a trance.

  “I’ll meet you there,” says Declan to no one in particular, as he opens the door of the car next to Tyler’s. “I’ve got a couple of things to sort.”

  “I’ll come with you,” says Becky and takes a couple of steps towards Declan’s car. Declan blocks her.

  “No. You go with Tyler. You can look after Amber.”

  “I’m not bloody well—”

  “Quit your jabbering. Just keep your mouth shut, OK?” Declan is only centimetres away from Becky and they’re eyeball to eyeball.

  Becky pouts and looks at her feet. Declan stands absolutely still until she lifts her head again. He points a finger against her chest. Everyone is silent, watching. Declan doesn’t say a word, just gives her a small push, swings himself into the driver’s seat and slams the door. He starts the car, revs it hard and drives away leaving behind a tense silence. We get into Tyler’s car, Becky and me in the back, Tyler and Joel in the front. Becky looks upset. I should try to be nice.

  “Are you all right?” I say.

  Becky angles her body away from me. “None of your business. Just because—”

  “You heard what Declan said,” Joel says, turning round and looking at Becky. “Keep your mouth shut.”

  “You can shut up yourself.” Becky crosses her arms and sits back hard against the seat.

  I catch Tyler’s warning glance in the rear-view mirror. He hits the volume on the radio and cranks up the music; a loud bass beat thumps through the car. No one speaks and Becky stares out of the window with a face like thunder.

  There’s a build-up of traff
ic as we head out of the city centre and Joel reckons he knows a good shortcut. It’s a smart area of town – big houses with neat gardens.

  “Slick Street,” says Becky in a disinterested voice.

  “Shut it!” says Joel, shaking his head. Becky gives the back of his seat a kick.

  We drive on and stop at some random place to pick up pizzas. Tyler collects money from the others but he won’t take mine. He says it’s his shout.

  I try to insist. I got plenty of tips this morning, but he won’t take anything.

  Left in the car with Joel and Becky, the atmosphere is hardly friendly. Joel asks me a series of predictable questions, but he’s too busy playing games on his phone to listen to the answers.

  “How long have you been working at the café?” he says.

  How does he know I work at the café? “A couple of years. Have you been in?”

  He shakes his head. “Nah. Don’t do cafés. Do you like it?”

  “Yeah, it’s fine.”

  His fingers work the buttons on his phone. “Can you make that fancy coffee?”

  Becky jabs her finger into the back of his head. “As if you’d know anything about fancy coffee.”

  They start sniping away at each other and Joel turns up the volume on his phone, pretending to completely ignore her. Eventually Becky gives up and goes back to staring out of the window. By the time Tyler emerges with pizza boxes piled on his forearms, I’m about ready to get out of the car and walk home. Seeing his smile changes all that and I get out to give him a hand.

  “Thanks,” he says and rolls his eyes at the others.

  “Well trained,” says Becky once I’m back in the car, as she continues to stare out of the opposite window.

  The pizzas are warm on my lap and, as we set off down the smaller, winding lanes, the rich cheesy smell makes me feel carsick.

  We pull up at the entrance to the paddock and Joel opens the gate.

  “Don’t wait,” says Becky, getting out and joining him. “Joel and I are going to take a walk.” She stands and watches with her arms crossed as Joel struggles to close it again.

  “Slow Joe,” says Tyler and grins at me.

  “Are him and Becky together?”

  “On and off. They break up about once a week and then make up again. It’s stupid. Joel’s not the cleverest and Becky runs rings round him.”

  I decide it’s best to keep my thoughts about Becky to myself.

  We drive through the yard, leaving the other two behind. This time, I take in my surroundings properly. Not that they’re exactly memorable. The yard is full of stripped-out old cars, battered furniture and no end of other stuff.

  “Not pretty, is it?” says Tyler. His body language has softened now it’s only us in the car. “I like it, though. It’s a place I can disappear.”

  I look at the piles of unwanted junk. “Do you want to disappear?”

  He shrugs. “Don’t you?”

  I consider this for a moment. “Most of the time, I think I already have. People only seem to notice I exist when there’s trouble.”

  “I notice you exist.”

  I know I’m blushing again. The warmth in my face matches the warmth inside my chest, my stomach, my everywhere.

  Tyler parks the car and we get out – it’s good to be in the fresh air. I help carry the pizzas to the caravan, then Tyler closes the door behind us and takes the boxes from me, putting them on the side.

  We stand close to each other – too close to be comfortable without touching. He seems uncertain. I’m unwilling to make the first move. He scratches his fingers backwards and forwards through his hair, making it stand up in spikes. I laugh.

  “You didn’t believe me about your phone, did you?” he says. He turns around and searches in a small drawer before pulling it out. “I wasn’t lying and I’ve even charged it for you. Sonia’s got the same one, luckily.”

  “Thank you.” I hold out my hand but he doesn’t give it to me.

  “You’ve got plenty of messages,” he says, holding the phone against his chest.

  “How would you know?”

  “I had to check the phone was working, didn’t I? I haven’t read them.”

  “Of course you haven’t.” I hold out my hand more insistently.

  “Are you sure Simon isn’t your boyfriend?” he asks.

  “I thought you just said you didn’t read them.”

  He folds his arms, trapping my phone underneath them.

  “Well?” he says.

  “Simon’s a good friend. That’s all.” As I say it, I wonder if I can even describe him as that any more.

  “That’s good.” Tyler looks thoughtful, then places my phone in my hand and holds it there, so it’s sandwiched between our two hands, our fingers touching. He doesn’t let go. His eyes hold mine, blue to brown. Not for the first time, there’s something in the stillness of that gaze that unsettles me; as if he sees me, but doesn’t see me. He doesn’t move and doesn’t speak. Finally he lets go of the phone and steps away. I don’t trust myself to move.

  “Did Kelly and Simon know each other before?” Tyler asks.

  “Sorry?”

  “Your friend Simon – did Kelly know him before the party the other night?”

  I frown. “Not really. She might’ve met him with me a while back. Why?”

  Tyler shrugs. “Just wondered. Anyway, he’s left you a heap of messages.” He nods towards the phone.

  I switch it on and flick through the messages. His eyes don’t leave me. I don’t need to look up, I just know. He watches as my life unravels. Text after text from Simon on the night of Kelly’s party.

  On my way. Be there shortly.

  R U OK?

  At front door. Where R U?

  Now in kitchen. Trying to ring. Answer your phone.

  I keep scrolling down. The story of that night.

  Someone said u left. Where are you?

  Answer your phone.

  To pisedd to drive.

  Fk u.

  Messages from Gran, Gran, Gran, Gran, Mum, Dad, Dad. Frantic messages about where I am and what I’m doing. Each text yells at me louder than the last. Then more from Simon.

  URGENT. Contact me or your parents.

  Your Gran is in hospital. ANSWER YOUR PHONE

  There are a couple more messages from Simon. Yesterday.

  Can you meet me? We need to talk.

  Please.

  I wish I’d got those last messages. Maybe I could have managed things better between us. Too late now.

  I don’t dare listen to the voice messages. I don’t want to hear Simon, Mum, Dad or, worst of all, Gran. If she dies, her voice will be on my phone and everything she says will remind me of what I did. What would Gran’s last message say? I can’t believe you’ve done this to me, Amber? I picture her collapsing on her pathway.

  My knees don’t want to hold me up any more. Gently, Tyler takes my phone and switches it off, then wraps his arms around me and strokes my hair. It reminds me of the way Liam used to comfort me when I was younger. I feel safe – I feel cared for.

  Voices approach the caravan. Tyler doesn’t let go. He kisses me gently on the forehead and keeps hold of me, rocking me slowly backwards and forwards.

  “Oooh! Sorry for interrupting,” says Becky as the door bangs open.

  “Shut up,” says Tyler.

  “Tetchy,” she says.

  He doesn’t let go of me. I’m embarrassed and I press him away, tucking my hair behind my ears. I don’t want Becky and Joel here.

  “Come on, Ty, the pizza’s getting cold,” says Joel. “And some of us have worked up a bit of an appetite.” He pulls Becky into the caravan. She giggles and nudges him.

  A change seems to come over Tyler. His face hardens and his hands pump as if he’s squeezin
g something in his fists. Joel and Becky bring the boxes over to the table and start opening them. The pizza is still vaguely warm –Tyler rips off a slice and holds it out to me.

  “Eat,” he says.

  We sit, eat, talk. The food gives me energy. I begin to feel better and start to relax. Tyler sits close to me. Becky and Joel watch us. Becky’s still ignoring me, but she’s more chilled and she starts telling stories about her mum and her mum’s boyfriend. He moved into the house six months ago with his two young kids and now he thinks he runs the place. Her mum does what she’s told. The boyfriend doesn’t want Becky around. He’s said that straight to her face. He doesn’t like her friends either. Apparently, on Saturday, Becky turned up with Joel and the boyfriend threw them both out. Becky says she’s never going back. She looks at me as if to say beat that, then carries on talking to the boys.

  “And what’s more,” she says, waving a slice of pizza in the air, “now mum’s complaining because she hasn’t got anyone to babysit the kids. She should’ve thought of that before – it’s her tough luck.”

  Then Joel launches in and starts talking about his dad’s drinking and how it’s best not to be around when he’s drunk. I nod in agreement. The way they tell it makes it all sound unimportant, but every now and again their eyes betray them. This is not what life is supposed to be like, but we’re all stuck in it and we have to get on with it. That’s the message. Listening to them and realizing I’m not the only one putting up with stuff at home is a good feeling. I wonder how much Tyler has told them about me. I notice he hasn’t opened his mouth once.

  We keep eating until all that’s left are some ragged crusts and the pineapple that Tyler’s picked off. Joel chucks the boxes outside the caravan. Tyler picks up his guitar and starts to strum. He rests one foot on the table and props his guitar on his bent leg, his body relaxed back against a pillow. I follow the line of his slim arms as they stretch from the sleeves of his baggy T-shirt. The fingers of his left hand move up and down the guitar while the other hand gently plucks the strings. I’d like to slide into the gap between his guitar and his body and stay there.

  “Shall I do your nails?” asks Becky, leaning across the table and taking my hand. Her sudden attention takes me by surprise.