by Maria Farrer
I look down at my bitten nails, the ragged cuticles. “Not much point,” I say.
“Yeah, there is. Come on. Stick your hands over here.”
Becky fiddles in a bag. Pulls out nail varnish. My eyes keep straying back to Tyler and he smiles. Becky brushes electric blue on to my nails.
“Interesting choice of colour,” says Joel. “Unless Amber’s a Chelsea supporter. Now that wouldn’t please Declan.”
“Don’t be such a tosser,” says Becky. “It’s nail varnish. What do you want me to do, paint them in red and white stripes?” I note that Becky’s nails are bright red.
“My dad would lynch me if I supported Chelsea,” I say.
Tyler presses his lips together and I know we’re both thinking the same thing. All the football stuff in Liam’s room. Liam playing the dedicated Saints supporter to keep Dad happy. Tyler shifts his foot so it’s resting against mine and strums something more energetic and upbeat. Liam is a secret bond between us; a bond that no one else can share. It doesn’t matter about the others. I shake my hands to dry the nail varnish then blow on it gently. I wonder if Liam hung out with Tyler like this. I wonder if they came here?
The sound of a car bumping over the yard stops everything. Tyler and Joel exchange glances. Tyler stops playing and slides his guitar back into the cupboard. Becky puts away the nail varnish and goes into the toilet. There’s nothing laid-back about the atmosphere now.
When Becky comes out, she’s got lipstick on and one of the buttons on her shirt is undone so her bra is showing. Should I tell her? A car door bangs, then Declan appears in the doorway of the caravan. He’s not large, yet his presence makes the caravan seem small and claustrophobic. Becky moves close to Declan and he flicks her hair with his fingers.
“Take Amber out for a walk, will you?” he says.
Becky presses herself against him as she moves towards the door and whispers something in his ear. Her body language is so obvious that Joel can’t have missed it. Declan makes a small head movement in my direction and Tyler shifts to let me out.
“Why do I have to go for a walk?” I say. Becky looks at me with an expression somewhere between boredom and disgust.
“It’s OK, babe,” Tyler says smoothly. “It won’t be for long.”
Babe? Since when did Tyler start calling me babe? I resist as Tyler pushes me up. “Do this for me,” he whispers. He stands up behind me and his arms circle my waist, his hands resting gently on my hip bones.
Declan watches me closely. I turn my head so I can see Tyler’s face. I question him silently. He hardly looks at me but I see a flash of something. Fear?
“Here.” He lets go of me and slips off his hoodie. “It may not be so warm out there now, take this.”
“Aren’t we the gentleman,” says Becky.
I narrow my eyes at her and she doesn’t react at all.
Tyler presses me towards the door where Becky is waiting.
“This way,” says Becky. “I’ll take you to the barn.”
Declan smiles at her and winks. Gran says never to trust a man who winks.
After the warmth in the caravan, the air is cool and I’m grateful for the hoodie. It smells faintly of pizza, strongly of cigarettes and unmistakably of Tyler. I hug it around me as we follow the path down the side of the hedge and keep going.
“Why did Declan ask you to take me for a walk?” I ask. I may as well try to make conversation.
“Boy stuff,” she says.
“Boy stuff like what?”
“How would I know? I’m just a girl.” The way she says it is suddenly angry.
“What’s with you and Declan, anyway?”
“What do you mean?”
“Well there’s obviously something going on.”
“It’s complicated,” she says twiddling the button of her shirt. “Hands off, though.”
“But I thought you were going out with Joel… ?”
Becky flashes me a shut-up look and I shrug. Why would I be interested in Declan anyway? I only met him like a couple of hours ago. It must be pretty clear that Tyler and me are… I frown. What are we? Anyway, Becky needn’t worry.
The further we get from the caravan, the more relaxed Becky becomes. The smells and sounds are different out here in the countryside and the sky is turning a gold-edged pink. You can almost see her softening.
“Red sky at night, shepherd’s delight,” she says. “No idea what that’s supposed to mean but my nan always used to say it.”
“Is she still alive?”
“No. Died a few years back. Yours?”
“She’s in hospital.”
“Oh. I’m sorry. Shame.”
Shame. That about sums up the way I feel. I consider telling Becky about it, but I’m not sure of her yet. We keep walking for a few minutes until we reach a corrugated-iron building, which must be the barn. The whole place smells abandoned, unwanted, neglected. Inside, blackened straw bales have been pushed around to make a kind of seating area. Becky plonks herself down on one and the dust rises in a great puff, catching in my throat and making me cough.
She starts to roll herself a cigarette, then offers the tobacco to me.
I shake my head and she smiles.
“Go on,” she says. “One won’t hurt you.”
“I can’t. It’s not good for my running.” Training has always been a useful excuse for not smoking.
“Running?”
“Yeah. Cross country and long distance mainly.”
Becky runs her tongue along the paper and sticks it down. “What do you want to do that for? What’s the point?”
It’s a good question.
She flicks her lighter and holds it to the end of her cigarette. Once it’s lit she holds it out to me. “Sure?” she asks.
I don’t want to be lame, so I take it and try to take a puff without inhaling. She laughs and I hand it back to her.
“Is that safe in here?” I stare around at all the straw.
“Probably not.” She inhales deeply and reaches behind the straw bale, pulling out an old mug. It’s already stuffed full of cigarette butts. “So how long have you known Tyler?”
“About three years,” I answer.
“That long?” She seems surprised. “How come you’ve not been round before?”
“We haven’t hung out together in a while. I’m more a friend of Kelly’s.”
“Kelly?”
“Tyler’s sister. Or stepsister. Tyler was friends with my brother.”
“Was? What happened – did they fall out or something?”
Little goosebumps press at my skin. I had the impression Becky and Tyler knew each other pretty well.
“My brother died.”
“No shit!”
Her reaction is, at least, different and it makes me smile. But the fact Tyler’s said nothing strikes me as odd. You’d have thought he’d have mentioned Liam, at least. I decide to steer the conversation away from me and Liam.
“How about you?” I ask. “How long have you known Tyler for?”
“I don’t know. About eight months, maybe. Under a year, anyway.”
She finishes her cigarette, stubs it out in the mug. She flops back against the straw and closes her eyes. I hug my knees up inside Tyler’s sweatshirt and listen to the silence of the barn, but my mind isn’t silent at all. Perhaps Tyler is trying to create some kind of new life for himself with people who know nothing about him or his past. But if that’s the case, why is he hanging out with me? The longer we sit here, the colder I get. Becky seems to be asleep. The straw prickles through my jeans.
A sharp whistle sounds in the distance. Becky opens her eyes and sits up, immediately alert.
“You can go back now,” she says.
“How come?”
“That’s what Declan’s whistl
e means.”
“He whistles and we’re expected to move? Like dogs?”
“He’s OK.” Becky flops forward and stares at the ground, her elbows on her knees. “You’ll get used to it. You’d better go.”
“What about you?”
“I’ll hang around here for a while.” She looks up at me and smiles. It’s hard to read her expression. I hesitate, but she’s already busy rolling another cigarette. “Go on,” she says waving me away, “and tell Declan to bring a blanket, will you? I’m fed up of this prickly straw.”
I retrace my footsteps to the caravan. The sky has now turned deep red and the last light is fading fast. I’m trying to work out the Declan, Becky, Joel triangle. It’s weird.
When I get to the caravan, I’m not sure what to do. I put my ear to the door and listen. “You’d better not be pissing me about,” I hear Declan say. Do I knock? I decide not and open the door slowly. Three faces turn towards me and the talking stops.
“Becky said to come back,” I say.
“Glad to hear she’s teaching you the ropes,” says Declan.
“Where is she?” asks Joel.
“She said to take a blanket,” I say quietly, to no one in particular.
Declan cleans his nails with a pocket knife. “Come on, Joel, don’t look so hard done by. You know the deal,” he says.
“Yeah, I know the deal.” Joel’s voice is flat, resigned.
Whatever the deal is, it’s clear Joel doesn’t like it. I look towards Tyler, but he’s watching Joel too.
As I move to sit down, Declan stands up and blocks my way. I widen my eyes at him, not understanding. “Your turn next,” he says and his hand brushes against my chest and rests there for a few seconds. His meaning is clear. I try to wriggle round him and his eyes lock on to mine, eyebrows slightly raised. I don’t let my gaze leave his. I take a step towards him, slightly sideways and tread as hard as I can on his foot, pressing hard, eye to eye. I know it’s hurting and I know it’s a mistake. He doesn’t react, at least not outwardly, but the challenge in his eyes turns to something cold and hard. He removes his foot from under mine, turns and walks out.
I sit down next to Tyler. I’m not sure he saw what happened, not really.
I know I’ve made myself an enemy.
It’s getting late and the light is fading. I want out of here before Declan gets back. I prefer Tyler when he’s not with his mates. Joel’s splayed out, morose, across one of the seats, munching his way through a bag of jelly babies. The smell is sickly, the sound worse. Tyler reaches for his guitar again and seems keen to avoid eye contact or conversation. I check my watch.
“I need to be getting home soon,” I say.
Tyler keeps playing, as if he hasn’t heard me, then suddenly makes an aggressive strum of his fingers across the strings of his guitar and pushes it to one side.
“We can’t leave yet,” he says. “Why don’t you ring your mum and find out how it’s going at the hospital. If everything’s OK, then what’s the problem with staying?” His tone is almost harsh.
Joel stops chewing and watches us.
“No, I have to get back. I told you earlier.”
Tyler raises a shoulder. “Yeah – but still – what’s the rush?”
“If you must know, I don’t much want to stay here with Declan around.”
Tyler looks nervously at Joel. “Declan’s all right,” he says.
“Declan’s a dick.” I notice their anxious glances towards the door. “Oh, come on, it’s not as if he’s going to hear. He’s too busy with Becky.” I aim my last comment in Joel’s direction and he stares into his near-empty bag of sweets.
“It’s not what you think,” says Tyler.
I sigh loudly. All I want is to be alone with Tyler. When he’s with this lot he behaves like a dick too.
“Please take me home,” I say, taking his hand.
Tyler seems incapable of making a response. Instead he searches my eyes and I wonder if he’s trying to pass me a silent message. I indicate with a nod of my head towards the door, that it would be a good idea to leave right now. Surely he can see it would be easier for us to talk if we were away from here? He doesn’t move, just puts one hand on my leg as if to hold me in place. I stand up, frustrated, and walk out – straight into Declan.
“Going somewhere?” he asks.
I grip the doorway of the caravan. “Yes. Home.”
“Oh, really? And how are you planning on getting there?”
“Tyler’s taking me.”
Declan looks around as if searching for Tyler and smiles. “No need to trouble Tyler. I’m going back into town. I can give you a ride.” He makes it sound almost nice.
“Thanks, but don’t worry. Tyler’s already said he’ll take me.” I raise my voice to make sure Tyler hears.
“Shame,” says Declan, cupping my chin in his hand so I have to look at him. “You don’t know what you might be missing.”
I grab his wrist and pull his hand away.
He raises his eyebrows. I’m getting to recognize that look and to hate it. My heart pounds as I stand my ground.
Tyler’s voice comes from behind me. “It’s fine, I’m ready to take her.”
Declan gives a small, tight smile. “Didn’t you hear?” he says, not taking his eyes off me, “I’ve just said, I’ll take her.”
Tyler steps down from the caravan. The tension ratchets up a few notches. Declan starts clicking his fingers repeatedly in a slow rhythm, as if waiting to see what Tyler’s going to do.
“It was good to meet you,” I say to Declan, trying to divert his attention. I move slowly backwards towards the car, my eyes on Declan all the way.
The air simmers. I can feel the head of his gaze.
Quick as a flash, Tyler is in the driver’s seat. Declan laughs. “Next time then.” His voice is like thick treacle. “Since your boyfriend seems so keen.”
I get in beside Tyler and pull the door shut. I don’t rush. I don’t want Declan to see the panic inside.
Tyler starts the car and we leave, stopping only at the gate. He drives quickly and neither of us says a word. We’re way along the lane before I drop my shoulders from my ears and let my head flop back.
“So,” I say, “what was all that about?”
Tyler grips the steering wheel. “You shouldn’t have wound him up, it’s not a good idea.”
“Me, wind him up?”
“It’s just … you need to get to know him better.”
“I don’t want to get to know him better. How long have you known him for, anyway?”
“A while.”
“And you’re honestly telling me you like him?”
“He’s a good mate. He’s helped me out.”
I’d like to ask what with, but I decide now is not the time.
“What were you doing when Becky and I were in the barn?”
“Nothing. Talking. You know.”
The thing is, I don’t know and I’d like to know.
“You’re different when you’re around him,” I say.
“Yeah – well, it happens. You’re different too.”
The words trigger an echo in my head. The echo of a memory: of me telling Liam – shouting at Liam – that he was different when he was around Tyler. I chew the inside of my cheek.
“Did Liam know him?” I try to keep the question light.
In the long pause that follows, I watch Tyler’s face. I can see a nerve working in his jaw, tiny pulsing movements.
“Tyler?” I push him for an answer, sit forward in my seat.
“No. Liam never met Declan.”
I’m not sure I believe him. My imagination plays with possibilities. What if Liam had known Declan? I can’t see them being friends. Maybe that’s why he and Tyler were arguing. Maybe it’s got something to do wit
h what Liam was going to tell me.
I sigh. I’m being stupid.
“Declan’s a bully.” I say it as much to myself as to Tyler.
Tyler hardly speaks the rest of the way home. I’ve upset him, that’s obvious, but I’ll make it up to him when we get back to my place. I want to reach out and touch him, to make my peace. I do like him – I like him a lot. It’s Declan I don’t like.
We pull up outside the house.
“It’s OK, no one’s home,” I say. “You can come in.”
He shakes his head, not bothering to cut the ignition.
“Look, I’m sorry if I was out of order about Declan.”
“Forget it. Just don’t make trouble, that’s all. Please.”
I shrug. “So? Are you coming in or not?”
Tyler glances in the rear-view mirror. “I have to get going,” he says. “Another time maybe.”
I feel foolish and let down, but my mouth is working faster than my head.
“When will I see you?” I ask.
He glances behind him again, using the side mirror this time. I look back, but I can’t see anything.
“I don’t know. I don’t think this is such a good idea.”
I should get out, slam the door and walk, but brain and heart don’t seem to be connected. So nothing happens at all. It’s Tyler who breaks the silence.
“I’m sorry, Amber, I’m not very good at this. I’ll come and get you from work tomorrow – no, not tomorrow, Wednesday. What time do you finish?”
He seems desperate to get away and I refuse to make a total fool of myself.
“Don’t worry about it,” I say. “It’s not like you have to see me if you don’t want to.”
“I do want to. Wednesday. Tell me what time.”
I search for clues in his face, something to prove he’s not just stringing me along.
“I’ll be through by twelve. It’s a half day.”
“Fine,” he says. “Twelve it is. I’ll call you if anything changes.”
“OK.” I wait for him to lean over and kiss me goodbye, but he doesn’t move. I get out and push the door shut. I want to feel happy. I want to believe I’ll see him again.
I watch the red tail lights of his car until they’re pin-pricks at the end of our road.