by Maria Farrer
Only then do I realize I don’t have his number. I’ve never given him my number so I don’t know how he’ll call me. Unless he took it from my phone.
With a growing sense of disappointment, I let myself into the house. In the darkness, the answerphone flashes. I flick on the lights and run through the messages. Most are from friends of Gran’s and I save them.
Next message. 21.48. Monday, the automated voice of the system tells me. Not long ago. Dad’s voice crackles over the machine.
“I thought I told you to stay at home. What part of the word grounded do you not understand? I’ll be back tomorrow night. Mum is spending the night at the hospital. No mobiles allowed in intensive care so you won’t be able to contact her. Oh – and they’re hoping to have Gran back on high dependency in the next couple of days. If there’s a bed.”
I hate the way Dad updates me on Gran like an afterthought. Then there’s another voice in the background. A woman’s voice, it sounds like. Kind of teasing, seductive. Calling Dad’s name. The message breaks off. I listen to it again. Who is Dad with at 9.48 on a Monday night?
I think of how often he’s been away recently. I’m tempted to ring him. But that would be stupid. If I don’t ring, I can tell him I was asleep when he called. He can’t argue with that. I stare at the phone for a bit longer, wonder if Dad is sweating over his message. I listen to it again. I mustn’t jump to conclusions. For a third time, I play it, and then press delete. I pick up my things and walk upstairs. Would anyone really fancy Dad?
I glance at Liam’s door on the way past. What would he say about today, about Dad, about everything? I wander into my room, flop down on the bed and delve in my bag for Liam’s stone. I want to feel the weight of it in my hands. I want to feel close to him. Except it’s not in my bag. It’s gone.
Finders keepers, losers weepers. All night it sings in my head. Not sings exactly: chants – no, taunts, more like. In the irrational dark of half-sleep, I honestly believe that the stone has magical powers and, now it’s gone, all my luck will desert me – like Liam’s did him. I promised him I’d look after it, promised him I wouldn’t lose it. I couldn’t get it back to him on time. My dreams are terrible, breathless, frantic. Becky and Joel and Declan, but for some reason Declan is Dad.
I wake up sweating, with most of my duvet on the floor. It’s early, not even seven. I empty my bag on the floor, feel through pockets, search downstairs, then upstairs. I was tired last night– I might’ve missed it.
Luck – dreams – Dad – Gran. I decide I should ring Dad to tell him I was asleep when he called. Lies. My half-dreams stay with me and arriving at work without getting run over seems like a good result. I tell myself again and again that it’s only a stone. Still, there’s a tiny seed of doubt, enough to make me uneasy. I start to imagine pains in my chest.
It’s a long day – a double shift to cover for Simon. A new guy, Josh, has started on trial and it’s a pain supervising him as well as doing my own stuff. Luckily it’s not too busy; the cold of the last few weeks has finally given way to proper summer and people are making the most of it. Josh gets the hang of things pretty quickly and he’s good with the customers who do come in.
My mind is everywhere but on the job. I’ve backtracked through all my movements and the only place the stone can be is at Tyler’s. I wish I could ring him, but I don’t have his number. How stupid is that? Now I’ll have to wait until tomorrow. My need to see Tyler has turned into something else – something vital and urgent.
I leave the café at 5.30 and head towards the supermarket. I have no idea what time Dad will be back or if I need to get food for Mum. Dad and Mum. I’d never given much thought to their relationship before – not until last night. Were they happy before Liam died? Do they love each other at all?
Someone brushes heavily against my side and a hand slides around my upper arm. I recognize the smell more than anything: a mixture of too much aftershave, cigarettes and sweat. Declan is beside me, propelling me along. So, they’ve decided to surprise me again after work, have they? I search around for Tyler.
“He’s not here,” says Declan, as if reading my mind.
“Where is he, then?”
“You think I’d bring your boyfriend along? That’s not part of the deal.”
“What deal? What are you doing here?”
“I’ve come to give you a lift home. To make up for yesterday.”
The way he says it is heavy with meaning. I try to shake him off.
“I don’t need a lift home, thanks.”
“You might find you do. Have a little think about it.” He tightens his hand around my arm. I’m strangely calm. I’ve been prepared for disaster all day and now it’s here, it’s almost comforting– like it was meant to be. Declan is bigger than me and much stronger. I drag back, slowing down the speed of his walk while I try to think.
“Dad will be at home. He’s back this afternoon. I’m not allowed friends round at the moment.”
“Is that right? We’ll have to wait and see won’t we? Sounds like a bit of a bully, your dad.”
“It takes one to know one,” I mutter. Declan gives a dry laugh and pinches my arm harder.
“I’m not like Becky, if that’s what you think, so you can leave me alone.”
“No, you’re not, are you? That’s what I like about you.”
Towards the car park doors… I begin to believe he’s serious; I begin to panic. I need to get away from him, but he’s stronger than me by far. People avoid us; just another useless teenage couple having a row. Should I scream? Would anyone do anything then?
“Calm down,” he hisses in my ear. “I’m giving you a lift home. Just trying to be helpful. That’s ALL.”
Think, Amber. Think.
We’re nearly at the entrance. Once we’re in the car park, there’ll be fewer people. I need to do something now.
A uniform. A half-familiar face. I manage to catch his eye. He looks at me and smiles.
“Amber! It is Amber isn’t it?”
Declan’s grip has already loosened. “See ya,” he says, all friendly, and turns around, walking back the way we came.
The relief is overwhelming. My face is hot and flushed. I’m breathless.
“You probably don’t remember me, it’s PC Marsh.”
I nod. I can’t speak. I do remember him, of course I do.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to…” he says, looking over my shoulder. Declan has all but gone.
PC Marsh asks me how I’m doing.
“Good.” My voice seems to struggle out through a fog.
“Hot, isn’t it?” he says. “Not much going on in here today, I doubt.”
He’s jokey, friendly. I nod again. If only he knew.
He chats on for a bit longer, keeping the conversation vague, not mentioning Liam. “Well it’s nice to see you,” he finishes up. “Glad I bumped into you.”
Not half as glad as I am, I think.
We say our goodbyes and as soon as I’m round the corner, I run. I run straight on to a waiting bus. It’s not the right bus and it’s going in the wrong direction, but I don’t care. I need to get away from here, away from Declan. I wait for a couple of stops, then get off and take an alternative route home. What if Declan knows where I live? I should’ve said something to PC Marsh, but what? This boy, who I know, is offering to give me a lift home and I don’t trust him. It was hardly going to result in instant arrest. What did I really think Declan was going to do? When I see Dad’s car parked outside our house, I damn near celebrate. I never thought I’d be so pleased to see him.
“Dad?” I call, as soon as I’m in the door.
No answer. “Dad,” I call again.
I hear a kind of grunt and find him in the sitting room, his laptop open on his knees. He raises his head and glances at his watch. “You’re late,” he says and goes back to ta
pping on the keyboard.
“Bus problems,” I mumble as I try to blink back the tears. I so need a hug. I so need to talk to someone. Suddenly life feels very complex and I don’t know how to deal with it. I need Dad.
“There are some messages,” I say, “on the machine. I deleted yours.”
Dad looks at me for slightly too long and I wonder if we have an understanding.
He clears his throat. “I was working late,” he says, putting his laptop to one side and standing up. I follow him out to the kitchen where he looks around. “I thought you said you’d pick up some food for tonight.”
“I didn’t get the chance. I…”
“Excuses, excuses. That’s all it is with you. Anyway, I’m off to join Mum at the hospital. I’ll get something there.”
“No!” It comes out loud and desperate. “I mean, can’t I come?”
“We’ve talked about this already.”
“I know. But I could just sit in the waiting room.”
“Don’t be silly. If you’re bored, I can find plenty to keep you occupied.”
I stare up at the ceiling. I hate him. I hate Mum and Gran too. “Why won’t she see me? I’ve said I’m sorry.”
I trail behind him into the hall where he picks up his wallet and keys.
“Dad. Please. Don’t leave me alone tonight.”
“Your mum needs me, Amber. You know that. It’s hard for her supporting her mother through all this. A lot of stress.”
I hang my head, the weight of blame sitting like a rock inside me. I hear him open the door, close it behind him and then I sit down on the bottom stair. The emptiness of the house threatens to swallow me up. I need help. I need support. I need intensive care.
But nobody notices.
For the second night in a row I am scared. I still haven’t found the stone and tonight my fear has a shape and the shape is Declan.
Twelve o’clock. I’m sure that’s what we arranged. All morning, my stomach has been churning and I’ve been driving Cathy demented with my uselessness. 12.00 passes, then 12.15. Nervous humming turns to disappointment, frustration, then anger. By 12.30, it’s obvious I’ve been stood up. Still, I don’t leave the café because I have to see him. I have to see Tyler. I need to ask him about Liam’s stone and I’m determined to find out what he knows about Declan’s visit yesterday. Worse than that, I want to see him. I pretend I don’t, but I do.
Last night I lay awake in the darkness until Dad arrived home. Thoughts of Tyler, Declan, Joel and Becky zigzagged in my head, making me restless and confused. I began to wonder if Declan’s nastiness was in my imagination. Still I couldn’t sleep until I knew Dad was back home and I wasn’t alone. He dropped me at work again this morning and walked with me to the café – Mum had asked him to check everything was all right, apparently. He was checking up on me, more like, but today I was glad. Now I’m scared to leave the café by myself in case I’m jumped by Declan again. I check my phone a hundred times to see if there is a message from Tyler. I keep finding little jobs to delay leaving.
“What are you doing, Amber? It’s your afternoon off. Go home!” Cathy smiles at me.
Outside, it’s an airless, humid day and the material of my shirt sticks to my skin and seems to suck the energy out of me. On the spur of the moment, I send a text to Kelly. I don’t know why I didn’t think of it before.
Tyler’s number? Have left something at his place.
Her answer pings back straight away.
Sorry don’t have it. BTW nice seeing Simon again!
Don’t have it? I close my eyes and shake my head. He must’ve told her not to give it to me. I read the message again. Seeing Simon’s name makes things worse still. This is stupid. Life is stupid. All of it. I take a deep breath and march out of the café to the bus stop. My eyes are everywhere, wanting to find Tyler, not wanting to see Declan. All the way home, I keep a lookout for Tyler’s car, but I know I’m grasping at straws. I rub my neck, where the stone should be. Seems the luck has well and truly run out. I try to be sensible and grown-up. I won’t let myself cry, however desperate I feel.
The house is a sauna and I fling the windows wide open. It makes no difference, there’s not even a hint of a breeze. Everything happens in slow motion when you’re miserable and hot. Minutes stretch out with nothing to fill them. Sounds are dampened. I decide a cool shower is the only answer, though even that takes enormous effort. A cool shower then I’ll lie on my bed. Perhaps I’ll sleep. It’s as good a plan as any. I can’t think of anything else to do.
In the bathroom, I peel the clothes from my skin and chuck them in a limp pile in the corner. The water is shockingly cold, tingling, almost numbing. I force myself to stand under it until I’m shivering.
Bloody Tyler.
As I step out, the phone starts ringing. I grab my towel, fling it round me and run downstairs. I pick up. “Hello.” Please let it be him. “Hello?” There’s silence at the other end.
“Hello-o?” I say a final time. It must be a hoax call or Mum trying to call from the hospital with a dodgy signal. I give it another couple of seconds, my sopping wet hair dripping on to the phone and making a small puddle on the floor. I wipe the phone against my towel and put it down. I guess whoever it was will probably ring again in a minute, so I wander into the kitchen.
I don’t get it at first – I can’t actually believe what I’m seeing. Then I full-on freak out. Tyler is there with Declan and Joel – all three of them standing in my kitchen.
“What are you doing? How did you get in here?” I’m furious and embarrassed, conscious of my dripping hair and my nakedness under the towel.
They hardly react at all – except the way Declan looks at me makes me pull my towel tighter. He nods towards the window. “You need to take care with leaving windows open.”
“Like it’s normal to climb in people’s windows? Most people ring the doorbell.” I don’t try to hide my anger. My heart is almost busting out of my ribcage.
“We only did it for a laugh,” says Tyler.
“Well it’s not funny.”
“I said I’d see you after work.”
“You said you’d pick me up from work, actually.”
“Did I?”
“Alone,” I add, though I’m not sure we ever discussed this.
“Well, I’ve come to pick you up now.”
Declan flips his phone from one hand to the other and I have a strong suspicion it was him who made the call, that they’ve been spying on me, that this is all staged in some way. I do not want Declan in my kitchen. I don’t want him anywhere near me.
Declan and Joel lounge against the kitchen sides as if they own the place and I’m the intruder. I want to tell them to get out. Tyler hovers, as if unsure what to do.
“Aren’t you going to offer us a drink?” asks Declan.
“No. I’m going upstairs to put some clothes on.”
“How disappointing.” I’m not sure if he means the drink or the clothes, but either way I loathe him more than ever.
“And, in the meantime, you can all leave. Tyler will show you where to find the door. It’s so much easier to use than a window.”
“Very witty,” says Declan and he starts opening cupboards until he finds a glass, then pours himself some water. He raises his glass to me and drinks it down.
I catch Tyler’s eye, but he won’t hold mine. “We’re going to the park. We thought you’d like to come with us,” he mumbles.
We? I don’t like this we. “I don’t feel like going to the park. It’s too hot.”
“Oooh. I don’t feel like going to the park,” Declan parrots back at me. “Will Daddy be home soon to check up on you?”
Blood rushes to my cheeks and I hate myself for it.
“And Becky’s sick,” says Joel, “so we need your help.”
“Becky?” I
look at all three of them in turn. Joel looks awkward and Tyler looks anywhere but me, so I let my gaze rest on Declan. “What’s wrong with Becky?”
“A bad cold,” he says.
“And you need my help for a bad cold?”
Declan laughs. “That’s funny, that’s really funny.” He hoists himself up so he’s sitting next to the sink. “We don’t need your help looking after Becky. We need you to come and take her place, so to speak.”
“Are you kidding me?” An image of Becky with her button undone comes into my head. The memory of Declan yesterday. I pull my towel tighter still. Not me. I’m not going there.
I think Tyler must read my thoughts. “We need an extra pair of hands, that’s all. It’s not much.” I sense he’s trying to keep his voice gentle and relaxed. He’s doing a good job of hiding the tension – but not quite good enough.
“What for?” I ask.
Declan folds his arms and smiles. “You’ve proved you’re a girl who knows her own mind. Don’t you think it’s time you showed your parents they can’t push you around? It’s your life. That’s why we’d like you to join us.”
His eyes challenge and dare me at the same time.
“Join you?” I say. I just need to buy time while I work out what to do.
“Come on,” says Joel. “It’s a lovely day.”
I don’t like the way Declan is looking at me. Does Tyler know, I wonder? About yesterday?
“I thought we had a date,” I say to Tyler. “Standing in for Becky isn’t exactly what I had in mind.”
Tyler doesn’t respond and the atmosphere in the kitchen has changed.
Declan’s drawn himself up on the side so he’s sitting very tall and he leans forward slightly – overbearing and overpowering. “We’re not asking you to come,” he says, “we’re telling you. It’s not an option. Now be a good girl and do as you’re told.” His voice is threatening; everything about him is threatening.
“Fuck off,” I say. I know it’s a mistake before the words hit the air.