The Carbon Diaries 2015

by Saci Lloyd

  Tues., Sept. 29

  Oh, God. I’ve just found out it’s parents’ evening in 4 weeks’ time. Got to keep them away; if they find out about my results it’ll be instant death. Mind you it’s not like they’re noticing me at all. Mum’s completely obsessed with her workshops and Dad’s become desperate to get a job. He’s gone right through his severance pay.

  He sat down with me and Kim at dinner. “Don’t worry, we’ll be fine. I’ve got an interview coming up for delivering fruit and vegetables.”

  Kim put her fork down. “What d’you have to do in the interview—juggle melons?”

  Dad glanced up. “Very funny. Actually this is a bit different—it’s with a horse and—”

  She cut in. “Please. Enough. Anyway, I’m bringing in some money now, so I can help out.”

  “You?”

  “Yes, Dad. Me.”

  “But I can’t take money from—”

  Kim snatched up her keys and turned to the door. “Yes, you can. See ya!”

  I glanced across at him. He’d gone all pale. Poor old Dad.

  Anyway, all I need to do is get thru the retests in January, then everything’ll be cool.

  Wed., Sept. 30

  Aargh, aargh, aargh. Got to focus on my Energy Saver homework, but all I do is think about Ravi. Got to stop giving him so much power. Miserable cold rainy weather. Can’t even remember being warm anymore.

  Carbon Rations vote in Europe in 2 weeks. They better do it or I’ll kill them.

  October

  Thurs., Oct. 1

  Kim and Kier have taken over the whole upstairs of the house cos his flat is freezing after he’s used so many points on traveling around London and running date nights. I squeezed past him on my way to the bathroom this morning.

  “So, how’s it going?”

  Kieran waved a stack of paper. “S’unbelievable. I think I might be on the verge of a nervous breakdown with it all—there’s just so much to do. We’re running three venues now on four different nights. We’re turning into a . . .”—he frowned—“what’s the word—a . . . a franchise.”

  “Like Starbucks?”

  “Don’t get cute with me, young lady. Carbon Dating is a vision, a tool of change.”

  “Is that what these are all about?” I nodded toward a stack of books spread across Kim’s floor. They had titles like Mystic Money and Positive Dreamer. The top one had a guy with an orange tan and a wig holding out a golden key. Unlock the Dynamic You.

  “Nice wig,” I giggled.

  “He makes a lot of sense.”

  “He makes a lot of money.”

  “Well, maybe we’re going to make a lot of money—we’re already Londonwide and looking to branch out to Manchester, Brighton, Birmingham . . .”

  “Is that what you went into this for?”

  “No,” replied Kieran, sulkily. “You know why I did it—but it’s nice to be . . . successful for once. Your sister’s dead good at marketing and stuff, y’know? Please don’t knock it.”

  “Okay.”

  “Hmm. Anyway, how’s it going with that cute boy?”

  “Dunno.”

  “What? I thought you were getting on really well.”

  “To be honest, Kier, I’ve got so much else going on right now that Ravi Datta’s not a real big deal.”

  Kieran gave me a long look. “You know best. Maybe you should get down to one of our nights—plenty of hot boys for you down there. Not that that’s what it’s all about,” he added quickly. “It’s just a safe space for people to explore their new identity—Ow!” He sucked his finger. “Damn paper cut.”

  I hung around and helped out for the rest of the morning, and the whole time Kieran was banging on about his plans and his great future. After he left I felt a bit sad, I think I don’t like him half as much as when he was all skinny and sad and funny.

  Dad got the horse and cart job.

  Fri., Oct. 2

  I finally caught up with Ravi in school. I had to run after him down the hall.

  “Can you please tell me what’s going on? You’re acting like you don’t know me.”

  He glanced around the packed corridor. “Look this ain’t the time . . .”

  “What’s so bad you can’t say it right now?”

  “Fine. You wanna do this here?”

  I took in a sharp breath. “Are you breaking up with me?”

  “No. C’mere . . .” He pushed open an empty classroom door and went inside. I followed and leaned against the door, completely cold.

  “Laura, it’s not you . . .”

  “Oh, Jesus! Please don’t do that it’s not you bullshit. Of course it’s me. If you wanna break up, then at least be straight.”

  He looked down. “I am being straight. I got the scholarship.”

  “That’s so cool—but you’re not going yet, right?”

  “Well . . . they’re doing an accelerated program. I start in three weeks.”

  “Three weeks? When were you gonna tell me?”

  “I only just found out, Laur. But, anyway, with everything that’s going on it don’t feel right to be kissing and holding hands and all that shit. What’s the point . . .? I mean, what future is there for any of us?”

  “So you wanted to finish, anyway? Cos there’s no future? Give me a break!”

  I gazed around the room, numb—and that’s when I realized I was in the Food Technology room. Oh, the shame, to be broken up with surrounded by aprons.

  “You coward!”

  A tray of cooling rock cakes caught my eye.

  An hour later, I was in the park with Adi.

  “What, the whole tray?” he asked.

  “Yeah. One by one.”

  He let out a low whistle. “Nice work, girl. Those rock cakes are some solid shit.”

  I kicked a Coke can into the bushes. “Too right, Adi. What a loser.”

  He looked at me for a long moment. “I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t.” I held up a hand. “Let’s just change the subject.”

  5 A.M. Can’t sleep, been crying all night. I hate Ravi Datta so much. And you know why? Cos he’s got no hope and now I’m scared I haven’t got any, either. That I’m just acting out a part and I know there’s no future for any of us.

  Sat., Oct. 3

  Got up early and saw the college parents’ evening invitation on the mat. Threw it straight into the trash. Dad started his new job today, delivering fruit and vegetables on a horse and cart around Blackheath. He came home this evening and they’d paid him in cash and a box of cabbages.

  I think it’s better he stays away from school now he’s turned into a simpleton.

  Mon., Oct. 5

  Band practice tonight and Claire had big news. An A&R guy from PoleCat Records has called her cos he’s d-loaded death to capitalist scum and he loves it.

  “Who?” asked Adi.

  “PoleCat—they got Deadog, Slasher 6, Grrrrrr, and Cheapgirl.”

  Stace gasped. “A deal?”

  “Don’t know yet.”

  “When will you?”

  “When he gets back. He said he was going on holiday and taking a bunch of music with him . . .”

  We stared at each other in pure excitement.

  “Oh, my, God,” cried Stace. “We could really make it!”

  But Claire shook her head. “I can’t let myself . . . it’s too much.”

  “I need something to keep me going.”

  “Huh!” She punched me on the arm. “You’ll be over that loser in no time. You’re a dirty angel!”

  When I got home I lay in bed and played music for hours, my heart beating like a big drum. RD can go to hell.

  Wed., Oct. 7

  Mrs. Datta has walked out on Mr. Datta! They had this monster fight in the street, which ended in her screaming: “That’s it, Mister. I quit!” and 10 minutes later she was hauling a battered old suitcase out thru the front door. She caught me looking from the bedroom window.

  “Men are all bastards, Laura!” T
here was a pause while someone said something from inside the house.

  “Yes, that does include you, Ravi!” she shouted, setting off down the road.

  God it was so good to listen to someone else’s meltdown for a change.

  Don’t believe what’s just happened—Adi just called and went: “So what we doing?”

  “Uh, when?”

  “Tomorrow.”

  “Tomorrow . . . nothing, why?”

  “Cos it’s your birthday an’ all.”

  “Jesus, Ad, I totally forgot.”

  “Jesus is right. I’ll call for you at 6.”

  “But I haven’t got anything left on my card to go out this month.”

  “Then we’ll go low.” He locked off.

  I feel shaky. If you’d told me a year ago that I’d forget my own birthday I’d’ve just laughed in your face.

  Thurs., Oct. 8

  Happy birthday to me.

  Mum took me out for lunch in some weird vegetarian canteen in Blackheath. She was very, very cheerful. Breakdown time, folks.

  “Well, this is nice. Just me and you!” She laughed, waving a piece of tofu at me.

  “Yeah, I guess.”

  She squeezed my hand.

  “It’s going to be okay. I wish we were all celebrating together, but I think we just need some time apart. My therapist says I need time to center myself before I can function again as a mother figure.”

  I smiled.

  I lay in bed all afternoon with the rain falling on the window and felt dead sad. He didn’t even try to call me or anything. When Adi came around, he took one look at my face and basically dragged my jacket on and marched me out of the house.

  “Can’t face anyone,” I mumbled.

  We walked down to the river in the rain and sat and drank vodka; watching the Woolwich ferry come and go.

  After a bit, Adi sighed. “Well it makes two of us, anyway.”

  “What d’you mean?”

  “I’ve broken with Sarah.”

  “But why? I thought you were so good together,” I gasped.

  “Dunno. Just.”

  I stared at him. “That’s it? Two years and dunno, just?”

  He clinked the vodka bottle against a bit of bridge.

  “Yep. Move on.”

  “Wow. I think it’s gonna take me a long time to get over Rav, I mean—”

  “Can you do me a favor and stop talking about that loser for one minute?”

  I turned and caught a really strange expression on his face—before he changed it to a smile. “Happy birthday, Laura. Here’s to changes. . . .”

  Fri., Oct. 9

  Can’t be definite, but thought I just saw Elise Penatata from the Carbon Dept. go up the Leaders’ stairwell. She’s got some guts that woman.

  Sat., Oct. 10

  Our house is insane. Dad’s got brochures for pig farms all over the kitchen, meanwhile the Carbon Dating stuff is spreading like a virus over the hallway, the stairs, the landing. You can’t move for flyers and leaflets. I pushed past Kieran on the stairs and slipped on a pile of registration forms.

  “Jesus, Kier. Can’t you clean this shit up?”

  He frowned. “This is Kim’s stuff actually, but I haven’t seen her since yesterday.”

  “Were you meant to?”

  “Yeah, sure. We were supposed to hook up this morning, but she didn’t show. . . . She said something last night about going to see her friend Fiona, said she needed a break.”

  Sun., Oct. 11

  This morning I found an envelope on the mat with my name on it. I tore it open and inside was a tiny angel wired up out of little bits of circuit and copper wire. I gasped—she was just so beautiful. There was a piece of ripped-up graph paper in the envelope. Happy birthday. Sorry. I’m such a mess up. R.

  Kim still not back, bit weird.

  Mon., Oct. 12

  I looked for Rav to say thanks, but he wasn’t in school.

  Tues., Oct. 13

  I’m worried about Kim. I guess she’s fine, but it’s just strange that she disappeared after that Elise Penatata went up to see the Leaders. I’ve called her about 5 times, but no answer. I wanna talk to Adi, but he’s not picking up, either.

  Wed., Oct. 14

  Still no Kim. Kieran’s going mad, keeps pacing up and down the hallway muttering, “We’ve got so much to do! What’s she playing at?” He’s so selfish sometimes. Doesn’t even think that she might be in trouble.

  I went for a long, long walk and worked out there was only one thing to do. So this evening I climbed up the estate stairwell and knocked on Tracey Leader’s front door. After a few moments, Delaney stuck his head out of an upstairs window.

  “Wot?”

  “Is Tracey in?”

  “Wossit to you?”

  Suddenly the front door opened and Conrad stood there.

  “C’min. My sister wants a word wiv ya.”

  I took a deep breath, maybe my last ever, and followed Conrad thru into the kitchen. Talk about a Carbon Den of Sin. The place was massive, sort of 3 apartments knocked into one—and they had like 5 PlayStations, a popcorn maker, 50 halogen spots, a massive projector TV, a movie surround system, and a ski treadmill machine—all humming away at the same time. In the middle of it all sat 5 massive Supersize-me Leader girls eating kebabs on a curved black leather sofa. The treadmill was just for show, evidently.

  Tracey turned.

  “Ah, Laura innit . . . where’s that sister of yours? I bin lookin’ for her.”

  I was so surprised I just stood there for a minute. “But . . . that’s what I came to ask you.”

  Tracey frowned. “Why would I know if you don’t?”

  “Because . . . y’know . . .”

  She levered herself up out of the couch.

  “Nah, I don’t know as it ’appens. Why don’t you tell me?”

  I looked down at my trainers. “I know about the carbon—”

  Suddenly I was being pushed back onto the sofa. Fighting down panic, I kept my voice level. “Look, I’m sorry, but I just want to know my sister’s okay. . . . I haven’t said anything to anyone—and I’m not going—”

  “Too right,” spat Tracey. “I’ve already had that government woman nosing around. I bet it was something to do wiv youse.” She lifted her fist.

  “Look, leave it out, Trace!”

  “Wot?”

  “Leave ’er alone.”

  Out of the corner of my eye I saw a size-24 Leader moving toward me.

  Tracey whirled around. “Are youse jokin’, Chelsea? This little girl gotta learn who she’s dealin’ wiv.”

  “I says leave it, Trace. It’s just nuffin’ I s’pose, she prob’ly don’t remember . . . but I was at school same time as Laura, ’fore I ’ad Clinton last year. Well, one lunchtime, right, the Mackanallys has me cornered in the bogs and Laura ’ere comes in and . . . sticks up for me. Stopped Debby Mackanally from rubbin’ chips in me ’air.”

  All 5 sets of Leader eyebrows nearly flew upward off their foreheads.

  “Wot? Wot? You let a Mackanally do that to ya? Shame on you, girl,” growled Tracey. She turned back to me. “Issis true?”

  I looked up at Chelsea, trying to recognize her.

  “Yeah, well, I remember, all right,” Chelsea continued. “It was a couple of years ago an’ I wos a bit finner in them days. You was proper good to me. So leave it out, eh, Trace?”

  Tracey turned and gave me a long, low stare. “All right, if you helped a Leader out we’ll let it slide. But, no more questions—and when you see that sister of yours, send her down to see me. Know your way out, then?” Tracey’s eyes flicked toward the door.

  I nodded.

  “Oi, Laura!”

  I paused at the doorway.

  “Is that your pig?”

  “Well, yeah, I mean, he’s Dad’s.”

  “Bleed like a waterfall when you kill ’em, pigs.”

  The blood drained from my face. “You wouldn’t . . .”

  Trace
y smiled. “Me? Wouldn’t hurt a fly. See ya.”

  I sat on our garden bench in the drizzle for ages, trying to figure it all out. I kind of believed Tracey when she said she hadn’t seen Kim. Don’t know why. But where is Kim? I can’t wait much longer. . . . And thru everything I kept getting this image of gallons of Larkin’s blood oozing out into a big pool.

  A flashlight beam flickered over the bench. Arthur’s voice. “Laura—is that you?”

  I couldn’t trust myself to look up at him. There was a long pause, and then he lowered himself gently onto the bench next to me. He didn’t say anything, just sat there quiet—much better than words.

  “Sorry,” I sniffled.

  He flipped open a pack of Senior Service and offered it to me. “Very soothing.”

  I took one and sparked up. It tasted like the inside of a cheap coffin.

  “It’s my sister, Kim. I think she’s in trouble . . . and I’m not sure what to do.”

  He closed his eyes. “Start from the beginning and tell me everything.”

  And so I did.

  “Hmmm,” said Arthur eventually.

  “Say something, please!” I whispered. “Is it that bad?”

  “Well, this is a pretty pickle, and no mistake. I really think you should tell your parents.”

  I shook my head. “I don’t know if that’s the right thing . . . and then there’s Lar—”

  “Who?”

  “Nobody.”

  “Were you going to say Larkin?”

  I nodded miserably. “Tracey Leader’s threatened to cut his throat if I tell anyone about what’s been going on. She’ll do it, too.”

  “Good Lord, these Leaders are a rough crowd. They’ve got a certain style, though. . . .” He narrowed his eyes appreciatively. “How deeply is Kim involved, d’you think?”

  “I don’t know for sure. She’s been trying to get out of it—and I think Tracey’d kept her kind of distant from the real dirty stuff. I reckon Kim was more of an introducer, y’know—a nice girl who could fix things up for you. But now Carbon Dating’s really taking off I reckon Tracey’s going mad cos Kim’s getting away from her. But it seems weird that this all kicked off when Elise Penatata went to the estate.”