Hanging in the Mist

by Lancett, Peter;

  I asked her if the others were wearing girls’ knickers and she laughed and said she didn’t know. But she kept on at me to try hers on. And in the end, I did. I don’t really know why. I think it must have been all that vodka. But I took me jeans off and took me boxers off, and I wasn’t embarrassed like I had been getting undressed in front of me sister, even though Lindsay was watching. And I took that thong from her and I put it on.

  I suppose it doesn’t matter, just talking into this recorder thing, so I’ll admit it; it felt really good. No, I mean it. You should try it if you don’t believe me. While Lindsay put me boxers on, I got up off the bed and looked at meself in the mirror. I couldn’t stop staring. With the black and white make up Lindsay had put on me, and the lacy underwear, I couldn’t even recognise that it was me. And because I am so pale and thin, I realised that what Lindsay had said earlier was true. I could easily be a girl.

  That was when the bedroom door opened and Letisha was standing there saying, “What’s keeping you two?” And then she just stood looking at us for a few seconds. Then she burst out laughing. “Hey, come and have a look at this!” she shouted.

  I said, “No! It’s not what you think!” But pretty soon, everyone was piled into that bedroom and laughing and taking the piss. And after a while, even I realised that it was pretty stupid trying to cover meself up with just me hands and I started laughing as well. Cos the funny thing was, I could tell that they weren’t laughing at me, if you know what I mean. They were just laughing because it was a ridiculous sight, seeing me dressed in Lindsay’s undies like that.

  And then Carrie said, “Hey, we should all do it.” So next thing you know, everyone is swapping their undies, except for Dave, who was too zonked out with vodka and blow to really know where he was. And Danny took out his phone and started taking pictures of all of us. And we were all posing, taking the piss out of fashion models and that. And we drank some more and listened to more music. And we just had a fucking great time.

  CHAPTER 6

  It was way after eleven o’ clock when we all piled out of Letisha’s place that night. We had to walk down the stairs and some of the landings were pitch black where the lights weren’t working. It was pretty tricky, cos we’d all been drinking a lot and the rest of them had been doing weed, and we virtually had to carry Dave, cos he was so wasted. But we did make it to the bottom safe enough in the end.

  Outside it was cold, and there was a real fog so that you couldn’t see more than twenty yards. The streetlights stood out like orange blobs just hanging there in the grey mist. It made everything seem dead quiet and even the cars sounded like they were miles away and not zooming down the dual carriageway on the edge of the estate.

  Now this was my estate, remember, and none of the others lived here, so we were going to have to split up now. And you know, I was dead broken up about that inside. I remember thinking that maybe it would be cool to be a Goth and hang out with them all the time.

  Josh said, “One last fag before we all head off?” and I said yeah and how I’d get some of them clove fags so we could smoke mine next time. And Dave stirred at that and said, “Who says there’s going to be a next time?”

  The atmosphere between us was suddenly colder than the fog and nobody said anything at first. But finally Lindsay says, “Ignore him, he’s just wrecked,” and everyone says yeah and what a good night it’s been and that, and how we should get together again. And then Dave was sick, right there where he stood. He just bent over and puked. And while it was disgusting, we all couldn’t help but laugh while we watched him.

  Then the others all headed off home, and I stood and watched them. Just before they got swallowed up by the fog, Lindsay turned and waved and blew me a kiss. And it sent shivers running all through me. And then they were gone, though I could still hear their footsteps and the murmur of their voices and the occasional laugh.

  I stood where I was, listening, until I couldn’t hear them anymore. And then I turned and began me walk through the tower blocks, rising like black giants into the grey night air. I looked at me reflection in a shop window, beyond the shutters, and there was traces of make up, even though I thought I’d washed off the stuff that Lindsay had put on.

  Lindsay. She’s cute. And all I could think of was us lying on Letisha’s bed, wearing each other’s undies and just talking and kissing. Let me say right now, since it doesn’t matter anymore, I hadn’t been much of a guy with girls. I mean I like girls and all that and I ain’t queer or anything. It’s just that I’ve never had a girlfriend or nothing apart from Sharlene, and as I said that didn’t end well. Loads of the other boys at school have, and when I hear them talking about what they’ve done, I’ve always been dead jealous. And especially when I see boys who’ve got steady girlfriends. I’d love to have a girlfriend. But I just don’t know how to go about that now. I’ve never really known how to talk to girls like that, you know, to ask em out. I don’t know what to say. And what if they say no?

  But anyway, talking with Lindsay and kissing her and all that, and hanging around with all of them, it felt like I’d got some real friends. And walking back home, I can remember thinking that the way it was with Lindsay, well, that’s what it must be like to have a girlfriend. A proper girlfriend.

  Friends. Girlfriends. Just what the fuck was I thinking. I’ve never had either. And I should have known better right then. Maybe if that kid hadn’t run out of the fog and banged right into me, scaring me shitless and sending both of us flying, I would have realised that. But this kid did do just that. And when we picked ourselves up, with a lot of swearing and threatening on my part, I realised that it was Jimmy Warnock, a kid who lives in our tower block a few floors lower down than us. Jimmy’s twelve and he’s a bit of a tear-arse and always in trouble, so me swearing and threats had no effect on him; he just stood there, facing me out.

  “Where’ve you been?” he asked me right out. I told him it was none of his fucking business. Then he asked me if I’d got any fags. Well of course I hadn’t and I told him to just go nick some off his mum and he said he’d tried but she’d caught him with the packet and smacked him on the head until he’d had to run out of the flat. His mum’s a bit rough and with loads of tattoos and that, and I’d have run a mile if she was after me.

  Then he must have noticed me hands, cos he points at them and says, “What’s that on yer fingers? Are yer turning into a girl or summat?”

  I held me hands out in front of me and looked down at them. I hadn’t washed that black nail varnish off and that’s what Jimmy had seen. I must have been so pissed and concentrating on getting the make up off me face that I’d forgotten all about the stuff on me nails.

  I told Jimmy to fuck off, and kicked out at him so that he ran out of reach. He was just in sight in the thick fog, and he was shouting back at me, “You’re a nancy boy you are. You’re gay.” And just like a kid, he just kept shouting it and laughing and there was no malice in it, but it was just dead annoying. And he knew that it was, because although I chased after him a couple of times, he always stayed out of reach and he kept coming back, taunting, and you could hear the laughter in his voice so you knew that, to him, this was just the best kind of fun he could think of having at this moment.

  In the end, I gave up and turned to head for home. Jimmy stayed just far enough out of reach, following behind me, catcalling all the while, until he finally tired of me lack of response and he was gone, fuck knows where, into the fog and the dark. All the same, during the short walk back to our block, it made me think, what Jimmy had been saying. Not about being gay. God, I knew I wasn’t a queer or anything like that. No, what I mean is, it made me think about what it had felt like, having that make up on, and wearing Lindsay’s undies. I can say it here, cos like I said, nothing matters anymore. But what I ended up thinking was that it felt pretty good wearing em. And I liked how I looked when I saw meself in the mirror like that. Now I remember telling meself it was probably cos I was pissed and all that. But I can
remember thinking as I got back to our block, and even as I was pressing the buttons for the lift – which in our block was working – that it felt dirty thinking like that. All the same, I couldn’t stop thinking about it.

  When I got to our flat, I let meself in. Bastards one and two were both on the sofa watching the telly. I could see the half empty booze bottles on the laminated coffee table in front of them and I could see the glass bong as well, so I had a fair idea what condition they were in. At least they were dressed though.

  “Is that you babes?” me mum slurred out without even turning to look. The other bastard was spark out beside her but he stirred then and turned, and I suppose he must have seen me through his squinting eyes.

  “Yeah,” he says, “he’s back.”

  “Come over here babes,” me mum says. “Come on. I’m dead sorry for what happened. You know I wouldn’t hurt yer on purpose.”

  Well I did walk over and stood between them and the telly and I got a kick out of being in his way and him trying to watch it around me.

  “Yer know that, don’t yer babe? That I wouldn’t hurt yer on purpose?”

  I have to say, she was dead pathetic, lying back there all stoned and pissed and I knew she was right, but all I could say was, “Well you did hurt me. That was a bastard trick.”

  And then he chirps up, “We’ll get them tools back for yer. And we’ll get some more. Promise. We’d forgot you needed em. It was just a mistake that’s all.”

  It was like he was pleading and it was so pathetic cos I knew it was a lie, like all the others I’d had to listen to over the years. But I didn’t shout at him or anything. I’d done me shouting earlier. And besides, I was still a bit pissed from all the vodka and blacks at Letisha’s place, so all I did was shake me head.

  Then he noticed me hands. His mouth dropped open and he was sort of pointing at them. “Have you got nail varnish on?” he asked. “Look, look at that,” he says, turning to me mum. “He’s got bloody nail varnish on.”

  “Have yer babes?” she asks in that moronic space cadet drawl. “Have you been experimenting babes, finding out who you are and that?”

  What the fuck all that was about I don’t know. But she does watch tons of daytime telly and all I can think is she was just coming out with bollocks she’s seen on Trisha or them American shows, where all kinds of freakazoids tell their secrets to the world just for the chance of being on the telly. I must have put me hands behind me back because she says, “Don’t be ashamed babes. Let me see. It’s cool that you want to find yerself. Better than bottling it all up inside. C’mon, let me see.”

  I could feel the blood colouring me cheeks and I felt hot.

  “Wot’s that around yer eyes,” he then chips in, and he’s leaning forward to look close all of a sudden. “Bloody hell, it’s eye liner. He’s got bloody eye liner on!” Then the bastard is laughing. “He thinks he’s Alice Cooper!”

  Obviously in me pissed up state, I hadn’t made a good job of taking that make up off. And he’s lying there now, pointing and laughing at his own joke.

  But she isn’t laughing. “You know you can talk to me about it, don’t yer babes?” And there’s that concerned mother face, the one she likes to put on when she thinks she has to be ‘caring’. “I’ll even help you, you know, show you how to put your make up on and that.” Well this was fucking rich since half the time she was so stoned that when she put her own on she looked like a fucking circus clown. “And if you – you know – want to try on any of me stuff, I’ll always help you.”

  She wasn’t joking either. She was dead hippy-fucking-serious about it. In that less-than-a-minute, she’d convinced herself that I was trying to be a girl. Fucking crack head bastard! What’s more, it sounded like there was nothing she’d like better than for that to be true.

  Then she says, “We can go shopping together if you like, I can help you choose stuff that really suits you. I still love yer babes, no matter what.”

  To be honest, I don’t know if she said anything else because I just made a dash for me room and slammed the door behind me. I lay on top of me bed and didn’t try to get undressed. And I couldn’t sleep, even though when I’m pissed like that I can usually fall asleep right away. I was thinking of the whole night with Dave and Danny and Josh and Carrie and Lindsay, over at Letisha’s place. Especially I was thinking about Lindsay. And then I realised that we hadn’t arranged to meet up again, and I remembered what Dave had said about there not being a next time and that. But I wanted there to be a next time. So I planned on just trying to hang out with them a bit at school after the weekend. And I’d get some of them clove fags in the meantime. And if I had to be a fully-fledged Goth, then what the fuck – it wasn’t like I had any other mates to hang out with. Why the fuck not?

  At the same time though – and I remember this dead clear – I was lying there and thinking how much I’d liked wearing Lindsay’s undies and how I was a bit worried about how much I’d liked it. And I must have fell asleep telling meself that it had only been because I was pissed. But there was more to it than that.

  CHAPTER 7

  So next day was Saturday. I got up dead early as usual to go to work at the abbatoir. I scrubbed all that stuff off me nails and I was feeling like shit and probably still a bit pissed from the vodka the night before.

  It was a crap day and I hate working in that place. The stink of it nearly made me chuck up a few times, with all that blood and guts and stuff, and all the foul muck that comes out of the innards, and the blokes who work there and all their filthy habits. I could never work in a place like that full time. But looking at the blood I couldn’t help thinking of the night before and how Goths were into Dracula and blood and that. Blood of the Prince. Well I couldn’t see how any of em would want to drink the stinking slops that washed around the floor of that place.

  Still, I got through the day, with the blokes all taking the piss out of how wrecked I looked, and at least I walked out with me pay in me pocket. It was cold and already dark when I finished, but at least it wasn’t raining or foggy. And I decided to walk home, through the town. It was still pretty busy cos the shops were all still open and it was like the lights were sort of calling you to come inside where it was warm and bright. I wasn’t in any great mood to go home, so I wandered in and out of some of the bigger shops.

  I wasn’t really looking for anything, just passing time, but I found meself hanging around the make up counters. I suppose I was thinking of Lindsay and the night before. Anyway, when I realised that, I started looking at the make up. Most of it was dead girly and red and pink and that, and I wasn’t really looking for that at all. I was looking for the black stuff and the purple stuff that the Goths wore. I could see it all right, but I couldn’t nick any. The shops weren’t busy enough and the people working there were watching out the whole time. I don’t suppose I looked like I belonged, hanging out around the make up and perfume counters and that, with me scruffy work clothes on and bits of blood and stuff on me shoes, so they seemed to be keeping a close eye on me.

  So in the end, I decided to head for home. All the way back to our estate, I kept thinking about Lindsay and the others and wondering what they were going to be doing that night. And I was wishing that whatever it was, I could be with them. But I didn’t have their phone numbers or anything so I couldn’t call them, and I dunno if I’d have rung even if I had. So I decided as far as that was concerned, I’d stick with what I’d thought of doing at first, just catching up with them at school on the Monday and seeing what happened.

  So it was back to the flat and another Saturday night in on me own. At least I had the little telly and me Playstation. They were locked in the cupboard in me room, with some other stuff. It’s where I should have put me tools so that they wouldn’t have got at em. Served me right for being lazy, that did. But I still think they are bastards for doing what they did. And it’s not like the first time they’d done it. This telly and Playstation aren’t the first ones I’ve had, f
or example. They took the others just a couple of months after they’d given em to me for Christmas last year. They hadn’t been new then, but they’d been just what I’d wanted and I was made up when I got em. Like I said, though, within a couple of months they’d gone, flogged on so that the bastards could buy more dope or whatever it had been. I don’t think the selfish swines ever know how much it hurts me when they do things like that. It’s always “We had to babes. We’ll get you new ones, promise.” But I’m used to knowing that they won’t. It’s all bollocks. The telly and Playstation I have now, I bought meself, second hand, with the money I get from the Saturday job at the abattoir.

  The walk home took about half an hour from the town, and when I got back to the estate, lights were on in most of the flats in the tower blocks. I had to walk past the garages to get to my block. There’s two rows of em opposite each other and a patch of tarmac in between. They’re not all used now cos of the vandalism and that, and all the garage doors are covered with tags and some are kicked in. One is even burned out. They put CCTV cameras up a few months back, and the kids who do all this have just moved on. Still, a few people keep cars in these garages, the ones who nobody would dare mess with. Like Kyle.

  Kyle’s car is out on the tarmac in front of his garage, and Kyle is there with a few of his mates looking in under the bonnet, with one of them portable floodlight sets you can get dead cheap from Halfords where he works, lighting up the engine. Me mate Johnno – well I call him me mate, cos if I hang around with anyone, it’s him, but not that often really – well he’s there as well, and he sees me and calls out to me. I didn’t really want to go over, cos I was supposed to be helping Kyle with his car, but without any tools all I’d be able to do is watch. Anyway, I see Kyle look up. He doesn’t say anything, but I want to stay in with Kyle so I walk over to them.