Hanging in the Mist

by Lancett, Peter;

Kyle says, “I thought you wanted to help with this,” when I get there. “We’re just cleaning the injectors now.”

  I have to tell him how I haven’t got any tools anymore and what happened. Kyle’s mates all start laughing and taking the piss, and one of them, Keith Stanway, starts saying how he’s seen me mum down at the shops that morning and she looked like a fucking zombie who’d been dressed by a blind retard.

  I’m not angry when he says this with all the others laughing and that, but what I do feel is dead embarrassed and ashamed.

  Kyle turns to them and says, “Fucking leave it out. That’s out of fucking order,” and they all shut up. They all do what Kyle tells em. I hadn’t expected Kyle to jump in like that. He’s not always like that. He could have just as easily started taking the piss along with them. But I was glad he was in one of his good moods then. So I did end up working on that engine for a bit, holding parts and passing tools while they worked, and although I was dead tired from having a hangover all day and being at work and that, I stuck around until it was all finished.

  Before I went, Kyle asked me about me sister. He said he’d seen her with the baby that morning and she was looking good. I could only think that she’d made a special effort for some reason, cos like I said, I think she’s let herself go a bit since she had the baby and got her own flat. Loads of her stuff is still in me room, in a chest of drawers and there’s a few bits still hanging in the wardrobe. She keeps saying she’s going to come and pick them up, but she never does. Anyway I thought it was interesting, Kyle asking after her, cos they used to go out for a bit, back when Kyle was still at school. I can remember thinking that it would be dead cool if they started going out again, like it would mean that I could start hanging out with Kyle or something. As if. Still, it gave me something to think about as I walked back to the tower block.

  When I did get home, there was nobody in. They were probably round at some of their friends, doing some crap or other or boozing. The flat was all dark, so I put all the lights on. I was a bit hungry, so I started hunting around the kitchen and in the fridge. There wasn’t much there, but I found enough to do some cheese on toast, and I took it back to me room. When I put the light on, it was obvious right away that she’d been in there. There was some stuff on the bed. Make up. It was all brand fucking new as well, so she’d been out and bought it. Or nicked it. All fucking pink and red it was as well; nail varnish and powder and lipstick and stuff, and mascara and eye liner. I’d hoped she’d been so stoned that she wouldn’t have remembered about the night before but it was just like her to remember this. I picked this stuff up and looked at it all and I just felt sick. And how typical that they don’t think twice about taking me tools, the things that really can make me what I want to be, but think they’re doing me a favour getting me stuff they think I need cos they think I want to be a girl. I just swiped all that stuff off the bed and onto the floor. And I lay down and I didn’t even think of getting me Playstation out cos actually, I just felt sick.

  CHAPTER 8

  I woke up early on the Sunday morning. About six o’clock. It was cold in me room so I didn’t really want to get out of bed, but I made meself do it all the same. In the end, I’d had to, cos I was dying for a slash and I’d been holding it in until I was starting to burst. I only put the light on when I came back from the bathroom and straightaway I saw it all there on the floor. All that make up, I mean. I picked it all up and stacked it on the dressing table, which was still full of lots of me sister’s stuff. It was like I couldn’t bring meself to throw it away, with it all being brand new and in shiny packaging and that. And anyway, while I was holding these lipsticks and mascaras and things, it all got me thinking about what it had been like on the Friday night over at Letisha’s place. And I was thinking about how cool it was when Lindsay was putting that Goth make up on me in Letisha’s bedroom. And it was funny really, cos sitting there, when I wasn’t pissed at all, I realised how much I’d enjoyed it all. Being with Lindsay and that crowd, having her put that dark make up on me. It made me feel like I was starting to belong.

  They’d all said that I’d make a good Goth cos of how I’d looked and I remember I’d thought what a load of bollocks that all was. But thinking back, I could see that it didn’t matter whether they were just talking out of their arses or not; what mattered was whether or not I felt that I wanted to become a Goth. And the funny thing was, I could see that I really did want that. I didn’t know why, to be honest, and I started trying to think why I was feeling this way. I knew what it would mean for me to become a Goth; I’d seen what it was like for them. People staring all the time; people making stupid comments behind their backs; people taking the piss – especially kids. Why the fuck would I want to put myself through all that? But thing was, I really did feel that I wanted it. Maybe it’s because I’d never really had a gang of real friends. And it had felt really good being with them, being accepted by them, and just having a great time hanging out. That must have been part of it, I’m sure of it. I’d never realised just how lonely I was a lot of the time until that Friday night when I’d been out with them. And right there, sitting on me bed last Sunday, on me own, well that’s when I did realise it. And I didn’t want to be always on me own anymore.

  But there was more to it than that. There was Lindsay as well. She’d been dead kind to me and I had to admit, the more I’d thought about her the more I’d fancied her. I sat there thinking of her in Letisha’s bedroom. On Friday night, when I’d first seen her, I said that she would look dead good without all that Goth make up – the black lipstick and white powder and all that. But sitting on me bed thinking about her then, I could feel that I just fancied her loads, and even with the Goth make up and all them black clothes and that. I fancied her just as she was. I was wondering if she fancied me as well, remembering how gentle and careful she’d been putting that make up on me face. And then how we’d been lying on Letisha’s bed, just talking. And kissing. I told meself, it must have just been the drink and the blow she’d been smoking. But as I held a packet of the pale-pink lipstick that me stupid crack head mother had put in me room, I remembered the waxy feel of that black lipstick that Lindsay had put on me. And how it felt, kissing her while I was wearing it. And I couldn’t help remembering what it had felt like when she’d made me put on that black lacy vest of hers and how that felt against me skin. And how it had gone further; how she’d got me to wear her little black thong. And how I hadn’t minded then, and how I didn’t feel stupid about it now. It had been new. It had been … well, kind of exciting if you must know. And it had been with Lindsay. In fact it was all new and kind of exciting. Vodka and black becoming the “Blood of the Prince”, wearing the clothes, listening to that dark music and all that. And I knew it right then. I knew it for certain. I wanted to be part of it all. I wanted to become a Goth.

  I picked up the make up from the dresser. There was nothing I could really use, cos it was all too girly and pink and that. But I’d have to get some of me own. And I’d have to get the gear as well. I’d have to dress the part if I was going to hang out with Lindsay and Josh and Dave and them. Well I had a bit of money, and I wasn’t going to need it for the mechanic course anymore. So I thought I might as well go shopping. I wondered where I’d find all of that black gear. I’d just have to look around all the shops. Everything they wore seemed to be black. Even Lindsay’s thong. Funny how I kept coming back to thinking of that. How good it had felt putting it on and feeling it next to my skin, just lying there with Lindsay.

  That was when I started to wonder about meself, if I’m honest. Cos I found meself looking at the chest of drawers that still had loads of me sister’s stuff in it. And I was wondering if she had a black lacy thong in there.

  Well, I never looked in me sister’s chest of drawers right then, in case that’s what you’re thinking. Actually, I just got dressed and went and sat in the living room. I could hear snoring from their room, so I knew that they were back and that they probably wouldn
’t be surfacing till sometime in the afternoon. So I just watched the telly and waited until it was time for the shops to open. They all opened later on Sundays, so I had to hang around for quite a while, with all nervous thoughts running through me head, like what would happen if they didn’t want me to be a Goth with them. What if Lindsay wasn’t interested in me – which I convinced meself was more and more likely. But then I told meself that it didn’t matter if Lindsay wasn’t interested in me. I mean, I would rather that she was and everything, but even if she wasn’t, it would be dead cool just hanging out with them and being a part of what they were part of. That’s what I really wanted more than anything. I was sick of being on me own all the time. And I was sick of that snoring pair of thieving bastards down the hall. Why shouldn’t I make a life of me own?

  So later that morning – well, nearer dinner time actually – I found meself in the centre of town. Most of the shops are the same as you’d find in any town centre and they all look grimy somehow, from the outside at any rate. But in the centre of our town, there’s this dead little winding alleyway. There are these dead small shops hidden away down there; like there’s this dressmaker’s shop and this shop that makes and sells small sports trophies and that. Pretty specialist, and you can tell that they’ve all been there pretty much forever. But one of these shops is a tobacconist, and when you go in there’s this smell of tobacco and cigars and stuff, and it’s actually quite nice. I’d never been in that shop before, but I’d been past it loads of times. I did go in then though, and there was this little bell that rang when I opened the door. It was dark in that shop, but it was warm. An old bloke came out from the back somewhere and asked me what I wanted. I told him I was after some clove cigarettes and I half expected him to ask me what I was talking about, but he just turned to the shelf behind him and took down a pack that seemed to look like the ones we’d been smoking on the Friday night. They were dead expensive compared to normal fags, but I bought them anyway, and a cheap black lighter.

  I was going to save them until Monday, when I’d see Lindsay and Josh and them at school. But out in the square, with all the people milling about and wrapped up against the cold, I just couldn’t resist it. I took one of the fags from the packet and lit it. I almost coughed me lungs up right away; I’d forgotten how strong and dry they were. But after a bit, I was enjoying smoking away, and I was thinking about what I’d say next day at school. I mean, do you just go up to them and say, “I’ve decided to be a Goth like you”? I mean, that sounds a bit crap. And I was wondering just what I had to do to get to hang around with them. Do I ask them if they’d mind, right out like that? What if they said no? Do I just sort of hang around with them anyway and hope that I sort of just become one of their gang over time? It was amazing what a big deal it all seemed to me. One thing was for sure, I could never be so divvy as to come right out with stuff like that. And in the end, what I decided was, when I saw them at school, I’d go over and say hi, and offer around the fags, cos I’d smoked all theirs on the Friday like. And while we were talking and smoking and that, I’d ask Lindsay if she’d teach me how to do me own make up and that. I’d have some with me. And that would kind of tell em that I was interested in becoming one of them, doing it bit by bit. And that seemed like a really good idea to me. I could picture it all in me head. But I was going to need some make up. And that was one of the reasons I’d come into town in the first place.

  I had money in me pocket, sure, but I wasn’t going to spend it unless I really had to. I’d got me big quilted jacket on with deep pockets, so you know what I’m talking about. I went into all the shops and they were getting quite busy by dinner time. It was dark and cloudy outside but in the big shops it was warm and dead light, so that’s where people were. I wandered around a few of the big places like Boots and Debenhams and Superdrug and that, where they have tons of make up and stuff. Debenhams was definitely out, cos the way they have the make up is it’s all behind these counters and there’s girls behind the counters wearing white coats like they’re lab technicians or something. I recognised some of the girls from school, there doing weekend jobs. So I got everything I needed from other places where they had stuff out on shelves, like, and you could just walk around and pick stuff up and look at it. And stuff it in your pocket if you had the nerve and knew what you were doing. The only thing I ended up paying for was a Kohl pencil. I bought a Maybelline one from Boots. To tell the truth, I didn’t much know what it was I was getting, but I ended up with black and purple lipsticks and mascaras and this white powder and that, and I hadn’t got a clue how to use it. Oh, and one other thing I bought was this black jacket. It was in the Oxfam shop but I saw it from the street so I went in and had a look. It was black and it had these straps and buckles on it and it was a bit big for me, but I thought it looked good anyway, so I got it. It only cost me a fiver.

  When I got home, I chucked all the stuff on me bed and I lay down there meself, holding it and looking at it. I had another one of the clove fags I’d bought as well, and I was thinking of Lindsay. And I kept wondering about how good that lacy stuff felt when she made me wear it. She said she didn’t know if the other lads wore lacy underwear and stuff next to their skin, but I was betting that they did, like. Cos it felt so cool and the way Lindsay suggested that I try it, I reckoned that it was something she’d done before. I was betting it was something they all did.

  And I found I kept looking over at that dresser where there was still loads of me sister’s stuff that she hadn’t taken over to her flat yet. I stubbed me fag out in the ashtray on the floor and walked over to the dresser. I was wondering if me sister had any lacy black thongs that she’d left in there. Or a lacy vest or something. Well there was only one way to find out, so I started opening the drawers.

  In the bottom drawer, there were just jumpers and stuff, and I saw the one that I’d nicked and given her for her birthday. She’d said she’d really liked it, but come to think of it, I’d never seen her wearing it. She’d just stuffed it in here all the time. The cow. Not that I minded really – it’s not like I’d saved up and paid for it or anything. In the next drawer up there was all summer T-shirts and shorts and that, stuff she would definitely not be needing at this time of year. I was beginning to think I wouldn’t find anything I was after, but just like you’d guess, the last drawer I looked in – the top drawer – was full of underwear. Mind you, I couldn’t see anything that looked black in there. There was loads of thongs and that, and some of em were dead flimsy and lacy just like Lindsay’s were, but none of them were black. Some were white and some were pink and some were red, and some had, like, these little bows embroidered on em. And some had little roses on them and that. And there were matching bras and that, and stockings and tights and stuff and even suspender belts. But I couldn’t see anything black, except for the stockings. My sis obviously didn’t go for black undies – unless she’d taken all the black ones with her.

  I dunno why, but I started to take the thongs out of the drawer and laid them on me bed. Even just holding em in my hands and running me fingers across them, I was reminded of what it had felt like to touch Lindsay’s. If I closed me eyes, I didn’t have to see that they were all pink and girlie and that. I could imagine that they were all black, and that I was back in Letisha’s flat with Lindsay, lying on the bed and hearing the Goth music and the laughter of the others from the next room. That had been the best night of me whole life. I absolutely knew it. And so, with me eyes still closed, I took off me trousers and me pants and I put on one of me sister’s thongs. And that was how I fell asleep and I didn’t wake up until the next morning, which shows how knackered I must have been.

  CHAPTER 9

  Shit. It’s really dark outside now. And the fog outside is dead thick. I can just about see other buildings – the ones nearby – but I can’t see the tower block where me sister lives. That’s how thick it is. And it’s dark here in me room without any lights on. It’s funny the way that you can see these orange blob
s. You know that they are streetlights, but all you get is this orange glow in the grey fog. And then you see yellow blobs, moving, and you know that they are car headlights but they look like they could be alien space probes or something. That’s what I like to think, anyway. Even if I know that it’s just people in their cars. People just going about their business. Living each day as it comes. People like Kyle and that. People who still have things to look forward to.

  So … I got to school early on the Monday. I suppose I was hoping to see them all. So I hung around by the bike sheds where I could have a smoke and could keep an eye on the gates, right up until the bell went. None of them had showed up by then. So I went inside to me class and I must admit I felt a bit let down, like. It was like I’d been building it all up inside me head, what it would be like to see em all. And another thing is, I’d been a bit nervous as well. While I was sitting at me desk in the classroom, I realised that what I’d been nervous about was that they might not want to have anything to do with me. That had been at the back of my mind all over the weekend as well. What I kept thinking about was the way that Dave had said, “Who says there’s going to be a next time?” as we were going our own ways at the end of the night. I know that what I should have been thinking about was how everyone else had been all for it and that, and how we’d all had a dead good time and lots of laughs and that. But all I kept thinking about was what Dave had said. And then I’d been thinking about all kinds of stuff, like how they would all have been together over the weekend, and how they might have all changed their minds about me or they might not have ever meant any of it in the first place. We’d all been totally pissed, after all. All kinds of shit like that went through me head.