by Kat Gordon
“Just go back to your girlfriend,” I said. I could hear myself slurring.
“Fine.” Toby kicked a cupboard door and left the room.
“He’s not very happy,” someone said and everyone laughed again. This room found everything funny. A boy put his arm around my waist and tried to kiss me. I elbowed him in the stomach, picked up the bottle and left.
I stood in the living-room doorway and poured myself some more alcohol. I saw Toby and Edith kissing in one corner, his hands in her hair. I sat down on the sofa arm, spilling half my drink. Another couple were kissing next to me; I tried to focus on them and realised it was two boys.
Starr was dancing in the middle of the room now with Melia and two other girls. John was hanging around them with his mouth open. One of the girls said something to Starr and pointed at me. They stopped dancing and came over.
“Your cousin looks smashed,” one of them said, giggling.
“Tallie, are you wasted?” Starr asked.
“No,” I said. I drank some more.
Starr eyed me. I belched; the girls made faces and backed away.
“Tallie was never very refined, were you?” Starr said.
“Can’t make a silk purse out of a sow’s ear,” I said.
“What does that even mean?”
“Dunno,” I said. “Grams used to say it all the time.” I felt tears building up behind my eyelids. “She’s dead now.”
“Jeez, Tallie, what a downer,” Starr said. She took my shoulders. “Sort yourself out, go drink some water in the bathroom until you feel better.” She reached for the vodka. “I’ll take this.”
“I’m fine,” I said. I fell backwards onto the two boys, who swore at me and left.
Starr gave me a pitying look and pulled me upright. “Pace yourself, Cuz. I’m not gonna rub your back while you spew.”
They went back to the dance floor. I stayed on the sofa, drinking and avoiding looking at Toby and Edith.
“Why did you leave?” someone said quietly in my ear. I turned my face upwards. Mr Hicks looked down at me, his head tilted to one side.
“I don’t like your friend,” I said.
“Nicola?” he said. “She’s just having a bitchy day.” He sat down next to me.
“Oh yeah?” I said. “Me too.”
“Why?”
“I don’t want to discuss it.”
“If you can’t tell your mentor… ”
“Why don’t you just be a guy tonight, and not my mentor?”
He smiled.
“I’d much rather hang out with you than any of these kids here.” I put my hand on his knee. I tried to see out of the corner of my eye if Toby was watching us. Everything was kind of blurred, except Mr Hicks, when I turned back. His face was perfectly neutral.
“Come and talk to me outside, Tallulah.”
I got up and followed him out the room. I thought I saw Toby and Francis exchange looks as I left.
Mr Hicks found a spot in the corridor to lean against the wall. He was drinking orange juice. “I should report you, you know,” he said. “Unless that’s lemonade you’ve got in your hand.”
“It’s lemonade.”
Mr Hicks put his hand over mine and brought it and the cup up to his face. “It doesn’t smell like lemonade.”
“So, report me,” I said, feeling annoyed at how uptight he was being. I twisted my hand out of his. “Is that why you brought me out here?”
“You know you’re not allowed to drink until you’re eighteen,” Mr Hicks said. “As a matter of fact, I don’t believe any of your friends are eighteen yet either.”
I shrugged.
“The boys I’m willing to overlook because they’re in the sixth-form and they’re not my pupils,” he said, looking at me out of the corner of his eye. “But I’m your personal tutor. I’m responsible for you. And I’m very fond of you Tallulah, you know.” He took a sip of his orange juice.
My head was too clogged up to follow the conversation, but Mr Hicks was pausing like he expected me to say something.
“Really?” I asked.
“Yes.” He looked at me from under his lashes. “I’m aware we have a – connection. That’s why I agreed to take you on as my personal student. It’s why I can’t just let you run amok tonight.”
I downed the vodka. “It’s all gone now,” I said. Breathing and talking at the same time was becoming difficult. “You can just pretend you never saw it.” I threw my empty cup on the floor and put my hand on his chest, partly to keep my balance, partly to feel him. I took a deep breath in and tilted my face up towards him, like I’d imagined in our last session, but he didn’t kiss me.
“If I pretended I hadn’t seen you,” Mr Hicks said, and put his arm around my shoulders, pulling me towards him. “If I pretended that, then you would owe me a big favour.”
Someone walked past and he shifted slightly, so that I was leaning into him, like I couldn’t stand.
“Stupid kids,” he said to the person passing us.
I looked up. It was the girl from earlier, Bailey. I felt like telling him he didn’t need to put on this show, that she was already smashed, but something was wrong, although I couldn’t quite work out what it was.
Mr Hicks was squeezing my shoulder. I felt like I was going to be sick. I dropped the vodka bottle I’d been clutching in one hand and he yelled and jumped backwards. I looked down. The lid hadn’t been screwed tight and the bottoms of his cream chinos were soaking wet.
“Bloody mess,” he muttered.
“Sorry, sir,” I said. The ceiling started to slide down towards me and the floor slid upwards; I closed my eyes and felt myself falling, but something stopped me. I just wanted to rest my head, which was getting heavy.
“Timber,” someone yelled.
“What’s going on out here?” another voice asked; it sounded upset. I felt myself shuffled along, then heard a door click.
“One of the younger students appears to be intoxicated,” a man’s voice said.
“Oh dear,” the upset voice said. “A lower-school student? How did she get in?”
“There isn’t exactly a strict door policy,” the man said. “You know, Judith, I think it’s probably best if we don’t mention to any of the staff that she was here.”
“Of course, oh dear. Herbert has always been against these parties – oh dear. I never thought anyone underage would be drinking.”
“Half these kids are underage.”
I opened my eyes and tried to focus. I was being held upright; my head was hanging down and I could see a pair of shoes and two bare feet. The feet were bony, with freckles all over; the toenails were yellowish at the ends and curling inwards. Looking at them made me start to feel sick again.
“Socks,” I said.
“What did she just say?” the feet asked.
“I can’t tell,” the shoes said. They were brown loafers with tassels on.
“Socks,” I said louder.
“Are you alright?” shoes asked me. “What are you trying to tell us?”
“Perhaps we should take her to the sick bay?” feet suggested.
“Yes, don’t worry. I’ll do that,” the shoes said. “You stay here and keep an eye on the rest of them.”
“Oh, thank you so much. You’re such a wonderful help.” The feet were fluttering their eyelashes. I felt myself being picked up.
“We’ll go out the back way,” shoes said. “Don’t want to draw unnecessary attention here.”
“Of course, of course.” The feet moved in front of us, opening the back door and shooing us out. “Thank you, again. I knew I could count on you.”
I felt sleep fighting me, trying to make me let go of everything. I didn’t have the strength to hold out. I closed my eyes – I couldn’t hear anything but buzzing, and a strange panting noise. I couldn’t see anything. I couldn’t feel anything, not even the sickness anymore.
The shoes were carrying me away from the party. They weren’t being very careful wi
th me. I was being bumped and shaken about. We stopped and I heard the scratch of metal on metal, and then a door open.
“Nearly there,” the shoes said. There was a click and I felt a pink burning inside my eyelids. I could smell turpentine. The shoes laid me down on something soft. They were soothing me, stroking my hair and taking my cardigan off. I moaned and tried to turn over. The shoes took my shoulders and pushed me back.
“I’m looking after you now,” they said. “You’re okay.”
I groaned.
“You’ve been very bad tonight,” they said. “Drinking, sneaking into parties, answering back. You’re a very wild child.”
“No,” I said, but it was muffled.
“Yes,” the shoes said. I felt them undoing the buttons on my shirt. I tried to stop them. I pushed fingers away, struck out wildly in all directions. The fingers came back and caught my wrists, holding them, tightly at first, then softer as I felt my strength flowing out of me. I could hear shushing sounds.
“No,” I said. “Don’t.”
“You want this just as much as I do,” the shoes said. “You’ve been playing games with me all year. Pretending you’re shy and sweet, watching me in class, blushing when I talk to you. Then swearing you’re not the kid everyone thinks you are. And the other day, when you gave me the signal. I knew what you were doing. You’re not an innocent, are you, Tallulah? You know how you make me feel.”
“I didn’t,” I said. The words felt like they were being dredged up from somewhere deep inside me.
“Oh yes, you’ve been very bad,” the shoes said. “Be a good girl now.”
Water gathered beneath my eyelids in frustration. I tried to open my eyes, but it was too much. I felt something scrabbling around at the buckle of my belt and then my jeans being pulled down to my knees.
“No,” I said again. This time I couldn’t gather enough breath to speak out loud. A heaviness was on top of me, then I felt something slippery thrust inside my mouth. I coughed and retched. Whatever was on top of me shuddered, making my head rattle and a wave of pain wash over me. I heard grunting noises; they seemed to be coming from inside my mouth, but I wasn’t making them. Then the weight lifted off of me, and I could feel hot blasts down near my crotch.
“Pink. Very unexpected,” the shoes said. “Did you wear these especially?” I heard the sound of someone sniffing, long breaths drawn in. “I can’t tell you how good you smell.”
Then my knickers were being pulled down. I tried to hold on to them, keep them up, but my head was getting heavier and heavier. That was the last thing I knew.
“Tallie?” a voice said.
Slowly, light was beginning to come back to me. Shapes shifted in front of my face, blurred at first, then they cleared.
Starr was sitting at the end of my bed. She was rubbing my leg; her eyes were pink and puffy. “Tallie, are you okay?” she asked.
“Yeah,” I said. Starr leant forwards and I realised I hadn’t spoken. “Yeah,” I tried again. Again my voice wouldn’t come out.
“Tallie, what happened?”
I sank back onto my pillows, exhausted.
“Mr Hicks said he tried to take you to the sick bay,” Starr said. “But you broke away from him and ran off. We found you a couple of hours later. You had all these cuts and… ”
I looked down at my body; there were two red marks around my left wrist, and a long scratch on my arm. My jaw felt tender, too. I rubbed it.
“Did you get them from falling over?” Starr asked.
I shrugged – I don’t remember.
“Did someone hurt you?” she asked, her voice lowered.
I shrugged again. Images swam messily in front of me.
“Oh, Tallie.” She sounded like she was going to say something more, but then held back.
I tried to drag my voice up to the surface. “Water,” I finally croaked.
“Of course.” Starr jumped up and went to get me some water. I lay in bed, hands clenching the duvet until they got weak. “Don’t think about it,” I muttered.
“What was that?” Starr came back.
“Nothing.” I sat up, took the glass from her and drained it. I lay back down and rolled over. My whole body ached.
“Are you going to talk to me?” Starr asked.
I closed my eyes, but that made me feel dizzy.
“They’re not going to call your father,” Starr said. “Mr Hicks persuaded the other teachers not to tell Mr Purvis. He said you’re under enough stress already, and he’d keep an eye on you.”
I stayed on my side, with my back to her.
“I’ll let you sleep,” Starr whispered. “I’ll be in the common room if you need me.”
I got up and showered when Starr left. I went over every inch of my body with the soap, scrubbing between my legs especially hard. When I turned the water on myself, I saw it had gone pink. After I turned off the tap, I stayed in the cubicle for a moment, leaning my head against the wall, eyes closed tightly.
Out of the cubicle I looked at myself in the mirror. I seemed the same – same hair, same face, same breasts, although now there were little purple bruises around my nipples and on my cheek. I wrapped a towel tightly around myself. “Don’t think about it,” I said to my reflection.
“Tal?” Edith called.
She was standing in the middle of our room; Toby was behind her. “Are you okay?” she asked. “We were just wondering if you needed anything?”
“Nope,” I said. I forced a smile for them and adjusted my towel.
“Can I talk to Tal alone?” Toby asked Edith.
“Yeah, sure,” Edith said. She turned on her way out and gave me a worried look. “Tal, you shouldn’t drink so much.”
“Right,” I said.
Edith left. Toby faced me, hands in his pockets.
“Turn around,” I said. “I need to put something on.”
He turned away; I saw his face screw up as he did. I went back into the bathroom and took my robe from its hook. I’d never used it. It felt soft, like it had when my grandmother had given it to me the previous year. I pulled it on and tied the belt in a double-knot around the waist.
Toby was facing away from me when I re-entered the dorm. I cleared my throat and he turned; his face was blank now.
“Cigarette?” I asked him.
“Yeah,” he said.
We went back into the bathroom and opened the window. I sat on the toilet cistern and Toby stood in front of me. I lit two cigarettes and passed one to him.
“How did you get in?” I asked.
“Francis and John are distracting the Housemistress,” he said.
“I see,” I said. I crossed my legs; Toby looked away.
“What did you do last night?” he asked me.
I inhaled deeply. “I went to the party with you guys,” I said. “I had too much to drink. Then I don’t know. I don’t remember.”
“Do you really not remember?” Toby asked.
“Really.”
Toby sucked on his cigarette and looked down at the floor. “I was the one who found you,” he said, eventually. “You were moaning and you were pretty scratched – you kept saying something over and over again.”
I inhaled again and looked out the window.
“Don’t you wanna know what you were saying?” Toby asked.
“No,” I said. My voice shook. “And I don’t want to talk about last night.”
“Why, if you don’t remember?” Toby asked.
I hopped off the cistern and stubbed the butt out in the sink. “I don’t want to talk about it,” I said. I opened the toilet lid and dropped the butt down into the water. Toby watched me carefully.
“You’re not going to get suspended,” he said. “You’re not even being reported for drinking underage.”
“Yeah, I know,” I said. “Starr already told me.”
“Mr Hicks sorted that out.”
“I know.”
“Don’t you think that’s nice of him?” Toby aske
d. “He didn’t have to go out of his way for you.”
I looked out of the window again. Plump white clouds drifted in the sky; the sun poured itself through the open space.
“I don’t want to talk about it,” I said. I reached over and flushed the toilet and watched as my cigarette was sucked out of sight.
PART THREE
Bones
Sixteen
There were five weeks left of term after the drama party and the summer was rolling out before us. Windows were left permanently open in the classrooms and from where I sat in English I could see the front lawn. On Fridays, the gardeners cut it, and the smell of fresh grass mixed with the trails of honeysuckle, jasmine and lavender that grew beneath the classroom windows. Ladybirds traipsed across the doodles in my exercise books, legs and wings akimbo, like they were coming apart in the heat. One time I saw a crow with a worm in its beak hopping around on the gravel outside, the worm wriggling desperately like some dull pink ribbon caught in the wind.
Sometimes I felt my eyes fill up for no reason, in the middle of a class. Sometimes I missed my mother so much I hated her.
I stopped hanging out with the others, stopped eating lunch. I showered three or four times a day, and sometimes at night.
“Tallulah, don’t you have a private tuition session now?” my maths teacher asked me when I showed up to a lunchtime revision class.
“I don’t need them anymore,” I said.
“Right,” she said, and went back to her marking.
One Monday we were called into an emergency assembly. Mr Purvis stood on stage, his face the colour of beetroot. A serious crime had been committed on school property. Mr Hicks’ office had been broken in to and defiled, he said.
“And to make matters worse, this same student left a threatening note for Mr Hicks. And he tells me this has been going on for weeks.” His voice crescendoed; I thought I could see spit forming at the corners of his mouth. “This school will not tolerate the bullying of its staff by pupils, or anyone. I suggest that if you have any information about the perpetrator you come forward with it now. Otherwise, if this behaviour does not stop immediately, we will be forced to question everyone.”