Dying to Be Slim

by Abby Beverley

  It had been a snowy, winter weekend which had seen all the young locals hurrying to Jubilee Park to stomp in the virgin snow and toboggan down The Ramp – the steep slope between the rugby and football pitches.

  Tina had been married to Mikey less than a year but, rather than snuggle up together in their newly wedded state, they were keen to venture out into the snow and join in the fun. It had taken them twenty minutes to walk from Mitchell Road to the Muncaster Hotel in thick, freshly fallen snow. They had called in at the hotel for a hot chocolate to warm themselves up before setting off up the hill to collect Billie and head out to The Ramp.

  Guy had let himself be dragged away, albeit reluctantly, from his games console by some old school friends and, much to his surprise, was enjoying the snow tremendously. A full scale snow battle was raging: more to do with catching the attention of some local girls, than about personal glory. The girls, however, were unimpressed and seemed keener to make snow angels than watch a war.

  Several kids were whizzing past on stolen ‘For Sale’ boards, although some had plastic sledges of their own. Many just improvised with giant black bin liners.

  Billie, who had only recently started her first year at St Jude’s, quite literally bumped into some girls from her science class. She was hurtling down The Ramp on her bright red plastic sledge, shaped like a stumpy canoe, when she crashed into them. The girls were unhurt and took it in good cheer, but their giggles turned to horrified gasps when they saw that Billie’s collar bone was not sitting quite as it should.

  It wasn’t until Billie tried to move that the pain kicked in. She began to howl, which drew something of a crowd. Tina slipped a scarf under Billie’s head, all the time stroking her face and doing the best she could to take Billie’s mind off the pain. Mikey checked her over and quickly discovered that her clavicle was completely snapped.

  By the time the ambulance managed to fight its way up the steep road to Jubilee Park and skid precariously along the pitch-side track, Billie was almost as pale as the snow surrounding her. The paramedics needed to administer gas and air before they could move her. Guy and Tina helped as best they could but, since Mikey knew the paramedics, as well as the correct procedures, they were left feeling slightly redundant. It was decided that Mikey should be the one to travel to the Royal with his little sister, leaving Guy and Tina to take Billie’s sledge back to Jubilee Terrace where Tina would then wait, rather than walk home alone in the snow.

  Tina and Guy pulled the sledge through the snow slowly, leaving the shouts and screams of young folk tumbling and laughing behind them on The Ramp.

  Guy rang Clara as they walked and explained to her what had happened. Clara, understandably distraught, wanted to get off the phone to Guy as soon as possible so that she could call a taxi for Jakey. Tina could hear Clara’s anguished sobs coming from Guy’s mobile and it made her sad to think of Clara being unable to leave the house to be with her daughter at a time when she was so sorely needed. At least Jakey would be able to get to Billie – and Mikey was there too, of course.

  “Sorry about all this,” mumbled Guy, tucking his phone away in his coat pocket.

  “It’s not your fault,” sighed Tina, “Billie was the one driving the sledge. It wasn’t as though you pushed her down the hill or anything.”

  “I know,” said Guy, “but she is my sister.”

  “Well, she’s my sister-in-law so maybe I’m to blame,” Tina responded.

  Thwack!

  A hard snowball struck Tina between the shoulder blades and she fell to the ground, winded.

  “Bloody hell! Tina! Are you OK?” Guy knelt down and peered into Tina’s face.

  “What… was…. that?” she managed to gasp.

  Guy straightened himself up, still kneeling, and saw about five or six lads running off, whooping.

  “I’m afraid it’s what we get for being staff at the local secondary school,” said Guy, helping Tina to her feet.

  Tina brushed herself down and looked up at Guy.

  “Little sods,” she muttered, pushing her hair back behind her ears. “I’ve only been there a few months. It seems a bit harsh.”

  “Perhaps it was meant for me,” reasoned Guy. “I’ve been there over three years now.”

  “Ah, but you’re one of the good guys. You fix computers and dish out laptops. Not like us wicked teachers who set homework and give tests and make them work in silence!”

  “You don’t have a wicked bone in your body,” whispered Guy gently. “You’re one of the loveliest people I know.”

  The next thing Tina knew, Guy’s thumb was brushing snow off her cheek and she had turned her face towards him… close.

  Kissing each other came so naturally. There, at the side of Jubilee Park, close to the ruins of the old Hawpeak Youth Club and dangerously close to students with snowballs.

  Tina had always thought Guy to be a quiet, unadventurous, stay-indoors kind of man but as she returned his kisses, she felt a raging passion that sent her knees weak. Of course, she knew it was wrong. How could she stand there in public, where anyone might see, kissing her brother-in-law?

  Yet her desire for him, now ignited, was an inferno that needed quenching… and fast.

  Guy’s flat was a little further up the hill, appropriately named Hilltop Terrace – two roads above Jubilee Terrace. Since Tina had been winded and had fallen in the snow, it seemed sensible to go to the nearest place possible to take off her wet things.

  Over four years later, and the red sledge was still propped up in the communal hallway to Guy’s flat.

  16

  Tuesday

  BILLIE

  Billie packed her things away and waited patiently for her table to be told they could go. She was looking forward to getting home, mainly because she felt so tired. Skye had jumped into her bed very early that morning and the little monster had squirmed and poked at her face until Billie was forced to wake up and pay her some attention.

  Madame Moulin at last pointed towards Billie’s table and finally she was free.

  She hurried down the stairs from the French department and almost crashed into Mrs Lambert, her Head of Year.

  “Ah Billie… good. I came to find you.”

  Billie sighed and presumed that this was about joining the netball team… again!

  “Did your mother sign out?” enquired Mrs Lambert.

  Billie shrugged in response, assuming that Mrs Lambert had got her confused her with another student. There were, after all, a number of Jacksons at St Jude’s. At least two of them were cousins on her dad’s side of the family. Both were geeky looking lads; she avoided them whenever possible. Ted was in the same year group as her but, thankfully, not in any of her lessons.

  “So you haven’t heard from her at all?” continued Mrs Lambert.

  “No,” said Billie, staring down at the floor, wishing that she could just go and catch the bus home like everyone else.

  “Oh. Well, never mind. It was just that she didn’t sign out. It is part of our health and safety policy. She probably got lost and went out one of the fire exits. I didn’t expect you to have heard from her since mobile phones aren’t allowed in lessons but, well, I know what you Year 10s are like! Not to worry. I daresay she’d have asked for help by now if she was still wandering around lost.”

  Mrs Lambert must have baby brain, thought Billie philosophically. She’d read all about baby brain in a magazine. It was to do with raging hormone imbalances and forgetting things.

  “Oh, Billie?” Mrs Lambert called her back. “I nearly forgot. Could you pop and see Mr Waterfall in his office please? I’ve had a word with him already. He’ll explain what he needs you to do.”

  It was bad enough, thought Billie, that her brother was on the staff at St Jude’s but to be told to ‘pop’ and see him was just adding insult to injury. At the end of the chuffin’ day too! It was so unfair; at this rate she was going to miss the bus!

  She sighed and made her way to IT.

  She
knocked on Guy’s door briefly although it was propped open by a hefty, dusty rectangular speaker with severed wires. Guy was on the phone and signalled for her to take a seat. The only ‘seat’ was an old round footstool – the sort that librarians use to stand on to reach the top shelves. Billie brushed the top of it with her hand and pulled her skirt down a little before sitting on the edge of it. She stretched her long tight-clad legs out in front of her and pulled her cardigan further around her middle.

  Guy finished his call and looked down at her.

  “You alright?” he said.

  “Yeah, why?”

  “They’ve asked me to check your social networking security. There’s been a report about cyberbullying.”

  “I haven’t cyberbullied anyone!” exclaimed Billie. “Honest! Come on Guy, you know that’s not the sort of thing I’d do!”

  “No dumbass,” he said ruffling her hair affectionately, “you’re the victim here.”

  “Oh right. Yeah, I know what you’re talking about now. This is all that crap about ‘yo mommas so fat, she has two watches for each time zone she’s in’! Or whatever the hilarious joke was.” Billie rolled her eyes and grimaced at her brother.

  “I’ve had Marnie on the phone and Tanya Lambert’s been to see me. Both are concerned about comments made on some of your social networking sites.”

  “What? You’re kidding right? How on earth do they know about all that?”

  “I’ve no idea. I’m just the digital donkey round here! I need you to log in so that I can see who it is doing this to you.”

  “I’ll log in and you can read what you want but I’m not fussed about those morons and their crazy insults.”

  “Bills, everyone seems worried about you. Don’t you care?” Guy scratched his chin thoughtfully.

  “I don’t give a chuff, Guy. I just want to go home.” Billie smiled forcedly and stood up from the stool. “I bet I’ve already missed the bus by now.”

  “Billie, there’s something. I know there’s something.”

  “There really isn’t.”

  “Wait!” Guy grabbed his sister’s elbow as she turned to leave. “What do you know about a magazine article to do with Mam?”

  Billie frowned.

  “I know that it’s got a terrible photo of me in it which made me so mad that I took a biro out and scribbled over it till the magazine ripped!”

  “Has anyone teased you about it or made comments about Mam?”

  “Nah, they only know me as Billie Jackson here. That stupid reporter told the world I was Billie Waterfall. Nobody could possibly know it was me. The photo was really bad and I haven’t had brown hair and acne for ages.”

  “So you’re OK about it?”

  “Well, to be honest, Guy, I’m a bit peed off that they used that revolting photo of me. I’ve got some really nice ones on my laptop! And I was really annoyed that they printed a picture of Skye and made out she was overweight. She’s four years old! She’s supposed to be cute and cuddly!”

  “True enough. So, can I take a look at the bile that’s been sent to you?”

  Billie moved towards Guy’s computer and typed in her details.

  “I’ve nothing to hide. Help yourself!” said Billie when she’d finished.

  Guy knew it was his duty to investigate matters involving computer harassment of students but he wasn’t looking forward to reading offensive comments about his mother. Neither did he wish to see his little sister insulted online, even if she claimed not to care.

  “By the way, Tanya Lambert? She looks more like a plain Jane!” exclaimed Billie as she exited the office, almost tripping over the speaker-doorstop.

  When she arrived home from school, having missed the bus, Billie kicked her shoes off by the back door. She collected a carton of milk from the fridge and a couple of chocolate pecan bakes from the pantry then went straight upstairs to her bedroom to collapse in a heap. She absolutely hated missing the bus and the walk home had seemed extra arduous today. She heard Clara call out her name but, since it didn’t sound urgent, she decided to prioritise and put her own needs first on this occasion. Billie supposed the ‘up’ side of having an immobile mother was the fact that she couldn’t follow you into your bedroom, or anywhere else for that matter. She certainly hadn’t been wandering around the school today!

  Billie sat on her bed with the chocolate pecan bakes and started nibbling on one. She pulled her laptop round, opened it and typed in her password, wondering why it was unplugged from the mains. She never unplugged it usually; the battery was way too rubbishy. Billie leaned over the side of the bed and plugged it back in, thinking that she had definitely thrust the laptop under the bedding this morning to stop Skye messing around with it.

  Maybe she had baby brain like Mrs Lambert.

  Billie frowned, remembering her predicament – not that it was ever very far from her thoughts at the present time.

  She’d met Nick online. He was a blogger and wrote about the hardships of being a carer. She liked his tone immediately. He was negative about the things she felt negative about, but he remembered to mention the funny and positive moments too.

  Like her, Nick cared for a bariatric parent – his dad, Leslie. He wrote about living on his own with his dad, which was obviously difficult, more so because his mam had run off with a forensic dentist called Keith. When he wrote, Nick made this seem quite funny, referring to his mam’s lover as Keith the Teeth, and Billie had found herself eagerly awaiting each new update on the blog. Nick wrote most days and impressively fitted this around studying for ‘A’ levels and caring for Leslie.

  Before long, Billie was adding comments to each new post and sharing her own anecdotes about caring. She made sure that her profile pic was a good one. She’d taken loads of selfies in the mirror until she got some that were just right. Her favourite photo was a head and shoulders shot; her blouse pulled down one side to reveal the curve of her neck but not her entire shoulder. On it, she appeared cheerful but wasn’t grinning like an idiot. She was pouting and full-lipped but not sullen (lipstick and liner had helped). She was wide eyed but not startled-looking (mascara had helped). Her hair was clean, loose and swept round the unexposed side of her neck, her blonde highlights shining almost white under the bright bedroom light.

  As soon as she had posted her pic, Nick seemed to take greater interest in her comments. It obviously helped that he could put a face to them. Billie enjoyed the attention and when Nick eventually invited her to meet up with him in the city, she was happy to bunk off school and do just that. It took twelve minutes on the train and cost less than three quid.

  Before long, Billie was spending every Friday on the train heading towards Nick’s eager arms. Fridays were a good day for Nick because he didn’t have any timetabled lessons and his Auntie Val spent all day with Leslie, who was her only brother.

  At first, they had just met for coffees or burgers and walked around some of the city parks. The summer weather was kind to them and it was heartening to have so much in common. Their lives were similar in many ways and it helped to swap stories. Billie told Nick that she had turned sixteen that January and he had no reason to doubt her. He had whispered back to her that she was far more mature than most of the other girls he’d met.

  They had been together now for almost a year. To Nick, Billie was now a beautiful seventeen year old waiting to be accepted into nursing. To Billie, Nick was grown up, about to finish his ‘A’ levels and hoping to go to university in Leeds.

  Then the stupid school had got in touch with Jakey and ruined their Friday liaisons!

  Billie had to be a bit more creative about when she saw Nick but, by this time, she had met Leslie and was welcome round the family home any day of the week. Like Clara, Leslie was unable to use the stairs and, since Nick was an only child with an absent mother, they had the run of the upstairs floor.

  She never invited Nick back to Jubilee Terrace. He would have quickly discovered her real age and, besides, there were too many fa
mily members milling around. Her dad was usually at home and Marnie was a regular, usually to pick up or drop off Skye, or to wash Mam’s hair. Mikey and Tina dropped by once or twice a week. Guy came up when he remembered; even Gav dropped by once in a blue moon. Then there were the community carers, the district nurses, the doctor… the list went on.

  Billie was able to stay the night at Nick’s once a fortnight or more. It was very easy for her to dupe her mam and dad because they were both so wrapped up in their own lives. Jakey, with his baking, recipe-writing and working down the Muncaster Hotel, just presumed Billie was in bed when he came home from a shift. Clara, with her food addiction and inability to check that Billie was where she said she was, just presumed she got up early to go to school. Billie was careful to make sure that she was around when she needed to be.

  It hadn’t occurred to Billie that she might get pregnant. She and Nick had nearly always used protection.

  One Sunday, however, she was in the kitchen chatting to Jakey as he prepared a roast dinner, when she realised that she’d not drawn any stars on this year’s calendar! Thankfully, her dad was too busy basting the chicken to notice the look of dark panic that stole across Billie’s face like a gigantic spaceship gliding silently over a doomed city. She felt a prickly sensation run up her spine and her mouth went dry.

  Unsure about how to react, Billie took the calendar down from the wall and pencilled in as many stars as she could. Although she was certain that nobody looked at her calendar contributions, she felt as though she were buying herself a little time.

  Now that time was running out.

  Billie pulled her feet up onto the bed and finished off the square of chocolate pecan bake while her laptop booted up. She opened her social networking accounts and read the most recent taunts. Some of the kids at school followed each other as if in a line of ducklings. If anything, their pathetic comments amused Billie. What a gaggle of chuffin’ dumb ducks they were! She wasn’t fat, she was pregnant! Her spots had all but disappeared, her hair and nails appeared stronger and thicker, and Nick didn’t think she was ugly.