Maggie nodded, looking up and down my stricken form. “Bit of mild concussion, huh? Bit of a knock – be better by morning. No harm done, right?”
I shrugged.
“Your parents here?” she asked.
“I’m sixteen,” I told her. I hated it when people thought I was younger than I was, but my blond hair, baby face and complete lack of even a hint of facial hair tend to suggest I am.
Her eyes lit up a bit. “Sixteen, are ya? I see.” She nodded, then looked at Ben and Efia. “Know him, do you?”
“What school do you go to?” Ben asked.
“Castlegrove.”
“Ah. I go to Sherwood Academy and Efia’s at St Mary’s High. Isn’t Castlegrove in special measures?”
“Yes,” I said, increasingly feeling like I should be too. That’s what I needed. I just needed someone to identify that I was a calamity, and have a team of people sent in to rectify me, until I was “outstanding” or at least “good”. But there I was, no friends, no job, sitting in a little puddle of piss, a loser in the heart of Loserville. And I didn’t want to go home, because I knew how small and pathetic Kendra was going to make me feel, I knew how—
It was then it occurred to me that I didn’t know where my candyfloss was. I came in with it, I knew that much, but now…
“Um, where’s my candyfloss?” I muttered.
“Oh,” Efia said. “There wasn’t much left.”
My eyes widened.
“I ate it,” she added.
So, I don’t know if it was the bump to the head, or just this realization of how bad stuff was, or maybe this candyfloss business finally tipped me over the edge, but I started to cry at this point. Just sniffles to begin with, but pretty soon I was gulping down buckets of air and bawling my eyes out.
“Frigging hell,” Maggie said.
“I’ll … buy you some more?” Efia offered.
“Come on, mate,” Ben said. “It’s not so bad.”
“It is so bad!” I managed to say.
“Give him a tissue!” Maggie told Ben.
“I haven’t got a tissue!” Ben replied.
Maggie threw her hands in the air. “Well, that’s a lesson, right there! Always have a tissue on you! You’ll always find a need for a tissue.”
“Have you got a tissue?” Ben asked her.
(I’m still bawling at this point, by the way, it being pretty obvious no one cared about me, it was all about the tissues.)
“Thank you, Benjamin,” Maggie sniffed. “I just used mine in the lav, someone used the last of the bog roll.”
“He’s still crying,” Efia said.
They all looked down at me, like a small rodent they’d just accidentally run over in their car, and they were debating whether to put me out of my misery or just let nature take its course. “I have such bad luck,” I sobbed.
Maggie sucked in a breath. “No such thing really, son,” she said. “People make their own luck, by and large.”
OK, so that didn’t account for all those innocent people killed by, I don’t know, shark attacks, or deadly pandemics, or even the poor woman at number twenty-five who got killed by a toasted sandwich maker, because none of those people deserved their bad luck through anything they did, but that aside, she was blaming me. Maggie was saying my horrible life was all my own fault.
I wiped my eyes with the palms of my hands. “All I … wanted was … to get a … huh … summer job, so everyone would … huh … leave me a-lone.”
Maggie rolled her eyes. “Listen, if it’s a summer job you’re after…” she sighed, “I suppose we could use another pair of hands, since it’s high season.”
I stopped crying like a kid offered candy, propped myself up on my elbows, and looked at her. “Really?”
Maggie glanced down at me. “Part-time, summer only, four pounds an hour, or four fifty if you’ll take cash-in-hand and keep it casual.”
“I could keep it casual,” I said, sitting up further.
“And you agree to drop any … claims against me or this place for your little … misfortune.”
So! Here was the trade-off. Was she only offering me a job to put a stop to me suing her? Did that mean she thought I had a good chance of sizeable compensation? But then there would have to be a big old court case, me in the witness box, doubtless being made to say things I don’t mean by some hotshot lawyer, branded an opportunist, a liar. The alternative was at least a guaranteed income and, um … working here with some nice people. And no, I didn’t mean specifically Ben, because I didn’t even know if he was (a) single or (b) interested in boys, so that would definitely have been stupid.
I nodded my agreement. “OK then.”
Maggie sucked on her electric cigarette again and blew another cloud of caramel steam in my face. “Start tomorrow then. Ben and Efia will walk you home – to make sure you’re OK after that little trifling bump, better safe than sorry.” She looked at Ben and Efia. “It’s quiet today, so you two can have the rest of the day off.”
Efia’s eyes lit up. “Paid?”
“Of course not,” Maggie said. “This is a zero-hours contract.”
“Oh, come on!” Ben said.
Maggie shook her head. “Works both ways, Benjamin. Flexible for me, when I don’t have the hours going; flexible for you when you want to get drunk and have sex with each other, or whatever teenagers normally do.”
I can’t be sure because I had my eyes closed in mortification, but I was pretty sure we all had our eyes closed in mortification.
“See if you can get up,” Maggie suggested. “Nice and slow…”
I opened my eyes, then put my left hand on the floor to steady myself for the heave up. Ben held a hand out for me to take, but like a muppet, I just looked at it, like he was offering me a random fish or something.
“Grab my hand,” he suggested.
So I did. And he pulled me upright.
“All right?” he said.
I nodded.
He smiled. Dimples. Bloody hell.
CHAPTER SEVEN
“This is me,” I said, stopping on the pavement outside my house. I would have invited them in – we’d had a nice enough chat on the walk over here – but I didn’t want them to meet Kendra. She would put them off me in a micro-second. “Probably just need to lie down for a bit and I’ll be fine,” I added, just to make it clear I needed to be alone and wouldn’t be offering them refreshments. I flicked my eyes across to Ben and gave him a small smile and a nod. Yeah. That’s about the extent of my flirting ability. Also, as you would probably expect, he looked even better out of the gorilla outfit. He was the same height as me, but a little broader, with a very slight smattering of freckles across his nose that I could quickly become obsessed with. Well, those and his dimples. And his brown eyes, they were nice too, and—
“Wanna do something later?” Ben asked.
“OK?” I said.
Ben shrugged. “Just hang out at mine for a bit?”
“Sure.”
“Bring a bottle,” Ben said.
“Really?” No, Alex, play it cool, can’t you?! “I mean, yep. Like … wine, or—”
“If you like,” he said. “Or whatever.”
“OK then.”
I had no idea. Did he just mean Sprite?
“My place isn’t as nice as yours,” he said.
Efia rolled her eyes. “Your place is fine.”
“Not as nice as this though.” He gave me a little smile. “Nice.”
I flicked my eyes away. I guess it is quite a nice house. It’s a Victorian semi, quite big, and Mum and Dad spent a lot of time and money when they first bought it doing it up, modernizing, so there’s a loft conversion, and an extended kitchen at the back. And since Kendra’s moved in, she’s continued in the same vein, paying to have the sash windows replaced, and putting two matching box tree shrubs either side of the front door. “Thanks,” I said, kicking my high-tops on the pavement.
“Seven, OK? Give you time to sleep
off your headache,” Ben said. “I’ll message you my address.”
I nodded.
“Don’t bring wine,” Efia added.
“OK then.”
“Bring vodka,” she said.
At least I had firm instructions now. That was good. Less chance I’d mess up with firm instructions. I nodded my goodbyes to both of them and walked up to my front door, pretty pleased that I’d just been invited to some sort of party, which meant they must have liked me on some level.
“I know you don’t like curry, but we’re having curry,” Kendra said, busy unpacking two carriers of takeaway food as I mooched through to the kitchen, after lying down for a few hours.
I looked in horror at the silver containers on the counter, which had things like “jalfrezi” written on them. “I don’t like—”
“Curry, I know,” Kendra interrupted, “but we all have to do things we don’t like sometimes – it’s called ‘being an adult’. Plus, if you eat something you don’t like five times, you actually train your brain into liking it, did you know that?”
I shook my head as she lifted the lid off a biryani. “Like a lot of kids,” she continued, “you’ve just got immature taste buds. Not your fault, as such, considering what your mother fed you your whole life, but it’s time to start educating yourself a bit, Alex. Time to embrace the rich variety of world cuisine. You can’t just eat chicken dippers for all eternity.”
I didn’t see why not.
She broke off a bit of poppadom, dipped it in some mango chutney and looked at me. “Let’s have the bad news then,” she said, putting it in her mouth.
“I got a job.”
She actually stopped chewing for a brief moment, then raised her eyebrows and swallowed. “Where?”
“Wonderland.”
She made a sort of slightly disgusted face. “That place on the front? That amusement arcade?”
“It’s more than just a—”
“What are you going to be doing? It’s all automated, isn’t it? Just a bunch of losers wasting their benefits money playing games they can’t ever win.” She laughed hard at this “joke”.
I looked down at the floor.
“I suppose they need people to clean, do they?”
“Maybe,” I muttered.
“Huh,” she said, getting some plates from the cupboard. “Just make sure your vaccinations are up to date, that’s all I’m saying.”
Dad came through. “Ah, Alex, I know you don’t like curry, but—”
“We’re having curry,” I said.
He looked mildly apologetic. “Kendra’s treat.”
Some treat. “Thanks, Kendra,” I said.
“You’re welcome,” she chirped, taking the plates and takeaway containers over to the table. “Come and sit down then. Alex has some news, Tom!”
Dad smiled. “Yeah?”
“He’s got a job!” Kendra said.
Dad’s smile grew wider. “Yeah? That’s great—”
“At Wonderland,” Kendra added. “Tell your dad all about it, Alex.”
I shrugged. “I mean, that’s basically it.”
Kendra started spooning rice on to all our plates. “I told him I hoped his vaccinations are up to date!” And she laughed again.
Dad laughed too. “It’s not that bad. All seaside towns have places like Wonderland.”
“It’s the sort of place,” Kendra said, “that towns like Newsands don’t need.” She looked at me. “Balti, jalfrezi or bhuna?”
“What’s most mild?” I asked.
“They’re all medium. Which isn’t, before you moan, hot. It’s about the delicate spice mix, that’s what you need to understand. There’s a bit of heat, but not too much. Trust me.”
“Can I have a bit of balti then?” I said.
“You may,” Kendra replied, spooning some on my plate and handing it to me.
She busied herself fixing the food on to her and Dad’s plates, while I took a tentative mouthful of rice and a tiny bit of curry. Holy Christ! It was hot as hell. And there was nothing for me to drink on the table. I shot up and filled a mug with water from the tap, drinking it down.
“Spare us the theatrics,” Kendra muttered.
I finished the mug off and gasped air, then refilled it again and returned to the table.
“Do you want some water, Tom?” Kendra said, just as I sat down.
“Sure,” Dad said, “I’ll—”
“Alex?” she smiled. “Since you were up anyway, water for the table might have been nice?”
“Oh. Sorry,” I said. I got up again and filled a water jug, bringing two tumblers over with it.
“Thanks,” Kendra said. “Next time, some ice and lemon could also work well.”
I shifted my chair back again.
“Whoa!” Dad frowned, stopping me. “What did you do to your head?”
I flinched away from him. “Nothing. Just hit it.”
“How?”
“Walked into a door.”
Kendra shook her head and shovelled a forkful of curry into her mouth. “Mm! It’s so good, that new place – this is absolutely delicious.”
“Yeah, it’s good,” Dad agreed, still looking at me.
“So fresh too!” Kendra tore off a piece of naan and mopped up some sauce.
“Did someone hit you?” Dad asked me.
“No, Dad, it’s fine. I literally walked into a door.”
Dad opened his mouth, about to call me out on what he thought was my bullshit (but was actually my life) when his mobile started ringing. “Hold that thought,” he said, getting up from the table and answering his phone.
I watched as Dad headed out through the back door, which meant it was probably Mum on the other end, talking about the divorce. I flicked my eyes back to Kendra, who was now helping herself to a spoonful of jalfrezi. “I’m not feeling very hungry, to be honest,” I told her.
“Well, there’s nothing else if you don’t eat this, Alex,” Kendra said. “I’ve thrown out the chicken dippers.”
I stared at her. She had thrown out the chicken dippers?!
“Processed food is basically poison,” she explained. “I know your mum was just trying to keep you happy by giving you what you wanted, but sometimes being a parent means you have to play the bad guy. I’m not your mate, I’m your stepmum.”
My description of what she was would have been somewhat ruder and had more expletives in it. “I’ve kind of got somewhere I need to be,” I told her.
“’Kind of’ or you have?” Kendra said.
“I’m meant to be seeing some…”
Kendra raised an eyebrow.
“Friends?”
Her eyes widened. “Friends?”
I swallowed. “So, um, yes, I’ll probably just go and do that then.”
I nodded my goodbyes.
Kendra just shrugged and spooned some more curry on to her plate.
“Tell him about the letters.”
Efia was lying back in the hammock that was stretched between the two larger trees at the bottom of Ben’s garden. His house may have been quite small, but the garden was big, with a vegetable patch, pond, and a lot of lawn. I only know that because when I arrived, it had still been light. I hadn’t even noticed it get dark, but our little encampment was now lit up by some tea lights inside empty pasta sauce jars, which was actually a lot more magical and beautiful than I’ve maybe made it sound. Ben was squatting on an orange spacehopper that belonged to his little brother, and I was on a white plastic patio chair. Ben’s dog, a cute West Highland Terrier called Artoo Dogtoo, lay asleep by my feet, completely unaffected by our laughter and general chatter, which, since we were on our third vodka and Cokes (which on an empty stomach wasn’t ideal), was pretty loud. Anyway, in between all the general hooting and guffawing, they were giving me the lowdown on everything I needed to know about Wonderland.
“If he doesn’t know about the letters,” Efia repeated, “Maggie’s gonna snap at him, and…” She glanced over t
owards me. “I’m not sure he’ll be able to handle it.”
I sat up in the chair a bit, trying to look like I could “handle” it.
Ben blew his cheeks out. “OK, so, when the post comes each morning, one of us needs to sort through it. Now, what you’ll find is a lot of very angry letters, printed in red ink, with words like ‘Final Demand’ and ‘Urgent Action Required’ written on them.”
I nodded. “Take those to Maggie.”
“No,” Ben said. “Do not take those to Maggie. Those ones aren’t important … apparently. Take those, she’ll bite your head off and tell you you’re playing right into the hands of the capitalist elite.” He took a sip of his drink. “The ones you take to Maggie are the ones that say they’re gonna send actual bailiffs or repossess us. They’re the ones she’ll sort out, as and when they appear. The rest – you just file them.”
“In the bin,” Efia added.
Ben shrugged. “Yeah, wherever really, she’s not interested in them.”
“Is Wonderland in trouble?” I asked.
Efia snorted. “I think the term might be ‘screwed’,” she said, staring up at the stars.
Ben tutted. “We don’t know that for sure.”
“Town’s becoming too cool now,” Efia said. “Mum got made redundant from her bar job ’cause they turned it into a trendy gastropub and then didn’t rehire any of the old staff.”
“That sucks,” I said.
Efia sighed. “Gentrification, isn’t it? And I’m not sure the hipsters want amusement arcades, either. I’m sure it’ll last the summer though,” Efia said. “If it’s the job you’re worried about.”
I took another gulp of vodka. It wasn’t the job I was worried about. It was the increasing sense we were all being edged out. There was too much change happening in Newsands. It was our town. It didn’t belong to people from London. Surely some things we should be able to keep?
Efia was looking at me, grinning. “So, Alex, have you got a boyfriend?”
“Um, no,” I said. “What about…” I mean, he would almost certainly be with someone because fate is never that kind to me, so why was I even asking? “You guys?”
“I’m single,” Efia said, brightly. “My last relationship was last summer, with this girl who was staying on some kind of summer camp. Oh my god. She was a nightmare. Turned out she was a kleptomaniac. Literally, anywhere we went, she would nick stuff. It was really stressful.” She looked expectantly at Ben, who just smiled and nodded. “Ben’s got a girlfriend…”
Alex in Wonderland Page 5