I shrugged. How was I supposed to know?
Efia cleared her throat and smiled at Drake. “Drake, I don’t know why you thought that.”
Drake cocked his head. “Said you wanted to chat. Privately, you said!”
“And that is true,” Efia replied.
“And, I dunno, just with the party at Splash Down! coming up and everything…” He stuck his tongue in his cheek and gave Efia a little wink that made a bit of sick come up in my mouth.
“Oh, Lord!” Efia muttered. “You thought I was up for some fun in the back of your Fiat Panda, did you? Drake, are you high? Actually, don’t answer, of course you are. No, Drake. I am flattered, but no. No.”
“Your loss, babe.”
“Yes, and I’m feeling it deeply.”
Drake kicked one of the chairs out and slouched back into it. “So, what’s this about then? I’ve got things to do.”
Efia leaned towards him across the table. “What do you make of all the stuff that’s been going on at work?”
Drake stared at her. I was just glad she hadn’t told me the plan was to quiz Drake this afternoon. There’s no way my nerves would have taken it, especially when he was still the most likely suspect.
“You know,” she continued. “The notes, the newspaper article, the tampered golden egg…”
Drake gave a little shrug.
“Looking like an inside job, don’t you think?” Efia continued.
“Oh! I get it!” Drake stood up to leave. “No idea, but it wasn’t me.”
“What about the guy who hit you?” Efia blurted out.
Drake turned his head sharply back towards her, sizing her up for a second, probably wondering how much she did or didn’t know. “Keep yourself out of my business,” he hissed.
“Well, maybe if your business didn’t infringe on everyone else’s, that would be fine,” Efia said. “But since you’re still dealing weed, even though Maggie expressly told you not to, and since you’re clearly in some sort of trouble with someone, because you were overheard in the yard—”
I tried to look like it wasn’t me who’d overheard him by putting a look of mild surprise and interest on my face.
“Then I think it is our business to ask, especially when stuff is happening that shouldn’t be happening.”
Efia sat back, satisfied.
Drake glared at her and sat back down. He looked at us both, curled his lip and shook his head. “So easy for you lot, isn’t it? Working here over the summer, earn a bit of cash, and in a few weeks you’re back at school, forgotten all about this place, and then, couple of years, you’re off to uni or whatever. All works out nicely, doesn’t it? Just a little game for you lot. Little story to tell your posh uni friends one day – have a good laugh about the time you worked in a crappy amusement arcade with all these useless wasters. Well, guess what? Some of us have to live in this town because there’s no chance for us to get out. So some of us have to do what we gotta do. And you little bed-wetters have no idea about what’s really happening in Newsands. All you see is your own little lives, in your own little bubble.” He sneered at us, then adopted a mocking tone, at least an octave higher than any of us actually spoke. “Oooh, I’ve got an essay deadline, oooh, I fancy someone, oooh, Kayleigh isn’t talking to Chelsie because Amy snogged Adam.”
Who the hell were Kayleigh, Chelsie, Amy and Adam? Maybe they were mates of Efia’s. They sounded awful.
Drake made a contemptuous little snorting noise. “You think I’d hurt Maggie?”
“We don’t know, Drake,” Efia said. “Maybe you wouldn’t. But maybe someone else would? Someone who was trying to get something out of you, using Wonderland as leverage.”
Drake shook his head. “We all know how much Wonderland means to Maggie. We all know about her son, how she built the whole place in his memory. I get that you have a low opinion of me, but really? You think I’m that low that I’d do that to a heartbroken woman who’s only ever been good to me?”
He got up abruptly and stormed out of the café.
Efia watched him go, crunching thoughtfully on a piece of ice from her glass.
“I mean, I think he seems genuine,” I told her.
Efia rolled her eyes. “You do understand that people lie, don’t you?”
“Yes. I’m not that much of an innocent!”
Efia raised an eyebrow.
“So where does this leave us then?” I asked.
“Still looking for our culprit, Alex.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
I hadn’t been back to a public swimming pool since Mum and Dad chucked me into the deep end, aged five, in what I’m pretty sure was in direct contravention of all the guidelines about how to teach people to swim.
“Kick your legs!” Dad had shouted. “All the other kids are doing it, why can’t you?”
“I don’t think … I’m like … other kids!” I had gasped, paralyzed with fear and slowly sinking.
Of course, a childhood nightmare is something that can grow in the imagination over time, but I’m pleased to say that my trip with Caleb lived up to every terrible expectation and every fear I had. For a start, the session we were joining was called “Family Fun Time” and that meant it was chock-a-block with screaming kids.
Luckily, I had pre-empted the first horror of swimming pools by pre-dressing in my swimming shorts, so all I had to do was take my T-shirt, socks and shoes off, and I was basically good to go. I took my stuff to the locker, then stood barefoot and vulnerable, waiting for Caleb, my arms crossed up over my chest, like how they do with corpses in coffins. It was less to do with my expectation of imminent death, and more because I was modestly shielding my nipples from public view, although boys’ nipples are less of a “thing” than girls’ nipples, for some reason, so it probably wasn’t necessary.
Caleb snapped the waistband of his Speedos. Those carved abs, tapering down in a perfect “V” and his smooth, rich brown skin radiating warmth and health were in stark contrast to the shivering, goose-pimpled pasty wreck that was my own body. “Ready?”
I nodded, then stepped in a small pool of tepid water on the floor, at the exact moment a father shouted to his passing son, “Arthur? You’ve forgotten to put your verruca sock on!”
“Now,” Caleb said, putting his hand on my shoulder. “I know you’re nervous about this, so today’s lesson is just about getting comfortable in the water, OK? We’ll just splash about, have some fun, get you feeling happy and relaxed.”
I nodded, tense as hell.
“I said, ‘Relax!’” Caleb smiled, patting me on the stomach. “Good to go?”
“Absolutely buzzing,” I lied.
Caleb led the way through to the main pool, my heart rate increasing in direct proportion to the smell of chlorine.
I wanted to go home so badly, but I was here now, and I supposed that learning to swim was just one of those rites of passage you have to grin and bear, like drinking your first pint of beer (gross) or learning to drive (me, in charge of a dangerous machine – really?!). We went down into the shallow end and sat on the floor, our backs up against the side of the pool, and the water lapping over our legs and up to our bellies. I glanced over at some ten-year-old boys, splashing about with some inflatable hammers, across the other side.
“Where’s Jake?” one of them shouted.
“He’s havin’ a piss,” another said, cocking his head towards a boy (presumably Jake), standing perfectly still in the middle of the water, with a vacant look in his eyes.
I took a deep breath, feeling immediately sick with the chlorine fumes. “Um, so, how long is this all happening for?”
“For as long as you like,” Caleb laughed.
“Oh, I didn’t mean—”
“We can get out whenever you want to,” he said. “No pressure.”
A used plaster floated by. “Sure,” I said. “Thank you.”
“Wanna try the inflatables?” Caleb said, nodding towards the huge range of blow-up creatures floati
ng in the middle of the pool. “Or there’s the water slide?”
“Let’s not run before we can walk,” I said.
Caleb cracked a smile. “Wise words.”
“Maybe an inflatable,” I said. “I guess that would minimize my chances of drowning?”
“Exactly,” Caleb nodded. “You can just have a float.”
We waded out towards the inflatables, and since my feet could still touch the bottom of the pool, that was basically fine.
“You good?” Caleb asked.
“I’m good.”
“Holler if you need help.”
I nodded, then screamed as a man suddenly burst up from beneath the surface, literally a metre from me, showering me in water. The man glared at me like I was the one at fault, put a finger over one nostril, and blew water and snot into the pool from the other one. Then he sniffed, turned, and dived right back in, swimming back towards the deep end. I looked at Caleb, checking to see if he’d registered the full horror, but he was laughing at me.
“It’s just water,” he said.
That pool was so much more than just water.
Caleb commandeered two huge inflatable animals – a big shark, and a unicorn with a rainbow tail, mane and horn, which he pushed in my direction. “Is this how you see us both?” I said. “You’re the big, powerful, majestic sea creature—”
“And you’ve got a big gay horn.”
I went red.
“Alex, I just thought the unicorn looked more stable, and you can kind of sit in it, whereas you have to straddle the shark.”
I nodded. “Yes, it seems sensible.”
“Do you want me to help you up into it?”
“No, I’ve got this,” I said, except I hadn’t because every time I tried to grip on the gay unicorn, it slid away from me.
Caleb waded over, and held on to the unicorn. “Flip yourself in,” he told me.
So I launched myself at it, landing half in, half out, my middle sort of beached across the sides of the inflatable ring that formed the body of the unicorn. I dragged myself forward with about as much dignity and allure as some barely evolved creature crawling out of the primordial soup.
Anyway, I was in.
Caleb climbed aboard the shark, straddling it with his strong legs, gripping the fin with his hands. He paddled his feet and shifted around so we were next to one another, but facing different directions. “Having a good time?”
Across the pool, an angry-looking mother was dragging a sobbing kid across the tiles, shouting, “Well, I told you not to come if you had diarrhoea!”
“Yeah, it’s lovely,” I said.
“OK,” Caleb said. “So now that I’ve got your full attention and you basically can’t go anywhere, I need to talk to you about something.”
I looked at him, wide-eyed. Oh no.
“Don’t look so scared,” he told me.
“I’m sorry, I think it’s that phrase, I need to talk to you about something. It’s just, every time someone has said it to me, something bad comes after it. My parents said it before they announced the divorce. Mum said it before she told me about the cat’s accident with the electric fence—”
“OK, this is not a bad thing, Alex. At least, I hope it isn’t.”
He gave me a little smile. I swallowed. My stomach was full of lead.
“But it’s maybe a bit delicate.”
I stared at him.
“’Cause love is a bit delicate, isn’t it?” He gave me a sort of cheeky, slightly shy grin.
If this was going the way I thought it was going, I had to stop him before he got to the bit where we both ended up embarrassed and awkward. Maybe this was my fault. He’d basically asked me on a date, albeit a pretty crappy one, I’d agreed, and I had been flirting with him a bit over the last few weeks.
“Caleb,” I said. “Let me stop you a moment.”
“Okaaaay…”
I took a breath. “I really like you—”
Now it was Caleb’s eyes that widened. “No, mate, I like you too, but not like that!”
“Like that? Like what?” (I knew perfectly well what he meant.)
“I … don’t fancy you, Alex?” He looked mortified.
I nodded. “No. Good. I mean, not good, but that’s fine because me neither.”
Caleb was just staring at me.
“I’m glad we can be mates,” I added, glancing at him. “We can be mates, right?”
“Yeah. I sort of thought we already were.”
“That’s good, because we were. Are. Excellent.”
Caleb gave his face a brisk rub with his palms. “Ah. Yeah. OK, this feels awkward now.”
“I’m really sorry.”
“No, I’m sorry. Have I completely given you the wrong impression?”
“You’ve done nothing wrong,” I told him. “Everything turns awkward when I’m involved, that’s all.”
He didn’t look convinced. He looked like he was feeling bad for me and my stupid, unrequited feelings for him that actually didn’t even really exist.
“Look,” I said. “I’ll be honest, Efia and Ben thought it would be a good idea if I maybe tried to flirt with you a bit mainly because I knocked myself out at Wonderland and when I came round, I was muttering your name. Well, not your name, I was muttering ‘Lemon Boy’ because I didn’t know your name, but I knew you were a boy who was involved with lemons. To the unknowing eye, it would appear I had some sort of subconscious crush on you.”
He furrowed his brow. “Efia suggested it, did she?”
“Well, she certainly encouraged me to… Oh,” I said, finally realizing. “Oh. You like Efia, don’t you?”
Caleb dropped his eyes shyly away.
“Aw, well, maybe I can help get you together. I mean, matchmaking is really not my thing, due to a staggering lack of experience on my part, but I could try…”
“You don’t have to,” Caleb said. “I just really wanted to know if I might be in with a chance with her. Like, does she have a boyfriend – or girlfriend – already? Is she into boys?” He dropped his eyes again. “Might she be into me?” he added, quietly.
“I will subtly and covertly gather that information for you, Caleb.”
“Whoa! Hold up there. Maybe it’s best just to leave it. I just thought you might know.”
“I’ll find out. I’ll be your wingman. I’ve always wanted to be one of those.”
He chewed his lip for a second. “OK. But … keep it cool, yeah? I don’t want her thinking I’m all obsessed with her. Which I’m not, by the way! I’m take it or leave it.”
I laughed.
“Yeah, OK, maybe that’s not completely true,” Caleb said. “But gotta play it cool.”
I nodded. “Is that a thing?”
“Apparently.”
“Efia told me the same thing.”
“Yeah? OK, that’s good to know,” Caleb said. “She’ll be playing the same game then.” He nodded, thinking it through, then looked back at me. “She was telling you to play it cool with me, then?”
“No. Not you.” I looked down. “Someone else.”
“Spit it out.”
“Ben, maybe?”
My cheeks started burning just by saying his name. That was not an example of “playing it cool”.
“Ah, yes!” Caleb beamed. “You two would be so cute!”
“Well…” I shrugged. “He’s got a girlfriend, so…”
“Really? Who?”
“Bella.”
“Bella?!” Caleb spluttered. “As in, really nice Bella who’s just come back from travelling?”
“Uh-huh.”
“Err … you sure about that?”
I looked at him, his face a picture of confusion. “Yeah? I mean, that’s what he said. And they’re … always together and stuff, and they…” I looked away because this was all pointless. “I mean, yes, she’s his girlfriend. Do you know her?”
Caleb nodded. “Maybe I got it wrong then.”
I flicked my eye
s to his, scared to let the hope build up inside me too much. “What did you get wrong?”
“She came to get a lemonade from me yesterday and we got chatting about how she was helping at Wonderland, and I asked how she ended up doing that, and she said her ‘mate’ Ben was working there, and that was how.”
I blinked at him.
“Mate, Alex. That was the word she used.”
“Not boyfriend?”
Caleb shook his head.
“Huh.”
“Mate,” Caleb repeated.
I still had my doubts, because my life is never going to be easy, and that’s a fact. “OK, but what if she’s one of those people who refers to their partner as a ‘mate’. You know, like I went to my aunt’s wedding this time, and her husband gave this speech where he said he was so lucky to be ‘marrying his best friend’ and I thought, “Cool! I’m not the only gayer in the family, David’s actually marrying Paul, that’s amazing!’ but it turned out he just meant my aunt.” I nodded at Caleb. “It made me feel a bit sick, to be honest. But maybe Bella meant that?”
Caleb sighed. “God, you’re good at pissing all over good news.”
I nodded. “I’m trying to change.”
Caleb’s face grew into a wide smile. “Time to get out of the pool, lover boy. You’re gonna help me, and I’m gonna help you. We’re gonna see if we can get you a boyfriend.”
I did my best to smile at him, in a really positive, grateful, excited way, but inside I was like, “Really? More help? How many people are going to attempt this before everyone finally realizes I’m a total lost cause?”
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
“Do you want to get some food?” Caleb said as we walked out of the leisure centre. “I’ve got a voucher for two-for-one on pizzas at that new place that’s opened.” He nudged me, conspiratorially. “We can make plans.”
It sounded good to me. Now I was working at Wonderland I had actual money of my own to do things with – I didn’t have to go and beg Dad or Kendra, both of whom would usually make me jump through hoops like a championship show dog, just for a few quid. I didn’t mind mowing the lawn, or doing the dishes, but they had me up a ladder sawing a branch off a tree in the garden a few weeks back, and it took me three hours, and I nearly broke my neck. For a fiver.
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