by Susan Gee
He needed to find out how she felt. He waited for an hour before he phoned her. It was her that answered and it made him think it was meant to be. He just couldn’t be like this anymore. In a weird way he was alright about it.
‘Do you want to do something tomorrow?’ he found himself asking.
‘Like what?’
‘Anything. I just feel like getting out.’
‘I need to go into Stockport. Come with me?’
‘Yeah, OK.’
He wondered why he hadn’t called her earlier. He could have seen her days ago. Sometimes he just made things worse for himself.
27
Maggie slipped down into the seat as the bus headed towards town. It was evening and the sun was falling. As she stared through the passenger window at the tangerine sky Jacob smiled to himself and wished that they could keep going until they were far away from this place. It felt good to be with her again. As the bus hit a bump in the road, he imagined that they were off to another town, another place where the only person he had to worry about was her.
As they passed the park, he saw Billy Vincent standing by the gates. Jacob hoped Maggie hadn’t noticed, but she was staring at the red-brick houses as they blurred past the window on the other side of the road instead.
Jacob glanced sideways as Billy took out a lighter and ignited a box at his feet. He stood over it as it burnt before he kicked it into the bushes. Papers floated up like black confetti against the whiteness of the snow. He didn’t say a word to Maggie. He didn’t want her to start talking about the Vincents again; he knew how she looked at Matty Vincent when she thought nobody was watching and he hated the way her face lit up when she talked to him. She was just like all the other girls; she was just one in a long line of others. Jacob glanced at her hand on her thigh and pressed his lips together until Billy had been left far behind.
Once they were past the houses, the road narrowed as it went up over the hill. He could hear the motorway, even though the windows were closed. The sound was everywhere. He hated it. Teasing him with its whispers. Reminding him that his mother went away and never came back all those years ago.
‘Any plans later?’ he asked, trying to sound like he didn’t really care. He was calm when he said it, no stuttering and it felt good. Perhaps because his mind was on other things or perhaps because he didn’t have to look at her face, but he felt relaxed. She laughed.
‘Like what? What would I have plans to do?’
‘A date? I don’t know.’
‘Who’d want to date me?’
Me. I want you more than you could ever know, he thought.
She laughed again. ‘Thanks for ringing. It’s daft, but I needed to go to town, but didn’t want to do it on my own.’
He wondered if it was him that had made her feel better, or if anyone could have. She said it without changing her voice or looking embarrassed and it made him wonder what she thought of him. It wasn’t something he wanted to ask her though; he’d be scared of her answer.
‘You’re not worried about, well, about that bloke being out there, are you?’
‘I just need to pick some stuff up from the theatre. I think I left one of my books there.’
‘Your notebooks?’
‘Yeah, I’ve got loads on the go.’
‘Writing anything good?’ he asked hopefully.
‘Just stuff. You know?’
He nodded, but he didn’t know. He wished she’d tell him.
‘It does you good to get out,’ he replied.
‘Yeah, I’ve just been watching crap telly and sitting in my room,’ she said.
‘It’s cos you don’t know,’ Jacob said.
‘Don’t know?’
‘Don’t know who did it.’
She glanced over her shoulder at the other people on the bus and he realised how vulnerable she really was. It wasn’t something he’d have thought about. She was always so strong. She always seemed to know everything and nothing ever fazed her.
‘Matty thinks I’m stupid staying in all the time.’
She had to mention him. They couldn’t go five minutes without her mentioning one of them. Jacob tried to sound indifferent.
‘I don’t think it’s stupid,’ he told her. ‘It’s just the way you feel.’
It made him mad. Matty Vincent didn’t deserve the way she looked at him. Just because he was good-looking didn’t mean he was anything special.
‘Anyway, he’s a thug. Who cares what he says?’
‘He’s not a thug, he just knows how to take care of himself,’ she said, with a slight smile.
‘He’d probably run the other way if you really needed him.’
‘He’s not like you, but he’s OK,’ she said, with a brief touch of his arm. ‘He just talks a lot.’
‘Never trust a salesman.’
‘That’s his dad, not him.’
‘Still. That’s what I always got told. I know people.’
She laughed again, but he didn’t get the joke. As the bus went down the hill towards the viaduct, he could still feel the touch like an invisible weight against his skin. He tried to stay calm and focus on something else, but his hands had started to sweat. She didn’t see the Vincents for what they were and setting fire to things at the park was what they were all about. They didn’t understand what it was like to care. To really be there for someone. He began to think that he should have mentioned the fire to her.
‘Well, you know you can always ring me. I’ll walk you anywhere or get the bus with you.’
‘Thanks, Jacob. I know you would.’
‘Anything you want. I’ll do it.’
It was something he’d always wanted to say, but she didn’t reply, just sank further into the seat and looked out of the window.
‘I wish they’d just forget about it,’ she said.
‘What?’
‘Jayne. I just wish they’d stop going on about it now,’ she told him.
‘Who?’
‘Everyone. Wish they’d just leave us alone.’
She had an odd look on her face and he wondered what it was like to live in that house. It was no wonder she was glad to get out.
‘Don’t tell anyone I said that.’
Jacob wondered who she thought he would tell. She was the only one he talked to. His heart started to race and he tried to look calm, but the corner of his mouth started to twitch.
‘I wouldn’t.’
‘I just need to know I can trust you.’
‘You know you can.’
He felt hurt that she would ever think that she couldn’t.
‘I haven’t seen you for ages. I don’t know, it’s not… never mind,’ she said.
‘You should know you can.’
She sighed.
‘It’s a dark place, isn’t it?’ she said. ‘I can’t wait to get out of here. I might apply for theatre school when I can. Imagine living in London. Somewhere where you don’t have to even think about this place.’
Jacob nodded. He could understand it. If he could go away with her, he would. He’d go tomorrow. Everything here reminded him of the past, and there was no getting away from it. Everywhere he went people knew about his mum. He had it hanging around his neck weighing him down.
She was right, it was strangely dark and he could barely see the edge of the road. For a second he imagined how it would feel if the bus crashed. They weren’t far from the bridge that his mum had come to all those years ago, and when they turned the corner he looked away from the motorway. He stared forwards; it was better that way. He wondered if Maggie knew how hard it was for him to look at it. He would do anything for her though. He just didn’t want to think about his mother right now.
As they passed the motorway he relaxed. It wouldn’t be so bad if Maggie went away, because he could go with her, and the Vincents and his stepmother would be far behind. It would be hard to leave his dad, but he would do it for Maggie and if he did, she might actually realise what they meant to each other. They
had been together for so long and shared so much that one day she’d realise how important he was. She had to.
‘It’s like a big black mouth ready to swallow you up,’ Maggie said, more to herself than to him as they passed underneath the viaduct. Usually she would remember where they were, but she was too caught up in her own thoughts. He wanted to tell her all those things that he’d always dreamed of saying, but instead his fingers tensed. She looked sideways as she continued to speak. ‘Nobody’s bothered about Jayne, not really. The police don’t know anything. They just kept asking about her clothes. Like that made a difference. Who cares what she was wearing?’
‘Why are they asking about that?’
‘Oh, it’s a load of bollocks. What difference does it make? I’m sick of them.’
‘They have to get it clear, I suppose.’
‘Yeah, well, I wish they’d just leave us alone. It’s horrible here now. Not like it was when we were little. I wish I could just go.’
Jacob nodded, but he didn’t feel the same. It hadn’t been nice for years. He wanted to tell her how hard he’d been trying to find out what happened to Jayne himself, but he hadn’t got anywhere.
The woman from the corner shop said she’d seen Jayne walk past her house that afternoon with a dog. He thought he’d found out something important, until she said she wasn’t sure, but she’d told the police anyway. Then she’d asked him to join her neighbourhood watch group. He’d stopped asking people after that. There was nothing more he could do.
‘Was she seeing someone?’ he asked.
‘You’re worse than them. I wasn’t her keeper.’
He wanted to tell Maggie that the police were doing their best, but he didn’t want to annoy her.
Further down the road, even through the closed windows of the bus, he could smell the town: the onions sweating on the hot dog stalls and the traffic fumes.
‘Horrible,’ he repeated, as the bus pulled into the bus shelter. ‘Anyway, you don’t need theatre school. You’re good enough already.’
She smiled at him like she loved him and he had to stop from leaning forwards to kiss her.
‘Where shall I wait for you?’
She shook her head. ‘I’ll make my own way back. It’s just that bus stop. It feels weird knowing that she was there too that day. Is that stupid?’
He opened his mouth to say that he’d wait all night if she wanted him to, but instead he just said, ‘No, it’s not stupid.’
‘I feel bad, you’ve got to just go back now. What a waste of your time.’
‘I was going to the record shop anyway.’
‘Thanks, Jacob. I’ve just got stuff on. I need to get my head together.’
They walked together through the precinct and he left her outside the Plaza. He watched her walk across the road to the theatre and as a taxi horn sounded from the side of him he realised he was standing in the road. As she went inside, he wondered if he could love her any more than this. He didn’t think so. It hurt though. Was it really supposed to hurt that much? It made him wonder if that was how his dad had once felt about his mum. If he loved her so much that it made him feel sick inside. It didn’t feel like he ever did at the moment though. Not now he’d got his stepmother. Maybe she was the one that his dad loved so much that it made him blind. Maybe his father felt about her like Jacob did for Maggie, and that’s why he didn’t see what she was really like. Life was too complicated for simple answers, he knew that better than anyone. Not only that – it was too short.
*
Jacob went for a walk through the precinct and waited by the bench near a side road for Maggie to finish at the theatre. He couldn’t leave her to go back on her own and decided to surprise her. He wanted to show her how important she was to him. Being impulsive made him excited, because usually he liked to plan everything out precisely. He walked up and down past the bench opposite the theatre. It was far enough away for her not to notice him when she came out, he didn’t want her to think that he was odd. That was the last thing he wanted.
An hour passed but, it didn’t matter. He waited. He wanted her to be worried about going back on her own. It wasn’t nice, but he wanted her to feel afraid so that he could be there for her. He wanted to be the one she saw first. It would be the perfect moment to hug and kiss her. He twisted a pen lid in between his fingers from inside his pocket. It was an exciting time – it wouldn’t be long before she realised that he was the one that she should be talking about, not the Vincents. He was the one that had been trying to find out about what happened to Jayne for her and he’d always been there for her. He was as reliable as the old red rocks that held this town up.
They were always meant to be together, but he’d had nothing to offer her before. Things were different now. He could protect her. He glanced over at the Plaza and thought of her pale ankles as she danced in the glitter dress. She was the best dancer he’d ever seen.
The roof of the Plaza became grey as the sun set. The lights that hung over the front of it hurt his eyes – so many lights, lights in long rectangular blocks. The noise of the traffic mixed with the smells of grease from the nearby café and so many people passing by: people were everywhere.
He decided to tell her how he felt. He couldn’t risk her disappearing again or for her to go back into herself again. He’d hardly seen her for weeks. His stepmother laughed at him and Maggie, but she was wrong to do that. What they had was special. There’d never been anyone else and never would be. Maggie meant everything to him and he’d made sure that his stepmother didn’t know how deeply he felt about her. It had crept through, she’d chipped away at him and realised that Maggie was important, but she’d never know how much Maggie meant to him. Maggie was everything.
He’d been Maggie’s friend for so long that he never knew which words to use, but when he finally saw her, he knew that he was going to do it. Maggie was wearing a fitted jacket with her hair loose just the way he liked it. She looked through him without noticing that he was there and flicked her hair over her shoulder so that the wind took it upwards in an arc. She looked over her shoulder and to the side again as though she was checking for someone. Instead of crossing back over the road to the bus station she stood at the edge of the pavement as though she wasn’t sure what to do. In her hand was a plastic bag with stuff she’d picked up from the theatre.
He could tell that she was too afraid to go home. He felt glad; it was going to be perfect, he was going to save her. He started to walk over with a smile. She would be delighted that he’d waited and he just needed to be casual, to make out that it was just a coincidence that he was just heading back now too. He could do it. He was about to take a step forward when he saw her face light up as she started to wave to someone coming out of the newsagent’s opposite. It was Matty Vincent. Jacob clenched his numb, red fingers into a fist. He couldn’t believe it. When Matty saw her, he changed his walk to a strut and smirked at her with his perfect smile as he tried to make her laugh.
She ran over to him and she slipped her arm through his as though it was something natural that they had always done. They looked into each other’s eyes before she moved even closer, the lights above the Plaza illuminating Maggie’s face with a pink glow. Her lips were red with lipstick and she grinned and showed her straight white teeth. Matty brushed a strand of hair from her face with one finger and tucked it over her ear and she looked at him as though she’d let him do anything he wanted. He told her something that made her laugh again before they disappeared down the road away from the bus station. Jacob could see how animated he was, looking in her face and chatting nonstop all the way down the road. Maggie was right about him, he was like his dad – he had the gift of the gab too. He could talk anyone into anything. The opposite of Jacob. Jacob couldn’t even get a sentence out sometimes.
Jacob followed behind them. The breeze hit his face, making it hard to breathe and he stayed behind them as they went to the café at the end of the road. Matty laughed and the sounds of the peop
le inside drifted out onto the pavement before the door slammed. Jacob walked around to the side window. It was thick with dirt and he bent down to look in through the grey muck.
Matty stood at the counter and waited for a glass of orange juice before they went down to the back of the café. Jacob watched, while ripples of black clouds hung over the town. Behind him the moonlight was spread out like a silver dress floating across the river through the arches of the bridge near the bus station. Matty cupped Maggie’s chin in the palm of his hand and Jacob’s skin prickled with jealousy. As she stared into Matty’s eyes and smiled, Jacob felt his gut wrench. That was the reason he hadn’t seen her. That was why she hadn’t been out or called. It wasn’t because of her cousin. It was because of Matty Vincent.
They didn’t stay long. When they got up to leave, Jacob stood up with his back against the wall and felt a familiar helpless shame as the cars moved towards the motorway and Maggie’s shoes clicked against the concrete.
Matty was doing all the talking.
‘Is the pool hall open?’
There was a crack as someone outside the pub dropped a stack of pallets on the pavement. It crossed Jacob’s mind that if Matty fell over the bridge then it would be better for everyone. They stood with their backs to him as they decided which way to go, with the great arches of the viaduct in front of them. She clapped her hands together to keep warm and Matty put his arm around her. As he did, she turned to look at him with hopeful eyes, but he stared straight ahead.
There was the sound of laughter on the wind. A kid in a pram grinned while its sibling danced around with a donut, jam like a bloody slash across its face. Jacob felt a pain in his fingers and realised that he was squeezing the pen lid in his pocket. The plastic tip had pushed deep into his skin. As the fog drifted in from across the river, he wished that he’d left her at home. He should never have offered to bring her.
He wondered how long this had been going on for and how long the pair of them had been laughing at him behind his back. He thought of Billy Vincent at the park, burning his stacks of paper and wondered if he knew too. He hated it when Matty did anything that left him on his own. The thought of Maggie and Matty laughing behind his back sent a wave of shameful anger through him. Maybe his stepmother was right… maybe he was worthless and useless. The only person he cared about had used him. He thought about walking home the long way. Going down past the pub and over the motorway bridge, but he could hardly feel his fingers and his head was throbbing with bad thoughts.