I swallowed. It was quarter to eleven. There was no chance Chloe was inside that room yet.
“Don’t bother breaking down the door,” I said. “She’s not there.” They both stared at me.
“What d’you mean, Luke?” Mum said, hoarsely. “Where is she?”
“I don’t know,” I said. “Honestly. She wouldn’t tell me.”
They went ballistic.
Mostly about Chloe, of course. Though as she wasn’t there – and as I had covered up for her again – a lot of the shouting was directed at me.
By midnight, the edge had gone off Mum’s anger. In fact, she was starting to get seriously worried. She’d tried Chloe’s mobile several times. And she’d rung round all her friends. No one appeared to have any idea where she was.
“Suppose something’s happened to her, Matt.”
Matt put his arm round Mum’s shoulders. Silently I cursed Chloe for creating a situation that was going to give Matt more of a chance to wheedle his way into Mum’s life. He’d already done a big heroic number about how he couldn’t go home and leave Mum in this state.
Why not? I’m here.
But Mum was pathetically grateful.
I hadn’t told Mum anything about the “older guy” theory. But by one o’clock I was wondering if I should. Mum was standing looking out of the living-room window onto the deserted street, biting the skin round her fingernails, her face ghostly white.
“D’you think I should call the police?” she said.
“Give it a bit longer, love,” Matt said soothingly, stroking her hair.
Jesus. He wasn’t even pretending not to be interested anymore.
“I can see her,” Mum shouted from the window. She ran into the hall and opened the door, just as Chloe sauntered up the path, a bottle of beer in her hand.
Ten seconds later we were in the middle of the worst row Mum and Chloe had ever had.
“How could you do this to me?” Mum yelled. “I can never, ever trust you again.”
“Yeah, big deal. You didn’t trust me before. You treat me like a pigging prisoner!” Chloe screamed.
“I don’t . . .”
“Yes you do. A prisoner. What d’you expect me to do?”
I watched, helplessly, as they stood, inches away from each other and completely red in the face, shouting at the tops of their voices.
“You hate me. You’ve always hated me,” Chloe shouted, tears splashing down her cheeks.
“I don’t hate you,” Mum yelled back. “I love you. I care about you. That’s why I punish you when you do something dangerous. It’s for your—”
“That’s pigging bollocks,” Chloe screamed. “You just want to ruin my life. Like you ruined Dad’s.”
Mum blinked. “How dare you talk like that . . . Dad would be so ashamed . . .”
“No, he wouldn’t. He loved me. He’s what made this a family. Now it’s nothing. Nothing.”
And with that Chloe turned and fled, hysterically, into her room. Mum moved to go after her, but Matt held her back.
“Don’t, love,” he said. “Leave her to calm down.”
Mum sank, weeping, into his arms.
Excellent.
Severely pissed off with my entire family, I traipsed into my room and flopped onto my bed. I thought about ringing Eve. She had to be home and on her own by now. But I was too scared to call, just in case she wasn’t.
In the end, I sat there for hours, staring at Dad’s old records. It dawned on me that I hadn’t heard the front door shut. Jesus. Matt wasn’t actually staying over was he? In the end I crept onto the landing. Everything was dark and quiet downstairs. Mum’s bedroom door was closed and the light inside was off.
I really didn’t want to think about that, so I went back into my room and listened to a few of Dad’s singles. I recognised a couple. Dad used to play them on CD in the house.
I remembered once finding him and Mum slow-dancing in the kitchen to one of the tracks. Dad had winked at me over her shoulder.
“Nearly lost your mum to this record, Luke,” he’d said. “Want to know how I got her back?”
At the time I’d just thought it was gross that they were smooching away in the kitchen. I hadn’t taken any notice of what he was saying.
What could he know about how I felt anyway?
I listened to the songs, still sitting on my bed.
Missing Eve.
14
Perfect imperfect
You think you’re alone until you realise you’re in it.
Now fear is here to stay, love is here for a visit.
‘Watching the Detectives’
Elvis Costello and the Attractions
The next day Mum got Uncle Matt to take the lock off Chloe’s door so she couldn’t shut herself in anymore. She also got him to put a lock onto Chloe’s window – to which Mum kept the key.
Finally, she extended Chloe’s month-long grounding – so that Chloe now had two more weeks of it – and she took Chloe’s mobile away.
But it was all pointless. In fact, the only effect of Mum’s punishments was that instead of sneaking about, Chloe simply marched in and out of the house whenever she felt like it.
Mum still shouted at her, but now Chloe just ignored her. Literally. She put this vacant look on her face, and acted as if she wasn’t even aware Mum was in the room. After a day of this Mum stopped talking to Chloe altogether. She also stopped washing her clothes and cooking her meals. It didn’t work.
Chloe simply started doing those things for herself.
I could see Mum was really miserable and I felt angry with Chloe for pushing her so hard. But I didn’t know what I could do about it. Chloe’s impossible to deal with when she gets angry. Eve said she must be unhappy underneath because of Dad. Maybe. I was sure that if Dad had been here he would have been able to sort her out. But it was way beyond me.
And at least the endless rows had stopped.
I saw Eve the day after her date with Ben. We took a bus into town and went to the movies. I was determined not to mention Ben – but after the film, we went for a coffee and Eve brought him up herself.
“I missed you last night,” she said.
“Oh?” I stirred the froth into my cappuccino.
“Ben and I went to this club. It was a great place, but loads of his football friends were there and I don’t like them so much. And Ben didn’t even want to talk to me properly.”
No, I don’t suppose he did. I expect he had other things on his mind after being away from you for a week.
Eve sighed. “He’s such a weird guy. He’s so macho on the outside, but underneath I’m sure there’s this vulnerable person he really would rather be, if he’d just let it come through.”
Jesus Christ. “Do you mind if we don’t talk about Ben anymore?” I snapped. I pushed my coffee away and sat back in my seat.
Eve’s lip trembled. “I just wanted you to know that I missed you.”
I shook my head. Her logic was all twisted. She was making it sound like someone had forced her to be with Ben last night.
A tear trickled down Eve’s face, glistening over the tiny chicken-pox scar she has on the ridge of her cheekbone. And it suddenly struck me that she wasn’t perfect. Beautiful and sexy, yes. And kind and funny and sweet and smart.
But she was lots of negative things too. She was stupid about Ben. And annoying – with all her ridiculous questions and the way she was often late when we’d agreed to meet up. And sometimes she was even boring – going on and on about her school stuff or trying to get to the heart of some ultra-complicated emotional point she was making.
The funny thing is, knowing all that only made me want her more.
I smiled at her. “ ’S OK,” I said. “I missed you too.”
Looking back, I can see something changed between us at that moment. I stopped being constantly terrified she was about to dump me. I even found myself forgetting she was older – almost sixteen. It just didn’t seem important anymore. I
still felt massively jealous that evening, when she went off to be with Ben, but I decided it was crazy to stay in by myself again, so I called Ryan to see what he was doing.
As I suspected he had a party all lined up – and seemed quite happy for me to tag along. There were quite a few people from school there. Everyone seemed to have forgotten about my dad dying – or at least it didn’t seem to be such a big deal anymore. I didn’t feel everyone was looking at me and thinking: hey, there’s Luke with the Dead Dad. In fact, I found myself actually enjoying hanging out with my mates again.
I mean, I would have liked Eve to be there too. But things with her were so intense. What with the powerful way I felt and the whole thing she had going with Ben – it was kind of nice to take a breather.
“So I guess you don’t need to know the Sixth and final Step for getting a girl,” Ryan said when he saw me. “You’ve obviously already got her.”
I frowned. I hadn’t told anyone I’d been seeing Eve. We avoided everywhere we might see people we knew. I’d hardly spoken to anyone else for a week. How did Ryan know about us?
Ryan gave me his lopsided grin. “It’s all over your face,” he said. “You’ve been maxing out all half-term, haven’t you?”
“Sssh, it’s supposed to be a secret.” I grimaced. “She’s still with her stupid boyfriend. Doesn’t want him finding out.” A horribly graphic image of Eve and Ben snogging forced its way into my head. I shuddered.
“Ah,” Ryan said, looking at me thoughtfully. “Well in that case, the Sixth Step might come in handy. It sounds different from the other Steps, but it’s all part of the Masterplan.”
I rolled my eyes. God. If bullshitting was a GCSE subject, Ryan would already have an A*. “Spit it out, Ry,” I snapped.
“OK,” he said. “Basically, Step Six is where you go hardcore. You’ve spent all your time so far focusing on Eve, showing her you’re interested, making her laugh, listening. Now you gotta make it clear that you could walk away if you wanted to.”
I frowned. “Like being aloof, again?”
Ryan shook his head. “This is different. This is all about saying ‘I may be sensitive and stuff, but I’m still a bloke and I’ve got my pride and I won’t put up with any crap’.” He paused. “For instance, you should make it clear you won’t put up with her still seeing Ben, as you obviously hate it so much.”
“Right.” I could feel my face reddening as my temper rose. What did Ryan know about it? Eve had been going out with Ben before she met me. I could hardly demand she dumped him, could I?
I looked round the room, trying to find some way of changing the subject. It was filling up with a crowd of girls I’d never seen before. Some of them were pretty hot. One girl with long, black hair was giving Ryan this hard, sexy stare.
I nudged him. “What you gonna do about her?”
He grinned at me, then gazed across the room at the girl. They looked at each other for a few seconds, then Ryan smiled and beckoned her over. “She’ll be here in less than a minute,” he said confidently. “And she’ll bring a friend.”
I laughed, but Ryan was right. Thirty seconds later the girl sauntered up to us, a shorter, red-cheeked girl beside her.
“Hi,” said Ryan. He raised his eyebrows and smiled.
The dark-haired girl started talking to him as if me and the other girl weren’t there. Ryan flirted right back at her. Then the girl said she was going to get a drink. We all watched her as she crossed the room. She turned at the door and stared straight at Ryan. Then she walked out.
“See you later, man.” Without looking at me, Ryan strolled out after the girl.
I turned to her friend. She was smiling shyly up at me. She looked nice. She was even quite pretty. But she wasn’t Eve. I considered getting off with her for about ten seconds. Why shouldn’t I?
It was probably what Eve was doing right now.
Then my phone rang. It was a text from Eve. i miss u.
“Sorry,” I said to the girl. “Gotta go.”
I walked round for a bit, chatting to some people I knew. I kept an eye out for Ryan, but I didn’t see him anywhere. He was probably happily snogging the dark-haired girl in some corner.
I left him to it and went home.
Eve was furious when I told her about the party and the shy girl the next day.
“So while I’m missing you like mad, all you’re thinking about is who you can pull?” she said indignantly.
I couldn’t help smiling. “I told you, nothing happened.”
“Only ’cause I texted you and reminded you . . . Why are you laughing at me?”
I pulled her into a massive snog. “Because you’re jealous,” I said, grinning my head off. “Because you’re jealous.”
It was Sunday, the last day before we went back to school and we were on our own at Eve’s house. It was still morning, and the whole day stretched ahead of us. We’d made some sandwiches and were eating them lying on the sofa. We were just talking about what we should do later, when the doorbell rang.
I watched Eve glide across the hall and open the door.
I couldn’t see who was there.
“Ben,” she said, loudly.
I practically choked on the bit of sandwich I’d just put into my mouth.
“What are you doing here?” Eve’s voice sounded far too nervous and high-pitched. Jesus. He was going to guess something was up.
I could hear Ben grunting about how his football practice had finished early as I rolled off the sofa onto the floor. My eyes flashed up to the window at the front of the house. Could he see into the living room from where he was standing?
“Why can’t I come in?” he said suspiciously.
Oh my God. I glanced round and spotted a big squashy armchair in the corner by the window. I set off on my hands and knees towards it.
“I’ve got to go out in a minute,” Eve said. “I told you I’m seeing my dad.”
I could hear them arguing as I wriggled past a tall floor lamp and crawled behind the chair. The curtain at the window beside me hung right to the floor. I tugged at the folds so they hid me fully, then peeked through a tiny slit.
They were in the living-room doorway. Ben was swearing, pushing past Eve. He took in the sandwiches – luckily we’d shared a single plate – then he stomped further into the room.
I held my breath.
“So when are you seeing your dad?” Ben growled.
Eve shrank against the wall. I knew she had pretended her dad was visiting this weekend.
“A bit later. His flight from Spain’s . . . er . . . about to land.”
A lecherous grin spread across Ben’s face. “So we’ve got a bit of time, then?”
“No.” Eve was practically squeaking now, all trace of her normally raspy voice completely gone. “I’ve got to get ready. Now.”
Ben pulled her towards him. “You know you want me.” He pawed at Eve’s dress.
I gritted my teeth.
She pushed him away. “No,” she said firmly. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
After a little more argument, Ben allowed himself to be propelled towards the door. This was followed by a few minutes of slurping noises which I tried not to listen to. Then he was gone.
Eve came back into the living room as I stood up. We stared at each other for a few seconds. I was about to start mouthing off about what a total jerk Ben was, when she started crying.
We sat down on the sofa and I put my arms round her. I had no idea what to say. I couldn’t stop thinking about the way Ben had touched her. I hated it. Not just seeing his hands on her body. It was his whole attitude. He’d acted like he owned her.
Eve wiped her eyes. “What are you thinking?” she said.
The most irritating question in the world again. But for once I wanted to answer. “I don’t understand . . .” I said, slowly, “. . . why you go out with him. Why you let him ‘do stuff?”
Eve wrinkled her nose. “We don’t really ‘do’ anything. I mean, not like yo
u and me.”
I frowned. What was she talking about? Everything I’d seen of Ben so far made it quite clear to me that getting as far as he could with Eve was his main reason for hanging out with her.
“It’s like, with us, we spend lots of time talking and stuff and it’s really nice,” she said. “But with Ben, it’s more complicated. I really . . . I mean, he’s fun to be with. We go out with his mates . . . you know to clubs and bars and . . . and I have a good time. But we don’t talk that much . . . you know . . . not that he gets all stressy about anything. I mean he’d never make me do anything I didn’t want to. He says he’s totally cool about waiting for . . . until I’m ready . . .”
I shook my head. It was all too complicated. Too hard to make sense of. Somewhere in my head a little voice was insisting that Ryan was right. I shouldn’t ignore Step Six. I should make Eve dump Ben.
But it was a very little voice. And, after all, I had Eve.
That was all that mattered.
We met every day that week after school – mostly in the building site. Some workmen had obviously been in there, because another bit of wall had appeared, but no one was ever around by the time we turned up.
Thursday was after-school Art Club. I had confessed to Eve some time ago how I’d only started going in order to talk to her. She told me I should do the wooden-button music collage anyway. That it was a good idea. Privately, I thought she was nuts, but I didn’t say anything.
I was looking forward to after Club ended, when we’d agreed we would stay on late again. It was going to be one of the few opportunities I had to be with Eve indoors – i.e. in a place where she wasn’t wearing ten layers of jumpers and coats.
As soon as Ms Patel had left we switched the radio on. This time Ifound some music. Slow-dance music.
As the song finished, I pulled away from her and drew a small, tissue-wrapped package out of my pocket.
“Happy birthday,” I said.
Eve looked up – all wide-eyed and smiling. Her birthday was the next day, but, of course, she would be going out with Ben and her friends. Which meant I wouldn’t see her until Saturday.