‘You must’ve learned something.’
‘I didn’t. We had a supply teacher and he couldn’t control us.’ She laughed and crisps spluttered everywhere. ‘I know a secret though. Shall I tell you?’
‘OK.’
‘Something lives under the Christmas tree. Guess what it is?’
‘Dunno, a goblin?’
‘No, stupid.’
‘A rat? A wolf? A bear?’
She twisted round and lifted the pot. ‘Woodlice. Look, hundreds of them.’ She picked one up and showed him. It uncurled on her hand and ran to the edge of her palm; she turned her hand over and it ran across the back. On and on for ever, thinking it was getting away.
‘It looks like a dinosaur,’ she said. ‘It looks like an ankylosaurus, don’t you think?’
‘Probably.’
‘It really does. Do you even know what an ankylosaurus looks like?’
‘Like a woodlouse?’
She grinned at him. ‘You’re such an idiot.’
Mum stuck her head out. ‘I thought I heard you, Mikey. You’re back then?’
‘Looks like it.’
‘You OK?’
‘Yep.’
‘You want a cup of tea? I’m just making one.’
He shook his head and she frowned at him. What did that mean? What’s wrong with my tea? Karyn’s outside, have you noticed? Don’t upset her? Keep your big mouth shut? All the signs were new and Mikey didn’t seem able to make sense of them.
Down in the courtyard, a boy kicked a ball against the wall, and in one of the flats, someone whistled tunelessly. Holly fed crisps to the woodlice and Mikey smoked his cigarette and secretly watched Karyn turn the pages of a magazine. She was only pretending to read, he thought, faking interest in the pictures. It all felt so weird and uncomfortable.
‘How long have you been outside?’ he asked her eventually.
‘Ages.’
‘It’s been nice weather, eh?’
She didn’t answer and he felt himself falter, didn’t know how to be with her any more.
‘You know,’ he said, ‘maybe I want that cup of tea after all.’
Holly scrambled up. ‘I’ll tell Mum.’
He really didn’t want to be left alone with Karyn, but Holly insisted. She pressed past him and disappeared into the flat.
Karyn turned another page.
He lit a new cigarette from the old one and inhaled, long and deep. He knew he should give talking another try, but didn’t know where to begin. There were so many things he wanted to tell her – all the stuff he’d realized recently about how much she did, had always done in fact. She’d been taking Holly to school for years, collecting her too, doing the shopping and washing and keeping Mum in line. All he’d ever done was go to work, hang out with Jacko and pick up girls. Even his great scheme of becoming a chef had crumbled to nothing. The last few weeks, it was as if someone had taken his life to pieces and let him see the way it worked. And what he’d realized was that he wasn’t the heroic big brother who could solve every problem and hold a family together; he was, in fact, an idiot, and of course his sister wasn’t going to bother speaking to him.
He took a breath. Now or never.
‘Karyn,’ he said, ‘I’m sorry.’
She looked over the top of her sunglasses at him.
‘I wanted to help you, but I got it wrong.’
She smiled. A tiny shadow of a smile, creeping along her lips from the edge of her mouth. ‘I’ll think about it.’
‘About what?’
‘Whether to forgive you or not.’ She pushed her glasses back up her nose and turned another page of her magazine.
Mum brought out the tea. She sat on a deckchair, her feet in the sun. Holly came out with a satsuma and peeled it carefully, sucked each segment dry of juice and left the empty skin on the step next to Mikey.
‘It’s got pips in,’ she told him, ‘and I don’t like pips.’
Karyn smiled at her. ‘You could make a bracelet out of them if there’s enough. I did it at school once. You use food colouring to dye them, then string them together. Stacey’s coming over later and we’ll help you if you like.’
‘Cool.’ Holly held a piece of satsuma up to the light to examine it.
It was nice sitting there, sipping tea. Mikey felt as if he hadn’t done something so simple for months. Holly fiddled about with the pips, Karyn turned pages, Mum ate a biscuit. Was that all it took to feel better about yourself – an apology? He still had no way of telling Karyn the things he felt, but it didn’t seem to matter so much now. Maybe if he just sat there with her, she’d know it anyway. And maybe, later, the right words would come.
‘Hey,’ Mum said after a while, ‘I know what I didn’t tell you, Mikey. You remember that social worker who came round when no one was here?’
Holly frowned. ‘Me and Karyn were here. I opened the door and everyone told me off.’
Mikey reached out and stroked her back. ‘What about her?’
‘She’s got Holly a place in an after-school club.’
‘I’m going to do football and street dancing,’ Holly told him.
‘At the same time?’
‘No, silly. And when it’s raining I’m going to make puppets.’
Karyn twisted round to look at Mikey. ‘And I’m getting a computer.’
Mikey was tempted to ask what he was going to get, but managed to keep his mouth shut.
‘It’s from a charity,’ Mum told him. ‘They give old ones a service and hand them out again, good as new. The social worker reckons we might get a desk for the girls’ room as well – I just have to write a letter and say why we need it.’
Mikey laughed. ‘Remember when you got that paint for Holly?’
‘For me?’ Holly’s whole face gleamed. ‘What paint? When?’
‘You were just born,’ Mikey told her, ‘and the council said Mum could have a budget to paint the bedroom, but they said the paint had to be white and she wanted yellow.’
Mum laughed out loud. ‘Yellow and blue. I stood in that office and told them I wasn’t leaving until they agreed. It was a ridiculous policy – everyone having white walls – what rubbish. I said, why should my kids have to stare at four plain walls, when they can have the colour of sunshine and sky in their rooms?’
Holly plonked herself on her mother’s lap and gave her a hug that was so brand new and abandoned that Mikey wanted one for himself. Karyn shot him a shy smile over their heads and he felt a rush of something for them all – love? Shame? He actually felt like he might cry. It was crazy – the four of them having an OK time together for once, and here he was, choking up.
‘Uh-oh,’ Mum said, ‘here comes trouble.’
Mikey peered over the balcony, glad of a distraction. Jacko was pulling up in his car, reversing into a space over by the bins.
‘He’ll get clamped there,’ Mum said. ‘Run and tell him, Holly. Tell him they’ve clamped three cars down there today.’
‘I’ll go,’ Karyn said. ‘I could do with a walk.’
She slipped on her sandals and the three of them watched as she got up from the deckchair and walked slowly, as if walking was a new thing, along the balcony to the lift door. When she pressed the button, Holly scrambled after her and took her hand. When the lift came they stepped in together.
Mum got herself a new cigarette and offered Mikey one. Their eyes met across the lighter.
‘So,’ he said, ‘she’s outside then.’
‘Ever since Gillian left.’
‘Amazing.’
‘She’s invited her mates over later as well. I think something very important happened when your friend swapped sides.’
‘Swapped sides?’
Mum shrugged. ‘You know what I mean.’
They looked down at Karyn together. She was leaning into the car window, talking to Jacko. Holly was walking across to the boy with the ball.
Mum said, ‘Have you spoken to your friend today?’
‘She rang me from a phonebox when she got out of the police station.’
‘Is she OK?’
‘Not really. Her brother’s not allowed to live in the same house now she’s a witness for the police.’
‘You’re worried about her?’
‘She says her dad’s going to go crazy when he finds out. She was going to a café with her mum to work out how to tell him.’
‘At least she’s got her mum with her.’
‘I suppose.’
Though Mikey wasn’t sure that skinny woman he’d met all those weeks ago would be any help. He took a long drag of his cigarette and exhaled slowly. Ellie had had a weird calm about her on the phone, and when she’d said goodbye, she’d made it sound like for ever. Never before had he been so hungry for someone – never so specifically, so desperately. Whenever he closed his eyes he saw her, her arms spread above her head, her legs wrapping him warm.
He wiped his face with his sleeve and took another puff on his cigarette.
His mum was staring at him.
‘What?’
‘If you hadn’t got to know this girl, Karyn wouldn’t be outside today. You think about that.’
‘You’re saying me knowing Ellie is a good thing?’
‘I’m saying you tried to help your sister and that’s a good thing. I’m not sure any of us would have done any different if we’d been in your little friend’s shoes.’
‘Yeah, well I don’t think Karyn sees it like that.’
‘Give her time.’
He rubbed his nose and thought about it. He looked around at the place where he lived because he didn’t know the answer. There were newly-planted trees in the courtyard, thin little sticks protected by their own wire fences. He looked at the sand pit, the swing, the football area with its goal marked on the wall in red paint. The boy with the ball was still there and Holly was laughing with him about something. Mikey took a last drag of his cigarette and stubbed it out in the Christmas tree pot, picked up a stone he found and held it so it warmed in his hand.
‘I lost my job, Mum.’
‘Oh, Mikey!’
‘I mucked them about too much.’
She shook her head as she stubbed out her own cigarette. ‘Did you tell them how difficult everything’s been?’
‘Not exactly.’
‘You should’ve done. It might’ve helped.’
‘Yeah, maybe.’
‘I’m really sorry about that.’ She looked sorry too. ‘What will you do now?’
He didn’t know. It struck him how suddenly the world goes and changes. Here he was sitting on the step and he couldn’t think of a single thing that was the same as the day before. Yesterday he was with Ellie and today it was over. Yesterday Tom was getting away with it, and today he wasn’t. Yesterday Karyn was glued to the sofa and now she was down in the courtyard. Yesterday he had a job. He sighed and stretched his legs out. Even the weather was freakishly different – constant rain replaced by a low sun pulsing in the sky.
‘Maybe I’ll go down and give Holly a kick-around,’ he said. ‘I’ve been promising her one for weeks.’
‘You do that,’ Mum said. ‘And I tell you what. Why don’t I make us a proper dinner? There’s some chicken pieces in the freezer and I could do potatoes and veggies like I used to. Would you like that?’ She leaned over and stroked his arm.
‘Thanks,’ he said. ‘That’d be great.’
He knew it wouldn’t last for ever, knew it was only one of her cycles, but it was kind. And maybe, like a game of footie with Holly, like the sun in April, it was important to appreciate good things when they came.
Forty-four
Ellie sat on the sofa next to her mother. They’d been sitting there for so long that the room had fallen softly into darkness. Upstairs, Tom was in his bedroom packing. Dad was helping him. Ellie could hear the drag and tear of parcel tape as he sealed up boxes on the landing.
‘Dad’s never going to forgive me,’ she whispered.
Mum squeezed her hand. ‘Your father loves you.’
‘That’s different.’
‘It’s all we’ve got though. When it comes down to it, it’s all we have to hold on to.’
It felt like a belt tightening as Dad came down the stairs. Every muscle in Ellie’s body moved into tension as she watched him stack two new boxes on top of the others in the hall. It was like Tom was dead and they were clearing him out.
‘Is that his Xbox?’ Mum said. ‘Won’t Ben have things like that he can use?’
Dad snapped the lights on in the lounge and stood in the doorway, watching them blink into light. Surely he would stop being angry soon. Surely his fury would simply run out.
‘Ben’s at college all day,’ he said, ‘so Tom will be dependent on the parents’ hospitality. You want your son to feel uncomfortable, asking if he might please watch TV or perhaps borrow a console to help distract him from this nightmare?’
Mum didn’t answer and he shook his head at her as if that simply proved he was right. He strode off down the hallway to the downstairs bathroom. Ellie imagined him rooting through the cabinet in there, hunting down Tom’s shaving gear and deodorant, his favourite hair gel.
‘I suppose I should draw the curtains,’ Mum said. ‘It’s dark outside.’
But she didn’t move.
Dad came back in with Tom’s toilet bag in his hand. ‘How has this confession of yours helped anyone, Eleanor?’ he said. ‘How has it got any of us anywhere?’
‘It was the truth, Dad.’
‘The truth? Oh for God’s sake! I have never, repeat, never, seen your brother this way before. Is that what you wanted?’ He stabbed a finger at the ceiling. ‘He’s sitting up there on his bed, barely able to speak, let alone pack.’
‘Should I go up?’ Mum said.
‘You’re asking me?’
‘Yes, I am.’
‘You’re his bloody mother – shouldn’t you know?’
‘I’m asking you if he wants me up there. If he needs me, I’ll go.’
‘Very noble of you.’ He looked down at their hands clasped together. It seemed to infuriate him more. ‘You should’ve stopped her. You should’ve nailed her bloody feet to the floor.’
‘I couldn’t stop her.’
‘Couldn’t? She’s a child, isn’t she? Do you have no control over your children?’ He scowled at her, his mouth a taut line of disapproval. Then he spun off and out, thumping furiously back up the stairs.
‘Oh God,’ Mum said, and she hid her face in her hands.
Ellie didn’t know what to say, or what to do. ‘I’m sorry,’ she said. It was all she could think of.
She’d done nothing but apologize since they got back from the police station. Mum had sat everyone down in the lounge and told Dad not to interrupt, told Tom she loved him, then informed them both of the new statement Ellie had signed and of her relationship with Mikey. The accusations had gone on for hours.
Dad was climbing up into the loft now. Ellie could hear the creak of the step ladder. Maybe he was getting the Meccano down, the Lego, Tom’s toy farm. All the plastic animals – the cows and horses and sheep, the rows of geese and ducks – would soon be lined up at the door.
‘He’s not on my side at all,’ she said.
‘He is. Of course he is.’
But he wasn’t. She was sullied. Other. No longer his little girl. He had a new blind look, as if he might see someone he couldn’t bear if he looked at her properly.
‘Anyway,’ Mum said, ‘it’s not about sides. I sat in that police station and listened to you and I wanted two things at the same time. I wanted you to stop talking, because I didn’t want to hear terrible things about Tom, and I wanted you to talk all night, because I could see how much it was hurting you to hold it inside.’
She moved over to the window, slid all the pot plants back on the ledge and drew the curtains. The familiar swish was comforting.
Dad broke the spell by coming down with Tom’s cricket bag and bala
ncing it carefully on the hall table, even though the cricket season hadn’t started yet and it could safely have stayed in the loft. Mum sat back down next to Ellie as he crossed the lounge to the drinks cabinet. He took no notice of either of them, poured himself a generous measure of whisky and took one, two, three gulps, swooshing each round his mouth before swallowing. He walked over to the window, reopened the curtains and looked out into the dark as if he was waiting for something. The press? TV crews? He thought this was enormous, bigger than all of them. His daughter had crossed the enemy line. She was anti-Parker. No longer part of the team.
‘How many times did you meet the boy?’
This again. Ellie took a breath. ‘Not many.’
‘Where?’
‘I told you – different places. We went for walks mostly.’
He turned and narrowed his eyes at her. ‘Were you with him yesterday?’
She nodded. It had become imperative to tell the truth, as if any grain of goodness that was left in her life would slip away if she didn’t.
‘Where did you go? I don’t for one minute believe you were at the cinema.’
‘We went to the cottage.’
He blinked at her. ‘You broke in?’
‘The keys were under the pot.’
He took a step forward and glared down at Mum. ‘Did you know this?’
‘Ellie told me, yes.’
‘And you didn’t bother mentioning it?’
‘In the great schemes of things, it felt rather minor.’
‘Rather minor? Well, I’m telling you now, if that place gets ransacked or squatted it will feel rather major, I assure you!’ He slammed the empty tumbler on the coffee table and turned to Ellie. ‘What the hell were you doing there for so long?’
Mum squeezed her hand. This wasn’t the time to share the conversation they’d had in the café after the police station.
‘We cooked potatoes.’
‘In the grate? Christ, girl, you could have burned the place down!’
‘But she didn’t,’ Mum said, sitting forward, ‘and surely that’s the point? I don’t think her friend’s likely to ransack the place either.’