She took off her coat and flung it on the grass, stood up, unzipped her skirt and let it fall to her feet.
‘What are you doing?’ he said quietly.
‘Taking off my clothes.’
‘Why are you doing that?’
She took off her cardigan and tights, but left her underwear and shirt on. She tried not to think about her fat thighs, but was really glad she’d shaved her legs the night before.
She turned to him. ‘You fancy a swim?’
He looked astonished. ‘In the river?’
‘Why not?’
‘It’ll be freezing!’
‘Are you scared?’
‘No, I just haven’t got swimming stuff.’
She waved a hand at herself. ‘Neither have I.’
He frowned, pulled his jeans down an inch, as if he was checking to see if, by a miracle, he had swimming trunks on. She saw the top of his boxer shorts. There was very fine hair at the bottom of his belly, gathering to shadow. He caught her looking, and to stop herself blushing, she said, ‘I dare you.’
He stared back at her for a moment, and then he laughed.
‘Well,’ he said. ‘If you’re going to dare me.’
He kicked off his trainers, pulled off his jacket and unbuckled his jeans. Ellie couldn’t look, didn’t want to melt. She turned away and walked down the slope towards the water. The grass ran out near the edge, turned to mud pocked with gravel. It sucked at her toes.
She doubted herself now. She’d done this loads of times before, but it looked dark in the water today and so murky that anything could be hiding. There were weeds at the edge and rushes gripping the side of the bank. But she couldn’t show him she was afraid. She needed to keep being interesting to hold his attention.
She didn’t even look as she jumped. She knew if she did, she wouldn’t be able to do it. Instead, she screwed her eyes shut and leaped into the air. The cold shock of the water was crazy. It was like falling from a plane, plummeting somewhere so alien-cold that ice might gather on her outstretched arms.
‘What’s it like?’ he called. He was hugging himself on the riverbank. He looked old-fashioned standing there in his underwear.
She couldn’t answer. She had to keep moving it was so cold. She swam breast stroke to the opposite bank, then front crawl on the turn. She loved that feeling – swimming without thinking, celebrating the water like she owned it. She enjoyed the rhythm and discipline of it. When she’d been a member of the swimming club, she’d swum forty lengths every morning and come out feeling brain-washed, clean, alert.
‘Coming in,’ he shouted. He sounded as if he was trying to convince himself. It made her smile. She recognized that male bravado from Tom, convincing yourself at the same time as you convinced everyone else. Her dad did it with maps.
He tucked in his knees and jumped like she had. He yelled, all arms and legs, and a splash so big she had to turn her face away. When she looked back he’d disappeared beneath the water. She watched the bubbles and waited.
He came up gasping for air. ‘God, it’s cold.’ He looked as if he was crying as water clung to his eyelashes and dripped down his cheeks.
‘Feels good though, eh?’
‘It’s freezing!’
She swam to him, smiling. ‘Can’t you handle it?’
He splashed her. She splashed him back. He tried to dunk her, but he didn’t know she was fast and could get away from him easily. She let him almost catch her, then sank beneath the surface, came up behind him and dunked him first. She swam away laughing. She floated on her back and looked at the sky. She hoped she looked thin and in control. The way her lungs stretched and accommodated made her feel like an athlete.
She grabbed hold of a low branch and watched him swim up to her. He grabbed hold of it too and they hung there together. When they didn’t move, the river lay smooth, the water cloudy and dark.
‘What happens if you drink it?’ he said.
‘You die.’
He looked startled. ‘Serious?’
She grinned. ‘No, it’s Grade B, which is pretty clean. About three miles further along it spreads out into creeks and goes through the salt marshes. You wouldn’t want to swim in it there.’
‘Why not?’
‘It’s tidal by then, so you never know what the depth is. There’s loads of sinking mud too.’
‘I like how you know things,’ he said, and he looked right at her.
‘You do?’
‘I like a lot about you, in fact.’
It sounded like such a line, she laughed.
‘Your lips are blue,’ he said.
He reached across and touched her mouth with his finger as if he could brush the cold away. And it was astonishing the things her body did in response – her heart racing, the crazy adrenalin rush. She wanted to kiss his finger. Or lick it. She wanted him to put it in her mouth.
‘You don’t exactly look warm yourself,’ she whispered.
‘Maybe we should get out then.’
But neither of them moved.
He leaned towards her. His eyes were brown flecked with dark gold. He kissed her very gently. His hand touched her cheek as if she was infinitely precious.
After a while, he pulled back and said, ‘I really think we should get out. You’re shivering like mad.’
She buried her nose and mouth in the curve of his neck and kissed him once there to say goodbye. Then the two of them clambered up the side of the riverbank and raced to the spot where they’d left their clothes.
She grabbed her tights to use as a towel; he did the same with his T-shirt. They hopped about, teeth chattering, rubbing themselves dry.
‘Run,’ he said. ‘Come on, we need to get warm.’
He grabbed her hand and pulled her along the grass. At the trees she wheeled him round and made them skip back. They took it in turns with instructions. Up and down the riverbank – jumping one way, hopping back, pogo-ing, aeroplane impressions (wings, plus engine sounds), before sinking ragged and laughing onto the grass.
‘That,’ he said, ‘has only just begun to warm me up. I swear I’ve never been so cold in my life.’
‘You should try the sea next,’ she laughed. ‘And I don’t mean the sea anywhere tame, I mean the wild sea. My gran’s got this cottage over by the bay and there’s a great beach there. It’s got amazing waves, really ferocious. I’ll take you one day if you like.’
‘Promise?’
‘Course.’
And they both smiled, like they knew something, and his hand reached hers and clasped it tight, like being chosen and taken care of.
And that’s when his phone rang again.
Don’t answer it, she thought. Stay here with me. But he let go of her hand, leaned over for his jacket and fumbled in the pocket for his phone. When he saw who it was he stood up and walked a few steps down the slope.
‘Again?’ he said. It was a different voice from the one he’d used earlier. It had an edge of fear to it. ‘What did you open it for? I told you not to. Why would you do that?’
He flicked Ellie a look.
‘Is it your sister?’ she mouthed.
He nodded, took a couple more steps down the slope. ‘All right, calm down, they’ve gone now. No, I’m not telling you off. Listen, Holly, this is what I’m going to do. I’m going to come and see you, OK? I’ll get Jacko to give me a lift and I’ll be with you in twenty minutes. No, babe, I can’t stay, I’ve got to go to work, but I’ll bring you a treat. What would you like me to bring?’
Ellie pulled her clothes towards her. She managed to unbutton her wet shirt and swap it for her cardigan and coat without him seeing as he said goodbye to his sister. He immediately made another call and arranged to meet his friend at the cemetery gate in ten minutes.
That was it then. Day over. She’d known it was too good to last.
He slid his phone shut and walked back up the slope. ‘Sorry,’ he said.
‘That sounded difficult.’
‘My
sister’s upset. She’s only eight and some people knocked on the door and she opened it and scared herself.’
‘Wasn’t your mum there?’
‘She had to pop out.’
‘Who were the people?’
‘Um, no one, just random people. Anyway, I have to go.’
Ellie scrambled quickly into her skirt as if she’d been thinking the very same thing. Across the grass, he pulled on his jeans and socks and trainers. The moment when they’d kissed felt like a lifetime ago.
‘Where do you work?’ she said.
‘In a pub. It’s not in town, so you wouldn’t know it. It’s one of the touristy places down by the harbour.’
She kept quiet, hoping he’d invite her for lunch after he’d sorted his sister out. She could sit at the bar and chat to him, order a sandwich. She’d like that. But he didn’t ask. In fact, he didn’t say anything and his whole face closed down as if he never would again.
They walked back in silence. Her shoes were too big without her tights and slapped loudly on the path. Her wet underwear felt clammy and rubbed the inside of her thighs and under her arms. She trailed her wet shirt and tights from one hand, letting them scrape the ground, letting them gather dust and leaves and twigs. She didn’t care. She wanted to collect stuff – secret smells and things from the path. She’d examine them when she got home and maybe what happened in the water might seem real.
But where the path came to the slope, and where the slope led them back to the graveyard and the bench, he stalled. He turned to her very seriously.
‘I like you,’ he said.
He made it sound as if she was bound to disagree with him. She nodded. His face said he was telling her something very important.
He said, ‘I mean it. Whatever happens, you have to believe that.’
‘That sounds a bit dramatic.’
He looked at his mobile again. ‘I’ve gotta go.’
They walked together through the graveyard and out through the wooden gate. It was still way too early for school to finish and there was no one around. He seemed nervous standing out on the street. Didn’t he want to be seen with her in public? Maybe she was too ugly. Or maybe he did have a girlfriend and what happened on the phone wasn’t anything to do with his sister.
‘Well, I’ll say goodbye here then,’ he said.
She needed to get back to the main road too, so even though he obviously didn’t want to, they walked together towards the junction. He walked slightly in front of her, head down, hands in pockets.
When the car pulled up, he didn’t even notice.
‘That bloke in the car’s waving,’ she told him. ‘Is that your friend?’
The car stopped right beside them. The window opened and the driver leaned over. ‘Hey, man,’ he said, ‘jump in.’
Ellie stood awkwardly on the pavement as he got into the car. She wasn’t sure what to do next. Would he ask her if she wanted a lift? If he did, should she say yes? Or should she make some cool excuse and walk away as if she too had somewhere to be?
The other boy grinned, said, ‘Sorry to steal him away.’
It sounded as if the gatecrasher was hers, as if they were a couple, as if she had rights.
She smiled. ‘That’s OK.’
They both looked at her then, but she didn’t feel seen. It was as if they looked only at the outside – her clothes, her ridiculous shoes. The gatecrasher’s eyes seemed covered in some glaze that made him different from how he’d been at the river.
‘Well,’ she said, ‘see you around.’
He nodded, barely looked at her as the car pulled away.
Fourteen
Mikey sat on the edge of the sofa and tried to look normal. He stared at the carpet, then at the cop’s flat black shoes. He crossed his fingers and tried to think of something other than now, other than here. But the only things that came into his head were to do with this woman. What if she opened cupboards and searched around? Was she allowed to do that? Everything he’d shoved away that morning would fall on the floor at her feet – the dirty clothes and unwashed plates, the bottles and ashtrays and empty crisp packets. Things had got slightly out of control since Karyn stopped pulling her weight. What if this woman went upstairs and found Mum in her bed with the worst hangover of the year so far? Cops hunted for clues everywhere, didn’t they? Like sniffer dogs.
‘So,’ she said, ‘it’s a shame Karyn doesn’t want to come down and join us.’
‘Yeah, she’s not feeling well.’
He looked up and their eyes met. He knew he was blushing, knew she saw it happen. She glanced at her watch.
‘Do you think Mum will be much longer? Would you mind ringing her one more time?’
He should have thought more carefully before he said she’d popped to the shops. He should’ve come up with some story that involved her visiting a sick relative miles away. Ireland would’ve been safe. It took a whole day to get back from there.
‘Perhaps if she doesn’t answer this time, you could leave a message and ask her to call you back?’
He hated the sound of Mum’s messaging service. He’d rung it loads over the last few days, and every time she sounded very far away and absolutely like she didn’t give a shit. When she’d reappeared last night, he’d told her how pissed off that made him – to be left in charge with no idea where she was or if she was safe. She cried. She told him sorry. Same old story.
‘Hey, Mum, it’s me. Karyn’s policewoman’s here and wants to talk to us, remember? We’re sitting waiting for you, so can you hurry up?’ He slid the phone shut and forced a smile. ‘You could talk to me instead. I mean, if she doesn’t come back before you have to go. I can just pass it all on when I see her.’
The cop nodded. ‘There are some things I’d like to talk with you about, Mikey, but I also hoped to see Mum and Karyn. I wanted to explain to the whole family why I asked social services to get involved.’
‘You scared the hell out of Holly turning up like that last week.’
‘Yes, she opened the door and got upset. I’m sorry about that, but we did have an appointment, and Mum was aware of it. Didn’t she mention that to you?’
No, she bloody didn’t, and he couldn’t believe she’d managed to hide it. Maybe that was why she’d gone on a bender. She must’ve got freaked out by the cop grassing them up.
‘I’ve been working with Karyn for a while now, Mikey, and as I’m sure you’re aware, she often refuses to talk to me. She’s quite suspicious of the police, I think, and won’t let me put her in touch with other services, like counselling or a rape crisis centre.’
Mikey flinched at that word, hated it.
‘Over the weeks I’ve known her, I’ve begun to realize that perhaps there might be deeper issues within the family that are preventing her from moving forwards.’
‘Like what?’
‘It’s complex, Mikey, but to give you an example, I’ve noticed that Mum’s often asleep during the day, which means Karyn is alone a lot of the time. I’ve also noticed that Karyn takes on a lot of the care for her sister and feels obliged to help out with various domestic tasks such as cooking and cleaning that perhaps shouldn’t be her responsibility right now.’
‘She’s always done that stuff. She likes it.’
‘Maybe, but at the moment, it doesn’t feel as if she has much choice in the matter. So, I contacted social services to help me get a better picture of the family.’
‘You say Karyn’s suspicious of you, but you’ve made it worse. Spying on the rest of us isn’t going to make her trust you, is it?’
‘I have a duty to report things that are troubling, Mikey, and, to be frank, there are things in this family that I find concerning.’
‘Like my mum having a kip during the day?’
‘Not only that. Holly too.’
‘Holly? What are you worried about her for? She’s fine.’
‘She’s often not in school, Mikey, and when I contacted her teacher, I was told that when Holl
y does turn up, she’s often late, or else she’s collected late at the end of the day. Apparently she’s not had a book bag or PE kit with her for weeks now.’
‘You’re supposed to be here for Karyn. Why do you care about Holly forgetting her PE kit?’
‘I am here for Karyn, but I have to look at her situation in context. An eight-year-old not going to school rings alarm bells, Mikey.’
She liked nosing around is what she meant. Karyn should’ve kept her cop on a tighter leash, been nice to her, chatted her up, distracted her from the rest of them.
‘Is Holly in school today?’
The questions were starting. He had to concentrate.
‘Yeah, I took her.’
‘Well, that’s great. Is it usually you who takes her?’
‘It used to be Karyn, but now me and Mum take it in turns.’
Maybe if he promised to get Holly to school on time every day, this woman would get social services off their backs. He hated her being here, like some kind of bright needle in the lounge. If he got her on his side, if he made her think he was brilliant at everything, then maybe she’d go away and take all her nosy mates with her.
‘So,’ she said, ‘Mum’s picking Holly up later, is she?’
‘Yeah.’ He took a deep breath. ‘Listen, would you like a cup of tea?’
She smiled across at him. ‘That’d be lovely, thank you. Milk, no sugar, please.’
Well, that was a relief, since they didn’t actually have any sugar. He went round the corner to the kitchen, put the kettle on and swilled the last dregs of milk around the bottom of the carton. He gave it a sniff. It was just about OK.
He watched her as he waited for the water to boil, caught her eyeing up the cards and magazines Karyn had got from her mates, checking out the curtains and TV, making sure the DVDs weren’t all triple Xs.
The tea went well – the right colour and the milk didn’t do that disgusting floating thing. He took it through and put it on the table in front of her, then sat back down.