Lucas (26 page)

Lucas looked at me. ‘You know, it'd save everyone a lot of bother if I cut him up and buried him in the woods.'

‘For God's
sake
, Lucas …'

I stopped when I realised he was smiling at me.

As we walked back up the lane to check on Dominic, I couldn't stop thinking about what I'd just witnessed. I'd never experienced any real violence before, and now that I had I didn't know what to think about it. Of course, I was glad that I was safe, and I can't pretend that I didn't enjoy seeing Jamie Tait suffer … but whatever sense of relief I
had was completely outweighed by my reaction to the violence itself. Its sheer power, its brutal simplicity, the way it cut straight to the heart of things – it was breathtaking. Up until then I'd always gone along with the idea that violence never solves anything … but now, I wasn't so sure. I was beginning to realise that violence
can
be a legitimate answer. It
can
solve things. And I wasn't sure I liked that.

I glanced at Lucas, walking calmly beside me. He had the face of a young boy again. It was almost impossible to believe that a few moments ago he'd nearly committed an act of atrocity. If I hadn't stopped him when I did …

I looked over my shoulder. Jamie had got to his knees and was throwing up at the side of the lane.

‘Would you really have done it?' I asked Lucas.

‘Done what?'

‘You know … cut off his thing.'

He looked at me, his face a picture of innocence. ‘What do you think I am – some kind of animal?'

Dominic was still out cold. Lucas knelt down and checked him over. First he examined his head, looking in his mouth and his eyes, then he ran his hands over his body, and finally he checked his pulse.

‘He's all right,' he said, standing up. ‘He'll come round in a minute. Get him on his side and loosen his clothing.' He looked down the lane, watching Jamie as he staggered off into the distance, and then he turned back to me. ‘He's gone. I'm just going to check on the other one.'

I watched him walk over and squat down beside Bren-dell, and then I tended to Dominic. His skin was pale and cold to the touch and his breathing was still quite shallow. I got him into the recovery position. His eyes started fluttering and a faint groan sounded in the back of his throat.
I pulled a handkerchief from my pocket, spat on it, and dabbed at the egg-sized swelling on the side of his head.

After a while I heard Lucas come up behind me.

I looked up at him. ‘How's Brendell?'

‘He'll live.'

I wiped a smear of dirt from Dominic's face. Lucas crouched down beside me with a wad of crushed dock leaves in his hand. He put a hand on my leg and told me to hold still, then gently cleaned the cut on my knee. The crushed leaves felt cool and refreshing on my skin.

‘Thanks,' I said.

He smiled.

‘I mean, for everything. If you hadn't come along when you did …' My voice started trembling and my whole body began to shake. ‘Oh, Lucas … he was going to …'

Lucas took my hand and helped me to my feet. ‘It's over,' he said. ‘You're safe. They won't bother you again.'

I shook my head. ‘It'll never be over …'

And then I broke down and cried. I wept so hard I thought I was going to die. The tears welled up from somewhere deep inside, wracking my body with a violent trembling that sucked the air from my lungs and had me gasping for breath. God, it hurt so much … everything hurt. And that just made me cry even harder. Lucas stepped forward and took me in his arms. I held him tight and let the tears flood out.

‘It's all right,' he whispered. ‘It's all right …'

But I knew it wasn't.

When I finally stopped crying, I felt drained, sick, and ugly. My eyes were swollen, my chest ached, my neck hurt, and my face was caked in snot and tears. Also, my fingers hurt from clinging so hard to Lucas. As I sniffed and
reached for my handkerchief, he gently prised himself away.

‘Your brother,' he said.

‘What?'

He nodded at Dominic. I looked down to see him getting gingerly to his feet, holding his head and groaning.

‘What the hell's going on?' he mumbled, swaying from side to side and blinking at the sunlight. ‘Cait? What are you doing here? What happened?' He squinted at Lucas, then his eyes widened and he took a step back. ‘Hey – what are you …?' He groaned again and put his hand to his head. ‘God – who hit me? Did you hit me? Where's Jamie …?'

‘Shut up, Dom,' I said.

‘What—'

‘Just shut up and listen.'

We sat him down and explained everything … well, almost everything. I toned down Jamie's intentions and left out a few unnecessary details, but I told him as much as he needed to know. I think he was suffering from a slight concussion. At first, he didn't seem to understand what I was saying, he just sat there with a dazed look on his face. Then all at once he jumped to his feet and started ranting and raving, saying he was going to kill Jamie, kill Brendell …

‘For God's sake,' I sighed.

‘I'll bloody
kill
him—'

‘Shut
UP
!'

He stared at me, all hurt and offended. ‘What? What's the matter? I was only—'

‘Don't,' I snapped, close to tears. ‘Just don't say another word.'

His mouth opened and he started to say something, but when he saw the look on my face he changed his mind.
He couldn't keep it up for long, though, and within a couple of seconds he'd turned his attention to Lucas.

‘Yeah?' he said. ‘What are you looking at?'

Lucas smiled. ‘I think it's time we had a little chat.'

After double-checking that Jamie had gone and Brendell was still unconscious, Lucas walked Dominic up the lane and spent a couple of minutes talking to him. There were no wagging fingers, no raised voices, they just stood there facing each other like a couple of old ladies having a natter. When they came back Dominic was quiet and thoughtful and he couldn't look me in the eye.

I don't know what Lucas said to him – I've never asked, and Dominic's never told me – but as the three of us headed back through the woods I began to think I might have a brother again.

After all I'd been through, it was about as much consolation as a £10 lottery win the day after your house burns down.

We walked in silence, like weary soldiers returning from the battlefield, all lost in our own troubled minds. Come to think of it, we probably looked like soldiers, too. Dominic with his battered head, me with my wounded knee, and Lucas in his green fatigues with a knife stuck down his belt. It was a hard journey, both mentally and physically, and by the time we reached the cornfield at the edge of the woods, my mind and my knee were both beginning to throb.

Lucas, who was leading the way, stopped and turned around. Me and Dominic shuffled to a halt in front of him.

‘Right,' he said, looking at both of us. ‘You'd better start thinking about what you're going to tell your dad. Truth
or lies? You can't just go home looking like that and hope he won't notice anything.'

I looked at Dominic to see if he had any ideas, but he still wasn't ready to talk. There was a blank, almost drugged look on his face. I don't know if it was self-pity or guilt or what, but whatever it was, it was starting to get on my nerves.

I said to Lucas, ‘I don't think I can tell Dad the truth – not yet, anyway. It's too complicated. I need some time to think about things.'

‘You'll have to tell him something,' Lucas said.

‘If I can get in the house without him seeing me, I think it'll be all right. As long as I don't wear shorts, he won't notice the cut on my knee.'

‘You'd better cover up your arms, too,' Lucas suggested.

I looked down. There was a hand-sized bruise on my elbow where Jamie had grabbed me. ‘What about my neck,' I said. ‘It feels a bit sore.'

Lucas gently lifted my chin with his finger and took a close look. ‘No, it's all right. Just a bit red. You can hardly see it.' He smiled at me, then his eyes hardened and he turned to Dominic. ‘What about you?'

Dom blinked. ‘Uh?'

Lucas moved towards him. ‘Come on, snap out of it. There'll be plenty of time for feeling sorry for yourself later. Right now you've got to help your sister.'

Dom glanced at me and nodded.

Lucas said, ‘Right. Start thinking. Give me some lies. What happened to your head?'

Dom licked his lips. ‘Uh … I was drunk.'

‘Where?'

‘Brendell's boat?'

‘Good. What happened?'

‘He hit me with a pool cue.'

‘Who did?'

‘Brendell.'

‘Why?'

‘He likes hitting people.'

Lucas nodded. ‘That'll do. It's stupid enough to make sense. When you get home, you go in first and find your father. Tell him what you just told me. Then, when he starts giving you hell, Cait can sneak in without being seen. Have you got that?'

Dom nodded again.

Lucas looked at him. ‘Well – what are you waiting for?'

‘Aren't you coming?'

‘I want a word with Cait. It won't take long. Go and wait for her in the lane.'

Dom hesitated, looking at me.

‘It's all right,' I told him.

He thought about it for a moment, looking hard at Lucas, then he climbed the bank into the cornfield and headed towards the lane. I waited until he was out of sight and then I moved towards Lucas. I didn't think about it. It just happened. It seemed the most natural thing in the world. But when I reached him and went to hold him, an embarrassed look crossed his face and he took a step back.

‘What's the matter?' I said.

‘Cait …'

‘What?'

Without saying anything, he looked me in the eye. I looked back. He didn't
have
to say anything, his eyes said it all. I knew what he meant.

I stepped back, feeling a bit foolish. ‘Sorry.'

Lucas grinned. ‘Me too.'

‘It's been a funny old day, as my dad would say.'

‘That's the truth of it.'

Just for a moment I felt as if I'd been here before … only it wasn't here, it was somewhere else. And Lucas was some
one
else, someone familiar, and we were talking about secrets …

I'm not a child
.

‘Cait?' said Lucas

I looked at him. ‘I'm not …'

‘You're not what?'

I shook my head. ‘Nothing. I was just … it's nothing.' I stretched my neck and looked up at the sky, then breathed in deeply and looked down at the ground. The light was greying and the evening shadows were lengthening. Strangely enough, the woods looked lighter than they had this afternoon.

‘What are you going to do?' I asked Lucas.

‘About what?'

‘Come on – you
know
what. Jamie Tait's not going to forget what you did to him.'

‘I know.'

‘There's going to be a lot of people looking for you.'

‘I know.'

I looked at him. ‘You're leaving, aren't you?'

‘I always was.'

‘When?'

‘Sunday, probably.'

‘Sunday?'

He shrugged. ‘I've managed to avoid getting my legs broken so far. I think I can probably last another couple of days. Besides, I've got a festival to go to …'

I laughed. ‘And some new boots to buy.'

‘I thought you were buying them?'

‘I don't know your size.'

We smiled at each other. It was an awkward moment, with all sorts of unspoken things bubbling away beneath the surface, and after a while we both looked away.

That was us, I realise now. Us – a moment. That was what we were: a moment. No past, no future, nothing beyond the present. It was almost as if we were different people when we were together, people who only existed in the present. And in its own way, that was perfect. It's just that it would have been nice to be somewhere else once in a while.

‘You'd better go,' Lucas said. ‘Your brother'll be wondering what's going on.'

‘Let him wonder. What are you going to do for the next couple of days?'

‘Hide, mostly.'

‘Good.'

‘I don't know what time I'll get there on Saturday—'

‘Don't worry. I'll be there all day.'

He looked at me. ‘Don't be too hard on your brother. And try not to worry. I'll always be close.'

Before I could ask what he meant, he came over and kissed me on the cheek, then turned around and headed off into the woods. I was so surprised I couldn't move for a moment. As I watched him merge silently into the dark of the woods, I touched my cheek and put my hand to my mouth.

His kiss tasted of sweet tobacco.

I
haven't been back to Joe Rampton's lane since that day, and I don't think I ever will. It's a shame because I always used to like it there. The leafy hedgerows, the warm summer shadows, the smell of maize and honeysuckle … it was a special kind of place.

Now it's just a sick memory.

I try not to think about it too much, but sometimes it's hard not to, especially at night when the air is thick and hot, or when I catch the smell of certain things, like whiskey or glass or stale aftershave, or sometimes even when I'm just having a wee. Then it all comes flooding back – the drunken menace, the violence, the heat, the disabling sense of fear …

I suppose it would have helped to tell someone about it. As Dad said, it probably wouldn't have made me feel any better, it might even have made things worse for a while, but at least it might have given the pain some life. Maybe that's why I'm telling it now, to relieve the pain … or maybe not. I don't know. Things are different now. My outlook has changed. I'm older, things have moved on …