A House Without Windows (19 page)

“He’s a prat.  I’ll get Loaf on my side.”  Joss smiled at the vision of loveliness twirling a strand of black hair around a finger. “Want to come round mine after school?”

“Can’t.  Mum’s picking me up for my piano lesson.”

“Shit.”

“Try again, Darrah.”

“What about Friday?  I’ll tell Mum you’re coming for tea.”

“Ok.”

Joss smiled and felt a warm glow inside.  As he turned around he saw Daniel Summerlee holding up a piece of paper in his direction.  He read the child-like writing:

‘Dead meat’.

He stared at Summerlee as hard as he could without blinking.  The stare was returned. 

“Nice to see you back, Joss.  How are we today?”  Elise Vane tried her best to muster up enough bonhomie to greet her most enthusiastic truant. 

“Better thanks, Mrs Vane.”  Joss unwillingly took his gaze off Summerlee to look at his form mistress.

“I’ll take registration and then I’ve got you all for English.  Mr Sanders is off sick today.”

Elise could hear an almost decipherable groan at the students’ sure and certain knowledge that there would be extra English homework that evening. 

“Hey, Loaf!” Joss whispered to the huge dense-looking teenage boy sitting to his left who had groaned the loudest.

Carl Baker glanced to his right:

“What?”

“I’ll do your English homework for you if you help me out with something.”

“Yeah ok.”

“Meet you back here at break.”

Joss smiled again.  The day was starting out very well
.  What a good thing that Loaf could hardly read a word.

The boy was waiting as soon as Joss returned to the classroom:

“Mrs Vane’s given us that fucking essay to do.  I can’t do it, Joss.”

“I know, but I can.  I’ve got something you can do instead while I’m doing your essay.”

“What’s that?”

“Frighten off Summerlee.  He’s getting on my tits.”

“Yeah, I can do that.  That’s well easy.”  Loaf gave a sinister smile and cracked his knuckles.

“Good man. I’ll do your English Literature one as well, ‘cos it might take you a few tries.”

“Nah.  I’ll scare the shit out of him straight away!” 

“He won’t do anything until later when we’re out of the school gates.”

“I’ll be waiting. Cheers for the essay.”

Joss breathed a sigh of relief. 
Loaf was as thick as shit, but it was good to get him on your side for times such as these.

There was no way out of the school except through the front gates.  His heart began to beat faster as he saw Summerlee waiting for him outside at the end of the day.  He took a second look as he tried to blend in with the exiting students jamming the approach to the gates, but this time Summerlee was not alone; Loaf was there with him.  Joss breathed a sigh of relief as he saw the huge frame towering over his arch enemy.  By the time he had got to the gates only Loaf was waiting, cracking his knuckles:

“He’s scared as fuck now.” 

“Cheers, Loaf.  I owe you one.”

“Yeah, you owe me an essay.”

“I’ll do it tonight with mine.”

Joss fervently hoped that Summerlee would not find out about his date with Tara.  If he did there would be hell to pay.

Turning the key in the lock he was surprised when his mother appeared in the hallway.

“Good day at school?”

“Yeah, great.  Why are you home so early today?”

“The last patient didn’t turn up.”

“Oh.  Is it ok if Tara Lambert comes to tea on Friday?”

“Of course. You can sit in the den with her and play your music afterwards.”

“Oh Mum!” 

“Not in the bedroom. No.”

“The age of consent is 15 now!”

“She won’t be consenting to anything in my house.”

Shit!

Joss skulked upstairs and flung himself on his bed.  There were two messages from Benny on his phone.  He updated his friend with the latest news regarding Tara and Summerlee, but then the two English essays started to prey on his mind.

Bollocks! However, they had to be done. Loaf could hardly read his own name. Time to get to work.  His mother would be well impressed at his diligence.

CHAPTER 50

“That was a lovely meal Mrs Darrah.  Shall I help you clear the table?”  Tara began piling plates one on top of the other.

“Thanks for the offer, but there’s no need.  You and Joss go into the den.”

“Cheers, Mum.”  Joss had half a mind to brazen it out and take Tara upstairs, just to find out if his mother would make a scene. 

“Where’s the den?”  Tara looked around appreciatively at the décor.

“It’s next door. Come on.”  Joss gave his mother a hard stare.

“Wow! What a lovely room!”  Tara gazed at the 52” TV screen and media console.

“It’s mine and Amy’s, and Toby’s too when he’s over here.”

“Who’s Amy and Toby?”

“Amy’s my sister.  She’s in the last year of medical school. She’ll be home at Easter.  Her fiancée Paul is a doctor as well, in fact all my family are doctors except Toby, my step-brother.  He lives in Canada and he’s really, really cool.  He plays guitar in a rock band out there.”

“Which one?”

“They’re called Kick & Scream.”

“Wow! I’ve heard of them.  I didn’t know the guitarist was your brother.”

He’s not!

Tara picked up a 7 string Ibanez from its stand:

“Is this Toby’s?”

“Yeah.  He plays it all the time when he’s here.  I can’t play a note though.”

“Your dad’s really good-looking.”

“He’s not my dad.” 
No!
Joss could have bitten his tongue at the mistake.

Tara was quick on the uptake:

“What do you mean, he’s not your dad?”

“Er... my real dad lives in Croydon.  They’re divorced.”

“I didn’t know that.  Where’s Croydon?”

“It’s in Surrey.  Don’t tell anyone though.”

“Why not?”

“I don’t want you to.”

“Ok.” 

“Why do you call him Dad then if he’s not your dad?”

“I’ve always called him that.”

Tara moved around the room, looking at posters on the walls.

“Can we watch a film?”

“Sure.  I’ll turn on the console and you can pick one.”

Joss was disappointed when Tara chose one of Amy’s romances he had no interest in.  She came and sat down next to him and he felt himself becoming aroused at her nearness.  He put an arm around the back of the sofa and a magazine on his lap.

“You’re cool, Joss Darrah.”

Tara settled back onto the sofa and his fingers touched her hair.  He wanted to burst with happiness at the compliment.  He brought his arm around to encircle her shoulders.

“This is a great evening.  I’m really enjoying myself.”  Tara lifted her face to his and brushed his lips with hers.

“Will you go out with me?”  Joss, emboldened and inflamed with passion, kissed her mouth and touched her tongue with his own.

“Yeah.  I’ll go out with you.”

He didn’t care that the film sucked big time; he felt about ten feet tall.  Just sitting on the sofa with the girl of his dreams was enough to make him forget momentarily that his dad didn’t want to get to know him. 

She snuggled up closer, and he looked down at the curve of her breasts under her thin jumper as the film droned on. 

“Joss; Mrs Lambert is here to pick up Tara.” 

He jumped at the sound of his mother’s voice at the door.  As he saw her tactfully withdraw, Tara disentangled herself from his embrace and smoothed down her skirt:

“I’m working tomorrow at the hairdressers, but I’ll ask Mum if you can come round in the evening.  I’ll phone and let you know.”

“Great.”

With a waft of perfume she was gone.  Joss sat back, closed his eyes, and remembered the warmth of her body against his.  The film they had been watching together was still running, and with a sigh he turned off the console.

“She seems like a nice girl.” Liam smiled as Joss came into the living room.

“She is.  I might be going round her place tomorrow.”

“Will her parents be there?”  His mother was instantly on the alert.

“Don’t worry Mum. I’m sure we’ll be spied on all the time.”

“Mum is concerned, that’s all.  You know how mothers are.” 

Joss looked at the man he used to think of as his father:

“Dad; what did you get up to when you were sixteen?  Did Granny spy on you?”

“All the time.” 

“Did it make you mad as hell?”

“Sure did.  But as I grew older I realized she was just looking out for me until I was wise enough to look out for myself.”

“Are you saying I’m stupid?”  Joss was instantly on the defensive.

“Not at all.  You’re quite the opposite.  I’m saying that Granny was just looking out for me.”

Joss looked into the smiling blue eyes that were nothing like his own.  He wanted to punch his dad on the nose.  The dad that was never his father in the first place, and never would be again.

As he walked upstairs to his room the phone vibrated in his pocket.  When he looked at the screen he was surprised to see Holmleas’ name appear.  He closed his bedroom door for privacy:

“Hello.”

“Can I speak to Joss Darrah please?”  A male voice spoke this time.

“Speaking.”

“This is just to let you know that Mr Evans has changed his mind.  He says you can visit him tomorrow.  Visiting hours in the afternoon are two o’clock until four o’clock.”

His head spun for a moment at the news.  Finally he managed to put a sentence together:

“Tell him I’ll be there.”

CHAPTER 51

The phone vibrated under his pillow at 3am, just as he had planned.  Rubbing his eyes, Joss got out of bed and pulled on a dressing gown.  Making sure to avoid the one creaking floorboard on the landing, he crept downstairs, stepped over the pressure pad by the front door and turned off the burglar alarm.  Making his way along the hallway to the office he hoped his dad’s usual wad of notes would still be in the cash box in the desk drawer.  He took the key from under a book on the shelf above.

Yes!
He counted out £150 in twenty and ten pound notes and stuffed them into his dressing gown pocket.  The wad looked decidedly thinner as he locked up the cash box again and replaced the key, but at that particular moment he did not care at all.  Closing the office door quietly, he crept back up the hallway and turned the burglar alarm back on. There was a succession of rapid beeps as it sprang back to life, and Joss held his breath as he knew his mother was a very light sleeper.

When no footsteps could be heard in the main bedroom, he tiptoed upstairs, stepped over the noisy floorboard, and with a sigh of relief crept into his bedroom.  He took the notes out of his pocket and placed them in the front zipped compartment of his rucksack.  He then climbed back into bed and slept fitfully until he heard his parents getting up for their Saturday morning clinics.

“Morning Joss.  Have you got anything planned today?”  His mother passed him some hot toast.

“Yeah.  I’m going into Norwich with Tara, and then I’m going back to her place at Eaton for dinner later on.”

“Yes, I swapped addresses and phone numbers with Tara’s mother yesterday.  It’s nice out that way.”

“Mum, you don’t have to keep ringing her up every five minutes to check on me. I’ll get the bus there and her mum will give me a lift back tonight.”

“I won’t ring, darling, it’s just in case of an emergency so I know where you are.  Call if you need anything.  We’re always on the other end of the phone, you know that.”

“Yeah.”
His mother was crazy; always worried that something would happen.

Waiting impatiently for his parents to leave the house, Joss synched the train journey and directions to the hospital from his iPad to his phone, and then raided the kitchen for extra food to fill his rucksack with on hearing their car pulling out of the driveway. 

He made it to the station in ten minutes:

“Return ticket to East Croydon please. I’m paying cash.”

“Nobody pays with cash these days.”  The old station master looked surprised to receive a handful of twenty pound notes.

“I do.  I haven’t got a bank account.”

“Ok. Well, when you get to Liverpool Street you get the Central line tube to Bank, and then the Northern line to London Bridge. After that you have to get the overland from London Bridge to East Croydon.”

“That’s exactly what it says on my phone.”

“Why am I needed here I ask myself?”

“You’re not.  Cheers Granddad.”  Joss took the ticket. “Which platform?”

“I thought I wasn’t wanted?”

“Just for today, and then you can retire.”

“Platform three.  Next train in. Express.”
Smart arse.

He had been on a train only once before in his whole life.  He thought back and remembered going with his parents and Toby to London a couple of years’ ago in the summer holidays. 
Toby had been a right arsehole and had wanted to spend all the time looking around boring music shops in Denmark Street.