Bad Company (2 page)

‘No one blames you.’

But they do. I can see it in their faces when they pass me in the corridors. And they’re glad that it happened to me. To Lissa Blythe who always thought she was so much better than anyone else. I always used to be surrounded by friends, Nancy and Asra and me, we were always together. It took what happened to J.B. to make me realise how many of them only hung around with me because of who I was … or thought I was. A rich, successful man’s daughter
.

‘I always hoped what happened to your father would make you a better person. More humble. It was all you were lacking, you know. A little humility.’

Humble? Me? Never!

‘Instead,’ his anger came back with force, ‘it only made you worse.’

‘You can say that again. See her, she’s well spoiled, sir.’ This came from Ralph, and he liked the expression so much he had to repeat it. ‘Well spoiled.’

To my surprise Murdo told him to shut up.

‘You’re every bit as bad as she is!’ he shouted at him
.

He eventually let me go, but of course he kept Ralph behind to discuss the banner he is making for the district art competition. At the moment it stretches around the walls of the English classroom. A collage of Great Moments in Literature. He really needs Murdo’s help with that one, considering Ralphie has never read a book in his life. Well, he has now, of course. He had to read them so he could draw the characters. The scenes go from some bloke getting his eyes poked out in King Lear (trust Ralphie to include that one. He’s so bloodthirsty), to Harry Potter, pointing off into the distance to a future where books will always survive. (Murdo’s words, not mine.) He’s always painting new figures and attaching them to the banner. ‘It’s going to be a winner,’ I heard Murdo shouting proudly. He was almost singing it with a happy Highland lilt. No wonder he was happy. It was Murdo who had first recognised Ralph’s talent for art. ‘His potential.’

I left them to it. But I had a miserable day. And it didn’t help knowing that Ralph Aird, big-time loser, has more potential than me
.

I was so miserable when I wrote that. I felt I had nothing in my life. And I was dreading Christmas, even if everyone else in the family was looking forward to it. J.B. would be coming home and my mum couldn’t keep her excitement a secret. She was always cleaning the house so that everything sparkled. She had Jonny helping and even Margo tottered about with her little toy hoover. And how angry Mum was because I wouldn’t help with anything.

But why should I have? I didn’t ever want to see him again. Hadn’t seen him for months. I stopped going to visit him in prison. It scared me. I was always so afraid they’d slam the door shut and not let me out just because I was
his
daughter. Mum didn’t object to me not going. I know she hated taking us there. Not that Jonny minded. He thought it was an adventure. But as I’ve said before, Jonny’s soft in the head.

He thought it was an adventure that Christmas too. Every time there was a knock on the door, or the phone rang he would yell, ‘Is that Daddy now? Is he here yet?’

And he’d made a poster just to welcome him. He had it hung in the hallway of our poky little semi-detached and he had painted it with Mum’s help, all different colours. WELCOME HOME DAD.

It made me puke every time I looked at it.

Even Margo toddled around, nose running, dragging her favourite blanket and sucking her thumb and giggling.

I spent most of my time in my room out of everyone’s way. Determined not to get excited at the prospect of J.B. back in the house. Sitting in his favourite armchair. (Mum had always kept it.) Filling the bathroom with all his shaving gear. (He was always so untidy.) Or finding him and Mum holding each other whenever I walked into the kitchen, or the living room, or any room in the house. They were always holding each other. And I never wanted to see that again.

I wandered round the house after they left to go and pick him up. No amount of pleading would make me change my mind and go with them. This was to be my last few hours without J.B. here and I wanted to savour every second of them. We didn’t need him here. Why couldn’t he have stayed at one of those hostels especially for criminals who had just come out of jail? Why did he have to come here? Why did he have to be with us? Mum had bought the food in this house, with no help from him. She paid the rent. She even put up with the neighbours’ whispered, sneering comments. He would only make things worse. He had no right to come back. As I sat in his armchair, and
waited for their return, I grew angrier and angrier. I didn’t want him back here at all.

And there right in front of me was Jonny’s WELCOME HOME DAD poster. Taunting me, making a fool of me. Everyone else wanted him. The house wanted him. I was, as usual, the odd one out. Well, I’d show him. I’d show them all. I’d show just how unwelcome he really was.

I was lying on my bed when I heard the car pull up outside the house. I recognised the engine. It never sounded healthy. It was an old car, a cheap car. But all that Mum could afford. I heard Margo’s giggling scream as she was lifted high in the air. Even Mum was laughing. I bet every neighbour was peeking out of their net curtains and having a good laugh too. A laugh at us.

Then I heard J.B.’s voice. The first time I’d heard it in such a long time.

‘OK, Jonny boy, what’s the surprise you’ve got for me?’ Footsteps hurrying up the path. Jonny’s excited cries. ‘Daddy, Daddy, Daddy.’ The front door opened. ‘Look what I made for you.’

I heard J.B.’s gasp and Jonny’s excitement turned to tears. ‘My poster, Daddy. My poster.’

‘Who did that!’ Mum screamed, but she knew already.
Her feet were pounding upstairs and she was shouting, ‘Lissa!’

I lay on my bed and I didn’t care. Didn’t care that Jonny’s hard work was all spoiled. Didn’t care that his poster was hanging in shreds along the wall, where I had ripped it and torn it and destroyed it. I was glad.

I heard J.B.’s plea. ‘Leave it, Liz.’

But Mum wouldn’t. When she threw open the door her eyes were wild with anger. ‘How could you, Lissa? You know how much that meant to Jonny. How hard he worked on it.’

I jumped off the bed to face her. I wasn’t ashamed of what I’d done.

‘I won’t have a welcome banner anywhere in this house. Not for him. He’s not welcome here –
ever
!’

Chapter Three

December 25th

This has been the worst Christmas ever. Worse than when J.B. first went into prison and Mum spent the whole day crying, dragging us off to see him in that awful place. I can still remember the thud of the doors as they slammed shut behind us. I never would go back after that. No matter how Mum pleaded. And I tore up the letters he sent me without even reading them after that
.

I thought that Christmas Day would be my worst ever, but I was wrong. This one was worse. It was worse having him here, with Mum laughing and sitting on his knee – how could she do that? And Jonny lying on the floor with him, playing with his big red fire engine. I saw a tear in Mum’s eye as she watched a sleeping Margo draped across his lap in front of the television, while he too slept after Christmas dinner
.

There was a tear in my eye too, but it was with anger.

‘You haven’t opened the present Dad got you,’ Mum said later
.

And I don’t intend to, I told her. How could she think anything else? He’s not buying me with a cheap present. ‘I don’t want anything from him. He’s a crook.’

‘You know he’s paid for that, Lissa. He’ll be paying for that for the rest of his life.’

Good! Why shouldn’t he suffer, I thought, the way he’s made us suffer
.

He even tried to talk to me. He came into the living room while I was searching for a video to watch. He sat across from me, watching me silently
.

I pulled out video after video, throwing them on the floor behind me, as nosily as I could
.

‘I don’t blame you, Lissa, for not being able to forgive me.’

Ha! How kind of him, not blaming me. I don’t think
.

‘I tried to explain so often, in the letters I sent you. Explain and apologise.’

Another couple of videos were thrown on to the floor
.

He sat there still. Couldn’t he see I wanted rid of him? ‘I want to beg your forgiveness. I was greedy. The money was so easy and gave us all such a good life. I got in with the wrong people, though I didn’t realise they were the wrong people at first. I thought it was the job of a lifetime, and when I was asked to cover things up, change a few items on the accounts, I kept telling myself I wasn’t hurting anyone. I suppose I pushed to the back of my mind that the kind of people I was working for didn’t care who they hurt.’

Was he just realising that? Because that had been the thing I couldn’t take, couldn’t understand. The people he was protecting, covering up for, were evil. They killed people. Contract killings, it had said in the papers, gangland bosses, mobsters. People you think only exist in old movies. And stupid old J.B. had gone to prison rather than tell everything he knew about them. I found the video I wanted right at the back of the cabinet. I pushed it into the recorder and switched it on, totally ignoring him. J.B. gave up then. He left the room without another word
.

I wish I could run away. I wish I lived anywhere else but here
.

If Christmas had been bad, going back to school after was even worse.

‘I had the old man home for Christmas as well, Lissa,’ Ralph shouted as I walked into the classroom. ‘Did you have as good a laugh with yours as I did with mine?’

‘Yes,’ I said. ‘But you had to press the suit with the arrows for your dad going back, didn’t you?’

Ralph jumped from his seat and blocked my way. I only stared down at his big clumsy feet and said nothing.

‘See if I was you, I’d keep that suit handy. He’ll need it
when
he
goes back. They always go back. Look at my dad. He’s spent more time in jail than he has with us. He’s a serial jailbird. The leopard cannot change his spots. And your dad’s another leopard.’

There was always that bit in me that rose to Ralph’s bait. I never knew why. Why did I want to make J.B. look better than he was?

‘Actually, J.B. is starting in another position soon.’ I said it as if he was about to be made general manager of some big corporation. ‘He’s sifting through the offers right now.’

That only made Ralph giggle. ‘Would that be the offers he can’t refuse?’ he said, referring to some old gangster movie.

But it was true. I’d heard my mother and him discussing it over Christmas. He had been offered a job. A position. ‘I have to take it,’ he had said. ‘It’s a start. And that’s the most important thing. To earn money. To build my self-esteem again.’

His
self-esteem. As if that was all that mattered.

I had just taken my seat when Murdo slammed into the classroom and almost threw his briefcase at the class.

He was in a bad mood. His face was red and his fiery ginger hair stood on end as if he hadn’t combed it: either that or he’d had an electric shock this morning.

‘There are people here who are not working hard enough.’ His angry gaze surveyed the room, lingered for a second too long on me. ‘The results of the tests you all did before Christmas were A-BOM-IN-ABLE,’ he bawled. ‘You will all do better this term or you will be suspended.’ He paused, then his bawl became an earth-shattering roar. ‘From the top balcony of the English corridor!’

To add more effect he slammed down his desk lid. The whole classroom shuddered.

Then, in that surprising way that Murdo had, he suddenly changed and beamed a smile. ‘Let’s hope our new girl will do better.’

The new girl had made the mistake of sitting right in front of Murdo, but as I watched her wipe her cheek discreetly with her finger, I knew she’d learned her first lesson and would never sit so close to Murdo again.

‘This,’ he hissed, ‘is Diane Connell. Stand up, Diane.’

Diane did and turned to face the class. She looked a prim little miss, with what could only be called a rather superior smile. Her fair hair was held back in a china blue clasp and she had an expensive gold chain around her neck. I glanced across at Ralph. His lip was curled in annoyance as he watched her. He mouthed to his mates, ‘She’s a right wee madam.’

He didn’t like her. Because of that, I decided at once that I did.

I didn’t have any friends left in the school. Maybe it was time I made one. I smiled at the new girl, and she smiled back.

I didn’t know then that Diane Connell was going to change my life.

Chapter Four

January 15th

I think Diane Connell and I are going to be great friends. She’s so funny. She made me laugh five minutes after we started talking in the playground
.

‘Someone might have warned me about Murdo,’ she said. ‘I felt as if I was sitting under Niagara Falls.’ And with that she plucked imaginary spit from her eye. ‘He’s disgusting, isn’t he?’

Well, he is a bit, I had to agree. ‘But he’s nice really,’ I told her
.

She didn’t seem to believe that. ‘Nice? There’s nothing nice about someone who keeps half his lunch stuck in his teeth. Was that broccoli? Or was it cabbage? Something green anyway.’ She pretended to be sick on the playground
.

She doesn’t think our school is a very good one. She was in a much better school before, she says. And will be again, she told me. She’s only here temporarily, till her parents find the ‘right’ school for her. She made the little inverted commas with her fingers when she said that. The ‘right’ school
.

‘I mean, look at all these broken windows,’ she said. ‘And all that graffiti.’ I tried to explain apologetically that the school had a lot of trouble from vandals. It’s always being broken into and stuff stolen or smashed
.