Dark Ride (9 page)

C
HAPTER
20

 

Comfort and Joy

 

‘And this is just a little something extra from me, Jelly-B.’

Dad reached behind the cushion on the sofa and handed me a small, wrapped package. Mum looked at him sharply but his eyes were only on me, twinkling.

He’d turned up late on Christmas Eve. I’d tried to stay awake, but by eleven-thirty I couldn’t keep my eyes open any longer. Voices from downstairs had lured me back to consciousness.

‘I can’t believe you actually went to the pub before coming here!’ Mum’s voice went rat-at-at-at, like a gun. Dad’s, though, was mellow as hot chocolate.

‘I’ve been travelling since this morning,’ he said, ‘and I needed a bit of Dutch courage, if you must know. I only went in for one.’

‘Well, your daughter tried to stay awake but she’s only a child. You’ll have to see her in the morning.’

‘Dad!’

I shot down the stairs and into his arms at full-pelt. His battered old leather jacket smelled of cigarettes and Daddishness. He hugged me for ages, his chin resting on the top of my head.

Then he held me back and looked at me, both of us grinning like crazy.

His hair had got longer and I could see grey in his stubbly chin. He looked the same but different all at once. There was a beery smell on his breath and his eyes were a bit red.

‘Sorry, I’m so late,’ he said. ‘I didn’t mean to wake you up. You look about five years older. This sea air is obviously good for you!’

I wanted to reply but to my horror I wasn’t able to speak at all. I clung onto him, hiding my face in his jacket.

Dad just hugged me harder, making little shushing noises and saying, ‘Hey, now, what’s all this?’

I wanted to tell him everything ... about how horrible it was here, about Luka, about how scared I was about starting school. But I couldn’t speak.

He hugged me a bit longer and then Mum packed me off to bed.

I woke the next morning feeling excited about Christmas for the first time.

I could see that Dad had slept on the sofa. He was outside having a cigarette when I came down and he turned and waved through the kitchen window. His face was all creased and Mum’s eyes looked swollen, but we had Christmassy music on and even the stupid old fake tree didn’t look too bad as I got amongst my presents.

Mum had bought small things for Dad – just some socks and the smelly shower stuff he liked. But when she unwrapped the present from him – an expensive-looking velvet scarf with little beads sewn into it – she’d stared down at it in her lap for a moment, stroking it like a cat. Then she’d thanked him stiffly, avoiding his eyes.

That was when he said the thing about having something extra for me.

I unwrapped the paper carefully and inside was a see-through plastic box containing a shiny blue, impossibly beautiful, brand new iPod.

‘Dad!’ I flung my arms round his neck.

‘Now then,’ he chuckled. ‘Just make sure you don’t put any rubbish on it, because I’ll be checking.’

Mum got up sharply from her seat and left the room. I saw Dad watch her go and then heard some banging around in the kitchen. Dad gave a heavy sigh and got up, winking at me before following her out of the room.

They were talking quietly at first, with the kitchen door shut. I tried to turn up the telly and ignore them, eating my selection box and stroking my iPod. Mum was probably just jealous, but my stomach went all cold and sore, like it always did when they fought, and the chocolate tasted like wood. Soon they were shouting. Snatches drifted into the room like a bad smell. I could mainly hear Mum.

‘You haven’t paid a penny since we moved and then you go flinging money on expensive presents you can’t afford? And when are you going to tell her, Steve? I’m fed up with being the bad guy.’

I forced myself to my feet and walked to the kitchen as though about to be strapped into the electric chair. I didn’t want to do it but I knew I had to.

I pushed open the door and Mum and Dad instantly stopped arguing and stared at me like a couple of gormless fish.

‘Tell me what?’ I said and Dad shot a furious look at Mum.

‘Now look what you’ve done,’ he hissed, but Mum just tipped her chin, defiantly.

‘Your child has a right to know what’s going on,’ she said, her voice trembling.

I felt my knees buckle so hard I had to sit down. Dad came over and swung another chair round the other way in one easy movement. His face was a picture of concern and guilt as he sat down.

‘Bel,’ he said. ‘The thing is, me and your mum aren’t really together any more and haven’t been for a long time.’

‘Just tell her,’ said Mum in a flat voice.

‘I’m getting to it!’ he snapped and Mum turned away and stood at the sink, looking out.

‘And while I’ve been away, I’ve become ... close to someone else.’

I jumped up from the table so my chair screeched. ‘No, no, I don’t even want to hear this,’ I said, covering my ears. I went to leave the room but Dad grabbed my arm.

‘Sweetheart, it doesn’t mean I don’t want you any more. But things change. People change. Sometimes relationships have to move on.’

I shook my arm free and stormed out.

‘It only happened when we’d already split up!’ he called after me but I ran up the stairs, still covering my ears.

Just after, I heard the front door slam so hard the house shook.

Needless to say, it was the worst Christmas Day in the history of time.

Dad came back eventually, looking very sheepish, but I made it clear I didn’t want to talk about any of it any more. We ate turkey and watched telly in virtual silence. Dad wanted to load the software for my new iPod but when he realised we had no internet connection he lost his temper, kicking the table when he thought I wasn’t looking.

The only thing that made any of it bearable was thinking about Luka and replaying our goodbye kiss over and over in my mind. It was like being in prison and I even thought about sneaking out to see him but knew I’d never get away with it. So I just endured the long, long day and, when bedtime came, I was grateful. The atmosphere was horrible in the house and it was only when I was in my bedroom that I felt I could breathe properly.

***

 

In the morning, I turned over in bed and an emptiness in the air told me Dad had gone.

I ran downstairs and found Mum sitting at the kitchen table in her dressing gown, cradling a hot mug of coffee. Her eyes were red and her hair was all over the place.

‘Where’s Dad?’ I said, and my voice sounded too big for the room. She pushed a piece of paper across the table with a weak smile.

‘He had to get off early. He left this for you.’ She paused. ‘Look, honey...’

I ignored her and snatched the envelope, which had
Bel
on the front in his loopy handwriting. He hardly ever called me that, usually preferring silly nicknames. I swallowed and opened the envelope.

 

Bel

I’m sorry I didn’t see you this morning but there is only one train out of town with it being Boxing Day. I’m so sorry too about what I had to tell you yesterday and about me and Mum fighting. I want you to know that what’s going on between us has nothing to do with you and that we both love you very much. I’m going to try to get down to see you again sometime in January and once I get established in Newcastle, I’m planning to show you all the sights and give you some brilliant visits. You’ll like Sarah once you meet her, really you will.

Keep strong, JB, and remember your old dad isn’t perfect but he loves you always.

Dad XXXX

 

I went back to bed without a word and lay there, staring at the ceiling. I knew now that we were never going to be a proper family again.

C
HAPTER
21

 

Out With the Old

 

By about one p.m. I was thoroughly sick of myself. I had a shower and got dressed. When I went downstairs, Mum was in exactly the same position but now there was a half-empty glass of wine in front of her and she was sitting in a cloud of blue smoke. She made a pathetic attempt to bat away the very obvious evidence of her recent cigarette when I walked into the room.

I rolled my eyes. At least she had the decency to blush.

I made myself some toast and Marmite. I couldn’t face any rows so I was careful to clean the knife in between spreads. I sat down at the table. Mum now had her face in her hands, which were threaded through her hair in a way that stretched her face in a weird way.

She let out a huge sigh and sat back in her seat, looking around the kitchen. ‘God, this place is a dump,’ she said suddenly.

I almost choked on my toast. Was this really Mrs Oh-You’ll-Soon-Love-It-Here speaking? I just gawped at her, my toast held in mid-air.

‘What?’ she said. ‘Don’t you think
I
was sad about leaving London too? Don’t you think I miss
my
friends? Or wish I could have just sold this place and booked a nice holiday for us with the money instead?’

‘I dunno, I —’

She cut across me. ‘Because I was and I do. I loved it here when I used to visit my great aunt as a little girl, but I never wanted to live here. Whether we like it or not though, it’s the way it is. So we might as well get used to it. And I tell you what I’m going to do right now...’

It must have been the wine. Mum was never like this. To my astonishment, she pulled her chair over to the sink, clambered on and then ripped off a great big strip of the nasty green wallpaper.

I had my hands over my mouth, giggles bubbling up inside like gas.

Mum turned round, grinning at me. ‘Well, that feels good,’ she said. ‘Don’t just sit there like a lemon. Why don’t you start over there?’

For the next three hours, we ripped and tugged and pulled down every bit of horrible wallpaper we could find. Mum put the radio on and we sang along to pop songs while we worked, and by the time Mum filled the last bin bag in the house, we were both covered in bits of old plaster and aching in every conceivable bit of our bodies.

We looked at each other and started to laugh. Mum put out her arms and, because it seemed like the easiest thing in the world, I walked into them and put my arms round her. I’d grown since we’d last hugged and we were almost the same height now. I heard a big sniff and squeezed my eyes shut. I didn’t want to cry again. I’d cried so much in the last twenty-four hours that I felt like I had no spare liquid left in my body. Mum let go eventually and wiped her eyes.

‘Right,’ she said briskly, ‘you put those bin bags out the front and I’ll put together some turkey and leftovers from yesterday. We’ll get cleaned up and see what’s on telly.’

I opened the front door, humming a little, and then jumped as I realised someone was coming along the pavement.

It was Abbie, in a sparkly top and soft cardigan that were obviously brand new. She also wore a grim expression.

‘My mum wants you and your mum to come over for a drink,’ she said flatly. ‘And you’ve got something in your hair.’

I pulled the dangling piece of wallpaper away with an embarrassed laugh and then met her eyes, which were like stones. I’d obviously really hurt her feelings by not showing up before.

‘Look, Abbie, about the other night,’ I began ...

‘Mum says to come at seven-thirty,’ she said and turned crisply away.

I hated knowing I’d hurt her feelings and I had no idea how to make it up to her.

When I passed on the invitation, Mum was enthusiastic.

It was only when we were putting on our coats that something hit me.

Mum thought I’d been at Abbie’s the other night, when really I’d been kissing Luka.

Would she say something? Abbie owed me nothing. I had no way of knowing if I could trust her. I just had to hope she wasn’t going to drop me in it.

C
HAPTER
22

 

They’re Everywhere
You Look

 

Abbie’s house was a riot of Christmas music and tinsel. Her mum opened the door with a huge glass of red wine in one hand and a sausage roll in the other. She greeted us like we were long-lost friends.

‘Come in, come in!’ she said as one of her bra straps broke free from the black dress she was wearing and escaped down her bare shoulder. She had the same eyes and face shape as Abbie, but her hair was darker, pulled back messily into a scrunchie.

‘It’s nice to meet you both,’ she said and Mum smiled in a puzzled way. She opened her mouth to point out that I had met her before and then Abbie, miraculously, appeared at the top of the stairs.

‘Come on up,’ she said and, despite the lack of enthusiasm in her voice, I grabbed the invitation like a life raft.

Abbie’s room was like mine with an extreme makeover. Her walls were painted a deep mustard yellow. Lamps cast a warm glow in the corners and she’d hung gauzy scarves from the picture rails behind her bed so it looked a bit like a four-poster. The bed itself was loaded with sparkly, tasselled cushions. I half expected a buff man in a pair of Aladdin trousers to appear and offer me a tray of Turkish Delight.

‘Wow,’ was all I could say.

She regarded me in that cool way she had and slumped back on the bed. She didn’t suggest I sit down too, so I stood there awkwardly for a minute before perching on the end.

‘Great room.’

Silence.

She wasn’t going to help me out here, clearly. There was only one thing I could think to do. I reached into my pocket and found the now slightly rumpled picture of Luka.

I held it up and I could see she was interested because her nose practically twitched, like a fox. She leaned a bit closer, despite herself. ‘Who’s that?’ she said finally.

‘He’s the reason I didn’t turn up before,’ I said, ‘and my mum will kill me if you let on. So right now I’m throwing myself at your mercy.’

I could see humour in her eyes, although her mouth wasn’t ready to play yet.

‘Good luck with that,’ she said.

Smiles crept up both our faces.

‘Give it here then,’ she said, reaching for the photo. She studied it for ages. ‘Cute boy,’ she said.

I felt a rush of pride. ‘Yeah.’ I suddenly wanted to tell her everything, but she would only think I was insane.

From downstairs the sounds of Slade and raucous laughter drifted upwards like smoke.

‘But here’s the thing,’ I said. ‘He’s not here for much longer. He’s going away to ... Newcastle.’ The name popped out before I’d known I was going to say it. It just seemed easier to say he was going away than explain any of the real situation.

‘Can’t you stay in touch? You can always IM him,’ said Abbie and I mentally kicked myself for bringing moving up in the first place.

‘His mum and dad are, er, a bit strict so he isn’t allowed a computer,’ I said finally.

‘That’s sucky,’ she said in a kinder voice and I met her eyes, grateful.

‘Yeah, it really is. Look, I’m sorry I didn’t come the other evening.’

‘It’s no big deal, really,’ she said.

I curled my legs up under me and got comfy on the cushions. ‘Come on then,’ I said, feeling myself relax. ‘Give me the lowdown on The Place With The Lurid Purple Uniform ...’

So she did. She told me about avoiding certain toilets because of the ‘witches’ from Year Eleven who hung out there, and about the psycho PE teacher who took netball. She also told me about the great drama group she was in after school. She told me about growing up in Slumpton and how she couldn’t wait to leave, but also about the beach parties she and her friends had last summer, when they made bonfires. Once, the sound of the sea lulled them to sleep so they all missed their curfews.

For the next hour or so we chatted and I did a pretty good impersonation of being a normal girl, and then her mum called us downstairs for food. We reluctantly got up from the bed.

Laughing and chatting, we went into the noisy living room that seemed to have drunken adults sitting in every corner. I spotted Mrs Longmeadow taking up most of a sofa and then noticed Mum sitting on another in close conversation with Will. She caught my eye when I came in and didn’t even look embarrassed.

Me and Abbie got some food and carried on chatting, draped over the big floor cushions. I tried to avoid looking at Mum. What I’d been told about Dad, and now her and Will... well, it just wasn’t something I wanted to think about.

It was when I was helping myself to seconds of Abbie’s mum’s delicious trifle that I caught a snatch of conversation from Mrs L.

‘I just don’t know why there has to be so many of them,’ she was saying. ‘They’re everywhere you look. I even saw two girls no older than your Abigail begging outside Morrison’s the other day. Looked like gypsies. I think they should send the lot of them back where they belong.’

A couple of the other adults were nodding and murmuring agreement. Mum was staring at her drink. I know that anywhere else she would have piled in and challenged Mrs Longmeadow. I saw Will making a face and getting to his feet.

‘We’ve spoken about this before. I think it’s about time I got you home, Mum,’ he said, but Mrs L wasn’t for budging.

She looked at him, frowning. ‘What, don’t you think most people round here feel that way?’ she said.

‘I don’t feel that way,’ said Will in a stern, quiet voice and there were a couple of ‘No, me neither’s’ including one from Mum, but most people didn’t say anything at all. Abbie’s mum, obviously flustered by the change in atmosphere in the room, jumped up.

‘Come on, everyone,’ she said in a jolly voice. ‘Must be time to top up drinkies.’

Later in bed, I thought about what Luka had said before. If something bad happened to his mum, how many people felt like Mrs Longmeadow about foreigners and turned a blind eye? I pictured the clothing factory and the way that girl was so frightened of the man who looked like her boss.

I’d seen him with that businessman Lex McAllistair outside the marina. Eva had worked in the fairground, which was being pulled down
because
of the marina. Eva knew something that someone had wanted kept quiet. I rolled over, wide awake now. It felt like there was some connection there, if only I could see it. Somehow, the marina seemed at the centre of it all.

If I could just find out something really useful ... well, maybe Luka would understand that he’d been right to ask for my help. Maybe he would know that he wasn’t really alone.

I decided I was going to have to find a way to get inside the marina and have a look about.

Mum was a bit fragile the next morning and was still in bed at ten when I got up.

I took her some juice in bed to butter her up and then casually dropped in that I was going out as I was leaving the room.

‘Wait up. I’ll have a quick shower and come with you,’ she said. ‘It’ll clear my head. I knew I shouldn’t have drunk all that wine.’ She winced.

Panic flared inside me. ‘No!’ I said. ‘I mean, if it’s OK, I’d like to have some time alone. You know, to think about everything. About you and Dad splitting up.’ I felt a bit guilty but I reckoned, if I was going to be the child of a broken home, I’d earned the right to use it to my advantage.

Mum sank back into her pillows. ‘Of course, love. I understand. Just, you know, wrap up warmly.’

I got to the door and she spoke again. ‘Bel?’

I turned round.

‘It’ll all be okay, you’ll see.’

It had rained heavily the night before and everything felt like it had been freshly washed. As I got near the seafront, an image flashed into my mind of Abbie’s beach parties. They did sound kind of fun. For a moment, I pictured me and Luka huddled together with a blanket round our shoulders, sharing a bag of hot chips and laughing and kissing, the waves lapping the shore and our skin smelling of salt and sunshine. We’d be like normal people. With a future.

A great wave of sadness punched me somewhere near the kidneys. We would never be a normal couple. How could we?

The closer I got to the marina, the more I talked myself out of this stupid plan.

It was madness. I had no way of getting in and I didn’t even know what I was looking for. I decided to just go and have a look from the outside, just in case I came up with a bright idea.

When I got there, I noticed two things.

One, the gates were open wide because a lorry was at the entrance ready to deliver something.

And two, the security guard was having a conversation with the lorry driver and not paying attention.

Before my brain could talk them out of it, my legs had taken me inside the gates.