In the Bag (28 page)

‘Rabbit,’ Ash shouts over, ‘you should go. This had nothing to do with you.’

There’s a long pause before Rabbit says, ‘No way. I’m staying till the ambulance gets here.’

And then no one says anything for ages. I close my eyes and try not to think about the pain, about the state of my foot. Nothing happens till I hear a siren out on the main road. It sounds like it’s heading in this direction. I think about sitting up to watch for it. Except when I try to sit up, I physically can’t do it. So I just lie down propped up on my elbow and wait. And in about twenty seconds, the siren gets really close. It sounds like it must be on the industrial estate by now. I open my eyes, look across at Ash. He’s slowly stepping backwards, towards us, keeping the gun trained on the two guys. As he gets over to us, he holds the gun out for Rabbit.

‘I have to go,’ he says. ‘I have to find my mum.’

‘What?’ Rabbit says. He sounds angry. He doesn’t take the gun.

‘I have to.’

‘What about us?’ Rabbit says. ‘You can’t leave us to explain this!’

I think of things that I want to say to Ash, but I can’t open my mouth to say them.

‘Blame it all on me. Tell the police it was all my fault,’ Ash says. ‘Say you didn’t know anything about it.’

Flashing blue light starts to bounce off the walls and pavements of the industrial estate. The sirens are almost deafening now.

Ash drops the gun and runs past the two guys and the car and away towards the wire-mesh fence at the end of the industrial estate. I watch as he climbs over the fence and falls into the field on the other side. He gets up and starts running again.

Seconds later I hear the roar of an engine and then the screech of tyres. I hear a car door open and footsteps on the forecourt. Over in the field, I watch Ash’s back disappear into the darkness. I lie back down, take a deep breath and close my eyes.

My Inspiration for In the Bag

The idea for
In the Bag
came to me as I was walking home one day and a police car screeched to a halt on some wasteground nearby. I turned to see the police chasing a man. The guy on the run had a holdall, which he threw away as he was chased. The police ignored the bag and continued chasing him. And I started to wonder whether the police had even noticed the bag and what would happen to it. What if someone found it? What would be inside? And if, as I assumed, it was money, would whoever found the bag keep it or hand it over to the police? I wondered whether anybody would be able to keep a secret that big, or whether it would slowly eat away at them.

The idea of stumbling across something so life changing has always appealed to me. In fact, many of my favourite books and films are based on that very idea –
Millions
,
Fargo
,
Shallow Grave
and
A Simple Plan
, to name but a few. I couldn’t resist writing my own story about a bag of money and the dangers that are associated with it.

I hope you enjoy reading it.

Jim Carrington

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Also by Jim Carrington

Inside My Head

Praise for Inside My Head by Jim Carrington
:

‘I loved it and you should go read it’

Bloggers Heart Books

‘A thought-provoking read’

Bliss

‘Witty and hard-hitting dialogue and a compellingly

written storyline’

Irish Post

‘Claustrophobic and unbearably tense, it’s extremely compelling and gives a good deal of pause for thought’

The Bookbag

‘One of the most thought-provoking and compelling books I have read for a long time . . . This book is utterly believable . . . and it is so perfectly written that you actually feel the sting of every taunt. There should be a copy of this book in every secondary school library’

Book Zone 4 Boys

‘A thought-provoking novel . . . Well written and worth

a read’

Chicklish

‘A very, very pacy and unputdownable contemporary novel . . . Very much in the style of Melvin Burgess and Kevin Brooks, this is a powerful debut novel’

Love Reading 4 Kids

‘Easy to relate to and impossible to put down’

Armadillo

Read on for a taster of Inside My Head

also by Jim Carrington . . .

PAUL KNAGGS looks forward to school.

Because at school he can rip Gary Wood to shreds.

And GARY just takes it – usually.

DAVID is Knaggs’s friend.

He does what Knaggs says – usually.

ZOË has moved from London to the middle of nowhere.

As far as she’s concerned, life is over.

And then she meets the school loner, Gary.

GARY – KNAGGS – DAVID – ZOË.

When their stories collide, things get messy.

David

I’m already on question four as the bell goes.

‘Hand in your books when you’ve finished,’ Mr H calls over the noise. ‘Then you can leave.’

Mills and me hand our books in and walk out of the lab, to the cloakroom.

About thirty seconds later, Knaggs joins us. ‘D’you see Wood?’ he says. ‘I thought he was gonna start blubbing!’

I nod my head. ‘Yeah, I know,’ I say. ‘He looked like he was gonna explode.’

‘Leave it now, though,’ Mills says. ‘You know what he’s like.’

I nod.

Knaggs shrugs. ‘He won’t do anything. He’s a pussy!’

No one answers him. I avoid Knaggs’s eyes.

We all set about looking for our blazers and bags on the floor of the cloakroom. I find my blazer, brush the dust off it and start looking for my bag.

Then there’s a noise.
SMACK!
Loud and shocking.

The whole place goes silent and we all turn to look. Knaggs is lying on the floor of the cloakroom, holding the side of his face. His mouth is open. He looks stunned. For a second, I’m confused. But then my brain starts to fill in the missing parts and I look around for Wood. But he’s not there. The door out of the cloakroom swings shut.

We all crowd round Knaggs.

Mr Moore comes and gets me out of literacy, next lesson. He doesn’t say what it’s about. He just walks me through the empty corridors in silence. But it’s obvious what he wants me for.

When we get to his office, I expect to see Knaggs sitting there. But he isn’t. Neither’s Wood.

‘Take a seat, David,’ Mr Moore says. He points at a comfy green chair.

I sit down in it and sink back. But I feel awkward, so I sit up straight instead. My hands are sweaty. My heart’s pounding.

Mr Moore starts off, going on about how I’m a responsible boy and that he trusts me to tell the truth and all that stuff. I just sit there feeling weird. See, I know what he’s gonna ask me to do. He wants me to point the finger. He wants me to grass someone up. Knaggs or Wood. It’s what teachers always want – some mug like me to make their job easier. I have a decision to make, I know. I can tell him the truth and keep the teachers’ rules. But the thing is, then I’d be breaking the kid rules. I’d be breaking the biggest kid rule of all: grassing up my best mate. Or I can lie. It’s the kind of choice where I have no choice.

‘Tell me what happened in the science lab, David,’ Mr Moore says.

I sit and think for a moment. The truth’s easy. I know exactly what happened. We were messing about all lesson, like normal, and Knaggs started taking the mick out of Wood. The rest of us just encouraged him to do it. But Knaggs pushed it too far. Anyone could see how angry Wood was getting – he was about to explode. And then Wood went mental. But I can’t say any of that, not the stuff that actually happened. Knaggs would get into trouble. I’m gonna have to lie, bend the truth a little. Otherwise my life won’t be worth living. I shift uncomfortably in my seat. I’ve got a nervous guilty feeling in my stomach and I haven’t even started lying yet.

‘Was there an argument, David?’ Mr Moore says. ‘Tell me what you remember . . .’

I look up at him. He’s looking straight at me, almost smiling but not quite. I take a deep breath. ‘It started when Gary came into science late, sir,’ I say. No lies yet but my heart’s still beating like crazy. ‘Gary and Knaggs – I mean, Paul Knaggs – well, they were having a laugh, taking the mickey out of each other, just winding each other up.’ My voice is shaking slightly. It doesn’t sound like me talking.

Mr Moore picks a notebook up off his desk and then a pen. He writes something down. And then he stops and looks up at me again. He smiles. ‘It was both of them, you say?’

I nod.

Mr Moore makes more notes. Then he looks up at me. ‘OK. How were they winding each other up, David?’

I look down at my feet. ‘Don’t know. Just the usual, really. They always do it. Just calling each other names and that. It was nothing serious, sir. It was just a bit of give and take.’

I look up. Mr Moore’s writing more things in his notebook and nodding his head. Over his shoulder I can see a signed cricket bat and an old photo of the school team. I stare at them. God, I wish I was outside playing cricket instead of sitting here.

‘Go on,’ Mr Moore says.

I look back at him with a start. I must look guilty as hell. So I look at my shoes again. See, I’m a rubbish liar. People can see it in my eyes straight away. I can’t hide it. ‘Well, then we all got on with our work. Tried to get it all finished before the end of the lesson. Except Gary. He just sort of sat there and stared at the desk. He looked angry. And then he tried to start it all up again,’ I say. And I hate myself for saying it. I think of Wood sitting there in the lab, with that angry face, taking it all. I should be telling Mr Moore about that. But I can’t. I can’t grass on Knaggs. That’s the rules. The kid rules. He’s my mate. I have to stick up for him. ‘Gary kept trying to start it all off again, calling Paul short and that. And so Paul took the mickey back a bit. And that’s when Gary started to look
really
angry, like he couldn’t handle it any more.’

Mr Moore raises his eyebrows. ‘I see,’ he says. ‘Can you remember exactly what was said?’

I stare back at him. The ‘sort of’ smile has gone from his face. He looks serious now. I feel like he’s about to rumble me. I shake my head. ‘Not exactly, sir,’ I say. I look up at the cricket bat again, to avoid looking in his eyes. ‘Gary was taking the mickey out of Paul for being short. And Paul was taking the mickey back, saying Gary’s head looks like a cheese puff. And then Gary just got really angry. He said he was gonna kill Paul – that sort of stuff.’

Mr Moore raises his eyebrows again and notes something else down in his book. He underlines it three times, then looks back at me. ‘You’re sure that’s what he said, David . . . ?’

I nod. ‘Yeah.’ My heart’s thumping so hard I can hear it in my ears. I feel sick. I want to be out of this room.

‘Absolutely sure . . . ?’

I take a breath. ‘Yes.’

‘Thank you, David,’ Mr Moore says. And then he shows me to the door.