Looking for JJ (11 page)

“Stevie and Joe boss her a bit,” Michelle continued. “My mum says that they get away with murder. Stevie’s never had a job and Joe should really be at a special school.”

Lucy’s brothers did look odd. Stevie, the older one, was nineteen but small, like Lucy, with thin hair and sunken cheeks. Joe was only fourteen but was as big as a man, heavier and broader than his older brother. They were always together and wore army trousers and jackets as if they belonged to the cadets. Only they weren’t members of any group, her mum had told her, they just dressed up to please themselves. Her mum had been inside Lucy’s house chatting to Mrs Bussell and she had shown her their room which was full of military knick-knacks.
They’ve even got replica guns
, her mum said,
hanging on the walls, and helmets and boots and tents.

Jennifer didn’t like them at all. When she walked past them they used their fingers like pretend binoculars and followed her steps as if she was some kind of enemy. Jennifer felt sorry for Lucy having to live with them.

“Lucy’s so tiny. She reminds me of a sad little mouse.”

Michelle opened her mouth to speak but appeared to be struck dumb by this image.

“She’s all right,” she said finally. “No one’ll ever bully her with brothers like that!”

After school they walked arm in arm through the village, sheltering for a while under the shop awnings when it started raining. Sidestepping the dark glassy puddles they walked up to Water Lane.

A man was coming out of Jennifer’s gate. He had a sports jacket on and the hood was up. He was carrying a big bag over his shoulder.

“Oh look,” said Michelle, “I wonder if that’s a photographer.”

The man opened a car door and struggled to put the bag in then he stood back and pushed his hood off his head. It was Perry. Jennifer’s hand immediately rose to wave but he didn’t seem to register her presence and quickly got into the car and slammed the door.

“Maybe he’s just taken some pictures of your mum,” Michelle said.

“I’ll have to go in,” Jennifer said.

“Can I come?”

“Later, when I’ve done my homework. I’ll come and call for you.”

The house was quiet and dark. She switched the hall light on even though it was only three-thirty in the afternoon. Her mum wasn’t in the kitchen or the lounge. Jennifer ran upstairs. She was in her bedroom and the door was tightly shut.

“Mum,” she called. “Did Perry come?”

“I’ve got a migraine, Jen.”

“Can I come in?” she said, turning the handle.

“I’m better on my own,” her mum said, her voice scratchy. As if she’d been crying.

She went back downstairs. The place was so quiet. As if no one had spoken in it for weeks. She went into the living room and sat down. The small television was still there. Perry hadn’t taken it back. The mantelpiece was empty though. Perry had rescued Luke Skywalker and taken him back to all the other Star Wars toys.

Jennifer felt glad. That’s where he belonged.

 

 

 

Berwick Waters. Jennifer had expected it to be mysterious. In her mind she imagined a thick, dark forest edging on to a flat glassy lake; a place of intrigue and possible danger.

A school trip was planned. Miss Potts and a couple of the other teachers were taking their classes up to the reservoir for the day. The children would do a six-kilometre hike around the lake. They had to bring a picnic lunch and wear sensible shoes. Even though Michelle didn’t seem particularly excited by the prospect Jennifer was looking forward to it.

She woke up early. Unusually, her mum was already up. The bathroom door was closed and she could hear the sound of the shower running. She went downstairs to have breakfast and then make up her packed lunch. After a while her mum came into the kitchen. She was all dressed up.

“You going out?”

“Yep. That photographer who rang yesterday? I’m going to his studio.”

“Is it for a magazine?” Jennifer said.

“Could be.”

Jennifer hoped so. Her mum had been moody over the last week or so, keeping to her room, getting up late, lying on the carpet in the living room watching the tiny television. She hadn’t felt like cooking, nor going to the launderette, nor getting any shopping. A couple of times she’d even suggested that Jennifer take the day off school so that they could get the bus into Norwich and do some window-shopping. In the past Jennifer would have jumped at the chance. A day out for her and her mum; there would have been nothing better. But this time it was different. She liked school. She had her place next to Michelle and they often did their work together. At lunchtime they sat in the soft chairs in the hall, or if it wasn’t too cold on the bench by the playing field. They swapped books and magazines and shared their lunches. They were best friends. Michelle had even given Jennifer a spare key fob that she had with a tiny skateboard and fluffy heart attached to it. Just so that they could be the same. Sometimes, when the head teacher was out, Mrs Livingstone let the girls go into the stationery cupboard and tidy up the packs of exercise books and boxes of pens and felt tips. On the way home they usually let Lucy walk with them. The younger girl listened with awe to all their gossip and chatter and it was as if they were reliving their day again by telling it all to her.

Jennifer didn’t want to take the day off school.

The day before the trip to Berwick Waters her mum asked her again.

“Just this once. Just to keep me company?” she’d said with an exaggerated pout.

Luckily, Michelle called for Jennifer just at that moment.

“We could go on Saturday,” she’d said, rushing to answer the front door. “Or Sunday?”

But her mum had forgotten about the offer and shuffled off into the kitchen. That afternoon she’d come home from school and found her lying across her bed still in her dressing gown.

How different she looked a day later in her long tan coat and black trousers. Her hair had been curled and looked lighter than usual. She had pale lipstick on for a change and hardly any eye make-up.

“Fingers crossed. Maybe this will be my lucky day,” her mum said.

They’d lived in the house for more than six weeks and there had been no modelling work. They didn’t seem to be short of money, but Jennifer knew, from past experience, that if her mum wasn’t working at
something
the money would dry up.

“I might be a touch late,” she said. “You’ll be all right though, won’t you?”

It wasn’t really a question so Jennifer didn’t bother to answer. She stretched the clingfilm out so that it covered her sandwich and put it into a tiny plastic box. She knew how to look after herself.

Arriving at the reservoir Jennifer felt a twinge of disappointment. It was just a woodland park set around a giant man-made lake. There were paths everywhere and signs with arrows pointing the way. There was nothing wild about it at all.

Miss Potts had told the three classes, the other teachers and an assortment of mums, to assemble in the main picnic area. Standing on one of the tables above them all she gave a short talk. Fifteen years before the Water Board had dug out the lake and filled it in order to service the nearby towns with water. Because of what happened in Berwick, she said, people for miles around had ample drinking water. She stopped and looked round expectantly but no hands shot up with questions. That was it. It had no dramatic history. Once it had been a farmer’s fields. Now it had a sculpted lake and woodland.

Jennifer’s mood dipped. The teachers stood with their arms crossed and the mums were huddled together looking up at the sky.

It was a dull day, the sky crammed full with cloud. A strong wind splattered them with raindrops from time to time. The daffodils that fringed the paths were almost bent double and the trees waved their branches agitatedly. The surface of the lake was rippled and looked like the colour of dishwater.

It was too early in the year for the snack bar to be open but several of the kids used the toilets and the rest sat on the wooden benches and waited. After a few minutes Miss Potts handed out armbands: red, blue, yellow and green. Different teams had to make their way round the lake collecting information about the wildlife, which they would fill into a small booklet that had been prepared by the water company.

“Keep your adult leaders in sight,” she said. “And no one should go off the main paths, especially not by themselves. And the most important thing of all is that no one is allowed to go anywhere near the lake.”

Just as their groups were about to leave Jennifer looked over to Lucy’s class and saw that she was wearing a red armband.

“Lucy’s in the same team as us,” she said, nudging Michelle. “Maybe we should ask her to walk round with us? In a threesome?”

“Nope. Mouse can find her own friends!” Michelle said, striding off, following the leaders of their team.

Jennifer frowned and quickened her step to keep up. Michelle had taken to calling Lucy
Mouse
behind her back. It made her feel uncomfortable and she wished she’d never said it in the first place. She’d wanted to tell Michelle to stop it a number of times but hadn’t quite managed to say the words. She opened her mouth to call after her but Michelle had sprinted ahead and was talking to one of the teachers, her ginger hair bobbing animatedly. Looking round she saw some of the younger kids with their red armbands, one or two holding clipboards, the others with their booklets in plastic covers. Following behind them, walking by herself, was Lucy. Jennifer felt a niggle of guilt. Before she had moved to Water Lane Lucy had been friends with Michelle. Nowadays the girl seemed to be on her own a lot, or hanging round with one of her mad-looking brothers. She seemed tired and the booklet was flapping in her hand. It didn’t even look as though she had a pen or a bag. Michelle seemed quite happy up front so Jennifer hung back and waited until Lucy caught up with her.

“You all right?” she said.

Lucy nodded. She was wearing her giant anorak again and her hair had a zig-zag parting and was hanging limply down each side of her face.

“Where’s your packed lunch?”

Lucy put her hand into one of her pockets and pulled out a tinfoil square.

“My mum made a sandwich,” she said.

“Here, do you want a pen. To fill that in?” Jennifer said, pointing to the booklet.

“Got one!” Lucy said and produced a biro from her other pocket.

They walked on, some way behind the others. To the rear, the next team were starting their walk. Jennifer had an odd feeling. As though she was in a kind of No Man’s Land. Lucy didn’t seem to notice and was chatty, her squeaky voice rising and falling.

“My mum’s got to have an operation. She’s got a sore heart. Stevie says she has to wait for months and months. That’s not fair, is it?”

Jennifer shook her head. Her mum had told her that Mrs Bussell was waiting for heart surgery. She felt sorry for her, the woman had a lot on her mind. Her husband had left her and there was some talk of Mrs Bussell not being able to cope. Michelle’s mum had no sympathy. It was Mrs Bussell’s own fault, she said. The woman smoked thirty cigarettes a day.

“Look, a cat,” Lucy suddenly said, pointing into the bushes.

Jennifer swung round to look but couldn’t see anything. One of the teachers from the group behind was catching up with them. She linked Lucy’s arm and pulled her on.

“Did you see it?” Lucy said.

“No, come on. We’ll get left behind.”

“My mum said that years ago, before I was born, they all got drowned. There used to be just fields here and they filled it up with water without telling anyone.” Lucy’s voice was picking up speed. “The cats didn’t know. Nobody knew. One day it was a field and the next day it was a lake. My mum said she saw cat bodies floating about on the top of the water. She fished one out. It was stiff, she said, and its fur was all mangy.”

Jennifer didn’t answer. She pictured Mrs Bussell, in her sporty clothes, tiptoeing through the mud and reeds, pulling a dead cat out of the lake.

“They don’t like people. They avoid us, Stevie said, and if I was to go near one it would attack me.”

“No. . .”

“It’s a secret. Only people in the army know what they’re really like. Stevie told me.”

Jennifer hadn’t heard this bit of the story. She thought of Joe, the younger brother. He was only fourteen, Mrs Livingstone had said, but he looked big enough to do a man’s job.

“Have you ever seen a cat attack someone?” Jennifer demanded.

“No, but Stevie has. Him and Joe come up here at night to hunt them but I’m not supposed to tell. They bring their guns. They’ve got a den.”

“Guns?” Jennifer said, exasperated.

“Stevie says they have to try and get rid of the cats.”

“Cats what?” Miss Potts said, a few metres behind them, her voice booming out.

“About the drowned cats, Miss,” Lucy said.

Miss Potts tutted. Her head moved from side to side as though she was trying to see something. She picked up a whistle that was hanging on a string around her neck and put it up to her lips as if she was going to blow it. Some boys who were running rather close to the lake saw her movement and scooted away. She let the whistle drop.

“They lived here, when there was no lake. Then, when the water came they all drowned.”

“Lucy, dear, that story’s just a myth.”

“So there are no wild cats?” Jennifer said.

“There are
feral
cats. Not domesticated. They mostly live round the picnic areas.”

“And no cats were drowned?”

“Possibly. I’m sure there was some wildlife that suffered when the reservoir first filled up. . . Honestly, look at that stupid boy!”

Miss Potts went striding off in the direction of a boy who was halfway up a tree. Several others were standing round the trunk holding branches and trying to knock him off. The sound of a whistle pierced the air and from a dozen spots around the lake small groups of children appeared and looked in the direction of the sound. Further up, with a finger of the murky water of the lake in between them, was Michelle. She made an impatient signal for Jennifer to come and join her.

“We’d better hurry up, or we’ll get left behind,” she said, hooking Lucy’s arm and quickening her step. “We’ve got to get to the top end of the lake for our lunch. And we’ve got to fill in this book.”

As they walked on Jennifer had a sly look around to see if there were
any
cats. None. She did a drawing of a wild flower and helped Lucy to do hers. She described the weather and ticked some boxes on a wildlife quiz. She pulled Lucy by the hand up a steep incline, all the time trying to hurry her steps up so that they could catch up with Michelle. She huffed and puffed as she got to the top, feeling Lucy’s weight like a sack of potatoes. Standing at a height she looked around and saw some of the other kids walking in little groups. Catching her breath she stood for a moment and peered into the trees and scanned the edge of the lake below. There were no cats that she could see.
None
.

The red armbands were all sitting at the picnic area at the top of the lake. Michelle was with a girl called Sonia, who they weren’t usually friends with. Jennifer frowned and walked over, Lucy following her. The girls had unpacked their lunches on to the wooden table and filled up the remaining benches with their bags. There was hardly enough room for Jennifer to sit, let alone Lucy.