Alarm Girl (2 page)

Then Robin did something weird. He stepped forward and held out his hand for the boy to shake. Since when did Robin shake hands with people? One minute he was getting into trouble with Nan for finishing off the biscuits and the next he was shaking hands like a businessman. Everything felt like a big trick, and I suddenly thought that the aeroplane and the airport and even the bushpig could be fake and we were in a TV programme that Dad had arranged. There could be ginormous heaters hidden behind the hills we saw, keeping the air hot. Maybe Dad wasn’t Dad at all, but an actor with a false face. Maybe you weren’t really dead and you would come out of the house in a minute, laughing and crying at the same time.

IT WAS DISCONCERTING
having Ian’s face filling the computer screen in the corner of the room when he was miles away. Doug stood in the kitchen doorway, drying his hands with a tea towel. He wasn’t certain if being able to see Ian meant that Ian could see him, but
he noticed Valerie remove her apron and quickly hide it behind the sofa cushions so perhaps that meant that he could. Not so long ago video-phones had been the stuff of science fiction films, yet now they were a reality. A reality in their own living room, what was more. A few years ago they wouldn’t have thought it possible. But then, Doug thought, there were a lot of things they wouldn’t have thought possible a few years ago.

He wished they had been able to see and speak to Karen when she and Ian had been travelling. It would have made a difference. When she’d got home there had been a distance between them that perhaps wouldn’t have been there if she had been able to Skype them from India and Kenya and all the other places she had been. It was no use thinking like that, though, he told himself. That was before they’d had a computer, before anyone had thought of communicating in that way. In those days you were grateful if you got a postcard. They had kept her letters and photographs. When he was alone in the house, which wasn’t that often now the kids were living with them, he went up into the attic to look through them. It was a bit like having a conversation with her. Valerie had scolded him the last time she came back from the shops and found the loft hatch open, asking what he thought would happen if he had a fall without her there to hold the ladder. ‘What were you doing up there, anyhow?’ she’d asked. He’d told her he thought he heard mice.

The doorbell rang.

‘It’s Beth,’ Indigo told her dad, and she got up to answer the front door, nudging her brother with her foot on her way out of the room. Robin took her place at the computer, like the Changing of the Guard.

‘Alright, Robbo?’ Ian said.

‘Alright, Dad.’

Indy came back into the room with her friend from next door.

‘Is that another new pair of trainers, Bethany?’ Val asked, forcing the poor girl to give an account of herself. She was too hard on her, Doug thought, but Val’s comeback whenever he told her so was that there were plenty of ways to enjoy yourself that didn’t cost the earth and to spare a thought for Beth’s father working long hours to keep her in the latest fashions.

Beth had brought crisps and Coke to share while they watched television. Doug hoped they wouldn’t want to use the phone to vote. When Robin finished speaking with Ian they all waved goodbye and the computer burped quietly as it swallowed his image – and the South African evening with it.

As usual, Robin came away from his conversation in a bad mood, complaining when he wasn’t allowed to watch a film on the other channel. He declared the talent show participants ‘a bunch of freaks’ and accused his sister and her friend of being the same. There was always a change of atmosphere after Ian called. An argument erupted during which fizzy drink and crisps spilled all over the carpet.

‘Fetch a cloth, Robbie,’ Doug said.

Robin slammed the door as he left the room, making the walls of the house shake.

It grew late. Outside, a frost tightened the lawn. Votes were counted and television talent show winners announced.

‘Isn’t it about time you went home, Bethany?’ Valerie said.

‘Mum says she doesn’t mind,’ Beth answered without turning around.

Valerie gave Doug a look.

‘Is she asleep?’ he asked, nodding in Indigo’s direction. Her head was cocked at an awkward angle over the arm of the chair, her hair falling in front of her eyes. She had done the same the previous weekend: dropped off to sleep while they were all watching television. They hadn’t been able to wake her, no matter how hard they tried, no matter how loud they said her name and told her the house was on fire.

‘Let’s put stuff on her,’ Robin said. He balanced the remote control on his sister’s shoulder and Beth rested a cushion on top of her head. They put an orange from the fruit bowl into one of her hands, a banana in her lap.

‘That’s enough now,’ Valerie said.

Doug removed the items and scooped his sleeping grandchild into his arms. His chest tightened painfully as he lifted her out of the armchair.

‘Robin, mind out of Grandad’s way,’ Valerie said, ‘or you’ll have him break his neck.’

‘She’ll want this,’ Robin said, holding up a silk scarf that Indigo always kept with her. Doug had no spare hand with which to take it so Robin tucked it under his sister’s chin.

‘Ah,’ Beth said, ‘pretend you’re so hard, Robin Taylor, but you’re a softie really.’

DAD’S BUNCH OF KEYS
was as big as the school caretaker’s. Nobody move, he said, when he opened the front door. Like the police. He told us to stay where we were while he turned off the alarm. I was fiddling with my scarf and Robin whispered at me not to be a retard. After Dad pressed loads of buttons we were allowed to go in.

It was dark and cool and smelled of polish. A vase of golden twigs stood on a chest made of wood that had all carvings on it and there was a big painting that was just colours but had people carrying spears if you looked at it more carefully. The front door opened straight into a big sitting room, with a shiny kitchen in the corner – no stairs or hallway or carpet. A Christmas tree had loads of presents underneath. It didn’t feel like Christmas though because it was hot and sunny outside. Some big wide steps went down to two sofas opposite each other and a low table in the middle with a laptop on it and books and magazines, like at the dentist’s. Dad went over and yanked a string that opened the curtains with a loud
noise. The room filled with light. I recognised it from when we Skype except it looked different now we were standing in it. The whole back wall was a window. There was a big telescope in front of it and outside there was nothing apart from countryside. It didn’t look like Africa because it was green not desert. It looked the same as England apart from the mountains. Robin looked through the telescope and said it was awesome.

I felt a bit dizzy. I really wanted a drink but it would be bad manners to ask for one. I held my scarf up to my face. It smelled of Nan’s. Dad asked if I was alright but my throat swelled up fat enough to choke so I couldn’t say anything and Dad gave me a weird look. He started showing us around and you could tell he was trying to make everything friendly. A news programme came on the massive TV screen on the wall above the fireplace. Dad pressed another button and random music filled the room. He called the kitchen bit the cooking station. The ‘cooking station’ was about four times the size of Nan’s kitchen. He said we would have a chef and, if there was anything we fancied, just shout. I wanted to scream out loud for a drink but Robin started going on about how rich Dad was. Dad laughed and pretended to be embarrassed but you could tell he was pleased. He said we could either sleep in a round house where his clients normally stay or we could sleep in the main house with him if we preferred. Robin said he wanted to stay in the main house and I did too. It’s not like we’re his clients.

Our bedrooms were next door to each other but not upstairs. There were no stairs. There was an animal skull with horns on it hanging on the wall. Dad said to Robin How about you have this room and Indy can go in here? The bed had a long white net hanging around it, like a princess’s bed. There were bars on the window, like in a prison. Dad said there wasn’t such a good view from this part of the house. We could see the boy called Zami walking away from where he had parked Dad’s car. It was next to an open-top Jeep under a shelter that had a roof but no walls, and the roof was a bit of metal held up by four knobbly posts that looked like they had been cut from trees. There were some chickens pecking the ground and some more lying under a shed and there was a kennel with a massive dog inside, about twenty times the size of Minnie and not too friendly, Dad said. It was tied to a long chain. No wonder it wasn’t friendly. We carried on watching out of the window and Tonyhog trotted past with his tail pointing right up into the air in a straight line. Dad laughed and said Tony, on the other hand, is very keen to be friends. Ugly as hell, but he’s good fun, you’ll like him. We watched as Zami poured water out of a dirty plastic container and made a puddle that was for Tony to drink. Tonyhog knelt down with just his front legs bent underneath him. I was so thirsty I wanted to kneel down next to him. He wasn’t ugly. He looked really sweet with his front legs tucked underneath the way humans fold their arms. I asked what the dog’s name was but Dad said it liked to be left
alone. He said there were a few house rules to go over – Stuff you need to know to keep you safe, he said – but we would talk about that after we unpacked.

On my pillow there was a thing that looked like a bit like a phone. It wasn’t a phone, it was a personal alarm. Dad said Robin had one too so he went and got it. Mine was called Alarm Girl and it was silver and pink. Robin’s was blue. They had inbuilt torches and a clip to fix them to your belt or you could wear them on a string around your neck like the glow sticks we got from the circus. If you take the pin out there’s a horrible noise. Robin was making jokes, pretending to pull out the pin then throw it like a hand grenade. He kept shouting Cover! and diving under my bed and making Dad laugh. I wanted to hear what the alarm sounded like but Dad went all serious and said Not now, Indy, it’s not a toy, it’s for if you’re in danger, but I kept asking and then he let me. I pulled out the pin like in the instructions and a girl started screaming. When I put the pin back in, she stopped. Robin tried his but it was a siren instead of a girl screaming. I wanted the siren one but Dad said I had to have the girl. Robin said more people come to your rescue if there’s a girl or a woman screaming. Maybe that made him think Dad loves me more than him because he made me keep the screaming girl.

Dad’s got a gun that gives an electric shock but he wouldn’t let us see it even though Robin really wanted to. He got it because he was mugged and his wallet and everything was stolen so after that he got a stun gun. He
could have got a real gun but he only wanted a stun one. Robin asked if Dad’s mugger was a black man and Dad said yes this man was black but when he was burgled in England that robber was a white person. Dad said there’s always a reason why people behave the way they do but there’s no reason why Robin loved the idea of that stun gun so much, he just did.

Our rooms had ceiling fans like old-fashioned aeroplane propellers that moved slowly when you switched them on then they got faster and faster. The curtains around my bed blew and billowed. Dad asked if we were hungry. Starving, Robin said – like he always says if anyone asks – and I said I was thirsty. Dad said he would make pancakes and get me a drink.

I spread my scarf out over the little table next to the bed, smoothing its lovely silk and tracing the pattern of the golden letters. P.A.R.I.S. I said to Dad Do you remember this scarf? It was in the dressing-up box when we were little. He didn’t remember it. I told him it was yours and he sat on my bed next to me and asked me what I thought of South Africa so far. It’s a big country, he said, and sometimes it can feel overwhelming. The landscape and the heat, he said, sometimes it can feel too much – even I feel it. I didn’t say anything. I knew he wasn’t talking about Africa. I just wanted him to get my drink. We looked at my wind-up torch that doesn’t need batteries. Dad said it never gets dark because of the security lights. We would need a torch if we went out at night, because it’s pitch-black twenty metres away from
the house with ridges we could fall down, but inside the grounds it’s light the whole time. Robin said I would be pleased about that because I was scared of the dark. He said I was scared of everything – creepy-crawlies, lions, everything – and he told Dad I have to have the hall light on at home and I have to have my scarf wherever I go, like a baby with its blanket. When I shouted Fuck off at him Dad was nice and made him go out of my room. He went out too, so he could make pancakes and so I could have a bit of time to myself, he said.

My suitcase zip made a loud noise. Nan had folded all my clothes in neat squares. Tops in one pile and bottoms separate. Socks and knickers in the special bags she got from her catalogue. Everything was cold, like it had been in the fridge. My new sandals were all squashed. They still smelled of the shop and I had to peel the stickers off the bottoms. I got changed and my clothes felt nice and cool.

They gave us colouring books on the plane. Really babyish. Robin left his on the seat but I brought mine. The picture on the first page was of a bunch of flowers. The crayons that came with it were all melty from the heat. There were two different greens to colour in the flower stalks, dark and light. I made sure I didn’t get the floor or the bed dirty with the little bits that came off. I brushed them into the drawer of the table next to my bed. There was a Bible inside, with a silver cross on the front and really thin pages. I could hear Dad speaking on the phone. He had forgotten my drink and I was afraid I would die from thirst.

I went into Robin’s room where he was arranging his wildlife books, lining them up on top of his table. Dad’s trying to get us to like everything isn’t he, I said, and Robin told me to lighten up. He had a Bible in his drawer too. I asked him what we were meant to do with them and he said Pray, even though he doesn’t believe in God or Heaven. Then Dad brought us water with ice cubes in. He had no shoes on, and instead of his trousers he was wearing a piece of material wrapped around like a skirt. A leather string around his neck had a pointy tooth hanging off. He said it was a Great White’s. I didn’t believe him but I didn’t say anything. I drank my water so quickly it was painful. Robin hadn’t even started his and mine was all gone. Dad asked if I wanted another one but I could hardly speak with the ice-cold all around my heart. He took my empty glass and you could see his bare footprints on the floor, walking out of the door.