Lies Like Love (6 page)

‘So.’ He hunted for another topic, something easier. ‘You coming to the fair?’ It was at the weekend and now he knew he really wanted her to come. With him. Even if she only wanted to talk about the books he hadn’t read.

‘I dunno.’

‘Well, it should be good.’ He nudged her, very gently.

‘Oh.’ Audrey blushed, her cheeks flaring a hotter pink. Leo was confused again; damn – this was all over the place. He forged on, determined to save the conversation even if he ended up making an idiot of himself.
Try and make her laugh
, he thought.
Employ wit, irony, anything. Break the ice all over again
.

‘You don’t have to – it’s not a required extra-curricular activity.’

‘What?’ Audrey was the one wearing armour. Leo shifted, trying to stand so she’d see him, alarmed at his inability to flirt. Had he always been this bad?

‘Nothing. Joke, not funny.’ She giggled then. She had a great smile. Really goofy, it took up half of her face. There, mission accomplished. She was still glowing from their run. But her glasses needed cleaning, he noticed, her shoes too – she was covered in mud but she hadn’t complained.

‘You will come though?’ His mouth had a mind of its
own. Straight away he wished he hadn’t said it. Desperate, or what.

‘All right, well, if I can. I’ll have to bring Peter.’

‘That’s cool. You should meet more people. Have fun. Otherwise it’ll get rather dull, won’t it, stuck in the Grange the whole time. All work, no play. And so on.’ He sounded like Graham now, doling out life lessons and clichés, and cringed. Maybe he should go into social work. Maybe he should back off.

‘Maybe. Just, well, I don’t know; I’d better go,’ Audrey said, moving away, shaking her hair back, her chin jutting up with that defiant pride. She started to walk away, but Leo followed; he couldn’t stop himself. Now he noticed that she was limping a bit, trying to hide it.

‘Audrey.’ The bell was summoning them inside; Leo pretended not to hear it and when she paused and looked at him with her big solemn eyes he spoke without thinking.

‘Is everything OK? Are you all right, Audrey?’

‘Course. I’m fine. Totally fine.’ Her expression changed, he felt a glare, and he knew he’d said the wrong thing again.

‘Yeah? Good. Well …’

What was it he was going to say? Her face was a distraction, her eyes full of shadows, blue and grey and green. They were like water. The bottom of the sea. He wanted to take the glasses off, look properly. Stare for the rest of the day and work her out. A tricky equation. More like a sonnet.
My mistress’ eyes are nothing like the sun
. He realized she was staring at him. They were staring at each other.

‘Just, come if you can, yeah?’

‘Sure.’ And she smiled so sweetly; it was a pure sort of smile, no side to it. No flirty, sugary
let me hook you up and reel you in and get you dancing to my tune
kind of thing. And that had been worth the whole horrendous conversation.

Everyone was talking about it. Jen shrugged, said it was something to do. Better than watching paint dry. I didn’t tell her Leo had asked me. I wasn’t sure if I’d said yes or not. But Lizzy hung over my desk, annoying me.

‘You going tomorrow?’

I shrugged.

‘We’ll look out for you, if you do. See you in the haunted house. Whooooo!’ she wailed in my face, then grinned, like that was funny. I didn’t trust her smile or her shiny hair. She wasn’t a flower; she was a weed. A foxglove.

‘Whatever,’ I said. ‘I’m going with Leo, actually.’ I don’t know what made me say that. Her mouth fell open.

‘God, you’re a bitch, aren’t you?’ Lizzy said, and for a second I felt really mean until her mouth puckered into that tight little O! of disgust I’d learned to watch out for. Not bothered, it didn’t matter, I talked back.

‘I guess I must be, if you say so, since apparently you know everything.’

Jen linked my little finger with her own, shook. This was congratulations. I got back to my chapter – Heathcliff was shouting at Cathy again – hoping Lizzy hadn’t seen my hands shaking as I turned the page, and she walked off with her gang, looking over their shoulders, not ready to give up yet.

The next afternoon when we got back to the flat there was a note pinned to the door. My name was on the envelope, written in black ink, in flowing writing. I snatched it, tore it. Gobbled the words:
Just in case you forgot. Fair tonight. I’ll be the one in the armour. Love Leo
.

Love Leo
. Boys did not write messages to me like that. That was the kind of thing that happened in one of Mum’s soppy magazines, not real life. Nobody had ever asked me, me in particular, to go somewhere or be somewhere, as if I were important. As if my presence would make a difference. I hadn’t known I was waiting to be chosen. And the fact that it was Leo who’d seen something he wanted. I swallowed and looked at Peter, who squinted his eyes.

‘You look like you’re going to be sick, Aud,’ he said. ‘Are you?’

‘No,’ I shouted, squealing and chasing him inside. ‘No, I’m not.’

Peter darted ahead of me and we made for the kitchen.

‘How about the fair, Pete? Shall we go?’ I called, rummaging in the fridge for something to eat. I gave him a piece of cheese, then found some crackers in the cupboard. Peter’s eyes widened as he nodded and chewed and I picked up my medication. Mum had left it out on the worktop, with a big note saying,
DON’T FORGET!

‘Really? Can we?’ he said, pulling at my sleeve.

‘Yup.’ I popped the pill out of the foil. Held it in my hand. ‘I’m going to have to try and find some money though. Help me look.’

Peter ran off and I stuffed the pill into the bin, grabbed
a glass, filled it with water and sipped a little, left it by the note, just in case.

We went through the pockets in Mum’s old jacket, searched the bottom of her bag. Scraped together almost seven pounds. Peter emptied his money box and that gave us another fifty pence in coppers.

‘Great. We’ll get a hot dog each, maybe candy-floss too, and go on some rides and meet Leo. OK?’ It came out in a big rush. We danced about a bit, holding hands. I swung him up and off his feet.

‘Come on, then,’ Peter said when I put him down, dragging me out, pulling me along, and even though I knew we shouldn’t do it we left the Grange behind and jumped back into the world.

The field beyond the school flashed with noise. In the dark faces blinked neon, Halloween pumpkins, their skin too bright, back-lit. I didn’t recognize anyone from school – no sign of Lizzy and her gang – or Jen either, but I held Peter’s hand tight as we wound our way through the crowds of candy-floss, cherry-red sugar dummies, cheap teddies, yellow floating ducks. It would be easy to lose him here. The thought made my stomach drop and I squeezed harder.

‘Ow,’ Peter said, wriggling away. For a second I let go, too busy scanning the rides for Leo. He wouldn’t come. He’d been taking the piss.

‘C’mon, Aud,’ called Peter, dragging at my arm. ‘C’mon, I want to go on the waltzers. With you.’

Peter towed me into the crowd and we weaved through the swarm of kids and grown-ups, then clambered on to the ride, the metal steps ringing.

‘Hey!’ A shout. I startled, nearly jumped off again when Leo climbed in beside me.

‘Found you.’ He paid for the ride and I stuffed my money back in my purse as the seat juddered, then began to move. I held tight and a boy, face silly with freckles, hair frothing on his upper lip, grabbed our carriage, swung it round and we were spinning faster, out of control, into the swirling darkness, the techno beat pounding, pushing, pulsing in time with screams. Mine too. I screamed for the future, for the hopes that I didn’t dare let out. I screamed because there was no one to stop me, no one watching, no one who cared.

Leo slid along the seat, crushing against me. ‘Sorry,’ he gasped, and I laughed, sandwiched between him and Peter, who was almost crazy with excitement, shouting at someone he recognized from school, waving, hands free.

‘Hold on!’ I yelled, screwing my eyes shut. We spun again: wild, jerking. When I opened my eyes the world was upside down.

Stop
, I wanted to shout, although what I meant was,
Don’t stop ever
, as we turned in faster circles, drilling into the sky, up and away, in a spin that was scary and loose, slipping because there was nothing to hold on to any more, flying stars in another Milky Way.

The ride groaned to an end and we tumbled back to solid ground. Leo held me up, dizzy, still spinning. My legs jelly. All this touching. In one night.

The things I said to Leo, like, ‘I think I’m going to puke.’ Which was not the thing to say to a boy like him.

And him not minding, holding my hair away from my face.

‘Take deep breaths. It’ll be all right.’

I took in lungfuls of air that smelled of grease and sugar but mostly excitement, and we stood not saying anything much when Peter disappeared into the crowds, and then we were weaving behind, holding hands somehow; how did that happen? I didn’t know.

‘Look,’ Leo said, pulling me to the left, towards a stall. ‘I love this. Bows and arrows. Let’s win something.’

‘All right.’

Half an eye on Peter queuing for the helter-skelter, I took the plastic bow and handed over my money. Lining up the arrow, I took aim. Leo was ready.

‘After three,’ he said, and counted us down. We released our shots. Mine hit home.

‘Yes! I won,’ I cried, stupidly excited, not caring. ‘Look, see – it hit the bullseye. Yes!’

‘I expected nothing less.’ Leo was laughing too. ‘Choose your prize. I’m having another go.’

I picked out a teddy bear, saggy, without enough stuffing, nothing like the plump and fluffy things that lined the shelves in my room. I used to love those bears. Then I started hating them and I didn’t know why. This one looked sad, but sort of winsome with its forlorn, grey expression.

‘Here.’ I handed it to Leo, not thinking, just wanting to give him something, even if it was only this. ‘You can have it.’

‘What? No, you won it – it’s yours. You shoot a mean arrow.’

‘Don’t you want it? Look, it’s cute. And sad now you
don’t want him.’ The bear waved at him and wiped away an imaginary tear.

‘Well, yeah, all right. Thanks.’ He took it, smiling, inspecting the silly toy. ‘I guess I’ll have to think of something to call him.’

‘Sad Sack,’ I said, pulling a face. Leo chucked it in the air, caught it.

‘He’s not sad now, not now we’ve rescued him from the fair.’

‘True.’ There was a pause. I put my hands in my pockets. ‘Where’s Peter?’

Leo pointed; he was whizzing down the helter-skelter and we wandered over and grabbed him at the end.

‘Can I go again? Can I, Aud?’

His hair was all over the place, his cheeks pink. I pulled him close, kissed his face, but he struggled free, wiping at his skin; he was desperate to be off. I held on to him as he wriggled and grumbled.

‘It’s all right – I’ll take him,’ said Leo, handing over another pound coin and chasing Peter up the metal steps.

I don’t know how they balanced on the little hessian mat. Leo was way too big, but somehow he managed it, Peter safe on his knee, and they came whizzing down, whooping together. Peter stared up at Leo with a look I’d not seen in his eyes before.
Awe
, I thought,
hero worship
. Mum had a photo of me looking up at my dad with just the same expression. I swallowed down the lump in my throat.

‘That was a laugh. What now?’ Leo said, coming over and slinging his arm round me, perfectly casual, so casual
that I didn’t freeze. Well, not exactly. I must have been squeezing Peter’s hand though.

‘What’s the matter, Aud?’ Peter said, peering at me and pulling away.

‘Nothing,’ I whispered, still hiding behind my hair, ‘nothing.’

‘Ghost train?’ Leo said, saving me.

‘Yeah.’ Peter jumped up and down, dropping my hand to hold Leo’s and I let myself be dragged on to the ride.

Lizzy was a couple of places behind us in the queue. I pretended not to notice her when she hollered, ‘Hey, Leo!’ So loud he had to turn and look at her, but he just nodded and then we clambered into a car and were off, jolting into the dark. Peter jumped against me as a skeleton dropped into our path and I squeezed him closer.

‘Pete, it’s pretend. It’s fine.’ I could hear Lizzy screaming too and that made me grin. She should try living in the Grange if she wanted to know about scary. Leo took my hand again and we held Peter between us.

‘That was fun,’ I said. ‘Thanks.’ We climbed off, still laughing, jelly legs.

‘More?’

‘No, we should go.’

‘Seriously, it’s early,’ Leo said, scanning the field. ‘I’ll buy you more candy-floss?’

‘No, we really should go,’ I said, not wanting to, wondering if he’d take us back to the farm if I asked. The flat would be dark and cold. No way was I going to sleep on my own in my room. Peter wouldn’t mind if I crawled in with him. We stood for a bit. I looked at Leo again. He
was tall and broad and looked warm and clean, his cheeks bright from the cold, his hair a bit tousled. He suited messy. The thing about Leo was, he made you feel safe. He made you feel OK about things. Peter felt it too.

‘Sorry,’ I said to Leo. ‘Mum’ll be worried.’ He opened his mouth to answer, but I gabbled on, like someone had flicked a switch and all the words I’d never meant to say were fighting with one another to be heard: ‘But, well, this was good, you know, so thanks for inviting us and everything. It’s been fun. Really.’

‘Good. I’m glad you came,’ Leo said.

‘Yeah, well, I was going to ask you –’

‘What?’

‘Well, I have this essay; it’s about that Jane Eyre book. And, I kind of didn’t go to school that much last year, not really, because I wasn’t that well, and now I want to do the essay but I got stuck. I did try, and then I thought, would you help me? Give me a couple of pointers?’ Hot coals in my cheeks, my eyes thick and stupid, I toed the earth with my shoe, grinding a hole which I hoped might swallow me up if he said no. I hadn’t planned on saying any of it, but I really did want to do well. And I wanted to see him again. Soon. He jumped on my words, speaking fast too.

‘No, seriously, that’d be fine, cool. Tomorrow? I’ll come over?’

I nodded and grabbed Peter’s hand and ran, excited now for the next day, for what would happen and for the night I’d had and how I had another friend and everything was getting better at last.