Lucas (45 page)

‘The police. They'll know he died over an hour ago. They can tell. They'll want to know why I didn't ring straight away.'

‘So? Tell them.'

‘I can't, can I?'

‘Why not?'

‘Because I don't know.'

‘Oh.' She looked down, a little embarrassed, as if she'd suddenly realised there was something wrong with me. She had that don't-know-what-to-do look on her face; the kind of look you get when a mad person sits next to you on a bus. But it didn't last long. After a moment's thought she wiped her nose and said, ‘Well, all right, but you're not going to get arrested just because you don't know why you didn't do something, are you?'

‘No, they'll probably just put me in a loony bin.'

‘Don't be stupid.'

‘Or a home, or something.'

‘Martyn—'

‘They won't let me stay here, will they?' And then it dawned on me. ‘Oh, God. Aunty Jean. They'll make me go and live at Aunty Jean's.'

‘No they won't.'

‘Of course they will! What else can they do? Christ! I can't live with her, I can't stand the woman. She's worse than Dad.'

‘I'm sure it's not
that
bad.'

‘How would you know?' I snapped.

She looked hurt. ‘I'm only trying to help.'

‘Yeah, I know … I know. I'm sorry. It's just … I don't know.'

It was still pouring down. Rain streamed on the kitchen window. The shaving foam snow had melted. All that was left was a murky trail on the glass and a grubby white residue hardening on the sill. Alex scratched absently at the table top with a teaspoon, chewing her lip, while I just sat there thinking. It was one of those
if only
situations. If only no one knew about it. If only I had time to think. If only I could make things disappear. If only …

‘Look,' Alex said calmly, ‘why don't you let me call the police. I'll explain what's happened. I'm sure it'll be all right. I mean, it's not like he's been lying there for weeks, is it? It's only been an hour or so. They'll understand, they're not monsters.'

I shook my head.

‘Why not?'

‘I've already
told
you, they'll want to know why I didn't tell them about it immediately, and I won't have an answer. It's bound to make them suspicious. They'll think I've got something to hide.'

‘Yes, but you haven't, have you? It was an accident.'

‘They don't know that.'

‘But you can't just
leave
it, Martyn. You've got to do something. You've got to tell
some
body.'

I thought about it. I tried to follow it through – what if this, what if that – but there was nothing there. All I could see was a black hole. ‘Anyway,' I said, ‘whatever I do, I'll still end up at Aunty Jean's.'

‘But you won't have to stay there for ever, will you? You'll be sixteen soon enough, you can get your own place.'

‘I'll be in a straightjacket by then.'

‘And what do you think's going to happen if you leave your dad's body in the front room?'

I looked at her. ‘I don't know.'

She took a deep breath and sighed.

And that's how it went on for the rest of the night. Alex saying call the police and me saying no. Alex saying why not and me saying I can't. Why not? Because. Yes, but. No. Why not? Because. Yes, but. No … Round and round in never-ending circles. We weren't getting anywhere. By the time it got to midnight we were both too tired to carry on.

‘Let's talk about it tomorrow,' I said finally.

‘It's already tomorrow. The longer you leave it—'

‘I know. Let me think about it, OK? I'll sort it out in the morning.'

She sighed again, looked at her watch and nodded wearily. ‘All right.'

I got up and went over to the back door. On the path outside, wet black bin-liners sagged by the wall. Cats had got into one, scattering the path with sodden tissue and chicken bones.

‘What about tonight,' Alex said. ‘You can't stay here.'

‘I'll be all right.'

‘You can come over to my place if you want. I'll get Mum to make up a bed in the spare room.'

‘Thanks,' I said, locking the door. ‘But I'll be all right here.'

We were standing in the doorway. The rain had stopped. A crescent moon hung high and white in the black sky. The street was empty, the surface of the road wet and black in
the sodium glow of streetlights. Alex buttoned her coat.

‘Are you sure you'll be all right?' she asked again.

I nodded.

She put her hands in her pockets. ‘I'd better go. I'll come round in the morning. OK?'

I watched her cross the road back to her house. Back to her home, her mother, her warm bed.

She didn't look back.

I shut the door.

The house was still cold. And quiet.

I went upstairs and got into bed.

Lucas

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First published by The Chicken House, 2003
This electronic edition published by Scholastic Australia Pty Limited, 2014
E-PUB/MOBI eISBN 9781925063677

Text © Kevin Brooks 2003
Cover design by Steve Wells

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Martyn Pig

Text © Kevin Brooks 2002

First print edition published in Great Britain in 2002
Electronic edition published in 2013
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Cover design by Steve Wells

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eISBN 978-1-908435-71-2