Running on the Cracks (14 page)

‘Finlay. Dad’s home.’ Mum brought him in a cup of tea. ‘Drink this and come down.’

It was evening already. Maybe he could get away with closing his eyes and going back to sleep again; as likely as not his parents would leave him undisturbed till morning. But he wanted to get this thing over with.

‘Just coming.’ He had half-formed a story. It was another lie of course, but it had to be, for Leo’s sake, and after today he would try to incorporate a little more blameless purity into his life.

Zigger stood to attention, tail wagging, as Finlay struggled to his feet.

‘You’d better stay here, Ziggy boy,’ Finlay told him. Somehow he didn’t think Dad and Zigger would hit it off straight away.

Mum and Dad were in the sitting room. There were no hugs this time.

‘Where the hell have you been?’ asked his father.

‘Chill, Dad,’ Finlay found himself answering instinctively, though he knew this was the one expression guaranteed to rile his father and produce the opposite result.

Here it came: ‘I will not “chill” as you call it. You’re lucky I’m not thumping you. Mum’s been off her head with worry, you stupid little—’

‘Steve, I think Finlay’s going to explain.’ Mum put a calming hand on Dad’s arm.

‘Go on then. But it had better be good.’

‘Well, I had this row with Mum. About what happened last night – no, the night before. I know it was mostly my fault.’

‘Oh, very magnanimous,’ muttered his
father, and ‘Wait, Steve,’ said his mother.

‘Anyway, I went off to … to a friend’s house.’

‘What friend?’

‘You don’t know them.’

‘Stop being so evasive. What friend?’

‘Was it a Chinese girl?’ asked Mum. ‘This one Rab’s been telling us about – Emma Clark?’

Finlay hesitated. Then, ‘Yes,’ he said.

‘So who is she? How come we’ve never heard of her?’

‘I don’t have to tell you about every single person I ever meet, do I?’ said Finlay, unwisely raising his voice. From upstairs, a sharp yapping started up.

‘And on top of everything, you pick up a bloody dog!’ his father shouted, thereby increasing the volume of the yapping.

‘Look, let’s go back to the Chinese girl,’ said Mum. ‘I think you must have been seeing her the night before as well. Were you, Finlay? Is she your girlfriend? Did you think we’d be
cross with you for having a girlfriend?’ In fact, she looked quite pleased.

‘No, she’s not really a girlfriend but … but I thought you’d think she was.’ This was working out better than he’d hoped. ‘I didn’t think you’d want me to be seeing her, or to go to her house. And then we were watching these DVDs and it somehow got really late, and her mum said it would be all right to stay the night.’

‘So why didn’t you phone?’

‘Well, I tried to, but it was always engaged. Maybe it was when you were phoning round and phoning the police and things.’

His parents were both looking thoughtful rather than incredulous. Was he on home ground now?

Not quite. ‘So what about this morning? Why didn’t you phone then? Why did you miss your paper round? Why weren’t you at school?’

Finlay tried to produce one of the weary sighs he was usually so good at but it didn’t come out quite right. ‘I can only answer
one question at a time,’ he said.

‘This isn’t the time for your cheeky retorts!’ His dad looked as if he was about to jump out of his seat, but again one of Mum’s calming pats restrained him.

‘I’ve got a different question,’ she said. ‘Is Emma in your class?’

‘Er …’ Finlay tried to remember what he had told Rab. ‘Yes,’ he said.

‘Well, that’s funny, because when I rang the school—’

‘No, no, I mean, she’s in my
year
but not my actual class. I forget which class she’s in.’

‘What I was going to say was they said there was no Emma Clark on the school roll.’

‘That’s probably because she’s new.’ Finlay was blustering, and they knew it. Mum was shaking her head now, in a sad kind of way.

‘We just want the truth, Finlay. What’s so hard about that? We know this girl exists – Rab told us. So who is she, and how do you know her?’

‘And when are you going to give her back her bloody dog?’ added Dad.

‘Actually, I was wondering about the dog … I mean, well, Emma’s little sister has found that she’s allergic to dogs. They’ve done these tests. So they can’t keep the dog.’

‘NO, WE ARE NOT HAVING THE BLOODY DOG!’

Zigger started up again, his yapping turning into loud barks, and Finlay could hear him scrabbling at his bedroom door.

It was all going wrong. If only he could tell them the truth.

The phone rang. Let it not be that hospital social worker, Finlay prayed.

Mum answered it. ‘Yes … yes. I see. A Chinese girl, yes. Leo? I thought it was Emma … A meeting? Yes, I think that’s a very good idea … Yes, all right, tomorrow evening then.’

She put the phone down. ‘That was Marina. She wants everything out in the open.’

‘Over to you, then, Leo,’ says Marina.

I’ve agreed to this. I’ve agreed to tell them all everything. ‘All’ is Finlay and his parents, Jacqueline, Kim, Marina and her husband Kenny. All eight of us are crammed into Marina and Kenny’s cosy little sitting room.

I’m not sure where to start. Finlay has already heard most of my story, of course – well, he’s been a huge part of it. Jacqueline knows a lot, and the others have been told bits and pieces – except for Finlay’s mum and dad. If I know Finlay the way I think I do, they’re still completely in the dark.

I swallow. They’re all looking at me. Public
speaking isn’t really my thing.

People always say ‘Begin at the beginning’ but what is the beginning? Is it the station loo? Or Uncle John by my bedside? The plane crash? Should I perhaps go further back than that, to Dad’s rift with his parents? Or is the real beginning back in a tiny village in Hong Kong?

‘I ran away to look for my grandparents,’ I say, and now that I’ve started it’s easy enough to go on. It all comes tumbling out, even if it’s in rather a muddly order.

Finlay’s parents are sitting either side of him on the little sofa. They’re goggling. I hope it’s not with horror at his undercover activities. I haven’t even got up to Zigger’s attack on Uncle John yet.

Occasionally someone chips in – mainly Jacqueline, of course. It’s an ordeal for her to stay silent for more than a few minutes. When I explain how Finlay met her at the Barras, she says, ‘Such a clever boy. A real detective.’ And then I see Finlay’s mum wiping away a tear with
the back of her hand. Mr Grant is patting Finlay’s knee awkwardly. They’re proud of him! That makes it easier to go on.

There are gasps all round at the incidents with Uncle John.

‘You know he came to our house?’ says Jacqueline. ‘Such a creepy man! I tried to ring you at Mary’s – to warn you. But someone told me I’d got the wrong number.’

Kenny is looking thoughtful now. ‘What kind of car does he have?’ he asks.

‘Kenny – that’s pure typical!’ Marina chides him. ‘The lassie’s in danger of her life and you just want to know about some motor.’

‘Sorry, I’m not sure. I’m not into cars. It’s quite old. A Ford Escort, I think.’

‘Blue?’

‘Yes, it is actually.’

‘Leave off your games, Kenny; this isn’t the Derren Brown mind-reader show. Let her get on with the story.’

‘Carry on,’ says Kenny. ‘I just need to find
something.’ He gets up from the fireside rug and leaves the room.

I’m nearly at the end now, but I realise I’ve left out the part about getting Mary into hospital. I tell them briefly about that.

‘Finlay did everything really,’ I say. ‘I was hiding in the wardrobe half the time.’

Finlay’s mum puts an arm round him and he gives her one of his funny smiles – shy but cheeky at the same time. ‘I told you I was going to see a mad old lady, didn’t I? I do tell the truth sometimes,’ he says.

‘Well done, Leo,’ says Marina, when I get to the end. Well, not quite the end – just up to my arrival at her house. She takes over from there.

‘Finlay knows how I am,’ she says, addressing his parents. ‘I’m a bit of a sucker for helping out, and I don’t like telling tales. But there has to be a limit. I’ve seen the mess young Finlay’s getting into and I don’t want to make it worse.’ She grins at him. ‘That way, I could end up with one of those Enimems, couldn’t I, Finlay?’

‘N of M,’ Finlay corrects her. His parents smile wryly but everyone else looks blank. ‘Notification of Misconduct,’ he explains in a mumble.

‘The main point is that it’s against the law to conceal a runaway,’ Marina continues. ‘Leo’s been reported to the polis. That means anyone hiding her is committing a crime.’

Jacqueline nods knowingly. ‘That’s just what your horrible uncle said, Leo.’

My heart sinks. ‘So I can’t stay?’

‘I didn’t say that.’

‘What, then?’

‘It’s all got to be above board. The Runaway helpline lot need to know where you are.’

Finlay looks betrayed. ‘Marina! You can’t report her.’

‘I didn’t say that either.’

‘
No one’s
going to grass her up!’ Finlay turns his look of outrage to his parents. ‘You won’t, will you?’

Kim speaks gently. ‘I think Marina means that Leo should make the phone call herself.’

‘But I can’t do that! They’ll make me go back there.’

‘I’m pretty sure they won’t. I’ve been looking into it,’ says Marina. ‘The Runaway helpline is a confidential number. But they will encourage you to see the polis, and to let them send a message home.’

‘It’s
not
home!’

‘Well, to the place you ran from.’

‘I’m not going to tell them where I am!’

‘You won’t need to. You just need to let them know you’re safe. And if you’re going to stay here, someone will probably have to vet me, and make sure
I’m
not a child molester.’

‘But …’ It’s hard to take all this in. ‘Are you sure I won’t have to go back? I mean, they are my relatives.’

‘But
we’re
your relatives too!’ says Jacqueline. ‘You can stay with us, can’t she, Mum? I know it’s a squash but we could fit an extra bed in with me and Suzanne.’

Finlay’s mum looks doubtful. ‘You’re not
such close relatives as Leo’s aunt, though, are you? The way I’ve been working it out, Kim, Leo must be your first cousin once removed.’

‘Well, no one’s removing her ever again!’ says Jacqueline.

‘Your grandfather would count as a closer relative,’ Finlay’s mum goes on. She’s obviously an expert on family trees. ‘But from what I understand he’s not keen to own up to the relationship.’

‘He’ll come round,’ Jacqueline says. ‘We’ll work on him, won’t we, Mum?’

‘You’re all missing the point,’ says Marina. ‘No one’s going to send a wee lassie back to a man who’s going to interfere with her.’

‘Well, he didn’t exactly …’

‘Come on. What about how he tried to bundle you into that car? When you tell the polis about that, he’s going to be the one on the run!’

‘The guy should be locked up,’ says Finlay’s dad.

I’m still not convinced. ‘Suppose they believe
him and not me?’

‘Well, in any case, they won’t send you back where you don’t want to be. Not if there’s a good alternative. That way you’d just run away again and that would make a lot more bother for everyone concerned.’

I’m still not sure. It goes against the grain to disclose my identity when I’ve been trying to conceal it for so long.

Kenny comes back in. He has a newspaper in his hand. ‘Did you say your uncle was called John?’ he says.

‘Yes.’

‘And what’s his surname?’

‘Baldwin.’

‘Read this,’ says Kenny.

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