SOMEONE DIFFERENT (27 page)

There was just nowhere. Nowhere at all where I wouldn’t have felt awkward, or embarrassed, or on edge. And the only person in the whole world who would’ve been truly pleased to see me, lived with two people who couldn’t even stand to look at me.

Slowly, I smoked the fag down as far as I could, then I c
hecked the time; half-five, not long ’til my curfew started. There probably wouldn’t be anybody left at Youth Offending that late, but I decided to try anyway.

‘The person at extension 6231 is not available to take your call ...’

The last thing I needed was having to go through it all in detail, but I stuttered my way through some kind of a message to Martin – by tomorrow morning, there’d be another curfew violation report landing on his desk; I had to at least try to explain it.

The dog that’d barked at Anna’s dad earlier appeared from one of the driveways opposite then. It walked over, sat next to me, and stared up.

‘It’s no good looking at me, mate,’ I said. ‘You’ve got more chance of finding somebody to take you in than I have, an’ you’re a scabby, old, knackered-up fleabag.’

It watched me for a minute, then some chip papers blew down the road, and it trotted off after them.

I looked around. So, what choices did I have? TWOC a car, drive it somewhere, sleep in that? Break into some empty house, sleep in that? Get caught, get banged up? Well, at least that’d be warm and dry.

Warm and dry.
Slowly, I stood up. There was somewhere warm and dry I knew. And I wouldn’t even have to break in, well, not really; it’d be the most legal option anyway. I felt in my pocket, and guessed the fiver from before must’ve ended-up on my dad’s floor. Oh, well, I’d just have to walk; it’d take me a few hours, which’d be a bit of a nightmare, but it wasn’t like I’d got anything better to do.

38 – Anna

Silence.

Silence in the car as we travelled home, silence around the dinner table, silence as I sat in my room later that evening. Why hadn’t they shouted, or threatened, or had another go at bad-mouthing Jay?

Gnawing away at my thumbnails one after the other, I thought hard to try and work it out. The only answer I could come up with, the only possible explanation, was that they’d done something – or that they were planning to do something. That had to be it, because otherwise there’s no way they’d have been so calm and quiet and distant, when underneath, they must
’ve be livid.

So what was it? What nasty little scheme had they dreamed-up in an attempt to make my life even more miserable?

They were downstairs, at that moment, both of them. They must be talking about it. After all, skipping school to be with Jay was the most unexpected, shocking, deplorable thing I’d ever done – publicly, anyway – it must be causing some reaction.

I closed my bedroom door and snuck down to the hallway without making a sound. University Challenge finished and the theme music blared out, then ended, but they didn’t speak. Something else came on; a documentary, about – of all things – young offenders. I listened with horror to the narrator’s voice:

Each year in England and Wales, around six thousand children under the age of eighteen are locked up. Seventy one percent of them have been involved with social services due to neglect or abuse, and children in custody are eighteen times more likely to commit suicide than their peers in the community. So, why is it, that we still put more of our children behind bars than any other country in Western Europe?

My face creased up as I thought about those statistics, but apparently, Mum and Dad weren’t quite so interested, because the programme quickly got switched over and replaced with the news.

And still, there was nothing on the discussion front. They were even being silent when I wasn’t around. What the hell had they done that could make them feel so sure of themselves?

I couldn’t wait any longer. I flung open the door, flounced into the lounge and landed on the sofa like I was performing a seat-drop on a trampoline.

Mum, who sat in the leather chair opposite, tried her best to ignore me and carried on flicking through the horsebox brochure that lay across her knee. When I slouched down even further though, lifted my feet on to one of the tables, and began pushing the antique vase back and forth with my toes, even she couldn’t keep up the charade any longer. Sliding the brochure to one side, she looked at me. ‘I’m surprised to see you back down again this evening,’ she said.

‘Why?’

‘Because I thought you might have felt at least a little ashamed of what you’ve done; shown at least a little regret.’

My stomach twitched. Stay strong, I told myself; don’t let her turn it all back round on you. I made my voice
extra firm. ‘Well, if you’d given me my phone back – if you’d have let me to speak to Jay – I wouldn’t have been forced into doing what I did.’

‘Don’t be so silly, Annabel, you weren’t forced
into doing anything. You chose to make an embarrassing spectacle of yourself at school, deliberately disobey a teacher, and spend the whole afternoon in the company of that boy, even though you knew how worried and disappointed we’d be.’

‘Why? Why are you so disappointed?’ I lifted my feet off the table and took hold of a cushion as I sat up straighter. ‘I know you think school’s like more important than oxygen, and I can even see why maybe I shouldn’t have wagged it, but what is it with Jay? What’s disappointing about him? You’ve never even spoken to him; you haven’t the slightest idea what he’s like?’

She scowled. ‘I don’t need to speak to him to know what he’s like; I’ve been to that house, met his dad, seen his violent behaviour – is that really the kind of future you see yourself having?’

‘It won’t be like that, Mum
–’

‘And surely, surely you can understand why we don’t want you being near him anymore; it was Rory whom he hit this time, what if next time, it’s you?’

‘What?’ Her words were so ridiculous they actually made me laugh. ‘Are you seriously saying that you think Jay could ever hurt me?’

Dad’s expression turned cold. ‘Don’t be so naive, Annabel; it’s hardly an impossibility. And since you haven’t taken the time to think it through for yourself, we’ll do it for you; we’ll do whatever’s necessary to protect you.’

Unbelievable; they were completely and utterly unbelievable. I shook my head. ‘Dad, the absolute, last person I need protecting from, is Jay. I feel safer when I’m with him than I do when ...’ I stopped myself just in time – there was no point rubbing it in too deeply. Then my eyes narrowed, and I remembered my reason for going in there in the first place. ‘What do you mean anyway, “do whatever’s necessary”? What have you gone and done?’

The pair of them fell silent. I looked between them slowly, my fingers tightening around the cushion. ‘You haven’t reported him to the police, have you? Tell me you haven’t ... not just because we slept together?’

Dad still couldn’t hear those words without flinching. But he blinked, then said quietly, ‘No. No we haven’t done that.’

The cushion dropped to my knee and I stroked it with my thumb. The relief though, was only temporary. ‘So, go on, then; what? In what way am I going to be, “protected”?’

They glanced at each other, and if they’d have just sold me into slavery, they couldn’t have looked more uncomfortable. Every breath I took sent a pain rattling through me. Dad loosened his tie. Mum’s eyes locked on the brochure – she was leaving this one to him; it must be bad, in fact, it must be downright bloody horrendous.

‘What?’ I slammed my hand into the sofa and glared at him. ‘What is it?’

‘Annabel, we’ve only done this because we care for you and we want what’s best, you must understand that.’ He wet his lips. ‘Your mother and I think that because of everything that’s happened recently – because of all the distractions and upsetting events – that you’d benefit from some time away from here.’

My mind raced. ‘You’re not still expecting me to go on that skiing holiday, are you?’

‘No, well, we’re not sure; we’ll discuss that later. What we are sure about, is that ...’ he stared at the floor for what seemed like an hour, then frowned before he looked up again. ‘... is that you should attend a different school from now on.’

‘But?’ My forehead wrinkled. What did he mean; what school, where, why? ‘How will that ...?’

I stood up, fighting to catch my breath. ‘Oh, God. You want to send me away, don’t you? You want to pack me off to some boarding school so I won’t be around here for months on end?’ My arms stiffened, the sound of blood rushed in my ears, and my temperature rose to boiling point. ‘Well, I won’t go. There’s no way. And if you think what I did this afternoon was bad, that’ll be nothing, I promise you. I’ll run off – with Jay; we’ll run off together and you’ll never see either of us again, ever.’

Dad stayed unnervingly calm. Clearly
, they’d expected that reaction, and he had his response already prepared. ‘No, you won’t,’ he said coolly. ‘Because that lad is on bail; if he breaks the conditions, a warrant will be issued for his arrest and he’ll go to prison.’ He leaned forward in his chair. ‘And do you really think it will help his case, Annabel, if you do abscond together – particularly if an allegation has been made against him ... an allegation that he’s guilty of having unlawful sex with you?’

My fingers found the back of my neck, and my nails dug into it like a knife. ‘But you said you hadn’t done that.’

‘We haven’t ... yet. But if you were to do anything as reckless and stupid as running away, what other option would we have?’

I felt like I’d been sliced open with a razorblade. I stood there, stunned and shivering and speechless. They’d trapped me. They’d beaten me. And they’d hurt me; they’d hurt me so, so much.

I’d always had a sort of feeling, a feeling that they didn’t really know me, or see me, or love me. That they had this idea of what their daughter should be like, and I wasn’t quite it, but if they just kept on pretending and chipping away, one day I might morph into it. And I’d been right, hadn’t I? Because if they had known and loved me, they wouldn’t have been able to do that to me. They’d have known how unhappy, and upset and desperately lonely I’d be at boarding school, and they’d have loved me far too much to use blackmail to get me there.

I put the cushion back neatly on the sofa and turned around. ‘OK,’ I said weakly. ‘I’ll go. But I’ll never
, ever forgive you for this. And do me a favour; don’t carry on pretending this has got anything to do with protecting me, or caring about me, or doing what’s best for me. This is all about you; you being ashamed of me, and you being embarrassed because I’ve found a boyfriend who doesn’t dress, or speak or live how you’d like him to.’

The door clicked quietly shut behind me and I climbed the stairs. I felt too numb to even cry. Without taking off my clothes, I sank into bed, and as I lay there staring at my ceiling, that numbness encased me like a coffin.

39 – Jay

The tack-room and office and that were all alarmed, but if you went through the fields and over the gates, and if you knew where the sensors were on the security lights, you could get into the barn fairly easy.

At the front, the bales of hay were only stacked about three high, but after that they went right up to the roof. I squeezed through as far as I could, moved a few around a bit, and managed to make some space behind them. Unless anybody came in right up close and looked over, they wouldn’t see me.

I didn’t want to use it much, because obviously I hadn’t got a charger, but I took my phone out and was surprised Anna hadn’t been in touch; maybe they’d taken the new phone off her as well? I wondered about texting her to find out, but then didn’t; there was no point worrying her by telling her
about my dad – that could wait ’til tomorrow – and if she asked me if I was OK, I didn’t want to have to lie.

Although there wasn’t much chance of me needing it, I decided to set the alarm as well. Becky started at eight, so I set it for six; that’d give me plenty of time to get out of there before it got light, even if I did happen to fall asleep.

It wasn’t proper freezing like it’d been a few weeks back, and I’d got pretty warm while I’d been walking, but I started to feel cold then. I zipped my jacket right up to the top, dragged the bales in a bit closer and pulled my sleeves over my hands. The hay smelt nice enough, but when I leaned my head back, it prickled and scratched against my neck. I tried to hutch my collar up a bit, but then that left a gap at the bottom of my back. It was no good; whatever I did I couldn’t win.