You Against Me (16 page)

‘I know. I’ll borrow my mate’s car and we’ll do that wild swim thing. You remember telling me about some place where the waves are really massive?’

She frowned at him, like that was the worst idea in the world. But he was burning with it. It was what he wanted to do more than anything else. Just for a bit. For a day. A half-day. An hour. To be alone with her.

Seconds went past. Ellie chewed her lip and stared down at the beach. The bloke with the dog was still there and the dog was yapping because the bloke was holding a ball a fraction out of its reach. Ellie watched them. Out of the corner of his eye, Mikey watched her.

This was deep for her. She was only in Year Eleven and he was two years older and knew stuff about the world. It was his job to make her feel OK.

‘Nothing can happen unless you want it to,’ he said.

Which wasn’t strictly true – just look at Karyn. But it would be true for Ellie. Eventually she’d give stuff away about her brother, and he wasn’t going to hurt her while he looked for it. They’d hang out, kiss some more. No harm done.

‘Ellie, come out with me, come on. What are you scared of?’

‘Not of you.’ She whipped round, her eyes shining. ‘All right, let’s do it then.’

It was like she was accepting a dare.

All sensible websites suggest that you meet a potentially dangerous stranger in a crowded place, and that you tell a family member or a friend what you are doing. And here Ellie was, Saturday lunchtime, about to break the rules. In less than two hours, Mikey McKenzie would arrive at her house, and no one knew he was coming and no one but her would be in.

RSN
, he texted.

He was right, it was going to be
real soon now
.

Ellie threw the phone onto her bed as if it was hot, then opened her bedroom window and looked out at the storm, at the dark clouds and fat splashing rain. She leaned on her elbows and watched. A cat dived for cover, cracks in the lawn sucked water into their grooves and all the trees sighed.

She gave revising a try, lay on her bed with geography books and tried to care about the movement of people from rural to urban areas following the industrial revolution. But thinking of big stuff made her feel small, and when she felt small, she stopped caring about revising and GCSEs and what happened next. It was easy to break any taboo when nothing mattered, so she picked up her phone and texted,
TAU
. It was true, she was thinking about him. He was pretty much all she’d been thinking about since Monday at the harbour.

His text came whizzing back:
XOXOXO
.

A series of hugs and kisses.

She needed food. Diets didn’t count in a crisis.

Her parents were sitting holding hands at the kitchen table. Cups of coffee and empty plates in front of them. They looked up and smiled as she walked in. It was lovely, like a normal family again.

‘Hungry?’ Mum said, pushing her chair back. ‘I’ve just made your dad a bacon butty. Want me to make you something?’

‘No thanks.’

Ellie knew what she wanted – one of Tom’s double chocolate muffins, kept in the bread bin and not to be eaten by anyone but him.

She ignored her mum’s frown as she helped herself and sat down to unwrap it. ‘You guys still going out?’

Her father nodded absently. ‘As soon as this rain eases up.’

They all looked out of the window, at the garden sinking under the weight of water. And that was it. Extent of conversation. Ellie’s journey down the stairs and into the kitchen had lightened the mood for a nanosecond. It was weird how there was nothing left to say or do that didn’t relate to Tom. They fell back into grief so easily.

Eventually, Mum took a sip of her coffee, grimaced and put the cup back down. ‘I can’t believe it’s the weekend again,’ she said. ‘I keep thinking any minute this will stop and we’ll go back to normal.’

Dad wiped a hand across his brow. He looked tired. ‘We shouldn’t expect normal any more. Not if that little bitch insists on going through with this.’

That was new, that word, and the way he spat it out.

‘Should you be calling her that, Dad?’

He looked at Ellie open-mouthed. ‘She’s in the process of ruining your brother’s life!’

‘It’s a horrible word, that’s all.’

He shook his head as if she was clearly mad and let his eyes slide back to the window.

When she was a kid, Ellie had spent every Saturday morning with Dad in the park – they’d go to the playground, feed the ducks on the lake, see if they could find decent trees for her to climb. Mum did a yoga class, Tom had football, it was only the two of them. ‘Wild child,’ Dad called her, and he’d pick leaves and sticks from her hair and let her choose whatever she wanted from the café for lunch. But something changed when she got to eleven, like he shrank away. She was
too big
for cuddles,
too old
for games and messing around. It was a slow retreat. But sometimes, if Ellie really thought about it, she realized he hadn’t taken proper notice of her for years.

‘Twenty-five miles in this weather,’ Dad said, ‘and when we get there, she won’t even recognize us.’

‘Simon,’ Mum said, ‘that’s my mother you’re talking about.’

He held up his hands. ‘So shoot me!’

Ellie sighed, checked her mobile. Just over an hour to go. No new messages. ‘So,’ she said, ‘are you coming back at the usual time?’

Her mum nodded. ‘Should be.’

‘Definitely,’ Dad said.

‘You’re only going to see Gran, right? Nothing else? You’re not going to the cottage to do more clearing out?’

‘Why all the questions?’ Dad said.

‘No reason.’ She pushed her plate away. She suddenly felt sick.

‘You shouldn’t’ve taken that muffin if you didn’t want it,’ Mum said. ‘In fact, you shouldn’t’ve taken it anyway.’ She slipped the muffin into the bin, licked her fingers then slotted her chair back under the table and began to rinse the plate in the sink.

Ellie checked her phone again. ‘And Tom’s out all day, is he?’

Her mum gave her a sad smile. ‘Might as well let him have fun while he can.’

‘Golf club,’ Dad said. ‘He’ll be indoors on the swing simulator if he’s got any sense. Exactly where I’d like to be right now, in fact.’

Ellie see-sawed her fork, tilting it backwards and forwards. It left indents in the tablecloth.

Dad frowned at her. ‘Are you up to something, Eleanor?’

Yes, don’t leave me alone. I’ve done this foolish thing …

He said, ‘You’re supposed to be revising today, that’s what we agreed.’ History notes were scattered on her bedroom floor, her Art project lay half finished on her desk, she hadn’t even begun revising Spanish. If her father knew the extent to which she was falling behind, he’d freak. She’d probably be grounded until she was eighteen.

‘So,’ he said, ‘what subject is it today?’

She told him Geography – the only subject she’d done any work on since Monday.

‘Ah,’ he said, ‘ox-bow lakes.’ And he patted her briefly on the hand. ‘I envy you, Ellie. I wish I had something to take my mind off all this.’

Maybe she should tell him.
I’ve invited Mikey McKenzie to the house. You know him, sure you do, he’s Karyn McKenzie’s brother. I’ve got a plan. Trouble is, it terrifies me …

‘This rain isn’t stopping,’ Mum said from the sink. ‘What shall we do?’

Dad stood up. ‘Let’s go. Get it over with.’ He looked down at Ellie. ‘Any messages for Gran?’

‘Um no, not really. Tell her I’ll come and see her soon. Tell her I miss her.’

He nodded, bent down and brushed the top of her head with a kiss. ‘Work well then.’

Warmth flooded through her. He hadn’t done that for years and years.

And now the ritual of finding things. Mum fumbled in her handbag for the car keys, which she eventually found in her coat pocket. Dad watched her in a distracted way before checking his own pockets for the keys she’d already found. He scooped up his wallet, turned on his mobile and then realized he had no idea where his glasses were. Mum, meanwhile, was convinced she’d lost her purse and had to root through her entire handbag again.

How vulnerable they seemed. How old and grey they’d be one day.
I could come with you
, Ellie wanted to say.
I’ll look after you. Let me sit in the back of the car and we’ll sing songs. When we get to the nursing home, Gran will give us Murray Mints and we’ll take her out for a spin in her wheelchair
.

But, really, she knew how that kind of day would work out, and it didn’t solve anything. At least if she stayed at home, everything would be different by the time her parents got back.

When Mikey walked into the lounge, his mum switched off the vacuum cleaner to admire him. Holly and Karyn looked up from their game of Snakes and Ladders and wolf-whistled simultaneously.

He laughed. He had on his new T-shirt and favourite jeans. He’d shaved, showered and even used mouthwash. He knew he looked good and gave a male-model strut across the carpet to prove it.

‘Look at my son,’ Mum said. ‘Look at my gorgeous boy.’

‘Who’s it today, then?’ Karyn asked as she shook the dice and threw them on the table. ‘’Cos that’s more effort than most of them get.’

She gave him that cheeky half-smile he’d forgotten about and he felt a bit bad then. But there was no way he could tell her about Ellie, not until he’d got all the information he needed. She wouldn’t understand.

Holly reached for his hand, tucked her own into it. ‘Where will you take her?’

‘Don’t know yet. Out and about.’

He sat at the table and watched them play. Karyn was going down ladders as well as snakes to let Holly win. She winked at him when she clocked he’d noticed.

Mum switched the vacuum back on and they pulled their knees up so she could get to the spaces under their feet. It made Mikey feel like a kid.

‘I’m going to buy some new cushions,’ Mum yelled over the noise. ‘They’ve got some nice ones in the market with embroidery on. New cushions would look lovely in here, don’t you think? And maybe a rug.’

Mikey nodded in agreement, then checked the clock. Twenty minutes to go. He tapped his pocket for the car keys. He felt crap lying to Jacko, but there was no way he’d have lent him the car and agreed to postponing the golf-club recce a second time if he hadn’t.

‘There are things they look for,’ Mum said as she switched off the vacuum and coiled the lead up. ‘They look for dirt, but they also look for smells. I’ve had the windows open all morning and I got one of those plug-in air fresheners.’

She stood, hands on hips, pleased with herself.

‘It’s been like zero degrees with those windows open and she wouldn’t let me shut them,’ Karyn said, her eyes amused.

Mum smiled across at her. ‘You’re cold because you don’t eat enough, and that’s what’s happening next – toast.’

Karyn packed the game away and got Holly some paper and pens instead. Mum made four cups of tea and buttered some toast, even spread it with jam and cut it into squares. She placed Karyn’s plate gently on the table in front of her.

‘It’s ages since I saw you eat anything,’ she said.

Karyn sighed with pleasure and picked up a square of toast. Easy as that.

She looked happier than Mikey had seen her for days. He knew why. She thought every day was going to be as cheery as this from now on. She thought Mum would save her.

It was easy to believe as they sat there together, sipping their tea and eating toast. Things had been better since Gillian’s visit on Monday. Mum had sobered up and collected Holly, then phoned the social worker to apologize. Monday night, she’d sat down with the three of them and promised never to disappear like that again. ‘Everything’s going to be different from now on,’ she said.

Over the last four days she’d spring-cleaned the hallway, the lounge and the kitchen. The whole flat was beginning to look bigger and brighter. Over the weekend she planned to work her way upstairs. Mikey knew what would happen then. She’d fill dustbin bags with old toys and clothes. She’d get ridiculous with it, start throwing things away that people still wanted. Mikey remembered his denim jacket going that way last year, and Holly weeping for hours over her football card collection. Next week, if Mum still hadn’t run out of energy, she might get the local paper and look for jobs. She’d circle them, maybe cut them out and put them in a pile somewhere. And then she’d start saying stuff about how they all took her for granted, how nothing good ever happened to her. And then she’d give herself a little reward – maybe a cheap bottle of red from Ajay’s over the road. ‘Just the one,’ she’d say.

And round and round they’d go again. It was so predictable.

‘OK, Mum,’ he said, ‘a little test before I go. Monday morning.
Ding-dong
, there’s the social worker again, all smiles, wanting to help. You’ve been cleaning for days and in she comes, very impressed. First question:
Why has Holly been off school?
’

‘She won’t ask me that.’

‘She might. What will you say?’

‘I’ll say she was sick.’

‘What was wrong with her?’

‘She had a headache.’

‘Kids don’t get headaches.’

Mum moved the ashtray a centimetre to the left, matched the lighter with the edge of the table, making patterns. ‘It’s all right, I can handle it. I told you, it’s going to be different now.’

‘Tell them a fever and a cough, or that she kept throwing up. Not a headache. And don’t smoke in front of her.’

He knew how important his mum’s fags were, how they kept her calm. He knew he was being unkind.

‘Stop worrying,’ she said. ‘It’s only a support visit, nothing else. I’ll sit by the window. I’ll tell her I never do it with Holly around.’

‘Show her the smoke alarm,’ Holly said, pointing up at the ceiling with the end of her felt-tip pen.

Mikey followed her gaze. Sober for days, and a tidy flat was one thing, but a fully-installed and working smoke alarm was definitely something new.

Mum grinned at him. ‘You’re impressed.’

He couldn’t help smiling back.

She glanced at the clock. ‘Go and have fun, Mikey. Go on, you’ve done enough.’