◆◆◆
It was two days later. Ed caught up with us at break as we sunned ourselves on the playing field.
"Have you heard?" he asked, as he plopped down on the grass next to us. "Andy and Helena have done a bunk!"
Andy and Helena were college sweethearts..
"They've run off?" Em said. "Why?"
"Helena's parents banned her from seeing Andy during the exams. But I never thought they'd run away together."
"I don't blame her," I said. "Why should parents dictate who she can and can't see? She has rights!" Em rolled her eyes in exasperation.
"Well, I think it's stupid. She should have waited till after the exams."
I shrugged.
"Whatever."
"If she'd run off with a boy in Saudi, she could have been stoned to death," said Ed conversationally. We turned to him in horror.
"Seriously?"
"It's possible. In the past, women couldn’t even go out of the house without a man's permission."
"That's insane," I said. "I bet your Mum hated that!"
There was an awkward silence. Em and Ed looked at each other.
"What?" I asked curiously.
"Ed's an orphan," Em said. I immediately felt bad.
"God, sorry Ed. How did... I mean, when did you, er, lose your folks?" He shrugged, seemingly unbothered.
"I didn't know them really. I was very young. They died in a car crash and I live with my guardians now. They're pretty easy going."
"Ed was adopted from an orphanage when he was seven," Em explained. It dawned on me that the two of them had obviously been hanging out without me, and having some pretty intense conversations. I felt an unexpected stab of jealousy.
"I never knew my Dad," I told him. "He died before I was born. He was a soldier."
"A hero, then?" Ed sounded interested, and I flushed. I didn't know much about Dad, not even what he looked like, really. I only had one blurry picture. Mum said she'd lost the rest when I was a baby.
"Afghanistan. But Mum and I don't talk about him." There was an awkward pause. Ed gave me a sympathetic look and changed the subject.
"So where's your Mum from? Obviously from somewhere exotic."
I rubbed my arms self-consciously. I hated any reference to my skin colour, but it was pretty hard to hide.
"She's from India. Bombay, only it's Mumbai now. She was really poor, like begging-on-the-streets poor. She was an orphan too, like you."
"That's tough. So you don't have a father, and you don't have any other family apart from your Mum?" His eyes rested on me, full of compassion, and I had to look away. I was acutely aware Em was watching us.
"I guess." I mumbled. "She doesn't say much about it."
"Do you know what caste she's from?" I frowned, confused.
"Caste?"
Em laughed, finally joining the conversation. "She thinks caste is a list of movie actors."
"Well, what do you mean?" I asked huffily.
"You know, it's like a class system in India," Ed explained. I shook my head, bewildered. "Don't you know anything about your heritage?" He seemed genuinely amused that I was ignorant of my roots.
"I was born in England," I said defensively. "I don't think of myself as an Indian."
"Well, the caste system is pretty archaic," he said. "I just thought you might know what line you were descended from."
"Haven't a clue. How do you know all this stuff anyway?"
"Our housekeeper in Saudi was from Kerala."
"Oh, your housekeeper!" I leapt on this delightedly. "And did your housekeeper share staff quarters with the chauffeur and the gardener?"
"Don't be silly," he grinned. "We didn't have a gardener. Saudi's a desert, remember? Duh!"
"Well, pardon my ignorance!"
"Stop it, you two." Em punched Ed lightly on the shoulder, then looked at her watch. "I've got to go. I'm meant to be finishing some coding. I'll see you guys later."
She sprang up and ran off towards the computer room. I noticed Ed watching her go, a faint smile on his face.
"Wow, you've got it bad," I observed.
"Got what?"
"The hots for Em."
He flushed. "Well, what's not to like? She's kind, and smart, and uncomplicated."
"'Uncomplicated'?" I snorted. "That's romantic! And uncomplicated is high on your list of girlfriend requirements is it?"
"You'd be surprised how sexy it can be." He leaned back on one elbow and looked up at me, shielding his eyes from the sun. "Now you, Ms Deva, are very complicated."
"How do you mean?"
"You're competitive, yet defensive. You're pretty enough to hang with the cool kids but you choose to stay loyal to the class nerd. You helped save a man's life this week but you haven't said a word about it."
I blinked.
"How did you know about that?"
"Little bird told me."
"Em. She shouldn't have said anything. It wasn't major. It wasn't as if I had to give him the kiss of life or anything."
He stayed silent, and the word 'kiss' seemed to hang in the air. My eyes inadvertently flicked to his mouth. Flustered, I looked away. "Anyway, Mum did most of it."
"She sounds amazing. How does she know so much about saving lives?"
I shrugged. "No idea. And she wouldn't tell me anyway. We don't really get on."
"How come?"
"She's a hypocrite. She had a rubbish life in India, but she still tries to ram Hindu stuff down my throat."
"Like what?"
"Gods and stuff. And curry."
"I don't think I've ever complained about having curry rammed down my throat." His voice was gently teasing, but I ploughed on.
"And she's always out. She works in the evenings, looking after some old bloke."
"Only in the evenings? Why doesn't he need looking after in the day?"
I paused.
"Umm, actually, I don't know. She's just always worked evenings."
"What's the old bloke's name?"
He was looking at me intently, and I raised an eyebrow.
"What's with all the questions? You sound like you're interrogating me!"
He smiled and flopped onto his back.
"Just interested. No big deal."
"See, I'm not that complicated."
The bell went, and a teacher started walking round the playground calling everyone in. I stiffened as I recognised Miss Smith.
I watched her with narrowed eyes, but there was nothing out of the ordinary. No shadows. I let my shoulders relax, shaking my head with a rueful smile, before realising I probably looked like a lunatic to Ed. I turned to him and found he’d sat up. His gaze was inches from mine. For a long moment, I couldn't look away.
"On the contrary, Ms Deva," he said slowly. "There is definitely more to you than meets the eye."
◆◆◆
I watched Mummy brushing her hair in the mirror. She didn't know I was there, I was hiding in her wardrobe. I liked trying on her shoes, even though they were far too big for my tiny feet. Mummy put her brush down and picked up a photo. It was Daddy, but I had never seen this photo before. He was wearing black and he was carrying something. Something sharp. I couldn't see what it was. But I saw Mummy crying over the photo. Then she looked in the mirror and her eyes changed colour, and then I couldn't see anymore because the shadows came. And I started screaming.
I woke with a jump. My room was dark, but I'd left my curtains open and I could see a pale sliver of moon outside. I felt hot and my hair was damp from sweat.
I looked at the clock by my bed. The illuminated numbers said it was 2.34am. I lay back on my pillows, trying to remember my dream. Or was it a memory? I remembered being in the wardrobe, and something had scared me, and shortly after that I had been taken to see a psychiatrist. Traumatised by not knowing her father, Mrs Deva. Single child of a single parent. She'll grow out of it. And I had.
A car pulled up outside the house. I pushed my duvet back and went to the
window. In the soft glare of the street-lamps, I saw Mum climbing out of our beaten up old Jeep. I frowned. Ed was right - it was weird that she worked so late.
Then the breath caught in my throat as I realised Mum was hurt. She staggered, holding her arm, and I saw dark stains smeared on her shirt sleeve. She let herself into the house and I ran downstairs.
"Mum! What happened? Are you okay?"
She looked startled to see me, her brown skin paler than usual.
"What are you doing up? It's after two."
"I was awake. What happened to your arm?"
"My arm?" She looked at the blood on her sleeve. "Oh, Henry had a nose bleed." She gave a little laugh. "He used my sleeve until I could find him a tissue."
"It looks like something cut through it." There was a bad rip in the cloth, as if it had been savaged.
"It just got a bit torn, that's all. Look." Mum pulled the sleeve up. The skin on her arm beneath was smooth and brown, and completely unmarked. She looked at me steadily. "See?"
"Oh." There was a pause. Then, "How come you work so late?"
"The Professor is a night-owl. And it means I get a lie-in." She yawned. "Speaking of which, you've got school tomorrow. Back to bed."
I walked slowly up the stairs, suddenly feeling exhausted. It only occurred to me as I fell asleep that her sleeve hadn't looked like it had been torn by an old man trying to stem a nose-bleed. There had been three parallel rips along the length of it.
Almost like claw marks.
Chapter 4
The next couple of weeks passed in a blur. Miss Smith was off sick, but in any case I hadn't seen any more shadows around her, or anything weird since the crash. I was relieved. I felt like I was getting back to normal.
Em was smitten with Ed, and the feeling was clearly mutual. Our twosome had suddenly become a threesome. Ed's lean figure became a familiar sight in the mornings as he lounged against the school gates, waiting for us.
"I hear some kids have gone missing," he said one afternoon as we ate lunch in the canteen. He gestured to Em. "Has your Dad said anything to you about it?"
"How did you hear about that?" She looked surprised. "It's not even in the papers yet, they only went missing last night." Ed looked embarrassed.
"My guardian is a bit of a news junkie, he monitors police bands." He looked at Em's raised eyebrows. "What? It's not illegal!"
"Well, you're right. Three kids went missing from the catholic school in the next town."
"Are police connecting it to Andy and Helena? Is there a link between this other town and Mallow Bottom?"
Ed sounded insistent, and I looked at him curiously.
"I thought Andy and Helena had run off together? Do you think they were abducted?"
Ed avoided my eyes and shrugged. "Probably not."
"Still. Scary thought, kids going missing." Em shuddered. "Dad's dealt with some horrible things over the years, but he says it's always worse when it involves children."
"Does he think they've been murdered?" I was fascinated, forgetting Em's dislike for anything gory. She looked down at her tray without answering, and Ed put a hand on her shoulder.
"I'm sure they're fine," he told her. "Missing kids usually turn up eventually."
His expression was tender as he looked at her, and I turned away, hating myself for not being more pleased for my friend.
Em's only worry was he hadn't asked her to the prom yet. She confided her doubts to me later, when we were alone.
"It's only a few weeks away!" she fretted. "Maybe he doesn't want to go out with me!"
"Don't be daft. Anyone can see he's nuts about you."
"Will you ask him for me?"
It was the last thing I wanted to do.
"You ask him. He's probably just forgotten."
"How can he have forgotten? There are posters everywhere!"
"Well, he's a boy. They don't notice things like posters. It’s a genetic defect or something. Anyway, your folks would have a fit."
"Well, maybe I won't tell them."
This made me pause. Em's parents were strict with her, but she had never, in all the time I'd known her, ever kept anything from them. I'd always been a little jealous of how close the three of them were.
"Are you sure?" I asked doubtfully. She ignored the question.
"You get on with him so well. Please, Kaz, just ask him." She looked at me with her big blue eyes, and I sighed.
"Okay. But you owe me one."
I got my chance that afternoon, after our team won an important home match two-nil.
"Nice goal," he said. "You've got a lot of power, for a girl. You almost play like a bloke."
"So do you," I shot back sarcastically. "Almost." He laughed.
"God, you can't take a compliment can you? Just say 'thank you' nicely. Stop being a diva, Deva."
I groaned and slapped my forehead theatrically.
"I've only heard that one, like, a million times!"
He nudged me hard, and I nudged him back.
"Don't start a fight," I said. "Your street cred would never recover from being beaten by a girl."
Almost carelessly, he grabbed me by my T-shirt collar and flipped me over his hip. I lay on the ground, stunned. He grinned down at me.
"Seven years of aikido. I knew it would come in handy."
I scrambled to my feet and tried to swipe him, as he danced, smirking, out of my reach.
"You complete bast...."
We were interrupted by Mr Naylor jogging past us.
"Nice game, you two. Ready for the away match against Banwell?"
Banwell was the comprehensive in the next town, our sworn enemies. Ed nodded enthusiastically.
"We'll annihilate them, Mr N," he promised. We headed for the shower blocks.
"Where's Em?" I asked. Normally she watched us play but she hadn't come to the field today.
"She's in the computer labs," said Ed. "She said something about developing a security hack." He suddenly sounded worried. "I think she mentioned the Ministry of Defence. Should she be doing that?" I laughed.
"She hacks into stuff just to show she can. Don't worry, she never uses her powers for evil."
"She's super-smart, isn't she?"
"Total genius," I agreed.
There was a pause while I tried to wipe the worst of the mud off my boots using the grass verge. I wondered how to broach the subject.
"So, er, have you thought about the prom?" I asked casually.
"What about it?" His voice sounded guarded.
"Well, I don't know how it works in the Middle East, but here when a boy likes a girl, he asks her to the prom," I said sarcastically.
"In the Middle East, we pick four wives and we never, ever go to a prom," he answered gravely.
"Stop avoiding the issue." I straightened up and looked him in the eye. "Do you like Em?"
"Of course I like Em. I like her a lot." He paused. "Too much."
"What does that mean?"
"Nothing. But I can't ask her to the prom."
"I don't understand. Why can't you ask her?" I narrowed my eyes. "You don't fancy someone else, do you?"
"No!" He glared at me, then sighed in exasperation. "Look, I'm not going to the prom, okay? I may not be here that long." I looked at him, stunned.
"You're leaving? You only just got here!" Em would be heart-broken.
"No, I... I don't know. My guardians are talking about moving again."
"Ed! You can't leave!" The thought of not seeing him again was oddly unsettling. "I.. the football team needs you!"
He looked at me steadily from beneath those long lashes.
"What about you? Do you need me?"
I swallowed, suddenly flustered.
"No. You're annoying."
"And you don't fancy the idea of going to prom?" he asked, teasingly. I gave a theatrical shudder.
"Me? In a dress? No way."
He shook his head.
"I'm beginning to see why you're single."
We got to the shower block, with a door at one end for the girls, and the other for the boys. He pulled his football shirt off, using it to wipe the sweat from his neck. I was momentarily distracted by the muscles playing in his chest. He caught me looking, but thankfully misinterpreted my silence.
"Don't worry, I'm not going anywhere just yet," he told me. "I'll be here till the end of term at least."
He turned and went through the door to the boys' changing rooms. I stared after him, and suddenly my focus wasn't on his muscles anymore.
It was on the tattoo etched into the skin of his right shoulder. A shape that looked like a '3' and a broken zero, beneath a curve topped with a dot.
Om. The Sanskrit symbol for spiritual knowledge and the essence of the universe. Or to put it another way, the soul.
And I knew that, because my mother had the exact same tattoo.
◆◆◆
"What did he say?" Em asked breathlessly. We were walking home, and I hesitated. I wasn't quite sure what to say.
"He really likes you," I answered truthfully. "But he's not so keen on the prom."
"Oh." She looked crestfallen for a moment. Then she brightened up. "But he likes me?"
"He adores you." I ignored the little stab in my heart. "But he doesn't know how long he's going to be here so..."
"He's leaving?" She looked at me, aghast. "He can't leave!"
"He doesn't know for sure," I said hastily. "It was just something he mentioned, and he said it wouldn't be anytime soon." I reassured her as much as I could, until we got to the road where she went one way, and I went the other.
I walked towards the council estate, thinking about Ed's tattoo and how it looked identical to Mum's. She'd got hers when she was sixteen. She said she'd had it done to mark her graduation after she’d been adopted, although she rarely spoke about her schooling. Or her adoption.
Was it a common tattoo? Maybe. But while I could understand Mum choosing a Sanskrit symbol, because she was Hindu after all, why would Ed have it?
I only became aware I was being followed when I heard muffled laughter behind me. Something hit me in the back of my head and dropped to the floor. It was an empty banana skin. I looked round and groaned inwardly.
Gobbo and two of his mates. This was all I needed.
Daughter of Kali- Awakening Page 3
