Someone taps me on the shoulder, and I jump, remembering I’m at work. I feel bad. But I also need to quickly finish what I’m saying to Raheela. So I ignore them for a minute.
‘I don’t know!’ I’m suddenly feeling very emotional. ‘But I just want to be normal. I don’t want to be the girl whose brother’s gone any more! I want to do something for me. Can you help me out? Cover for me while I see him? Tomorrow maybe?’
Raheela shakes her head. ‘I’m sorry.’
‘Please?’ I beg. ‘It’s the only way …’
‘We could both get into so much trouble!’ Raheela goes on. ‘You know what my mum’s like – worse than yours.’
Something inside me snaps. Why has she come here to tell me she cares when she clearly doesn’t? ‘Fine!’ I shout. ‘FUCK OFF.’
‘I’m sorry!’ Raheela says, her voice raised too. She’s peering over my shoulder now; she looks really uncomfortable. ‘But I can’t get involved in all this!’
There’s another tap on my shoulder. I swing round. ‘WHAT?’ I shout in the woman’s face. Can’t she queue up by the till like normal people?
My boss, Rosie, glowers back at me, her blue eyes wide. She’s sucking her lip, like she does when she’s angry. I cover my mouth. My breath stalls somewhere in my throat as I stare at her pale, freckly face.
‘A word,’ she says, through gritted teeth.
I tune back into the cafe. People are staring at me. There’s a massive queue at the counter. A woman is helping herself to one of the pastries that only I’m supposed to give out. Oh God. It’s chaos. I glance back at Raheela, hoping she might share some of my embarrassment, make it a bit easier, but she’s gone. Typical.
‘I’m sorry, Rosie,’ I say, calming down. I don’t know what just happened. I totally freaked out. I breathe in deeply. ‘I’ll get back to serving. I’ve got all this under control. You don’t need to worry, I promise.’
I seem to be always making promises I can’t keep lately. But at least I intend to try with this one.
She shakes her head and her blonde curls bounce round her shoulders. ‘Dominic can sort this out,’ she says, waving him over as he comes back in from his break. She sucks her lip again. ‘You come with me. We need to talk.’
Rosie ushers me into a room I’ve never been in before. It looks like an unused office, all clean and white: empty white desk; a few white chairs; bright white walls. Something about all the white makes me feel uneasy. Like there’s nowhere to hide. I cross my arms over all the stains on my T-shirt as I sink sulkily on to one of the chairs. ‘She started it,’ I say. ‘It really wasn’t my fault.’
Rosie sits down opposite me. She crosses her legs. ‘Neena,’ she says, her voice soft but firm, in that way she has. ‘I gave you this job as a favour to your brother. You know that. And you know how much we all loved him and his work.’
I look down at my lap. Pick some hot chocolate powder off my black trousers. ‘I know,’ I say. ‘I’m sorry. I’ll try harder.’
She clears her throat. ‘Why don’t you … take some time off. Have a rest. It might help you feel … better.’
I look back up at her. She has that horrible pitying look on her face. Oh God, no, not her. Those eyes.
‘I’m fine,’ I tell her. ‘It was just … That stuff, it … it goes back years …’ I lie. ‘It’s nothing to do with anything.’
She nods but her lips stay stiff. Then she breathes in deeply and runs her fingers through her curls. ‘Think of it as us letting you have a break. You’ll be sixteen soon. You can reapply for your position then.’
I stare at her unsmiling face. Oh. I get it. She’s just like everyone else. All this bullshit about loving Akash and wanting to help me – but actually she’s ready to move on.
‘You’re sacking me?’ I ask, just to be sure.
‘Like I said, you can reapply officially. And listen …’ She leans forward and touches my arm. ‘I know how much you love the galleries, Neena. You can come in any time. Don’t feel –’
‘You’re sacking me!’ I say again, as it sinks in. I came here with Akash when I was a kid. It was our special thing. Dad would drop us by the door and Akash would take me round the exhibitions: ‘Look at the colours in this one, Neens!’ We’d make up stories to go with the paintings. Afterwards, we’d always sip hot chocolate with cream at the cafe.
This place brought out the best version of him.
I don’t want to leave.
Everything about Akash seems to be slipping away.
But Rosie squeezes my arm, and I realize she wants me to leave right now. ‘I’m sorry, Neena …’ She stands up.
I stand too. My legs are wobbly. Rosie opens the door and I walk out with her. She smiles a proper smile now, like the Rosie I know, the Rosie Akash knew. ‘Come back and see us, OK?’ she says.
Suddenly I’m angry. With absolutely everything. With Rosie, and Raheela, with Mum and Dad, and with Jay. With the whole goddamn world.
‘Forget it,’ I say, giving her a hard, cold look. ‘Just forget it.’
I storm through the rush of people coming out from an exhibition, past the busy cafe and out of the double doors. Then I’m outside, and I’m on my own. Again. I try not to think about how much I’ll miss this place. Or how much I miss Akash. I concentrate on breathing.
Everyone pretends they care, but they all push me away.
Ever since everything happened, everyone just pushes and pushes.
As I walk through the centre of town, heading towards the bus stop, I realize how much trouble I’m going to be in with Dad. I can just hear him now. Sacked? His face incredulous. And what have you done now, Neena? What will I say? What can I tell him? No, I can’t tell him I got sacked. But I have to tell Mum and Dad something: they aren’t expecting me home for hours. Maybe I could tell them I’ve quit to focus on exam revision? Yes, that’s a brilliant idea. It’ll keep me in Dad’s good books.
But then, as I hover in the middle of a busy street in town, I have an even better idea. What if I don’t go home? Instead, I could go to see Josh. Mum and Dad will never know. I could see him every Sunday afternoon when they think I’m working. I will be a brilliant girlfriend – he keeps saying he wants to see me more often out of school. And I can make up for the kiss with Jay.
I message Josh to see if he’s home. He replies immediately, telling me to come over.
A small fire starts to burn in my belly as I get on the bus. I squeeze on to a seat next to an old lady and take a deep breath. Maybe I’m not jinxed after all. Maybe I was supposed to lose my job.
Could this … could Akash be helping me? This is exactly the sort of thing he would do. I message Fi to tell her – she’ll be proud too.
She replies straight away.
Good girl! Come see me too!
I will! I’m freeeee!
I do worry as I get off the bus and walk down the road to Josh’s: I can’t help it. My throat and chest go tight. I mean, I’m walking to Josh’s house in broad daylight when I should be at the art centre. But I concentrate on inhaling and exhaling and I keep an eye out for signs of anyone I know, and it calms me. The street is completely deserted and the better thought that I’m holding on to takes over again: I’m going to make everything up to Josh.
Then I’m standing on his doorstep. I reach up and press the bell and watch the sky-blue door until it opens. Josh grins at me. He’s wearing shorts and a T-shirt. I wrap my arms round his neck. He smells of soap and apples. All clean and crisp and fresh.
‘I came straight from work,’ I say, suddenly aware that I must look a mess.
He looks down at my clothes and laughs. ‘Yeah, I see you’ve made an effort for me!’
I feel awkward, and he must see it in my face because he adds: ‘I’m just teasing you!’
I force myself to laugh too.
‘Come on in,’ he says. ‘My mum’s out.’ And he holds my eyes with his until my stomach feels tickly inside. My heart beats fast. He takes my hand, pressing
my fingers against his warm palm.
Inside, the house smells of cinnamon and vanilla. Instead of curtains, frilly lace covers the windows. Coloured wooden beads sway in the doorways rather than actual doors. Josh leaves to get us some drinks and my hands shake as I look around the living room: I’m suddenly very nervous. Above the fireplace there’s a beautiful painting of a single boat at sea by moonlight. My heart skips a beat. I want to look at it properly, take it in, but I can’t focus.
Josh returns with two hot chocolates. ‘Shall we go up to my room?’ he asks.
I nod. I don’t trust myself to talk. Klaxons and alarm bells are going off in my head left, right and centre – this is literally the exact opposite of everything my parents have ever told me to do. I try to shut them out.
Josh glides ahead of me, like this is no big deal. As I follow him up the stairs, I spill hot chocolate on my white T-shirt and quickly rub it in. Not that it’ll make a difference along with all the other stains.
But I need to pull myself together.
Fi would waltz on ahead, leading the way. She never seems to get nervous. Cool and calm, that’s what I want to be. Like Fi. Like Akash. My brother was the coolest and calmest. I count backwards from ten to calm myself, like Akash taught me to do as a kid.
We get to a doorway and Josh parts wooden beads to let me into his bedroom. Once we’re in, they clatter behind us like musical notes. It feels weird not to have a proper door for privacy, but there’s something reassuring about it too. Makes it feel less official, I guess. We are alone, but I could easily leave the room if I wanted. Not that I want to. I don’t.
I look around the room. Light blue walls. Normal blue curtains in here. The smell of zesty aftershave. Schoolbooks on a shelf. Astronomy books on another shelf. A telescope by the window, pointing towards the sky. It’s cosy. Very Josh.
He sits on his bed and messes around with his phone, flicking through different songs until he settles on one I don’t recognize. Some old guy singing and playing a guitar. Mellow. I put my hot chocolate on the floor and sit on the edge of the bed next to him. All I can think is –
Oh. My. God. I’m in Josh’s bedroom. Sitting on his bed.
I can’t mess this up, but my mouth’s so dry. I pick up the hot chocolate and drink a bit. No alcohol in this one. Suddenly I’m thinking about Jay. I feel sick.
‘What’s wrong?’ Josh says.
I must have zoned out. I look at his bright, kind face. I cheated on you, I want to tell him; I want to spill it all out so that it stops taunting me. But that’s selfish, and I can’t hurt him like that. I can’t ruin everything between us. Instead, I say: ‘I can’t stop thinking about Akash.’ And I realize it’s true. I am thinking about Jay, but I’m also thinking about Akash, wondering if he sat on that mattress next to Jay, wondering what else Jay knows about him that I don’t, and if he ever had one of those purple drinks and drank it too fast.
Did Mum and Dad know that he smoked weed? Is that why Dad was always so angry with him?
Josh fiddles with the string bracelets round his wrist. ‘You want to … you know … talk?’
I shake my head. Once upon a time, I would’ve talked to Josh. But what I want right now is to kiss him and forget about everything else.
I slip off my shoes and lie down on the bed. Josh kicks off his shoes too. Lies next to me. His fingers comb through my hair and massage my scalp. My whole body relaxes. His lips touch mine. Lightly. Dry bits of skin brushing mine. My face tingles. Then he kisses me harder, and I kiss him back.
And then we’re kissing like there’s no tomorrow. Our hands all over each other. And this is what I want, this feeling of being alive. If this is what I’m going to be doing instead of serving coffees, then I think I know which the winner is! Rosie can go to hell.
Mum and Dad’s faces drift into my head, but I push them out. I’m not going to let guilt ruin this; it feels too good.
I’m shocked to find myself climbing on top of Josh. His hands slide just under my T-shirt and lift it off. It’s all happening really fast, but I feel better without my T-shirt and all its stains. Lighter. Sexier. I’m wearing a pretty purple bra that makes my boobs look bigger than they are. I feel a bit pleased with myself.
Josh pulls his T-shirt off too, and I admire the muscles in his neck as his hands trace along my hipbone and then up, up, until suddenly they’re cupping my breasts. Then they move round to my back and I realize he’s trying to take my bra off. It shouldn’t really come as such a shock: what did I think was going to happen after he took off my top? But my chest tightens. My body freezes up.
Josh freezes too. I search for words, try to express what I’m feeling. I want this. Don’t I?
‘I’m sorry,’ I mumble. ‘I …’
Josh looks unbearably hurt, but worried too. ‘What’s wrong? Was I … too rough?’
‘No, no! Not that!’
‘Don’t you want to?’
‘I do. I think! I don’t know …’
My heart’s racing. I want him to like me. Want me. And I like him. Want him too. I thought I might be ready, but maybe I’m not. You can’t just go from nought to sixty when it comes to boys, it seems.
I lie down next to Josh. ‘I’m sorry,’ I say again.
‘Shhh.’ Josh kisses my forehead. He’s breathing fast. ‘It’s my fault. I just … you know, like you so much – I got carried away.’ He grins at me sheepishly, this crooked smile that somehow makes everything better by cutting through the tension.
We lie there for a while, catching our breaths. The silence is soothing. Then Josh props himself up on his elbow and looks at me seriously.
‘I’ve never really spoken to anyone about my dad,’ he says. ‘But it helped, taking you to the graveyard.’ He takes my hand and intertwines his fingers with mine. ‘You can talk to me, Neens. I shared my … my pain – you can share yours too.’
A lump swells in my throat. I swallow it down. ‘What is this, Pain Club?’ I say, trying to sound jokey. But it comes out with an edge. I laugh to cover it up. But Josh doesn’t laugh.
‘It can be whatever we want,’ he says seriously.
The memories of the weeks after Akash disappeared come rising up inside me. I want to tell Josh all about it, every single detail, but I’m scared too, worried that if I start talking I won’t ever stop feeling all this pain. I tug my hand away from his. Feel a surge of anger towards him. For asking. For caring.
‘There were weeks when I couldn’t get out of bed,’ I snap at him. ‘Is that what you want to know?’
He looks hurt but I can’t stop.
‘I didn’t want to continue living. My body didn’t know how. I couldn’t move. Could barely breathe. Is that what you want to hear?’
Josh touches my arm. ‘No, no. I just meant if you … you know, wanted. I thought it would help …’ And then he touches my face, and it’s so tender that all my anger towards him fades. It’s not him I’m angry with. Of course I know that. I close my eyes.
‘It’s all a blur …’ I try to explain.
‘It’s OK, Neens. You don’t have to –’
I open my eyes. ‘No, I do want to.’ The smell of those days comes back to me. The sharp stink of my unwashed bedsheets. But I don’t tell him all that. ‘I felt numb for ages. Blocked off from the rest of the world. And then one day I couldn’t do it any more. I knew it wasn’t what he’d want, you know? He wanted me to be happy. So I got up, got dressed and went to school. Promised myself I would live my life.’
There’s so much kindness in Josh’s face that I know he understands.
I smile. ‘So the let’s-talk-about-our-pain-and-then-forget-it club?’ I say.
‘Yeah. Only it’s not so easy … Forgetting … Is it?’
‘No.’ Now that I’m talking, I don’t want to stop. ‘And, if I’m honest, I still don’t believe my brother’s actually gone.’ It suddenly feels so easy to talk about all this. Or at least talk to Josh anyway. ‘I keep waiting for him to come back. I even th
ink I’ve seen him a few times.’
Josh nods enthusiastically. ‘I know what you mean. For ages, I’d think I’d seen Dad crossing the road. Or I’d walk into the dining room, expecting him to be sitting at the table with a coffee in one hand and a newspaper in the other … It always felt so real. Like they could come back any minute.’
‘Yes! Exactly!’ I feel a huge surge of love towards Josh. He gets it. He’s the only one who understands.
My stomach bubbles with the excitement of it all. Because Akash was in my room, wasn’t he? He drank whisky. Hid the bottle under my bed. Finished my paintings. I smelled him at the Ridgeway. And I’m not the only one who believes he’s coming back!
Josh puts his arm round me and pulls me close. ‘Oh, Neens,’ he says.
We sit in silence for a few minutes and I allow myself to think about Jay. He knows something and Fi promised me she’s going to find out what it is. I’m feeling more optimistic than ever now. If anyone can do it, it’s Fi.
Then Josh seems suddenly excited. ‘We should do something nice,’ he says, kissing my forehead. ‘I’ll take you out. Cinema and dinner. Cheer you up.’
I look at him and shake my head. I’m the worst girlfriend in the world again. ‘I can’t,’ I say. ‘You know I can’t …’
He shakes his head too. ‘Of course. No. But not even if we’re really careful?’
‘I’m sorry, Josh.’
‘No, don’t be sorry. I just want you to be happy.’
I smile at him. ‘I am happy,’ I say. ‘I’m happy when I’m with you.’
He pulls me close again. Our skin sticks together from heat and sweat, but he doesn’t let go. I look up at him, wanting to kiss him again. And he presses his lips against mine.
I’m running. I feel like I’m flying. I’m late. The heat is stifling and the worry is taking over: I’ve got ten minutes to get home from the end of ‘work’. I’m kicking myself: how could I lose track of the time like that? But I need to calm down. Keep focused. There’s a heatwave, that’s why I’m sweating so much, I tell myself. Not because I’m late. Not because I got sacked. Not because I went to Josh’s house. No, nothing to do with any of that.
The Million Pieces of Neena Gill Page 10
