by Graham West
He noticed a young woman standing nearby, watching them play. “Is that your daughter?” Peter asked, pointing.
“Yeah, is he yours? The blonde one?”
Peter nodded.
“Oh my word, he’s cute,” she cooed.
“Don’t be fooled,” Peter replied with a grin.
The woman laughed. “Don’t worry, they all have their moments.” She looked at the empty chair. “Do you mind if I sit here with you?”
Peter didn’t mind at all. He could do with some company.
“My name’s Nicola Rosales, but call me Nicky,” she said. “And that little madam over there is Bailey.”
Peter reckoned the woman was in her early thirties. She had strawberry-blonde hair tied back into a bun.
“Well, I’m Peter, and that’s Cody.” He glanced over at his son, who was busy negotiating a small climbing frame.
“How old is Cody?”
“Seven—going on seventeen. How old is Bailey?”
“Believe it or not, she’s thirteen. I know, she doesn’t look it. Doesn’t act it either, to be honest.”
Peter would have put the girl at about eleven. She definitely didn’t look like a teenager. “They all grow up eventually,” he replied with a roll of the eyes.
Nicky looked like she needed a shoulder. “Cody seems such an angel. You’re very lucky.”
It was obvious she was having problems with her flame-haired teen. He smiled sympathetically. “I think all kids have their good and bad points.”
“Yeah, but Bailey’s bad points are getting to be a problem. She doesn’t have many friends.”
Peter’s ears pricked up. “Really? Why?”
Nicky exhaled, long and loud. “Bailey tells lies. I know I shouldn’t be telling you this—I don’t even know you—but sometimes I just need someone to talk to. You know, another parent?”
Peter was about to open his mouth, but Nicky wasn’t finished. “The thing is, she’s really bad at it. Lying, I mean. It gets embarrassing.”
“What kind of things does she lie about? Is it important stuff?”
“It’s everything, to be honest. Take the other day, for example. She didn’t want to go to her friend’s party, one of the few she actually had, but instead of letting her know, she just didn’t turn up. Anyway, this friend called around on her bike the next day and asked her why. So Bailey told her she fell off her bike and banged her head. That would have been okay, but the whole neighbourhood knew her bike had been stolen two days before.”
Peter wanted to laugh but managed to keep a straight face. “What happened?”
“It gets worse. This girl just assumed that Bailey found her bike and suggested they go for a ride. And what does Bailey do? Goes to the garage, cool as anything, and opens the door. Of course, there’s nothing there! My daughter didn’t even pretend to be concerned. She just shrugged and said, ‘Oh, look, they must have stolen it again!’”
This time, Peter did laugh. “I’m sorry. It’s just so funny!”
Nicky started to giggle too. “I know, but at the same time, it isn’t. She does stuff like that all the time. Stupid lies. But she does other things too.”
“What things?”
Nicky’s smile was almost imperceptible. “Oh, just things.”
Peter looked across at his son. “I wish Cody would lie sometimes. He has the opposite problem. He can’t—and believe me, that ain’t so good for a kid like him.”
“I’d rather have that predicament,” Nicky said.
Peter shook his head. “He hasn’t got any friends either. He says exactly what he thinks and ends up upsetting everyone.”
“So I take it he’s pretty bright?”
“Why do you say that?”
“Well, I always think that kids who struggle usually look up to their classmates. They wish they were like them. Kids who are bright think everyone around them is stupid.”
Peter nodded. “He doesn’t struggle, but I wouldn’t say he shines. He just doesn’t seem to like other kids. I’m surprised he hasn’t upset your Bailey yet. This is a record for him.”
Nicky laughed. “Maybe opposites really do attract.”
Just then, Bailey ran over, wanting to know if she could go to the pool with Cody later.
“That’s not a problem, sweetheart,” Nicky said before turning to Peter. “Would that be okay with you?”
“Sure, it’s their holiday.”
Cody followed Bailey, arriving with a glint in his eyes. Hey, Dad! I’m doing real good! Peter knew what his son was thinking and ruffled his hair. “How about we go back and get some lunch?”
Bailey high-fived her mother. “Can we get some lunch too?”
“Yeah, sure. What would you like?”
“Can we have a burger?”
Nicky stood and tapped Peter’s shoulder. “See you around two?” she said.
Cody grinned at her. “Are you coming too—with Dad?”
If the question had come from an older child, it might have carried an element of suspicion, but Bailey’s mum just nodded and gave him the thumbs up. “See you later, sweetheart.”
As they headed back towards the lodge, Peter noticed there was a skip in Cody’s step that he hadn’t seen for some time.
Cody took Peter’s hand, another thing he rarely did. “Bailey’s cool. Don’t you think?”
“Yeah, she’s cool.”
“Dad?”
“What?”
“Do you think she’s pretty?”
“I suppose so. Do you?”
“Yeah, she is.” Cody paused for a moment. “Dad?”
“What, pal?”
“I think I love her. Can we get married?”
Peter laughed. “I think you’re a bit too young.”
“But that’s not fair. Ladies can marry each other, and so can men. I saw it on the telly. So why can’t kids? That’s dis-u-pred.”
“Don’t you mean prejudiced?”
Cody didn’t answer. He’d spotted a squirrel, and for the moment, Bailey Rosales was forgotten.
***
Laura was having a chill day and promised to be up and about tomorrow. She was ten chapters into her crime novel and was hoping to finish it by bedtime, so Peter Nelson ended up flying down the water slide with Cody wedged between his legs.
“Dad, that was cool! Can we do it again?” But then Cody saw Bailey and her mother, standing at the edge of the pool in matching swimsuits, and forgot all about the slide.
***
It took an hour to coax their offspring out of the water, promising another visit to the soft-play area as a bribe. They arrived to find it teaming with overactive children, although Bailey didn’t seem to care that she was the only teenager in the place. Peter wondered if a pair of earplugs might have been a good idea, but it was good just to sit down at the multicoloured tables in a room that resembled a kaleidoscope. He bought Nicky a coffee, and they sat together, looking for all the world like a married couple.
***
Cody hadn’t said too much about Bailey to his mother. He preferred to talk to his dad about girls. It was man stuff. Okay, he kind of knew that he would have to wait a while before he could marry Bailey, but he didn’t mind. She was different. Not like the girls in his class, who could be really annoying sometimes.
“How old are you?” he asked, figuring it was time he should find out.
Bailey grinned. “How old do you think I am?” She stood as tall as she could manage.
Cody studied her for a moment. “Erm…about eleven?”
Bailey’s face turned to thunder. “I’m thirteen!” she screeched. “I’m a young woman! I could have a baby if I wanted!”
That came as a shock to Cody. “No, you couldn’t. Only mums have babies!”
Bailey rolled her eyes in disgust. “Don’t be so stupid. A girl can have a baby as soon as she reaches puberty.”
“What’s puberty?” Cody asked.
“It’s when you grow hair.”
“But haven’t you always had hair?”
“Not on your head, stupid. On your body.”
Cody was confused. “Whereabouts?”
“Shall I show you?”
Bailey gripped the elastic waistband of her tracksuit bottoms just as her mother happened to glance over.
“BAILEY! NO!”
But it was too late. Everyone stared at the ginger-haired girl as she yanked down her trousers, along with her knickers, in one swift movement, proudly displaying the fact that she had indeed reached puberty.
Cody stood with his mouth hanging open as Bailey’s mother dragged her back across the floor, pulling up her tracksuit bottoms as she went, while anxious parents seemed to appear from nowhere, ushering their children away as if an incendiary device had been discovered in the middle of the floor. Nicky pushed her daughter backwards into the chair. “You stupid, stupid girl!” she yelled. “What possessed you to do that? In front of everyone!”
Cody watched as Bailey pulled away, fighting back the tears. Nicky turned towards his father, her eyes blazing. “In case you haven’t guessed already, that’s one of the other things she does!”
Chapter Ten
Peter sat outside the lodge with a cold beer and a packet of cigarettes perched on a rustic wooden table. Watching his wife and son through the open window, he drew long and hard before exhaling. The wisps of smoke rose gracefully into the evening air, creating translucent patterns against the backdrop of green. Cigarettes and alcohol. If his memory served correctly, Oasis had written a song about it.
Cody sat at the dining table with his sketchpad and a set of coloured pencils, concentrating so hard that he hadn’t noticed his mother standing over him.
“Who’s that?” she asked casually.
Cody didn’t look up. “It’s Bailey.”
“Who’s Bailey?”
“My girlfriend.”
“You’ve got a girlfriend? That’s nice.” Laura leaned forward, screwing up her eyes. “And what’s that?”
“What?”
“That!” Laura tapped the picture.
“That’s her public hair.”
Laura slid her reading glasses down off her forehead. “What do you mean, public?”
“She showed me her public hair!”
“What? Why?”
“Cos I said she was only eleven and she got cross and said she was thirteen and could have a baby if she wanted. She said if you have public hair then it means you can have a baby.”
“And she pulled her pants down to show you?”
Cody nodded, his head just inches from the page.
“And where was your dad at the time?”
“He was with his new girlfriend.”
“His new girlfriend? Who’s his new girlfriend?”
“Bailey’s mum. She’s called Nicky.”
Peter thought it might be best to sit tight for a while. His wife didn’t sound too perturbed at the moment, but all that could change quite quickly.
“So what did Bailey’s mum do when she pulled her pants down?”
Cody picked up another coloured pencil. “She went crazy and dragged Bailey away and called her a stupid girl!”
“Well, it was a stupid thing to do. And very rude, too!”
“I know.”
“And was Bailey’s dad there?”
“Nope, he’s gone.”
“Gone? You mean he doesn’t live at home anymore?”
“No.”
“Oh, right. Why’s that, then?”
“Because he’s a fucking gobshite!”
“Cody!”
“What? I didn’t say that. Bailey did!”
“Well, that’s sad, but you shouldn’t use those words.”
“It doesn’t matter. Bailey’s mum likes Dad now.”
“Oh, does she? Did Bailey tell you that?”
“Nope, but I can tell. They sit there laughing.”
“Really? Was this at the play centre?”
Cody was still engrossed in his drawing. “No. He was with her at the pool, too.”
“And is Bailey’s mum pretty?”
“A bit.”
“But not as pretty as Mummy, huh?”
Cody didn’t answer.
“I see. So you think she’s prettier?”
“Nope, but I don’t think she’d shout as much as you do.”
“Is that right? So you’d like her to be your mum instead?”
Cody huffed. “No, of course not. I could have two mums. And I’d get to live with Bailey until we got married!”
“Married?”
“Yep. I’m going to marry her when I get older.”
“Does Bailey know this?”
“No, I haven’t mentioned it yet.”
Laura slid her glasses back up onto her forehead. “Well, I wouldn’t mention it just yet, if I were you.”
Cody grinned, looking up at his mother for the first time. “Okay. But are you going to ask Dad about Bailey’s mum?”
Laura glanced out of the window, making eye contact with Peter, and patted their son’s head. “I might just mention her, yes.” She started to walk away but then stopped and turned back. “Could you do me a favour, Dee?”
“What?”
“Draw some pants on that girl?”
***
Laura took a sip from her glass of chilled white wine. “So, when are you and Cody going to bring your girlfriends home, then?”
Peter grinned boyishly. He knew when his wife was playing games.
“I’d certainly like to meet this Bailey girl—the one with the very public hair!”
Peter laughed. “That’s if her mum hasn’t throttled her.” he said. “I’d ground Cody for a month if he pulled a stunt like that.”
Laura shook her head. “That’s something he’d never do. He doesn’t even like getting undressed in front of me.”
“I think Bailey has problems.” Peter lowered his voice. The TV was loud, but he wasn’t going to risk being overheard. “Apparently, she hates people thinking she’s a kid, even though she looks and acts like one.”
“So she drops her pants every time someone guesses her age wrong?”
“Well, it’s happened before—on more than one occasion. But she tells lies as well—stupid lies—all the time.”
“Is she getting any kind of help?”
“Recently, yes. Nicky’s ex wouldn’t allow it while he was at home. Apparently, he thought therapy was all mumbo jumbo.”
Laura shook her head in disgust.
Peter took another lengthy draw on his cigarette. “I don’t think he wanted a girl anyway. He wasn’t interested. Maybe that’s what screwed her up.”
Laura watched him stub out the butt in the copper ashtray. “So who can we blame for Cody?”
“What?”
“The way he’s turned out.”
Peter lit another cigarette. “It’s no one’s fault. I think we’ve been good parents. Not perfect, but then who is?”
“Well, he seems happy here. Let’s just make the most of it.”
By making the most of it, she meant opening another bottle of wine. She was usually too busy making work for herself, worrying about Cody and the school, grieving for her sister and beating herself up for not having detected the tumour in Alison’s brain as if she were one of those cancer-sniffing dogs. But the chill-out day with a book had relaxed her, and Peter would get to spend a night with the old Laura—the one he’d married fifteen years ago. Cody was ready for bed at nine, mainly because he wanted to try out the bunk bed, and fell asleep before Peter had finished the first chapter of his nighttime story book.
Even though the temperature in the wood was several degrees lower, it was still warm enough to sit on the balcony. Laura put a lasagne in the oven and brought out a beer and another large glass of white wine. When the sun went down, they ate by candlelight and talked about the past—the holidays they’d taken, swimming with dolphins in Florida and snorkelling in the crystal-clear waters of the
Great Barrier Reef.
They’d made a habit of late nights in those days—the days before Cody came along. It was never quite the same after that. Laura was in bed by ten, the drinking stopped, and sometimes Peter wondered if Cody had sucked all the fun out of their marriage. Laura didn’t see it that way, of course. She was a brilliant mother, and Peter couldn’t help but admire her, while also hoping she’d lighten up one day. He wished they could sit out like this more often, chatting, laughing and getting drunk on beer and cheap white wine.
It was one in the morning before they turned in. The temperature had dropped and Cody would no doubt be up early and wanting his breakfast before setting off to meet Bailey at the pool. A major hangover would screw up their whole day.
Laura put the two empty wine bottles in a bin bag and went through to the bathroom. “Can you check on him, love, make sure he’s okay?”
Peter stumbled into Cody’s bedroom. The window was wide open. The kid had probably been too hot. He closed it and leaned over the bed. “Goodnight, pal. Busy day tomorrow.” When he pulled back the duvet, there was no one beneath—nothing but a pillow. Peter Nelson froze. His boy had gone.
Chapter Eleven
Cody Nelson flicked on his penlight, illuminating the mass of tangled roots and shrubs ahead. He had passed the sign that told him he wasn’t supposed to be here; if it hadn’t been for the voice inside his head, he’d never have left his bed anyway. There were no paths, no lights and no lodges. Just the sound of his own feet treading the bracken as he made his way through the undergrowth.
It had been easy enough to open the bedroom window and climb out, following the instructions that drew him further and further into the woods. The penlight had been a birthday present and was powerful enough to light up half of the wood. He stopped for a second, narrowing the beam with a twist. There was a sound—a rustling—but it was okay, because there were no lions in England. No tigers, either. So it was probably just a rat or a squirrel. Maybe an owl. Owls and squirrels were his favourites. He flashed his light around the trees, looking at the branches overhead—but there was no movement. He moved forward, deeper into the darkness, until he reached a clearing.
“Where am I?” he whispered.
You’re here. It was a man’s voice, as clear as if he were standing at his shoulder. Cody shone his torch directly ahead, and there, across the other side of a clearing, nestled between the trees, was a cottage. He tiptoed slowly towards it; there was a light flickering in the window. Creepers grew along the crumbling walls, snaking under the roof, lifting the slates that were now barely visible. It was the smallest house he’d ever seen, almost like the kind of place a doll would live.
