She was the most completely random person I’d met in my whole life. It was quite reassuring to know I couldn’t say anything weirder than her.
Keisha banged her knife and fork together. For a tiny girl, she could really pack her food away. “Hang on…the eighties? Isn’t that when Michael Jackson did Thriller?”
“I love that album!” I said.
Keisha rummaged under the table and passed me a soft round button. “You know what that is, right?”
I shook my head.
“It’s an earphone. Don’t make a thing of it, we’re not allowed phones at the table.”
I pressed it in my ear and heard the creaky door, footsteps and wolf howl that was the start of ‘Thriller’. A smile crept across my face. “You like Michael Jackson?”
“I love him,” Keisha said, her eyes bright.
“Even if he did bleach his face white,” Marsha said.
“He did not. That was a skin condition,” Keisha bit back.
“Well, he’s dead now so we can all forget about him,” Marsha replied.
“He’s dead?”
“As a dodo.”
I handed the earphone thing back to Keisha with an out breath. “How did he die?” I said.
“It was ages ago. I think he was poisoned or something. Whatever.” Marsha stood up with her plate and glass in hand. “I’m done. Shall we go?”
The girls at the next table watched us leave. Actually, I think most people watched us leave, but I was busy thinking about dead pop stars.
“Earth calling Laura!” Marsha nudged me in the ribs.
“What?”
“And we thought Susan was a daydreamer.”
I smiled. “Sorry, been a long day.”
We headed back to the kitchen in Blue House and sat chatting for a while. I was properly tired though and yawned a bit more obviously than I meant to.
Marsha said, “Why don’t we all go to bed? It’s nearly lights-out anyway and I want to TouchTime Yuri.”
I yawned again – I really was tired. “What exactly is TouchTime? You never properly explained.”
“Just your basic hand-holding, hugging, that sort of thing, over the computer. Depends what app you have.”
“You don’t have TouchTime, Marsha. You’re such a liar,” Keisha said, catching up with us. “It’s totally blocked at school.”
“That’s what you think. There are ways around blocks if you know how.” Marsha turned to me. “Hey, you should find me on Connexions and I’ll send you some links to some cool apps.”
I had basically no idea what she was talking about, but I didn’t feel stupid. It felt okay to say, “You’ll have to show me what to do.”
“I will. Tomorrow. See you in the morning. Set your alarm for seven.”
“Oh, I don’t have one.”
“There’s one on your phone.”
“I…”
She shook her head with a smile. “First lesson. Give me your phone.”
“It’s in my room.”
“Of course it is. Come on then.”
Marsha came with me and gave me a quick lesson on what my phone could do. Honestly, it was amazing how much magic was packed into that tiny thing. By the time she left me, I was tired but my head was buzzing. I woke up my slate. John Taylor’s lovely face smiled at me.
“Are you dead too, John Taylor, wet T-shirt king?”
“I don’t understand your question. Do you wish to search for John Taylor in a wet T-shirt?”
I hesitated for a moment… “Erm…yes?”
I spent a bit of time following links to ex-crushes, but it got a bit depressing seeing them old enough to be my grandparents. Or worse, reading about their tragic deaths. And there was a niggling temptation itching at the back of my mind. I could search for Stacey. It scared me what I might find. That picture of me and Alfie on Wikipedia had upset me enough – what if I saw a picture of Mum and Ima’s burned-out car? Or worse? But I shook my head. It was worth the risk.
I got as far as, “Notitia…” when a brilliant bolt of lightning lit up the window of my room. My first thought was how much Alfie hated storms. Goosebumps danced over my skin.
“You gonna let us in, Shem? I’ve got a nice dry place for you and your little doggy. No leaky ceilings. You could be warm and fed within the hour.”
I shivered, ashamed of how my knees trembled.
“You still asleep in there?” The door rattled violently as they tried again. They wouldn’t have to try much harder. The hinges were rusty. I prayed they’d go away. Scrag yipped at the door.
“Come here, Scrag,” I whispered urgently.
“Ah that’s nice,” said whoever it was. “At least your little dog has manners.”
“Go away,” I said through chattering teeth. “I got nothing.”
Whoever it was laughed. “But you do, sunshine, that’s why we’ve been looking for you for so long.”
I wanted to puke. There was something going on here that I didn’t understand. It felt bigger than the vagrancy thing, but I couldn’t work it out. Part of my brain was sifting through all the stories Bert had told me, trying to make sense of who these people were, of what they wanted. Another part of my brain was in full-blown panic. I crawled forward and quietly shoved what I could in my bag. Somehow we were going to have to run for it.
“All right,” said the man. “If you won’t open the door, I’ll have to let myself in.”
Scrag growled, low and menacing. I slung my bag over my back and picked him up, his little body vibrating with the rumble coming from his throat. With a crack, the man kicked the door and it fell from its hinges, scraping my face on its way down. He filled the doorway. I could smell the threat coming off him. Scrag leaped from my arms, straight at him.
“Don’t, Scrag!”
He had already sunk his teeth into the man’s arm. The bloke shook him off. I heard Scrag yelp as he hit the floor but then he must have gone for the man’s ankle, cos the pig yelled a curse and lunged sideways, kicking out and unbalancing as he did. I took my chance, grabbed Scrag and bowled out of the door, running, stumbling through the now smashed-up fence. How had I slept through that? Not sharp enough, Shem – just not sharp enough.
I headed to the back of the housing estate. There were woods a couple of fields away – if I could make it there, we might be safe. A sudden smell of fuel and a loud whooshing noise made me turn round. Flames filled the air. They’d torched my shed.
My home. They’d set fire to my home, my last gift from Bert. My heart squeezed – everything I had left was in there. It was the only bit of safety in my life. Why? Why do that?
I gave myself a shake. I’d already wasted too much time watching my life go up in smoke. Something changed in me – anger pulsed down my arms into my legs. I ran, blundering on until my way was lit by headlights from behind me. Blood pounded in my ears. I could hear the splash of wheels in mud but I didn’t dare look back. We had to hide, but where?
I bombed across the churned-up ground but my shoes were soaked through and claggy with mud and I fell, still clutching Scrag tight to me with my good hand. I landed on my stumpy arm, folding it in half to take the impact. The ground was so wet and soggy it was like landing in a sponge. I struggled back up and fled again, trying to put as much distance between me and the vehicle as possible. It seemed to be working – the noise was getting more and more distant and when I risked a look over my shoulder they’d stopped moving. Maybe they’d got stuck in the mud. I didn’t wait to see if they got out and came after me on foot; I somehow knew they would. I was knackered and soaked to the skin but I kept going.
I made it to the edge of the field, trying to blink the rain away and look about me. I couldn’t see anyone following but it didn’t mean they weren’t. A flash of lightning lit up the posh school on the cliff, then thunder rattled through my chest. Scrag whimpered and started to shiver. The woods suddenly seemed too obvious, so I changed course, pulled my coat round Scrag and aimed for the school, hopin
g there’d be some kind of outbuilding we could hide in.
I almost walked right into the fence. Thick wire, eight-foot high and topped with vicious razors. I didn’t have anything as helpful as wire cutters but I had an old pair of pliers with a snip blade in them. I had to put Scrag down to get them out of my bag. He huddled right up close, his little body trembling. In the dark and wet, I couldn’t find a thing in my bag. My chest started to heave in panic.
“Please, just give me a break. Please.”
Like a miracle, my hand closed on the pliers, but I’d taken so long. If he’d followed me, I wouldn’t have time to cut through a thick fence with a crappy pair of pliers now. The heaving in my chest came out as sobs. I looked behind me and saw a triangle of light scanning the field.
Don’t look up here. Please don’t look up here.
I picked up my stuff – poor Scrag was soaked through – and went further round the fence, hoping I could hide behind the main school building. I stumbled on through the dark and rain, desperate, confused, angry. Scrag shivered in my arms, feeding off my fear. Once we got round the back of the school grounds, I took a last look to see where the torch was before it was out of my sight. It wasn’t coming closer – he didn’t know where I was. I didn’t allow myself to feel any relief. I dropped to my knees, put Scrag down and set to work.
It was hard-going with one hand and a blunt blade. I had to twist the wire upwards to get enough leverage but eventually the first bit pinged free. My hand ached, I was cold and tired, but I kept going. Sometimes though, sometimes, I just wished things could be a little bit less crap.
There was another flash of lightning. Another roll of thunder. From somewhere, I found the strength to work at that fence until we could crawl through. There was the dark outline of a bell tower. Nobody would be in there at this time of night. Maybe it would be open. My stupid, optimistic brain was already imagining the safety ahead. I jogged towards it.
“Come on, Scrag, let’s go get dry.”
My mood sank as I realized Alfie would never need me to comfort him through a storm again. I heard doors opening in the corridor. There were a few giggles outside and then someone knocked.
“Laura, are you okay?”
I opened the door. My would-be rescuer was tiny Keisha.
“Let me in then.”
God, she was bossy. Blunt and bossy. Actually so was Marsha. And Suki. Maybe it was a Whitman’s thing.
Marsha arrived and switched off the light as she came in. “No lights or we can’t see the sky. Your room has the best view in a storm. So glad you’ve got it instead of Drippy Issie.”
They hadn’t come to rescue me. They’d come to enjoy the show.
Keisha whispered, “Issie didn’t like this room because of the drainpipe. She thought someone might climb up it in the night.”
A flash of lightning split the sky, followed by the most enormous crash of thunder. Keisha squealed and grabbed my arm, giggling.
There was another knock at the door and I wondered where the teachers were. Were we allowed to just wander about at night? Suki came in.
“Knew you’d be in here, Marsha,” she said. “Don’t mind, do you, Laura? Your room has the best view—”
“In a storm? Yeah, so I’m discovering.”
We huddled by the window as the room filled with a silvery flash and then plunged back into blackness. The thunderous crack that followed rattled through my chest. It was rapidly succeeded by a huge crash, much, much louder and very close.
“What was that? That wasn’t thunder!” Keisha tried to turn the light on but it was dead. The power was down.
Suki said, “The tower?”
I could feel the excitement flowing from them as they dived for the door. “Come on! This’ll be awesome.”
Girls were spilling out of rooms, light pooling from torches at their feet. Only they weren’t torches – they looked like the phone Miss Lilly had given me. I filed that one for later and followed them to the end of the corridor, where, lit by the glare of a dozen lights, stood Madam Hobbs. She shielded her eyes.
“Back to bed!”
“But, Madam, what was the crash?”
“Was it in your room? Any of you?”
As heads shook, the pools of light from the torches wobbled up the walls.
“We think it was the tower, Madam.”
She turned her stare on each of us in turn. “Then you don’t need to worry about it, do you? The tower won’t be climbing into your beds and bothering you. Back to sleep now, please.”
She softened her voice and said, “Are you okay, Laura? What a storm for your first night away from home!”
The girls filtered back to their rooms and I shut the door to mine. I felt my way to the bed and lay down, thinking of Alfie. Despite the beginnings of contentment in my heart, I’d have given anything to have held him tight and told him everything would be all right.
It broke me to know I’d never hold my little brother again. With a shock, I realized I’d never said goodbye. I didn’t know where he was buried – or Mum and Ima. What kind of a person wouldn’t even think to ask?
The tower, the refuge I’d been heading for, was lit up by a brilliant bolt of lightning, then BOOM…
The whole thing crashed to the ground.
Ten more seconds and we’d have been dust.
I curved my body around Scrag as bits of brick pelted us. Grit filled my mouth, my eyes, my chest. I coughed and spat to get rid of it. Scrag whined and shook in my arms.
Honestly. My life was a joke. If there was any kind of god, he had it in for me.
I was stunned for a minute but the rain kept coming and we needed shelter. I skirted round the collapsed tower as the rubble settled, looking for a shed or something. Anything.
Nothing.
Soon I was trembling as much as Scrag, cold to my bones.
I tried to keep going. To keep looking.
I just…
I was so…
I felt…
Sometimes it was so hard to be me. Maybe I should have given in. Taken up that offer of a roof that didn’t leak, no matter what it cost.
Scrag yipped and wriggled up to lick my face, reminding me he was there. I gave myself a talking-to. At least I had him.
I took another look around. The best bit of shelter was the dark shadow of a hedge on the far side of a field. I headed over to it and crawled in.
I was cold and wet but I was alive and I had the best dog in the world snuggled in my coat.
I said, “Who needs sleep, hey, Scrag?”
But he was already snoring those whiffly snores only a dog can do.
The morning after the storm, Marsha was already in the bathroom, fully dressed and applying a thick coat of mascara when I stumbled bleary-eyed to the loo. I hadn’t slept for thinking about where Alfie was buried. I finally drifted off after I decided to ask Miss Lilly the first chance I got.
“Not good with mornings?” Marsha said.
“After a night like last night?”
“Hardly Enid Blyton, is it? More like Grimms’ fairy tales. Think you can find your own way to breakfast?”
“Yeah, why? Where are you going?”
“Some of us are going to the tower to see what happened last night. Come find us if you like, but don’t tell Madam.”
I held three fingers up in salute and said, “Guide’s honour.”
She crinkled her brow at me. “You say the weirdest things.”
That was true. I’d never even been a Girl Guide.
I was tempted to follow Marsha, to join in, but I also wanted to avoid getting into trouble on my first school day so I went to the ODR to make tea.
Keisha was waiting for me. “I knew Marsha wouldn’t wait for you,” she sighed. “Shall we have breakfast here?”
I let Keisha organize me all the way to our form room. The teacher’s introduction was brief: “Okay, girls, this is Laura. Some of you probably saw her last night as you were wandering the corridors not sl
eeping.”
A ripple of laughter spread through the room.
“She’s one of us now, make her feel like it.”
They nodded at me, and that was it. No snarls, no glares. Nothing. I looked around for Marsha, wanting to share the moment with her, but she wasn’t there.
She wasn’t in our first class either, so Keisha decided to stay with me. She muttered, “Marsha’s so unreliable. I don’t know why they asked her to show you round. She’s always sneaking off.”
“How can she sneak off? Where is there to go?”
“I don’t know, do I? I’m not the one doing the sneaking.”
Marsha reappeared in the ODR at teatime. Keisha nearly bit her head off.
“Where have you been?”
“The health centre, not that it’s any of your business.”
“It’s Laura’s business. You’re meant to be looking after her. She got completely lost this morning and was really upset, weren’t you, Laura?”
“No, I…”
“I can’t help having period pain, can I? Not that you’d know – you probably haven’t started yours yet.”
Keisha looked absolutely furious. Her bunches actually quivered with rage. I couldn’t say I blamed her.
I said, “Hey, look, don’t argue, okay? I’m fine. Everything is fine. Are you feeling all right now, Marsha?”
“Not that anyone cares but, yes, thank you.”
Desperate to steer the conversation in a new direction, I said, “Did you make it to the tower then?”
Marsha nodded. “Do you want to see?”
Before I had a chance to stand up, she pulled out her phone and put it in front of me. Phone. Camera. Torch. Alarm clock. All there, right in your hand. I felt a weird pang of jealousy – the fun we could have had with one of those phones at my school. I literally had to pinch myself under the table. This was my school now. This was my reality. I had one of those phones – thanks to Miss Lilly.
I looked at the picture. The entire quad of grass was filled with rubble. Where the tower had fallen it had ripped great chunks of masonry from the surrounding walls.
Beauty Sleep Page 13
