‘What are you going to do, Toby?’ Louis asks.
It comes to me in a flash. It’s stupid and childish and brilliant.
‘Come on,’ I say.
They glance at each other and shrug and then are on their feet.
Louis grins. ‘We going to get even?’
‘I don’t think we should—’ Will picks at his fingernails.
‘What, we should keep on letting them wreck your stuff?’
‘I don’t have any more stuff.’ He says it plaintively, and as he does the truth of what Dorm 7 have done sinks in. His small face hardens. ‘They broke my stuff.’
‘Then let’s go.’
I take them to our dorm where we get our water cups and fill them from the bathroom, right to the brim.
‘What are we doing?’ Will whispers. I don’t know why he’s whispering. No one’s around to hear us.
‘Wait and see.’ We hold the cups carefully and head towards Dorm 7. I can’t hear the music room from here and the house is still as I lead the way. My heart races. I feel good. I should have done this days ago.
‘Careful, dumbass.’ Louis giggles behind me. ‘You nearly spilled that all over me.’
‘Sorry,’ Will whispers. ‘I’ve got pins and needles in my leg. Must have sat on it funny.’
‘Quickly,’ I say, opening the door. The four beds are neatly made and the dorm is tidy, just how Matron likes it. We all lead double lives here. The one where we do all we can to be invisible to Matron and the one where we try to be ourselves. Ever since Henry, Jake’s stopped playing to the crowd in front of Matron.
I pull back Jake’s blankets and top sheet and pour the water right in the middle of the mattress. Will gasps.
‘Oh, shit.’ Louis is breathless.
‘Do theirs,’ I say. ‘Quickly. Then make the beds tidy again.’ I’m already stretching the top sheet down on Jake’s, folding the end nice and even over the blanket and tucking in one side, just like we’ve learned to do every morning. ‘They won’t know until they get into bed, and then what can they do? Complain?’ I know they won’t. They’ll have to live with the damp until the next laundry day. If the nurses think we’re fighting they’ll sedate us more heavily – or worse. Me and Clara might have to be careful tonight, though. I don’t know how strong the sleeping pills are. Maybe Dorm 7 will be restless.
‘Oh, man, they’re going to hate us,’ Louis says, but he’s laughing.
By the time we come back downstairs, we’re all feeling good, snickering and whispering and buzzing about what we’ve done. As we pass the music room, Will’s grin is so wide I think his face is going to split. ‘Dorm Four totally rule,’ he says. It feels like we’re back at school.
‘Just try and act normal,’ I say. ‘We don’t want them sussing anything’s up until bedtime.’
‘They’re going to freak.’ Louis is almost jumping up and down. I don’t think he’s ever done anything like this in his serious, studied life. I don’t imagine there were a lot of Jakes in Louis’ before.
‘Yeah, they will. But let’s worry about that later.’
‘I’m not worried.’ Will’s chest is puffed up. ‘It will be worth it.’
I grin then, buoyed by their excitement. ‘Yeah, it will.’ Jake can bring it, for all I care. I no longer give a fuck. He shouldn’t have messed with Louis and Will’s things. End of.
Louis and Will head into the art room where Ashley and Harriet are making a fresh batch of posters only the converted few will read and enthusiastically start hunting for stuff to make their new chessboard. I go to the playroom to find some cards. When I get back upstairs, Clara has fallen asleep on her bed. I watch her for a while, surprised at how content I feel, and then go to my own dorm. I could use a nap, too. My bed is warm and dry. I can’t wait to tell Clara what we’ve done.
The Dorm 7 boys do sleep through the night, but when Clara and me, almost crying with laughter, look in from the doorway, they’re all curled up on top of their covers, arms hugging their knees to try and keep in whatever warmth they have. Daniel’s fat arse hangs half-out of his pyjama bottoms.
‘I’d like to find a flower and stick it between those fat cheeks,’ Clara whispers.
I almost feel sorry for the four of them, and then I remember the smashed chess pieces and Will’s face and the fact Jake called Clara a slut. Joe might be being punished for something he hasn’t done, but if we’d left his bed dry then Jake would only have taken it. This isn’t going to kill them anyway. Joe can turn to his god to keep him warm. We leave them there, cold and uncovered, and head off into our night.
They come into breakfast virtually growling, sending dagger glares our way. We pretend not to notice but Will and Louis giggle constantly.
‘What’s going on?’ Tom says, frowning.
‘Jake wrecked our stuff and we got even,’ Will pipes up before I can stop him. He’s bursting with pride. He and Louis are looking at me like I’m some sort of hero, all awe and admiration. The Jake of Dorm 4.
‘Nothing, really,’ Clara says. ‘Nothing with lasting damage, anyway.’
‘How come no one told me?’ Tom is disgruntled.
‘Spur-of-the-moment thing.’ I get up and head to the food station for some toast. Jake sees me and does the same. I can feel everyone watching. My nerves jangle but I’m ready for this. We’re destined to have a confrontation so we might as well get it out of the way. I’m still buzzing over what we did but I don’t feel invincible like Will and Louis. I also know there’ll be repercussions, and if anyone’s taking them, it needs to be me.
‘I suppose you think that was fucking funny,’ Jake says under his breath, standing close to me. I pick up two slices of white. They’re cold and a bit soggy but I don’t mind. Ashley is on the other side of me, scooping up some dry scrambled egg. He must be able to hear us, but he keeps his eyes on the food.
‘Yeah, I do.’ I smile at Jake, making sure I’m facing the rest of the room so everyone can see I’m unafraid. It’s not entirely true but the others don’t need to know that. Anyway, the nurses are here. He can’t touch me now. ‘Me and Clara didn’t do anything wrong. And whatever we did wasn’t Will and Louis’ fault. You need to get over it.’ A small part of me hopes he’ll listen to reason.
‘You need to shut your fucking mouth.’ His jaw is so tight I’m surprised he can even get the words out. ‘Playroom. After lunch. No marks on the face.’
So we’re going to fight after all. ‘I’ll check my schedule. I might have a date. You know, now that I have a girlfriend and everything.’ I wink at him and his fingers clench hard against his plate. I really shouldn’t wind him up any more. Even in a straight fight I’ve got no chance against Jake, and I have a feeling he won’t play straight.
‘This isn’t about her,’ he says. And I believe him. It isn’t any more. It’s about everything we’ve been repressing since we arrived here. It’s about all the anger and frustration and fear. For the first time in my life I think a fight might be good for me, even if I know I’m going to lose.
‘I’ll be there,’ I say casually as I head back to my table. ‘Wouldn’t miss it.’
Even the God Squad have been watching and Ashley’s eyes follow me all the way to my seat.
The morning passes slowly. I veer between overconfidence and wondering what the fuck I’ve done. It’s like I’m back on the grass walking away from Billy in Year 13 but this time no van is coming to steal me away before I get the shit kicked out of me. I spend most of the lesson time staring out of the window but the teachers don’t seem to care. They’re all in good moods for some reason. By ‘good moods’ I mean they manage a smile and look just as distracted as me. Tom slips me a note saying he’ll be my backup. It makes me feel better. Like maybe he’s forgiven me a bit for Clara, but I’m also guessing he doesn’t trust Jake, either.
I start to worry that Jake’s g
oing to shank me or something but tell myself I’m overthinking. He’ll just give me a thorough kicking. Knock me down and then no doubt let Albi and fat Daniel get the boot in too, for revenge. I don’t come out the winner in any of the scenarios that run through my mind. The best I can see in my future is some broken ribs. The worst, being stabbed in the liver with broken glass or something and me bleeding to death on the playroom floor.
My biggest real fear is that I’ll cry. I have no idea how it feels to get beaten up. The physical fight I had was when I was twelve, and most of that was just shoving, flailing and slapping. Jake has been to reform school. He’s going to be a fucking expert in pain.
I think about the chessboard and the book and the conkers and wonder how such a collection of shit got me into this mess. I wonder if being kicked repeatedly in the gut – because I know I’m not going to stay on my feet for long – could activate my Defectiveness. That’s what makes the worms in my stomach wriggle the most. But there’s no backing out now. I wouldn’t be able to face Clara or Will or Louis again. Or even fucking Ashley, for that matter.
My palms sweat until lunchtime. I try to stay cool and casual but as the morning ticks away my nerves steadily increase until I feel sick. I’ve always been the joker in the pack. I’m not the kid who got the girls or started fights. Even in those last days when I thought my luck was finally turning with Julie McKendrick and the party, I ended up in Defective jail instead.
I decide that if I can at least land one punch on Jake somewhere then I won’t feel too bad. That and not crying. Not crying is imperative. I manage a relatively good impression of external calm through lunch, even though I only push my food around my plate rather than eating it. Throwing up would be nearly as bad as crying – although maybe I could throw up in Jake’s face. That would end the fight pretty quickly.
‘You don’t have to do it, you know,’ Clara whispers to me. ‘Fighting’s stupid.’ I can see she’s worried. Her eyes keep darting across to the Dorm 7 table where Jake is eating normally and Daniel keeps squirming around in his chair and sniggering at me. His eyes are alive with delight and I’m tempted to go over there and punch him in his fat head. Daniel isn’t Jake, and he never will be.
‘Sometimes it’s better to just walk away. Who gives a shit about Jake, anyway?’
I want to tell her that it’s not even about Jake. I’m suddenly understanding what being Jake must feel like. Having others expect things from you. This isn’t about Jake. It’s about Tom and Louis and Will. I can’t disappoint them. What would it do to Louis and Will if they lost their faith in me? Also, maybe Clara wouldn’t care if I backed down, but I’d always wonder. We haven’t done it yet, but if we do I’m going to be terrified enough of getting it all wrong without wondering if she’s thinking I’m a coward, too. And why would she want to run away with someone who can’t stand up for himself? Or her? Yeah, I feel sick, but I feel sicker at the thought of not fighting Jake.
It’s only as I leave the dining room that everything goes awry.
‘Toby? Louis?’
Matron’s waiting for us in the hallway. Clara and Eleanor have gone ahead and Will and Tom are still eating. We freeze at the shock of hearing her speak our names. Her face is bland and smooth, her sharp eyes watching us with absolutely no expression. How hard does someone have to practise to look so devoid of anything real? Me and Louis look at each other. I see my fear reflected in his pale face. Jake no longer exists.
‘My office, please.’ She opens the door and we shuffle inside, my heart in my throat. I have never been so terrified as in that moment of hearing her say my name aloud. Louis is glued to my side, cringing into me. His fingers brush mine and for an awful moment I think he’s going to hold my hand. As we cross the threshold I think that might not feel so bad. What does she want? Does she know about the nights? But if so, why is Louis here and not Clara?
The door clicks shut and I swallow hard. The light seems bright and there’s a throbbing in my ears. The nurse – the one who spoke to us – is waiting inside. She’s got a syringe out. I think of the sanatorium. Is that where we’re going?
‘Nothing to worry about,’ she says.
‘I’ll do the talking, Nurse.’ Matron’s voice is calm, empty, but the nurse drops her eyes anyway.
‘We need to redo your blood tests,’ Matron says. ‘Roll up your sleeves, please.’
I go into autopilot and do as I’m told, my fingers clumsy. My heart is racing. Nothing to worry about. That’s what the nurse said. Maybe they just didn’t read right? I scan through my memories of school but can’t remember anyone ever having to have a retest before. Maybe their equipment isn’t as sophisticated here. Louis sniffs beside me and I can see him shaking.
‘It’s fine,’ I say. ‘This happened to some kids in my school once.’ I grin at him, forcing myself to relax. ‘At least it’s us, not Will. Needles don’t bother us.’
He’s looking at me as if I have all the answers. He wants to believe my lie. I want to believe my lie too. ‘You want to go first?’ He nods and the nurse taps the inside of his pale forearm to try and find a vein.
Matron has sat down behind her large wooden desk, already working on some papers as if we don’t exist. It’s a strange room. Old-fashioned like the rest of the house, but more cluttered than I’m used to seeing now. There’s a sofa behind us and a small table with a kettle and some mugs, a sugar bowl and a jug of milk. A couple of bland landscape paintings hang against the wallpaper above a large old-style photocopying machine. There’s no computer or even telephone that I can see.
The desk, covered with stacks of paper, dominates the room, and the wall next to it has a pinboard with several rotas tacked on, but I can’t make out what they say from where I’m standing. Next to that is a small rack with various keys hanging from it. I can hear my breath and Matron’s scratching pen as I realise that this is the hub of the house. Everything important is kept in here.
‘Your arm,’ the nurse says softly, and my fear brings my attention back to the blood test, but part of my mind is racing to mine and Clara’s plan. I bet the schedule for the boat is on that wall. I flinch with the needle prick and watch my blood escape. A retest. The ball in my stomach flares until I feel light-headed and sick. My skin is clammy. Despite what I’ve said to Louis, I can’t help but think it means only one thing. Our time is running out.
If me and Clara are going to run away, we might have to do it soon.
We stand in the hallway afterwards and watch the nurse head to the lift with our samples. I presume she’s taking them to the top floor – the sanatorium. I don’t want to think about it. I want to think about the boat, not the blood tests. How I can get back into Matron’s study and find out when it’s coming again. How me and Clara can get the fuck off this crappy island.
‘I don’t think we should tell the others about this,’ I say quietly. ‘I mean, it’s just a retest and doesn’t mean anything, but you know what people are like. They didn’t see her call our names. No point in telling them.’
Louis nods. His face has darkened slightly with fear again. He knows exactly what I mean. He knows how we’ve looked at the kids who’ve got sick: curious, expectant, victorious. He doesn’t want to be looked at like that and neither do I. My heart is racing as if time is speeding up inside me. I breathe deeply. I want it to slow down. I’m not ready for this. I don’t think anyone is ever ready for this. I’m suddenly very afraid but also, weirdly, very angry. This isn’t fair. None of it.
Jake is waiting for me in the playroom.
I stride down the corridor and see a small, chattering group huddled outside the door.
‘He won’t let us in, Toby,’ Will says, bubbling with nervous excitement. ‘He’s in there with Albi.’ I’m surprised Jake doesn’t want an audience, but maybe he’s worried about what’s going to be said between the punches. He’s lost enough face over Clara – although I want to point
out to him that making me fight him isn’t exactly going to give the others the impression that he doesn’t give a shit.
‘I’ll take Tom in then.’ Tom nods at me and there’s no arguments. Will and Louis aren’t backup material. Daniel leans against the wall further away from the door, scowling slightly, annoyed at being kicked out of the action. I feel a bit sorry for him. He needs to realise he’s never going to be cool and then maybe he’ll stop being such a little shit.
‘You okay?’ Clara grabs my hand.
‘I’m good.’ I’m burning inside. All my fear of what Jake might do to me evaporated in Matron’s study. ‘Just keep an eye on Daniel. Don’t let him pick on Will or Louis.’ She nods. After a second, she smiles and then leans up and kisses me. Her tongue slides into my mouth and everyone sees it. Will giggles, Louis does a poor attempt at a wolf whistle and Eleanor blushes.
‘Ugly slut,’ Daniel says.
‘Fat pig,’ Will counters. I laugh at that. It’s sudden and unexpected: Will is no longer a scared little kid. Daniel glowers, weighing up whether it’s worth trying to fight Will, but he’s outnumbered. And anyway, under all his bullying and snide remarks I’m sure he was more picked on before than any of us. He’s probably more used to running away than fighting back.
I’m ready. I want this done. I push the door open and go in. The chairs and tables have been shoved to the sides to clear a space in the centre of the room and Albi is perched on a stack of them in the corner by the window. He’s closed the curtains. Looks overcautious to me. I’ve never seen the nurses or teachers go out into the garden and the weather’s shit today.
The Death House Page 12
