“Yes, Jody is it?”
“Yes,” I confirmed, searching for something to ask. “Jody McBride.”
“Yes?”
“Er, I was wondering…”
“Hmm…” Mrs Benedict peered at me from behind her round spectacles.
“My mum is going to have a baby soon. I was wondering how babies are born?”
“Ah, well…”
She glanced round the class, sizing up the audience. She wasn’t one to dodge a question, Mrs Benedict. But clearly this wasn’t part of today’s lesson.
“Well, I er…”
A couple of the boys at the back sniggered as she stumbled through her answer. I was pretty sure Mrs Benedict hadn’t had any babies of her own because the explanation she gave sounded unlikely.
“And when the baby is ready,” she concluded, “the mother gives a big push and out it comes.”
“But how does the baby know if it’s ready?”
I watched as the hand slid further round the clock.
“It just does.”
Her smile was kind, but her eyes said, ‘Don’t mess with me.’ “Now then, I’d better call the register.”
So there was nothing for it, Dawn would have to be marked late. Except she didn’t arrive during Maths, and not by first break neither. She must be ill.
The long dinner break loomed ahead of me. Without Dawn, I had no one to sit with. I saw Sam in the playground and tried to catch his eye, but he always ignored me when he was with his friends. I knew some kids went to the nurse’s office when they wanted to skive, but that wouldn’t work for me. Mum would be at the factory, and Dad would see right through my lies. He didn’t care about school, but I couldn’t see him coming to collect me. He’d tell the nurse I could make my own way home, and she would insist that I couldn’t.
Instead, I walked around the school field by myself, careful not to catch anyone’s eye.
I felt a tiny bubble of excitement as I discovered a hole in the wire fence that separated the field from the outside world. I felt inside the lining of my jacket pocket and took out Sam’s penknife. The blade was a bit blunt, but sharp enough to saw through the thin wire until the hole was big enough to crawl through. I glanced quickly around, but no one paid me any heed. Two first years were punching each other’s lights out and everyone was watching them, cheering them on.
My cardigan snagged on the wire, and I had to wriggle out of it to set myself free. For a moment, I considered leaving it there, but then I realised that that would be like leaving a clue, so I yanked at the sleeve until it came away. From there, I raced round the back of the caretaker’s cottage. A small dog yapped at me and strained on his lead, but he couldn’t get at me. I glanced back at the school, but I don’t think anyone had seen me. I felt light and giddy as I ran out onto the main road. Why had I never done this before?
I slowed my pace as I reached the high street, my cheeks warm with the effort of running. The woman who ran the grocery shop stood outside, puffing on a fag.
“Why are you out so early then?”
Her voice was husky, like she’d been chewing on gravel.
I crossed the street and pretended I hadn’t heard her. I didn’t have to talk to her if I didn’t want to. It was none of her business what I did.
The front door was locked when I got home, but I had my key. I wondered if Dad had gone down the Job Centre, as Mum kept suggesting. Nah, more likely he’d gone down the Halfway House with his mates. There were a few of them he hung about with, and not a job between them. I couldn’t believe how unfair it was, so many good men without jobs, while the rich people lived in big mansions and drove about in fancy cars.
I made a beeline for the kitchen. I found a wholemeal loaf in the breadbin and cut myself two slices, as thick as doorsteps. I slathered on a layer of butter, and added some Branston pickle and cheese. I carried my plate over to the sofa and picked up the remote. I was about to switch on the TV, when I heard a noise coming from upstairs.
Had the squatters got into our house?
I pictured them rifling through Mum’s jewellery. I didn’t really know what they looked like, but I imagined big, bulky men in black turtleneck jumpers.
I grabbed the poker from the fireplace and took the stairs two at a time, as softly as I could. When I reached the landing, I stopped. The noise was coming from my parents’ room. I heard low murmurings and the occasional giggle. What were they doing in there?
I pushed the door open a crack and had a butchers. Instantly, I felt as if all the air had been sucked out of me. There were no squatters, but Mum was sitting on the bed with her massive bump protruding in front of her. A man who wasn’t my dad had his hands around her waist, his lips pressed against hers. I couldn’t believe what I was seeing. Mum wasn’t supposed to have another man in her bedroom, and she certainly wasn’t supposed to be snogging the face off him.
6
I ran to my room and hid under the blankets. I don’t know if Mum heard me or not, but no one followed. I covered my ears and tried not to listen to what was going on in the next room. I felt embarrassed, but more than that, I was furious at Mum for cheating on Dad.
Did I have to tell him?
If I stayed quiet, we could still be a family. I thought of the unborn baby in Mum's tummy. How would the baby feel if it was born into a broken family? But could I really let Mum make a fool of Dad in this way?
I waited until I was sure the man had left, then I came out of hiding.
“I saw you,” I told Mum.
I expected her to deny it, but she didn’t even try.
“These things happen,” she said. “I love your Dad, you know I do, but he’s not always the easiest bloke to live with.”
I thought of the jellied eels and wavered.
“It was just a silly mistake.”
She tried to twist the wedding ring on her finger but her hands were so puffy, the ring refused to budge.
“We all make mistakes, don’t we?”
She looked down at me, her eyes narrow and unashamed.
“I suppose.”
She didn’t look worried nor frightened. If anything, she looked glad to have someone to talk to. It occurred to me that maybe she wanted me to tell Dad so that she wouldn’t have to. She wanted me to make the decision for her.
I knew what happened to the children of divorced parents. Dawn only got to see her dad every other weekend. He’d become like a stranger. He didn’t even remember what flavour ice cream she liked anymore, and at Christmas, he bought her presents that were meant for little kids. Plus, neither of her parents could afford to run a motor anymore. They had to walk everywhere, or else take the bus. Even when it was pissing it down. I couldn’t imagine Dad having to give up the van. It would break him, possibly more than Mum’s betrayal.
“Getting divorced sucks,” Dawn told me. “When I grow up, I’m never getting divorced. In fact, I ain’t even going to get married, unless it’s to George Michael.”
“Me either,” I agreed.
The more I heard about divorce, the more I knew that I didn’t want that for my family. And yet, I couldn't look at Dad without feeling guilty. Mum was the one who had cheated, but I felt like I was cheating too, by not telling him. It nagged at me. I lay awake at night, tossing and turning.
“Will you pack it in?” Sam growled from his bed.
“Piss off!”
In the end, I went downstairs and poured myself a glass of water. Dad lay on the sofa, watching one of his favourite programmes, but he didn’t appear to be enjoying it. Like me, he had other things on his mind.
“You OK?” I asked. A little part of me hoped that he knew about Mum.
“I don’t feel myself without my job.”
“At least Mum’s still got a job.”
Dad grunted.
“It’s not just the money that concerns me. It’s the fact they let me go. Me. I’m one of the best firemen in the whole of London.”
I nodded earnestly. “The very
best.”
“Why didn’t they sack Ron or Doug? Neither of them has had half the experience I’ve had.”
“I thought they were your mates?”
“They are,” he muttered, not seeming to care. “I’m just saying it seems like a bad decision. There must be some reason behind it. Some kind of conspiracy.”
He thumped his fist down on the table. “Who knows what they’re up to, the miscreants. Sacking me must have been part of some grand scheme.”
I nodded, not entirely understanding.
“Well, I’d better get back to bed, Dad, I’ve got school in the morning.”
“Yes, yes of course. I’ll be alright on my lonesome. Don’t you worry about me.”
His eyes were so troubled, I didn’t have the heart to go back to bed after all. I sat up with him, late into the night, until the pair of us fell asleep on the sofa, the TV still jabbering on to itself.
I was exhausted in the morning, and my heart was as heavy as ever. I should have told Dad everything the night before. Now the moment had passed, and it was still tearing me apart, this awful secret. I’d never had to keep one before, not this big.
“What’s eating you?” Sam asked, as we set off for school.
“You have to promise you won’t tell.”
“Cross my heart and hope to die. Stick a needle in my eye.”
It felt good to get it off my chest. It had been like carrying a heavy ball around in my stomach. Much the way Mum must feel, carrying her baby.
Sam’s eyes grew wide as I revealed what I had seen.
“You’re telling porkies!”
“I ain’t.”
He raised his fist at me. “Take it back! Take it back!”
But I couldn’t. Sam punched me hard in the stomach, making me wheeze. I fought back, landing blows on his chest and chin. He pulled my hair and I scratched his face. He bit my hand and I punched him again, the two of us rolling around in the dirt.
“Do you surrender?”
But Sam didn’t surrender. Neither of us ever did. We punched and kicked and rolled until someone came out of one of the houses and threw a bucket of ice-cold water over us.
We had to go back home after that and change into clean clothes, making us half an hour late for school. Sam was given a detention. I saw him stuck in his classroom at break, scribbling lines in his exercise book. Mrs Benedict didn’t notice I was late. Apparently, one of the other girls had answered when my name was called. They all thought it was a right laugh.
Sam didn’t mention the fight at tea time, so I didn’t either. We arrived at an unspoken truce, silently munching our cheese on toast, as if nothing had happened. I had a massive bruise on my bum, but I wasn’t going to tell Sam that. I wasn’t going to let him think he’d won.
“What’s with you two?” Dad asked from across the table.
“Nothing.”
“Never known you to be so quiet. What’s wrong? Cat got your tongue?”
“Just knackered,” I said. “Too much schoolwork.”
He nodded at that. “Big bloody waste of time, if you ask me.”
Sam scuttled off as soon as he finished, leaving me to clear all the plates. I carried them to the kitchen and drowned them in the sink, leaving them there to fester.
It was a cold evening. I put my biggest jumper on, but I struggled to get warm. Dad and Uncle Richard took the best spots by the fire, talking about stuff I didn’t really understand.
“If it weren’t for the squatters,” I heard Dad say. “We could do something about our living situation once and for all. We’ve been stuck on the council waiting list for years.”
I coughed, hoping to be let into their inner circle. The fire was warm and orange, and the wind blew around the room, like waves on a stormy sea.
Dad glanced round and stared at me, as if seeing me for the first time.
“Why are you skulking about, Jody? Haven’t you got somewhere to be?”
“I’m just going to start on my homework.”
“Well off with you then, and stop listening at keyholes.”
I was fast asleep in bed when it happened. It must have been pretty late because I wasn’t in the habit of going to bed early. I’m sure it was past midnight - maybe one or two in the morning. I heard voices outside, beneath my window. I peeked through the curtains and saw Dad with a group of mates. They were all carrying tools - hammers and spanners and things that glinted in the moonlight. As I watched, they pulled balaclavas over their heads.
The next thing was the sound of breaking glass. I heard a young child scream. There was a lot of shouting and shrieking and yet more broken glass. I saw women and children running off with whatever they could carry. I was so frightened, I wanted to call the cozzers, but the phone box was all the way down the end of the lane. I hid under my covers, my heart pumping violently in my chest.
Then I heard my own front door open and slam shut. I sat up in bed. What was happening? Were the squatters finally invading? I glanced around the room, looking for weapons but there was only the broom Mum had left by the door.
“Sam! Sam!”
But my brother simply rolled over on to his front.
“To us!” Dad roared from downstairs.
“To us!” his mates chorused.
They sounded happy, rather than angry. Slowly, I set down the broom and climbed back into bed. I tried to go back to sleep, but their voices carried on into the early hours, raised in song after song.
7
The house shook with Dad’s snores the next morning. Mum had already left for work, but she had left out a packet of crumpets for breakfast. Sam rammed them into the toaster and we stood at the counter, waiting hungrily for them to pop. I told him about the night’s disturbance.
We looked at the houses either side as we set off for school. Both had smashed windows, and one had a busted door. There were fragments of paint along the pavement, and several personal items, including some children’s glasses and a single mitten.
“Do you think there’ll be new squatters coming to take their place?” Sam asked.
“I hope not!”
“Dad had to do it, you know. Those people didn’t have no right to be there.”
“I know.”
But I was still troubled by the women and children I had seen, fleeing from the houses. I decided they must have been prisoners of the squatters, and Dad and his mates had set them free.
“I’ve got another job,” Uncle Richard told Dad, while I was washing up that evening. Sam was supposed to dry, but he’d snuck off to his room, claiming he had homework.
“Where?” Dad asked.
“An office building over in Southwark. They’re offering a grand.”
I continued to scrub the plates. A grand was a lot of money. Even I knew that.
“Thank you for doing the dishes,” Mum said, when she came downstairs.
I shrugged. I still didn’t want to speak to her, after what she’d done to Dad.
“You off to work then?” Richard asked, as Mum picked up her handbag.
“Yes,” she said. She looked so huge that I was amazed she could still work. She could barely fit through the door.
“Night, kids,” she called, giving Sam a peck on the cheek. She tried to kiss me too, but I shied away.
“What's up with you?” Dad said. “Give your mum a kiss.”
But I really didn't want to. I still felt confused and angry whenever I was around her.
“That’s alright, she’s getting to that age,” Mum said.
I let her walk out the door without saying goodbye.
After Richard left, the three of us sat on the sofa, watching Star Trek. Dad was drinking beer and since he didn’t like to drink alone, he poured us each a half pint. I only pretended to drink mine, but Sam was getting through it. I wasn’t sure that he really enjoyed it any more than I did, but he wanted Dad to think he was grown up. When he had finished his beer, I swapped glasses with him, and he drank mine as well. It went righ
t to his head. Then, out of nowhere, he just came out with it:
“Jody saw Mum kissing another man.”
Dad’s face turned white. “Jody?”
I opened my mouth to deny it, but I couldn’t. I wished I could tell him it wasn’t true. I wished I could take away his pain.
“I’m sorry, Dad.”
Dad let out a noise that sounded like a wounded animal. He tumbled right off the sofa.
“Dad…”
I didn’t want to look at him, but for some reason, I couldn’t look away. He sweated and trembled, like he had a bad case of the squits, and tore off his vest to reveal the incredible hairiness beneath. I tried to put my arms around him, but he shoved me away, sending me crashing into the bookcase.
“Ow!”
I thought that he would care that he had hurt me, but he didn’t. Perhaps I deserved it, for sitting on this terrible news. I’d betrayed him, just like Mum. I picked myself up and edged away, waiting for him to pull himself together.
Slowly, his expression changed. The colour flooded back to his face and he leapt up with the virility of a much younger man. He picked up one of Mum’s beloved books and hurled it across the room, then another, and another. I thanked god she was at work because I’m certain he would have killed her. Sam and I ran up the stairs and watched from the banister, as he flipped the dining room table over.
“What have you done?” I hissed at Sam, as the good china smattered to the floor.
I was frightened to see the hatred in Dad’s eyes. It was like he had turned into a werewolf and he didn’t know how to change back. Every bit of softness was gone from his face, replaced with sheer rage. I wished there was a way I could warn Mum, before she came home.
8
I was supposed to be on my way to school when Mum came home, but I told Sam I’d catch him up. I couldn’t leave, I didn’t dare. She set her keys down on the side and slipped off her shoes, sinking into the armchair. I thought Dad was still asleep in bed, but his footsteps were heavy on the stairs.
Cold Bath Lane Page 4
