“Another thing for Muriel to get addicted to,” said Jenny, her only friend from the old days. It was true. Anything under an A and she became unbearable.
Once he was settled back in, Nick took his time. He went into his bedroom again, and she found him back lying on his bed. By the time he was on his way a second time he was only about five minutes earlier than normal.
He slammed the door and stamped off, his bag over his shoulder. She watched him walk along the road. Who knows, she might have confused him so much by getting him up early that he might actually end up at school by accident. It didn’t take much to make Nick walk the other way. He was hanging out down at the flats or playing football on the common, or smoking cigarettes or spliffs down behind the mill as often as he was in lessons.
He was a bad lot, her boy. Too good-looking, too bright—one of those kids who found it all too easy. Friends, schoolwork, girls. Leadership qualities, they said at school. The trouble was, he wasn’t so much a role model as a ringleader. If there was trouble to be had, Nick wouldn’t just be in it, he’d be trying to get everyone else in it as well. He had more than his fair share of charm, just like his dad. He was going to need it if he didn’t get his finger out.
And he was loyal. That was his saving grace. Once Nick decided you were one of his, he never let go.
Muriel waited by the window until he disappeared around the corner before going back into the kitchen and getting the gear out from inside the washing machine. It was becoming harder and harder to find somewhere Nick wasn’t prepared to go, but the washing machine was one place she could be sure he’d leave alone.
The kettle was still hot from her tea and she had the works prepared in a moment. She wanted to feel warm and cozy, so she turned the gas fire on and kneeled on the rug in front of it. She wrapped the belt around and pulled with her teeth until the veins popped out—little highways to pleasure.
It was the first time in ages. She’d been as good as gold for months. Well, years, actually, except for occasions like this. You were allowed the odd treat, weren’t you? Amazing chance, Mo having a brother just around the corner on Lime Road. She couldn’t believe it when she saw him walking past the newsagent the day before. He was staying overnight. Nice of him to drop it off for her on his way back, too. Seven in the morning didn’t often see Mo out of bed, she bet.
Dangerous, though. Far too convenient. The last thing she wanted was a dealer just around the corner. Yesterday morning it had been two bus rides to get to his place. Now he even knew where she lived! Shit. But he was only rarely around this way to see his brother…maybe it would be all right…
Three or four times a year. Why not?
Muriel knew she really ought to wait for Jenny to come around, but she couldn’t wait. She pushed the needle into the vein and closed her eyes. Heaven ran into her arm. There was nothing on earth like it.
She sighed and leaned forward until her head was resting on the floor in front of her knees, her arm stretched out before her and the needle still in the vein. Bliss overwhelmed her, and she stopped breathing. She was in exactly the same position an hour and a half later when Jenny called around for a little bit of bliss herself and, hearing no answer to her knock, peered through the curtains and saw her lying flat out on the fireside rug. She rapped on the pane, then started shouting. She put her shoulder to the door and bruised it, and had to rush around to get a key off old Mrs. Ash from next door. When they got inside, the thing that struck her was how Muriel had cooled on one side and was hot on the other, where the gas fire had been toasting her.
Mrs. Ash rushed around, ringing for the police and making Jenny a cup of tea, but what was the point of rushing now? Jenny looked anxiously at the bag of heroin on the floor next to her ex-friend. Oh my God! How hard it was to sit there and ignore it. She could pop it in her handbag and walk away…But Mrs. Ash must have seen it. She couldn’t risk it.
Anxiously, she began going through her pockets and handbag to make sure there was nothing dodgy in them, even though she didn’t think anyone was going to search her. That would be heartless, she was being paranoid…but paranoia doesn’t mean to say they’re not out to get you. Best be sure.
Mrs. Ash came back in with a steaming cup and stood next to her, staring at the corpse on the floor.
“I never knew, I never knew,” she kept saying. “Did you know?” she asked Jenny.
“Years ago,” said Jenny. “We both did. This was…” She began to crack up as she spoke. So unfair! When she thought of all the things she and Muriel had been through together, to OD now, when weeks and months went by without either of them using. To have her life snatched away just when she was making something of herself. All the time, she’d been this genius and none of them had even guessed. And now she was nothing, just this lump of cooling meat that looked like her on the carpet. It made Jenny feel sick to look at her.
At least Nick hadn’t come home to find her like this. And then she thought—Nicholas! What on earth was going to happen to him now that Muriel was gone? My God. He hadn’t got a soul in the world.
An Imprint of Macmillan
SMACK. Copyright © 1996 by Melvin Burgess. All rights reserved. For information, address Square Fish, 175 Fifth Avenue, New York, NY 10010.
Square Fish and the Square Fish logo are trademarks of Macmillan and are used by Henry Holt and Company under license from Macmillan.
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Burgess, Melvin
Smack / Melvin Burgess.
p. cm.
Summary: After running away from their troubled homes, two English teenagers move in with a group of squatters in the port city of Bristol and try to find ways to support their growing addiction to heroin.
ISBN: 978-1-4299-9658-7
[1. Runaways—Fiction. 2. Heroin—Fiction. 3. Drug abuse—Fiction. 4. England—Fiction.] I. Title
PZ7.B9166Sm 1997 [Fic]--dc21 97-40629
Originally published in Great Britain in 1996 by Andersen Press Limited under the title Junk
First published in the United States in 1998 by Henry Holt and Company Square Fish logo designed by Filomena Tuosto
www.squarefishbooks.com
Permission for the use of the following is gratefully acknowledged:
“Ever Fallen in Love,” written by Peter Shelley. Lyrics reproduced by kind permission of Complete Music Ltd. “Promises,” written by Peter Shelley and Steve Diggle. Lyrics reproduced by kind permission of Complete Music Ltd. and Notting Hill Music Ltd. “The Beast,” written by Peter Perrett. Lyrics reproduced by kind permission of Complete Music Ltd. “Another Girl, Another Planet,” written by Peter Perrett. Lyrics reproduced by kind permission of Complete Music Ltd.
Smack Page 27
