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We Come Apart

Page 13

by Sarah Crossan


  We’ll get a train from there.

  Go anywhere that isn’t London.

  It’s what we were gonna do anyway,

  right?

  That was always the plan anyway.

  Right?’

  He’s staring at me,

  or squinting,

  trying to figure something out.

  ‘What?’ I ask. ‘What?’

  ‘It OK to changing your mind,’ Nicu says.

  ‘You OK to calling police

  and staying here with

  family and friends and normal

  life.

  It me who make mistake, Jess.

  Not you.’

  I shake my head,

  take his hand,

  his nails still dirty from Dan’s blood.

  ‘You aren’t leaving me,’ I say.

  FOR EVER

  ‘You aren’t leaving me,’ she say.

  No.

  I want never to leave Jess.

  For

  Ever.

  Lucky

  A siren blares out somewhere close by

  as a high speed train

  zips through the station.

  God,

  I wish we were on it,

  wish we were heading for Stansted, then Spain,

  somewhere so different

  we’d hardly recognise ourselves

  when we got there.

  ‘Shit, there isn’t another Cambridge train for forty minutes,’

  I tell Nicu,

  looking at the timetable,

  my hood covering my face to hide it from

  station staff.

  ‘We should go somewhere quiet to wait.’

  And we do.

  We go outside

  and find a bench by a burger van,

  where we sit with our heads down,

  thighs pressed against each other’s,

  sweating hands

  holding on tight.

  Everything disappears.

  The cars and people,

  the planes above and

  the trains along the track.

  It’s just him and me.

  All quiet.

  And I think

  for a second

  how lucky I am

  to have found him.

  How lucky I am

  that he came into my life.

  ‘You not so worrying now, Jess,’ he whispers.

  ‘No,’ I say.

  ‘I’m not so worrying at all.’

  PLATFORM

  ‘I need toilet,’ I say.

  ‘What? Now?’ Jess say annoying.

  ‘Yes, I needing now.’

  ‘OK, go. Hurry up.’

  ‘OK. Look after my stuff.’

  ‘Fine. I’ll meet you on the platform.’

  ‘Platform. Yes.’

  ‘Make sure no one sees you.’

  I do little laughter.

  ‘I’m serious, Nicu.

  I’m really serious.’

  She soft touch my cheek

  and look me eyes to eyes.

  Hers say

  You are my heart

  without the speaking

  and

  I try to swallow massive lump in throat

  because

  we have sharing

  heart.

  ‘No kissing stranger blokes,’ I say.

  ‘Shut up and go,’ Jess say and does

  punching of arm

  again.

  She could be champion boxer if she want.

  She could be

  anything

  if she want…

  if I didn’t make problem for her.

  Anything she want…

  if only without me.

  Time Sharing

  Prison wouldn’t be too bad

  if Nicu were there.

  If we shared a cell.

  Shared time.

  I mean,

  he’d get on my nerves

  trying to tell stupid jokes

  or throw chat up lines at me

  which just wouldn’t work with his English.

  But he wouldn’t hurt me,

  would he?

  We’d be locked in,

  and locked up together

  and he’d keep me safe,

  I reckon.

  Prison wouldn’t be that bad

  if Nicu were there.

  But prisons don’t work like that.

  They aren’t bloody love shacks.

  And if we get caught

  I’m all on my own.

  MIRROR MAN

  I look at my

  phone:

  many missing calls.

  I look at Cambridge train time:

  five minute.

  I look at face in toilet mirror:

  I want no more reparations

  for self-defending against Dan.

  How many jail years?

  Five?

  Ten?

  Twenty?

  I look my fingers in light.

  Dan won’t wash away

  From them.

  I scrubbing and scrubbing and scrubbing.

  But still.

  I Can’t See

  He’s been ages.

  What can be taking so long?

  The train approaches.

  I can’t see him.

  The train pulls in.

  On time.

  I can’t see Nicu.

  TEXTING

  I can’t to see my face in mirror.

  My eyes are glass with wet.

  A force is on my chest.

  I am in wood worker’s vice,

  turning

  tightening

  twisting

  tensing.

  PING!

  Where R U? Train here. ♥

  I send text.

  I arive now. C U on train. ♥

  PING!

  OK! J X

  I remain looking in mirror.

  Train leave in

  three minute.

  I can’t to move.

  Train leave in

  two minute.

  PING!

  I CANT C U.

  R U ON TRAIN???????

  Phone tight in hand.

  Train leave in

  one minute.

  PING!

  IM ON TRAIN...U???????

  My fingers shake.

  My heart break.

  Yes. Stay. I come to u. Ever ♥

  I listen to train.

  Doors beep-beeping.

  Train leave in

  zero minute.

  I feel for the courageous

  in my heart.

  The brave decide

  that I make.

  Time to self-defending

  Jess.

  Engine is louder now.

  Wheels squealing.

  My heart is the wheels.

  PING!

  PING!

  PING!

  Time to set Jess

  free

  from

  me.

  And Nicu,

  always stupid.

  ALWAYS STUPID.

  Plan to go on platform

  after train has vanishing.

  But

  train still there.

  And I see her.

  Jess

  through door,

  through window

  and she see me.

  Her eye

  meet

  my eye.

  She see.

  We see.

  Train moving … and moving,

  and we don’t to

  hold hand,

  have kiss,

  hug tighter.

  We don’t to say

  goodbye.

  Goodbye, Jess,

  I whispering and waving.

  Goodbye

  my Jess.

  Train to Nowhere

  ‘NICU!’

  I shout,

  much louder than I did when Liam turned his back on me.
r />   ‘NICU!’

  I bang the window,

  kick the door,

  so mad and so loud everyone in the carriage is staring,

  not knowing

  why I’m freaking out.

  But it doesn’t matter what I do,

  I can’t open the door –

  the button won’t work,

  even though I punch it and punch it and punch it.

  And

  the train is moving slowly,

  leaving,

  chugging up to Cambridge

  without Nicu.

  And he isn’t doing anything to stop it.

  He’s just

  watching me,

  waving,

  almost smiling

  and crying too,

  like a bloody big baby,

  watching and waving,

  sobbing,

  and I know,

  then,

  seeing the look he’s giving me

  that

  there’s no point

  in texting him and

  telling him to meet me in Cambridge

  in a couple of hours

  because he did this on purpose.

  He let me leave.

  ‘You dickhead!’ I shout.

  Doesn’t he know how much worse everything is now?

  He thinks I’m going to Cambridge, but I’m not,

  I’m going nowhere

  and when I arrive he’ll be

  somewhere else –

  on his way to prison probably.

  ‘Why?’ I ask,

  but he doesn’t hear me,

  and I know the answer anyway.

  I look for him but

  the train is out of the station.

  I am gone and

  there’s nothing else to do except

  say his name

  over and over in my head like a spell.

  Nicu, Nicu, Nicu, Nicu, Nicu.

  I sit,

  stare down at his bag by my feet.

  His cape is rolled up at the top.

  I take it out

  to cover myself in him –

  his smell,

  his stupidity.

  ‘Nicu,’ I hear myself saying

  and look into the bag again,

  where I see

  the cash –

  wads and wads of his dad’s cash.

  ‘You dickhead,’ I say again,

  and I can’t help it:

  I smile.

  IN THE DISTANCE

  I watch

  Jess

  go clack-clack

  down

  train line

  track.

  I see train disappear.

  Two lights

  wink at me

  in long distance.

  Everything now in long distance:

  hands in mine

  ice skate laughs

  sweets on slide

  running

  hugs

  lips

  tears

  every dream in long distance.

  Life is all

  clickety clack.

  We come together.

  Now

  we come apart.

  BRIAN CONAGHAN

  Brian Conaghan was born and raised in the Scottish town of Coatbridge but now lives in Dublin. He has a Master of Letters in Creative Writing from the University of Glasgow. For many years Brian worked as a teacher and taught in Scotland, Italy and Ireland. His novels include The Boy Who Made it Rain, When Mr Dog Bites, shortlisted for the 2015 Carnegie Medal, and The Bombs That Brought Us Together, shortlisted for the 2016 Costa Children’s Book Award.

  @BrianConaghan

  SARAH CROSSAN

  Sarah Crossan has lived in Dublin, London and New York, and now lives in Hertfordshire. She graduated with a degree in Philosophy and Literature before training as an English and Drama teacher at Cambridge University. Since completing a Masters in Creative Writing, she has been working to promote it in schools. Sarah Crossan won the 2016 Carnegie Medal, the YA Book Prize, the CBI Irish Children’s Book Award and many other prizes for her novel, One.

  sarahcrossan.com @SarahCrossan

  Bloomsbury Publishing, London, Oxford, New York, New Delhi and Sydney

  First published in Great Britain in February 2017 by Bloomsbury Publishing Plc

  50 Bedford Square, London WC1B 3DP

  This electronic edition published in December 2016

  www.bloomsbury.com

  BLOOMSBURY is a registered trademark of Bloomsbury Publishing Plc

  Copyright © Brian Conaghan and Sarah Crossan 2017

  The moral rights of the authors have been asserted

  All rights reserved

  No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying or otherwise, without the prior permission of the publisher

  A CIP catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library

  Hardback ISBN 978 1 4088 7885 9

  Export ISBN 978 1 4088 7886 6

  eISBN 978 1 4088 7887 3

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