When I go see her the next day at her granny’s Susie doesn’t say anything for ages. Then she goes, “Where the fuck’s Gene?”
“Don’t know,” I say, but the whole time I’m wondering, Why does she want to know about Gene at a time like this?
“We’re getting married,” she says.
“Excuse me?” I say.
“I said we’re getting married, me and Gene, soon as I’m sixteen. We’re in love, so I know he’s not in Turkey with your fucking ma.”
“What are you talking about?”
She produces two plane tickets to Spain, one with her name on it, the other with Gene’s.
I can’t move.
“We were going to disappear, start a new life away from this shit hole. That’s why I went to see my ma, to say good-bye.” She was sad then, but I didn’t care. I wanted to wring her neck. I wanted to do a lot of things but in that moment I could barely move a muscle.
“When the fuck did this happen?” I yelled.
“Started last summer. I went to see you and you weren’t in. He was. We have a lot in common as a matter of fact.”
“Shut up,” I says.
“He’s not with her, Marnie, I know he’s not, something’s happened to him.”
“Nothing’s happened to him, he’s done a runner like he always does.”
“Then why’s his stuff still in the house? Last time he texted me he said he loved me. We were meant to meet up the next day. Go to Spain. That was months ago. He bought the fucking tickets!” she screamed.
She started flapping them about in my face.
I didn’t know what to say but I had to find something, anything to keep her from raising the alarm and going to the police.
“He’ll be back,” I assured her. “But not for you,” I spat.
“I’m going to the police,” she says.
“You do that Gene gets done for rape of a minor. Abduction probably. You’re only fifteen.”
“They don’t have to know that.”
“You think I won’t tell them? You can’t be breaking up my family and expect me to do nothing.” Obviously I was a little wobbly on this point.
Susie cried like a baby after that and I wanted to hug her, but I couldn’t. She made me sick to my stomach.
After the Susie bombshell I went to the library. Drowned my sorrows in algebra, I have prelims right now and I can barely think with everything going on. Anyway when I got home Kirkland was hanging around my gate, earphones on, black coat hanging around his legs and big smiles. I couldn’t be arsed with him.
“What you doing here, don’t you have to study or something or is that just me?” I says.
“Come to give you this,” he says and hands me a CD.
I say, “Thanks,” but really I’m thinking, Another fucking compilation. Great.
“Did you get my text messages?” he asks.
“Yeah.”
“So do you want to go and see a film?”
“If I’d wanted to see a film, I’d have texted you back, but I didn’t text you back.”
“How no?” he says, obviously not taking the hint.
“ ’Cause I don’t want to see a film, Fannybaws.”
“Did I do something wrong?” he whimpers.
Now I feel like I’m pointing a shotgun at a puppy.
“Look,” I say. “You’re a nice bloke and I feel like a bitch saying this, but I’m not into you, okay?”
He doesn’t say anything for a bit, then he goes, “Got any jellies?”
“You need to see Mick for that stuff. I don’t work for him anymore.”
“Can we at least be friends?”
“Aye awright.”
What else am I going to say?
Then he steps in for a hug and throwing him a bone, I hug him back, but then he moves in for a snog.
“Fuck off,” I says.
“I’m sorry,” he says, but he’s not. Chancer.
“So you should be,” I say and then I stomp off. Very dramatic, but when I keek out the window I see him holding his head like he’s in this big love drama and I’ve totally fucked him up or something. All this after one awkward shag, but that’s how shags are the first time, everyone trying to impress and getting it wrong.
I knew I had to get rid of him then. I mean really rid of him. I don’t want him thinking about me and decide to be brutal. When it comes to guys like Kirkland you’ve got to be. It’s for their own good. So the following Saturday we’re all out at this club, Kirkland in his finest goth attire, black suit jacket instead of the signature trampy mac he likes to wear. He even washed his hair, he actually looked smart and was wearing aftershave and nice stuff, he usually stinks of patchouli incense, an arse of a smell. Anyway I have a job to do and so I single out his mate Daniel and take him out back for a BJ, but I can’t face it ’cause he reeks and I snog him instead. Kirkland thinks he’s best friends with Daniel but that’s the thing with Kirkland, you give him any attention whatsoever and suddenly he’s your bitch. Anyway when we get back to the club I find Kirkland getting off with some random Indie chick with pink hair and it bugs me. In a very surprising fury I go and get myself a drink, mostly to get the taste of Danny out my mouth and Kirkland appears at my side.
“Awright,” he says. “Good night?”
“Great,” I says. “Your pal has a big dick.”
“Right?” he says.
“Who the fuck’s she?” I say and like I’m annoyed. I want to kick myself for that, but it’s too late, it’s out of my mouth and he thinks he’s got me all interested, but I’m not.
“What do you care?” he says.
“I don’t.” Trying to take back any notion I give a shit. “ ’Cause I don’t.”
“Good. Want a drink?”
“Okay,” and he buys me a drink. He’s like that. Then he takes it over to the table for me and sits next to her.
His pal Danny’s all over me of course and can’t snog for shit and Pink’s all over Kirkland, then I remember what a nice kisser Kirkland is and I can’t stop looking at him. Then I notice he’s looking at me while he’s kissing Pink. It gets really sick then and we’re kissing these people we obviously don’t want to be kissing, our hands reaching past them on the sofa, playing with each other’s fingers. I can’t take it anymore and go to the toilet and see if Kirkland will follow me and he does. We just stand there, staring and suddenly I’m feeling this warm sensation from my loins to my lips and I jump him, I want to feel him everywhere and it’s so red we have to leave the club or rather run away from Pink and Danny, who end up getting off with each other and bitching about us probably.
Anyway we got to Kirkland’s house and we take a ton of Mick’s drugs or Kirkland does and we fuck all night and it might be the first time in my life I actually want to do it with someone and it’s different, naked, real, careful, and honest.
I can hardly believe it. I thought I hated him, but it was a lie and I told it to myself, why would I do that?
His parents were away and so I stay with him for two amazing days of eating and shagging, all the time some CD he’s recorded for me, maybe five, spinning in the background. He tells me he loves me and has always loved me, he tells me he will always love me and I don’t say it back and just laugh at him, but he doesn’t care, he still says it and I want him to. When it’s time to go, I want to stay, but I pretend I want to go and when I look for my clothes, they’re all folded, even my pants, makes me a wee bit embarrassed, so I act cool and call him a soppy arse, but Kirkland doesn’t know what cool means, he’s so straight and then he does this really cute begging thing and taking the piss out of himself for wanting me to stay and that makes me want to stay more. But I can’t, I don’t want to make him like me too much or maybe I don’t want to like him too much.
I don’t have my iPod on me and so he gives me his.
Outside it’s freezing, but it’s a good cold. He walks me to the subway and we pass this window, it’s all shiny and like a mirror, reflecting
me and Kirkland holding hands. He’s taller than me and we look quite funny together, then he says, “Don’t you like how we look?” I don’t say anything, but then he goes, “ ’Cause I like how we look.” Then he pulls me to his face and we kiss again.
On the way home I listen to everything he played for me over the weekend and even though it doesn’t sound the way it did when we were together, it sounds like something I want to hear all the time.
Next day I go to see Susie but I can’t ring the doorbell. I don’t even know why I’m at the door at all to be honest. I suppose I want to tell my bezzy mate all about Kirkland, someone who won’t say anything and be glad for me, someone who’ll keep it a secret, but things are too fucked-up between Susie and me and so I leave. I decide to find Kim, but she’s all gutted over Lorna, they’ve had another barney and so I end up comforting Kim and saying shite like “She’s just not worth it” when I should be saying, “Take your fucking meds, you mental head,” but she’s my bezzy so I don’t say anything, I just hug her and hand her hankies. In the end I go to the garden and tell Izzy, she could never keep a secret before, but given her situation she’s great at keeping secrets. So is Gene, but then again he always was.
Nelly
Marnie has taken up with a boy. I’ve seen them from my window. He takes her home almost every night, a true gentleman. Sometimes they lurk in the shadows where I can’t see them. I wonder at their secrets. He must be a very humorous chap, for she giggles and gasps at everything he has to say. She is positively smitten with the fellow. I have no interest in boys. They smell of socks and oil. Their teeth are yellow and their smiles too wide. I wish they’d look to their books, I wish they wouldn’t whistle and gawk, I wish they wouldn’t look at me at all. It is most vexing.
“Enjoy it while it lasts, hot stuff,” says Sharon.
“Don’t call me that,” I tell her.
“Hot?” She laughs. “What’s your problem? You’re gorgeous. Could have any guy you want and you act like a freak.”
“You have a fellow no doubt,” I say.
“I have several fellows, my lady.”
“I have more important pursuits in life.”
“What can be more important than having a good time? You’re not forty. You should hang with us sometime. It would be a laugh.”
I shrug.
“Suit yourself, freakoid.”
I was ever so relieved as she walked away, I returned to calm and rushed home to Lennie. We can play together and eat crumble. It’s exactly what the doctor ordered. A crumble and a violin. It doesn’t get much better than that.
Lennie
Couldn’t believe the verdict. Brain tumor. Malignant. Aggressive. Too large for surgery they said. I didn’t know what to say. I felt a strange tingling in my fingertips and my tongue went sour. My body felt heavy and my head light. I tried to stand up and go home, take what he said and fold it into a drawer, but I couldn’t even stand and had to sit, someone handed me water while another talked to me of hospices on account of having no one to care for me and it’s true there isn’t anyone. I can’t exactly lean on the girls, can I? They mustn’t even know.
I feel a terrible grief when I think of passing on, and fear, so much fear, but it’s best not to think of such things I suppose. I could still live a long time, doctor says it happens, although he didn’t look too optimistic when I asked him, he still smiled at me, albeit a paltry smile, but still, it lends a little comfort.
I have much to organize now. Affairs to get in order and a life to tidy away. Doesn’t seem real all of this. Doesn’t feel real at all, but then something taps at me and shows me the truth, I’ll fall over or break a cup and then it all comes swimming back to me, the doctors, the tumor, and the weak smiles.
I hope to die in my sleep, Joseph, not knowing, just closing my eyes and forgetting the things I am leaving behind. I don’t want to die with my heart breaking. I don’t want to die at all.
Marnie
It was a gorgeous morning and I was in the garden. I don’t smell them so much anymore or maybe I’m used to it or my senses are pretending it’s something else, maybe I am.
Nelly was over at Lennie’s so I could mellow with a CD Kirkland made, have a fag, and text my boyfriend.
That’s when I heard it. Noise, coming from inside the house, barging into my Sunday. I thought I was imagining it at first but then I heard a voice, an angry voice. I wanted to go over to Lennie’s, skip over the fence, but he’d have called the police and that’s the last thing I needed, not with two dead bodies in the garden. I wondered if it was a burglar or a junkie looking for something random to steal, a lot of it about round here. Then I got scared it was a rapist and I’m searching frantically for an exit but there wasn’t one, I couldn’t go to Lennie’s and I couldn’t scale the walls surrounding our house. I was stuck with nowhere to go and I really didn’t want to get raped, so I hid in the shed.
It was freezing in the shed and of course it made me think of Izzy hanging from the rafters and I felt kind of ill, sort of sick in my stomach. I felt her then and for the first time in a long time, as if she was standing right next to me, but she wasn’t. I heard footsteps, there was someone in the garden and they were making strides toward the shed, I was like a rat in a cage and my heart was ready to explode and my teeth ready to bite. I grabbed a hammer and got ready to defend, I closed my eyes, I was afraid of what I’d see and then the door opened and it was Mick, not a rapist or a burglar, just Mick looking confused and a bit scared of the hammer.
“What you doing in here?” he says in a curious inquiry kind of way.
“Fuck, Mick. I thought you were a rapist or something. You scared the shit out of me.” I push him hard in the chest. “How did you get in anyway?” I says.
“You left the front door open. What’s that fucking smell by the way?” he says, sniffing at the air.
“Sewers.” I tremble. “They’re fucked.”
“Naw, that’s not it. S’like a hospital smell. Disinfectant over shite.”
I shove past him, into the house.
“Where you going?” he asks.
“I’m not going anywhere, you are. I want you out of my house.”
“Is that right?” He laughs.
He follows me into the living room.
“What you doing here anyway?” I says.
“Looking for Gene. What do you think?”
“I told you, he’s with Izzy. They’re in Turkey.”
“Then what’s this?”
He waves Gene’s passport in the air. Izzy’s passport.
“Where did you get that?” I try not to shake. I try not to vomit.
“Shoe box in the airing cupboard.”
I’m shivering now and not from cold.
“Look,” he says, “I’m not going to hurt you, okay? I just want to know where they are and you’re going to tell me, Marnie, ’cause I’m not leaving this house till you do.”
I had a feeling he’d say that.
Lennie
She came out of the shed with a hammer in her hand. I rather hoped she’d smack him with it. No such intelligence. They had a wee chat and then they went inside, but she didn’t look that happy about it. Poor lassie, doesn’t know her arse from her elbow and you want to help her but you know she’ll lock the doors if you try and I need them open to comfort her when she’s had enough, when she’s too tired to pretend anymore. She’s obviously looking for a father figure, and love perhaps; she just looks in the wrong place and almost on purpose. That’s probably why she turned to him in the first place, seeking pain and feeding the loathing within. It makes me frightened for her, it’s like there’s wood rot inside her eating away at her soul and nibbling at all the things she could become; fortunately for her I’m a bit of a handyman in this respect and this particular wood rot is very treatable. In the right hands of course.
There’s a number on his van. I remember. MAKE YOUR DAY SPECIAL. CALL MICK.
The Death of Bees Page 11
