Altitude

by Niel Bushnell

  ‘Um, hi . . . just seeing if you're OK,’ Abigail asked.

  ‘Get out!’ Becca growled.

  ‘I'm OK,’ Tam said, feeling exhausted.

  ‘See?’ Becca said. ‘She's ill. Tell Miss Ronson I'm taking her home.’

  Abigail ignored Becca and stepped closer to Tam. ‘Maybe it’s just exhaustion, or a cold after the rain . . .’

  ‘Piss off,’ Becca hissed, pushing the other girl back.

  ‘But I just—’

  ‘You’d better leave while you still can, yeah?’

  Abigail's eyes pleaded with Tam. She raised her hand and touched her shoulder. ‘If you need—’

  ‘Don't bloody touch her!’ Becca shouted, grabbing Abigail's arm, twisting it and dragging her to the floor.

  Abigail cried out in pain. Tears filled her pleading eyes as she looked up at Tam, desperate for help.

  Tam shook her head as she stepped round her and walked out the door. She needed time to herself. There was just too much to think about. She desperately wanted to talk it over with someone, but there was no one she could confide in, not without sounding crazy. No one except Abigail.

  She stopped outside the toilets, taking a deep breath.

  Becca appeared, proud of herself. ‘Come on, I’ll get you signed out at reception. You’ve got Netflix, right? We can—’

  Tam pushed past Becca and opened the toilets door.

  ‘Are you listening?’ Becca asked.

  Tam didn’t reply. She went into the toilets and found Abigail at the mirrors, washing her face clean of tears.

  She tensed as Tam approached her.

  ‘Are you OK?’ Tam asked.

  Abigail didn’t reply; she just turned back to the mirror.

  Becca came back into the toilets, her face painted with confusion. ‘What’s up? You finishing her off?’

  ‘No,’ Tam said. ‘She was just trying to help, that’s all.’

  Becca scoffed.

  Tam, rage boiling behind her eyes, turned on Becca. ‘She was just trying to help.’

  ‘She’s bloody Long Bone.’

  Tam reddened. ‘Say you’re sorry.’

  Becca’s eyes widened. ‘What?’

  ‘You heard.’

  ‘To . . . to her?’

  Tam nodded firmly.

  ‘Bugger off.’ Becca laughed nervously. ‘She’s a freak, Tam. C’mon, let’s—’

  ‘Apologize.’ Tam stepped closer, raising herself up, her face set.

  ‘Don’t see why. I didn’t do nothing wrong.’

  ‘Apologize.’

  Becca opened her mouth to protest, then thought better of it. ‘Sorry,’ she mumbled, barely audible. She glanced up at Tam. ‘Are we going home or not?’

  ‘No. You should go back to class. I’ll be there in a minute.’

  Becca grumbled. ‘This is crap, Tam. You’re ill, so we can go home.’

  ‘I’m better now.’

  ‘But . . .’

  Tam stared at her friend until she backed down and made for the door, still muttering to herself.

  Once Becca had gone Tam turned to face Abigail, who looked as stunned and surprised as Becca had.

  ‘You’re OK?’ Tam asked again.

  Abigail nodded.

  ‘Good. Can you meet me tonight? In the wood?’

  SEVEN

  Becca didn’t wait for Tam after school. Tight-jawed, fists clenched, she stormed out of the main gate, pushing past anyone in her way.

  She marched home, muttering and cursing, angry at Tam’s rejection of her. They’d fallen out before, plenty of times, but never in front of someone like Long Bone. This was something new.

  Becca sensed the familiar feeling of helplessness building up inside her, a storm front of emotion bringing with it tears of loneliness. She would not allow it to grow. The only way she knew how to deal with it was to let the energy out.

  She ran the rest of the way home and charged at the front door. It was locked, as usual, so she fumbled for her key then kicked it open.

  Her bag clattered on the wooden floor as she charged into the kitchen and attacked the fridge. She pulled at a can of Coke, downed half of it then threw it in the sink, splashing the dark liquid all over the worktop and floor.

  As sweat cooled her brow, she paced the tiny kitchen, then she opened the back door and went into the garden. In the middle of the patchwork grass Becca stood and screamed.

  She stopped to catch her breath and heard the old couple next door muttering to each other.

  ‘That bloody girl again.’

  ‘She’s got a screw loose.’

  Becca kicked at the fence, shouting, ‘Piss off!’

  The voices next door became silent, just a lone tut in response.

  Calmer now, Becca returned to the house. She could think again. She went to the cupboard where she knew her mum stashed her gin. She took out the bottle, unscrewed the top and took a small sip from it. Not too much so that her mum would notice, just enough to take the edge off the day.

  Better.

  She returned the bottle to the cupboard and retreated to her room. Becca checked her makeup before taking a picture of herself smiling triumphantly, then posting it on Snapchat with the strapline, Fab Day.

  She was quickly into her usual routine: having multiple conversations with anyone who would listen – it didn’t matter if she liked them or not, or if they liked her. She exaggerated her life, making it sound more exciting than it was, hiding behind the wall she had made for herself online. She was like one of those dead trees in the wood near the estate; from the outside she looked happy, full of life, but inside she was hollow and rotting. She felt like she was an actor playing out her part. No one really knew what she was like behind the mask, not even Tam.

  There was a time when this had made her feel better, wallowing in Likes and Follows, but not any more. Now it was just a beast that needed feeding. But she couldn’t stop – she had to let Tam know that she wasn’t bothered, that she wasn’t upset. Tam would see her feed and respond eventually; she had to.

  In the meantime, Becca thought about Abigail Long Bone. What was going on there? Why the sudden interest in Tam? Things were changing, and she hated that. They were about to leave school and she really didn’t know what she was going to do next. More education? An apprenticeship? Neither option seemed very exciting. The last few years had been comfortable . . . predictable. A steady, unchanging routine that she never thought she’d miss. But now, as she stood on the edge of uncertainty, she wanted more of that boring repetition. At least then she wouldn’t feel so scared of the future. She knew she wasn’t as bright as people like Long Bone, the sort of people who’d get a bunch of GCSEs, then do well at sixth form college, go on to university, get good jobs in banks and offices. Hell, even Tam was brighter than her; she just didn’t know it yet.

  Becca feared she might lose Tam eventually, but this was way too soon. She’d thought they’d have a couple more years before they drifted apart, enough time for Becca to find someone else . . .

  Right now though, she needed Tam, someone to help define who she was. Without her . . . well, she was nothing. She was just a scared empty girl with a big grin to keep the rest of the world out. Becca tried to imagine life without Tam. It was too much. She wasn’t ready to lose her best friend, not yet. And she was damned if she was going to lose her to Long Bone.

  EIGHT

  ‘You’re in early,’ Tam said, surprised to see Mum already there when she got home after school.

  ‘Took the day off. We’ve been to the doctor’s,’ Mum shouted from somewhere in the house. ‘I told you.’

  Tam followed her mum’s voice to the kitchen. She was at the sink, peeling potatoes. Tam took a cold drink from the fridge and almost emptied the bottle in one gasp.

  ‘You drink like an animal,’ Mum muttered.

  Tam wiped her chin and put the bottle on the worktop. ‘What are you cooking? I’m starving.’

  ‘Pie and chips, be a while yet thou
gh.’

  ‘I'll get something quick now,’ Tam said as she stared into the fridge. ‘I'm going round Abigail's to revise.’

  ‘Who?’

  Tam sighed. ‘Abigail Long Bone . . . Longbourne.’

  Mum looked up from the potatoes. ‘You've never mentioned her before.’

  ‘God, Mum, I've told you about her loads of times.’

  ‘But I’m making tea. We’re going to sit down and go through everything.’

  ‘Go through everything?’

  ‘With your dad, Tam. We can’t keep putting it off. We have to—’

  Tam tensed. ‘I’m not putting it off. It’s just . . .’

  Mum put down the knife and washed her hands. ‘It’s just what?’

  ‘Mum, I’ve got my final exams, I’ve got to figure out what to do after school and you keep going on at me about getting a holiday job.’ Her voice rose with the tension.

  ‘You’re going to sixth form college after school, that’s all sorted. And a little job’d help. You’d have a bit of money for yourself and it’d keep you busy over the summer. You know it’s going to be tight.’ Mum’s voice grew harder, an angry edge to it. ‘Dad won’t be able to work and I can’t do everything.’ She turned away, looking out of the window.

  ‘No one’s asked you to do everything. I can look after myself.’

  Mum whipped round, her face red. ‘No one’s asked? You’re right, they didn’t, and I didn’t ask for all of this either. But no one helps, do they? You reckon you can look after yourself? You’re gonna do your own washing? And cooking? And cleaning? Are you gonna pay the bills and take your dad for his treatments, and go to work at a shitty little job where no one cares who the hell I am?’

  Mum covered her mouth with her hands, as if she was trying to stop the words from coming out, and she began to sob.

  Tam stepped closer, uncertain what to do. ‘Mum . . .’

  Her mother held up a hand, keeping Tam away. ‘I’m sorry,’ she said, her voice trembling. ‘I didn’t mean to . . . it’s not your fault, love.’ She forced a smile. ‘It just gets to me sometimes.’ She shook her head, half laughing as she wiped her cheeks with the edge of her hands. ‘I’m bloody stupid, aren’t I?’

  Tam felt frustration turn into anger. She said nothing, keeping her feelings contained, waiting to see what Mum did next.

  ‘Where does this Abigail live?’ Mum asked with a casual smile.

  ‘Just up past the wood,’ Tam guessed.

  ‘How long will you be?’

  ‘Couple of hours.’

  Mum sighed heavily. ‘OK, I’ll hold off tea till you get in.’

  ‘No, you and Dad have it. I’ll just warm it up.’

  ‘We’ll wait,’ Mum said firmly.

  Tam knew better than to argue further.

  Her mum looked at her. ‘Come here.’ She held up her arms to her daughter.

  ‘Mum, I’ve got to go.’

  ‘Come here,’ Mum smiled. She wasn’t giving in.

  Groaning, Tam stepped closer and allowed Mum to hug her. She stood there, feeling the warmth of Mum’s arms wrapped around her. After a moment she felt confined, smothered in affection.

  ‘Mum . . .’

  ‘OK, OK,’ Mum conceded, releasing her with a kiss to her cheek. ‘You look a bit pale. You’re OK?’

  Tam stuffed a slice of bread into her mouth, talking between mouthfuls. ‘I’m fine, Mum, just got lots to do.’

  ‘Well, we need to talk as well. Your dad’s got a lot to go through and we need to get organized.’

  ‘Later,’ Tam promised as she headed out of the kitchen.

  ‘Not too late,’ Mum called after her, adding, ‘Love you,’ as Tam disappeared out of the door.

  It felt good to get outside; the heat of summer made it feel claustrophobic at home.

  No, that wasn’t it, not really. It was everything else, weighing down on Tam’s shoulders, too much at once, threatening to break her. Just being outside, away from Mum and Dad, walking alone, felt better.

  Tam had never been an outdoors sort of person. She liked to be with friends, to talk, to laugh, to gossip, and she loved being online. She couldn’t imagine being disconnected, away from wi-fi or a decent phone signal. Not until recently, anyway. Now the noise was too much for her. She needed time to be quiet, to know what she thought.

  Was that what had brought her to the wood in the first place? The need for solitude, to be left alone to think? She wasn’t sure.

  The sun pressed on her back through the thin shirt of her uniform, kissing her neck and close-cut hair. She killed the music she was listening to and took her earbuds out, stopping for a moment. The shouting birds bracketed the silence, but their voices were softer than before, less harsh today. The drone of cars was distant, just a memory of technology. She inhaled; the mixed scent of freshly cut grass and the petrol fumes of a lawnmower was strongest, but beneath it was the perfume of a dozen different flowers that she couldn’t identify, all squabbling for dominance.

  She stood at the edge of the field, the brown and grey rectangles of the estate to her back. In front of her, down the slope of a gentle hill, was the wood, its perimeter like a jagged wall broken only by the narrow winding path that allowed access to its interior.

  Tam felt an odd sensation of warmth overcome her, like she was visiting a well-loved place, somewhere safe and forgiving, somewhere that wouldn’t judge her. She stepped onto the path and entered the wood.

  The air was cooler under the shadow of the trees, a gentle breeze tickling the branches. The earth was still damp in places but the track was firm underfoot. She paused for a moment, taking it in. It seemed as if the birds had stopped their chatter as well, observing her passing.

  The silence thickened.

  She hesitated, waiting for something. A breeze whispered past her, making her shiver, and she continued along the path.

  Ahead she saw the old wall, losing its battle with the roots and branches of the wood, and next to it was Abigail. She had changed out of her uniform into a pair of jeans and a plain T-shirt. Her black hair, normally constricted in a tight ponytail, was loose, resting over her shoulders, framing her sharp face. She looked older, more confident, standing with her arms folded as she waited for Tam to approach her.

  ‘Hi,’ Tam said with a smile, feeling nervous.

  ‘What do you want?’ Abigail asked, her voice cool and formal. She was in charge here.

  Tam faltered, taken aback by Abigail’s tone.

  ‘You ask me here,’ Abigail continued, ‘after threatening to kill me—’

  ‘I never said that.’

  ‘You did! You said if I talk about this to anyone you’d kill me. And you pushed me to the ground. You made yourself very clear. Then your bloody friend does the same to me in the toilets. And now what? You want to talk?’

  Tam blushed. ‘Well, yeah. I’ve got to talk to someone.’

  ‘So I’ll have to do?’

  Tam paused, thinking of turning away. This was a stupid idea. But just thinking of home brought her anger bubbling up. She took a breath and said, ‘Abigail, I’m sorry I said that. I wasn’t thinking straight. I wasn’t thinking at all. And I didn’t mean it. And I’m sorry for how Becca treated you.’

  Abigail snorted.

  ‘Look, I need your help. Can we maybe just start again?’

  Abigail looked her up and down. ‘How can I trust you?’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘You lie, Tam. So how can I trust you now?’

  Tam shifted her weight from one foot to another, thinking. ‘Hell, I don’t know.’

  Abigail began to laugh.

  ‘What’s funny?’ Tam asked.

  ‘That was an honest answer. A bad answer, but at least it was honest.’

  Tam smiled back, some of the tension between them easing. ‘Look, I have to trust you as well. You’re the only one who knows about . . . you know . . . the thing.’

  ‘The flying?’

  Tam grinned
involuntarily. ‘Yeah, that.’ It sounded ridiculous when she heard it out loud.

  ‘It really happened, didn’t it?’ Abigail asked, her eyes full of hope.

  ‘Yeah, I think it did,’ Tam confirmed.

  Abigail stared at Tam, as if she was weighing up all her options. Eventually she said, ‘You’re not going to threaten me any more?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Or hit me? Or push me over?’

  ‘No. I’m sorry, OK?’

  ‘Or take the piss out of me at school? Or ignore me?’

  ‘I promise I won’t. Fresh start.’

  Abigail thought for a moment, then her face broke into a broad smile. ‘C’mon, let’s go sit on the bridge over the stream.’

  She turned and led the way along the path, looking over her shoulder to check Tam was keeping up.

  ‘You know this place well,’ Tam noted.

  ‘Course. Been coming here for years. You?’

  ‘Not since I was little. Yesterday was the first time.’

  Abigail took them off the main path, deeper into the wood. The familiar babble of the stream caught Tam’s ears as an old metal bridge came into view.

  ‘No one comes here,’ Abigail said as she sat on the wooden boards, letting her feet swing beneath the rickety structure. ‘Well, hardly anyone comes here. Just me – and a few druggies last year, but they’ve not been back in a while.’

  Tam sat next to her, watching the tiny gully of water passing under the bridge, drifting idly into the wood. The sun picked out little spots of yellow light in amongst the patchwork of greens and browns spread out in front of her. At first the wood seemed like a mess of dirty greens, nothing more. But the longer she looked the more colour she saw, tiny gifts of red and blue and purple waiting to be found. There was no hint of the nearby estate here, not even a whisper of people or cars. It felt like they were a thousand miles away from all her problems. She closed her eyes, listening to the water, and smiled.

  ‘So . . .’ Abigail said, her voice harmonizing with the stream. ‘What did you want to talk about?’

  Tam laughed. ‘What do you think I want to talk about?’

  Abigail didn’t reply.

  Tam turned to face her. ‘OK, I have to know. Yesterday . . . what exactly happened?’