Jake's Tower

by Elizabeth Laird

  But I can’t see him at all. The face that was as real to me as my own has disappeared and in its place there’s nothing. There’s no one there at all.

  I can’t stay off school for ever, and it’ll take weeks for my face to go back to normal. Anyway, I’ve been on my own in the house with Mrs Judd for three days now, and I’m starting to go potty.

  It’s not that I don’t like her. I do. There’s lots of good things about her, like the way she stands up for herself, and the way she sticks up for my dad, as if she was a big mamma dog with one naughty puppy. She’s strong, and kind at the same time. Solid. I like that.

  I like it best when she talks about my dad. I get her to tell me things all the time.

  The best bits are about all the things he did when he was my age. Once he stuck two massive Brazil nuts into his nose, so that one dangled down out of each nostril, and waited to see how long it would be before anyone noticed. He kept on coming into the kitchen, where Mrs Judd was cooking, and going outside to where his dad was fixing the gate, and they kept on not looking at him.

  In the end, they were all sitting round the table for their tea, and Mrs Judd said, ‘Eat your fish pie, Danny, what’s the matter with you?’ and they still hadn’t noticed anything. And there was this laugh building up inside my dad, building and building, and it came bursting out. And one of the Brazil nuts shot across the table and pinged on the pie dish, and the other one dropped into Mr Judd’s cup of tea. And Mr Judd said, ‘Mother, where did this Brazil nut come from?’ and they both looked up at the ceiling, as if nuts were raining down from on high. And my dad, when he got over laughing, said, ‘That just proves it. I could turn into an Eskimo, and you’d never know the difference.’

  But it’s kind of tiring being around Mrs Judd for too long. She keeps fetching me things to eat, like she was fattening me up for Christmas. You can see she’s not used to other people being in her house. It fusses her. She picks up the cushions after I’ve got up from the sofa and plumps them up again, and she follows me halfway up the stairs to remind me about not tripping up on the loose rug at the top.

  Maybe all grandmas are like Mrs Judd. Perhaps grandads are too. If ever I get to be a grandad, that’s probably what I’ll be like.

  Mum doesn’t want me to go back to school yet. She keeps saying they’ll be on to me, and she hasn’t spent all these years ducking and diving and keeping her head down, to keep me out of care, only to have them whip me off her and stick me in a children’s home now.

  Sometimes, when it’s been really bad with Steve, I’ve wished she hadn’t been so careful. I don’t know if I wouldn’t rather have been in a children’s home, sometimes. When she talks about Willowbank, where she was, it doesn’t sound that bad. They had a lot of laughs, the way she tells it, and the person who ran it, Auntie Jean, was really nice.

  I’d have been miserable without Mum, though. I know that. Especially when I was younger. Steve’s always knocked me about, ever since I can remember, and her too, a bit, but he wasn’t like this, he wasn’t murderous, till a couple of years ago, after I got so tall.

  I had a go at Mum about school this morning, till she gave in.

  ‘I’ll tell them I fell off my bike,’ I said. ‘It worked with Kieran. Anyway, I’ve always got round it before. They never see my bruises. When it’s PE I change in the corner, where it’s dark.’

  She bit her lip then, and Mrs Judd, who was listening, frowned so hard her big black brows met in the middle.

  ‘Anyway,’ I said, ‘if I don’t go back today, we’ll have to get a doctor’s letter or they’ll send the truant officer round, have you thought of that?’

  The best thing about going back to school was the first bit, just getting out of the house and running down the road on my own. I’d started to feel like a prisoner in Mrs Judd’s house.

  I had a narrow escape, though. Mum had gone off to work first, and Mrs Judd said, ‘You don’t know your way to school, do you, Jake? I’d better come with you. Wait while I lock up the back door.’

  I said, really quickly, ‘It’s OK. I’ve been round this way loads of times. I know where to go, honestly,’ and I picked up my bag and made a dash for it, out of the house and down the street, before she could turn around.

  I got lost at once, of course. But it didn’t matter because there were loads of kids wearing my school uniform on the main street, down at the bottom of Sunnybrook Road, where Mrs Judd’s house is, so I just followed them.

  When I got near the school gate I stopped and had a good look round, in case Steve was hanging about, but I didn’t see him, so I went on in.

  I was worried, though, by how everyone kept on about my face. It was things like, ‘Wow, Jake, what does the other guy look like?’ and, ‘When’s the next big fight, Jake? Can we come and watch?’

  I kept saying, ‘Fell off my bike. Ran into a tree, didn’t I.’

  Luckily I bumped into Kieran first thing, and he went around with me all through break and lunchtime, as if I was a kind of star and he was my minder, and he said to them all, ‘Yeah, you should have seen the bike. It’s a write-off.’

  Mrs McLeish was the nosy one. She was the one that worried me. She kept me behind after English.

  ‘What happened to your face, Jake?’ she said, looking all concerned, as if she was a nurse or something.

  ‘Fell off my bike, Miss,’ I said.

  ‘What? Speak up. I can’t hear you.’

  ‘Ran my bike into a tree. It was my fault. Wasn’t looking where I was going.’

  She was fiddling with her necklace.

  ‘Everything all right at home, Jake? You live with your mum and your stepfather, don’t you? Do you get along with him all right? With your stepfather?’

  I shrugged. This was a mistake because it hurt the whacking great bruise I’d still got on my ribs, and she noticed.

  ‘He’s OK. Can I go now, Miss?’

  ‘What happened to your bike?’ She was looking at me all the time, really hard, and I could feel my hands start to go sweaty.

  ‘Write-off, wasn’t it, Miss,’ I said. ‘All mashed up.’

  ‘So what did you do with it?’

  I wasn’t ready for this.

  ‘What do you mean?’ I was trying to think.

  ‘I mean, Jake, what did you do with your bike?’

  ‘I left it there, beside the road.’

  ‘What about the bits on it, I mean, didn’t you have a D-lock on it, or a front lamp? Did you just leave those on it too?’

  I was feeling the pressure now.

  ‘Don’t know, Miss. I don’t remember. My head felt funny.’

  ‘I bet it did.’ She was sounding really sympathetic, but it felt threatening to me. ‘What did the doctor say?’

  ‘I didn’t go.’ I couldn’t look at her, and I just kept licking my lips. ‘Mum said I needed time off in bed, that was all.’

  ‘I see.’ She was nodding her head, up and down, like a bleeding mechanical toy. ‘I’ll give your mum a ring. Just to check everything’s OK.’

  ‘No!’ I had a picture in my head, like a flash, of the phone ringing in our flat, and Steve picking it up, and all hell breaking loose. ‘You can’t phone Mum. She’ll be at work.’

  ‘After work, then,’ she said. ‘It’s OK, Jake. Look, it’s nothing to worry about. I just want to make sure you’re all right, that’s all.’

  ‘We’ve moved house,’ I said, trying to keep the panic out of my voice. ‘We’re staying with my grandma. She’s not very well. We’re looking after her. She’s not to be bothered. There’s no one in our flat. My stepdad’s gone away. I don’t know where he is.’

  ‘Right.’ She was looking dead suspicious, and I knew I’d said too much. ‘What’s your grandma’s name, Jake? What’s her phone number?’

  ‘She’s not on the phone.’ I was feeling really desperate. ‘Got cut off last week.’

  ‘What’s her address, then? You must know where you’re living. You must know your grandma’s name.�
��

  I had another flash, a picture of Mrs Judd standing on the doorstep of her house, with her arms folded across her chest, and Mrs McLeish and a couple of policemen trying to force their way past her to get in and take me away.

  But she wouldn’t let them, I thought. She’d see them off. She’d send the lot of them packing, and I felt this stupid grin spreading across my face.

  ‘My grandma’s name is Mrs Judd,’ I said, ‘and she lives at 16 Sunnybrook Road.’

  All this stuff with Mrs McLeish got me worried, and that made me careless. I forgot Steve might be waiting around after school. Earlier on, I’d planned how I’d go out of school by the back way, down by the brewery, and work up to the main road through the side streets, but it was such a habit, going out of the main entrance, that I did it without thinking. There I was, walking out of the big front gates with my head down, hands in pockets, not even noticing everyone else rushing past me, when I ran smack into him.

  I tell you, it was one of the worst moments of my life.

  Everything inside me went still and I thought I was going to pass out. Then my heart gave this powerful kick, like an animal was jumping inside my chest, and my knees began to shake.

  I tried, in a stupid, weak kind of way to dodge past him, but he just moved sideways and blocked me. Quick on his feet, is Steve. I’ve never been able to get away from him. I knew I wouldn’t this time, so I gave up trying.

  ‘Come with me, you.’

  He took my arm and tried to pull me away, up the road. My eyes were darting around, looking for a way out, and I saw Mrs McLeish by the school gate. She was standing there with Mr Grossmith, the head of PE. They were staring in our direction. I saw her point me out to him, and Mr Grossmith started staring at us too. They made me feel a little bit braver.

  ‘Can’t,’ I said. ‘Just remembered. I’ve got football practice. I’ve got to go back in.’

  ‘Football? Since when did you know how to kick a football?’

  His voice had the edge in it that I dreaded.

  I didn’t say anything else, I couldn’t, but I went on looking towards Mrs McLeish and Mr Grossmith and Steve turned his head too, and saw them watching us. He dropped his hand off my arm at once and took a step backwards, then he ran his fingers through his hair and looked at me in a different way, as if he was seeing me properly for the first time.

  ‘What happened to your face?’ he said. ‘Ran into a bus?’

  I couldn’t believe it. He’d beaten my head in and half killed me and probably scarred me for life and he’d blanked it out. Just like that.

  I didn’t say anything. I stood there and looked at him.

  A weird thing happened then. For the first time ever I saw something like shame in Steve’s face. Or it could have been regret. It was over in a flash.

  ‘I only want to talk to you,’ he said, and it was almost as if there was a whine in his voice. ‘I only want to know where she is.’

  I was getting worried because the flow of people coming out of the gates was slowing down. In a minute they’d all be round the corner, at the bus stops, and Mrs McLeish and Mr Grossmith would go back inside the gates and I’d be alone with him.

  I’d been backing away slowly, and then I saw my chance. A bunch of loudmouths from the year above me were coming up behind me, pulling the straps of each others’ bags and doing headlocks and football type tackles. I zipped round behind them and got back in through the school gates while they were all dodging about in Steve’s way.

  I heard him shout, ‘No one ever runs out on me, do you hear me? No one!’ But I didn’t look back. I was racing off down the side of the games field.

  Mr Grossmith was calling after me now.

  ‘Jake? Where are you going? Come here, Jake!’

  I stopped for him. I didn’t want to, but I reckoned he’d start nosing around me tomorrow if I didn’t. Anyway, I like Mr Grossmith.

  ‘Left my sweatshirt on the steps outside the library, sir,’ I said. ‘Can I go now, sir?’

  I didn’t wait for an answer. I made a quick detour round in front of the library, in case he was watching, then I legged it under the cover of the trees at the edge of the field to the back gate. It was locked, of course. It always is, but you can get over it in half a second if you put one foot on the crossbar and take care with the barbed wire running along the top.

  It took me a good ten minutes to get back up to the main road, and I felt safe all that time. I knew Steve couldn’t have followed me. But once I was out on the shopping street, with crowds of people going past and buses running up and down, I wasn’t so sure. I had that funny feeling, that prickly weird feeling, that eyes were on me. Following me.

  I went into a newsagent and stood just inside the door and watched the street for a long time, pretending I was waiting for someone. I didn’t see anything. There wasn’t even anyone out there in the street who looked like Steve.

  I guessed I’d been imagining things, and I walked on quickly, back to Mrs Judd’s.

  I never used to think about families, about being in one, and what it would be like, but now I’ve got a grandma and a real dad, even if he’s only in a photograph, it’s kind of set me off. It makes things complicated because you have to make room for more people in your mind. I’d better get used to it because when the baby comes, there’ll be another new person, and there’ll be a whole lot more stuff that’s going to happen.

  I was scared before, when I thought about the baby. I don’t know what I feel now.

  My dream house has changed, anyway. The tower’s still there, in case I need it, but I won’t have my bed in it. There’s going to be more like an ordinary house, but big and beautiful, special and different. There’ll easily be enough space for the four of us, for my mum and dad and the baby and me. Because we’d all be living in it together, like a real family.

  I’d have a brilliant room of course, with loads of stuff, all the things I could ever want. And there’d be a big window looking out across the strip of sea towards the land, because we’d still be on an island. Oh, yes, that’s good, the island idea.

  My mum and dad would have the same bedroom, a big one, with white furniture and huge windows to let all the sunshine in. And my baby sister would have a little room off theirs, with the sorts of things she’d like, teddies and flowery stuff and everything pink.

  We’d go out together in the evening, when the parrots fly above the forest, to watch the chimps and gorillas, and Mum and Dad would hold hands, and I’d carry the baby, and I’d pick the golden apples for her as the sun went down.

  Mrs Judd would live nearby, not too close, in a little guardhouse by the jetty where the boats come in. Her chair (the one with the wooden arms) would be pulled up near a window so she could watch out and see who was trying to get on to the island. She’d send them away if she didn’t like the look of them.

  She’d have her pots and pans too, and a great big kitchen. On Sundays we’d go down to her place and she’d cook us a slap-up roast with all the trimmings. And one of her crumbles for afters.

  We’d just finished our supper (bangers and mash with ice cream to follow) when the knock came on the door. Mrs Judd had gone into the toilet, as it happened, so Mum answered it. I knew, in the second before she opened it, who would be standing there, and I called out, ‘Don’t, Mum! Wait!’ But I was too late.

  Steve had been in the pub. His face was red and I could smell the beer on his breath from halfway down the hall. I wanted to turn round and dash out through the kitchen and out of the back door, but I didn’t. I could see that Mum was sort of shrivelling up, going weak and soft like she always did with Steve. I was afraid he’d twist her round his finger again and I knew I couldn’t just run away and let it happen.

  Steve didn’t say anything for a moment. He just stood there, staring at Mum, balling his fists and tightening his jaw till I could see all the muscles in his neck standing out like ropes.

  ‘Cow. You cow.’ His voice wasn’t slurred. He wasn�
��t drunk, just a bit tanked up, enough to make him even nastier than usual. ‘Where is he? Get him out here.’

  Mum was trying to stiffen herself, and when she spoke her voice came out high and squeaky.

  ‘Naff off, Steve. We’re out of it, Jake and me. You nearly killed him.’ She turned and grabbed my arm and hauled me out on to the step beside her. ‘Look at that. Look at what you did to his face. Bloody psycho. I’ve had enough.’

  She tried to shut the door. Steve stuck his foot in it. He wasn’t looking at me.

  ‘Not him. Lover boy. Your lover boy. Danny. Where’s Danny?’

  ‘Danny?’ Mum tossed her head back. ‘Him? I haven’t seen him since he dumped me. Don’t care if I never see him again. And that goes for you too.’

  Steve lunged forward, shoved the door wide open, grabbed her by the shoulders and started shaking her.

  I was crying now, feeling as helpless as a baby, just standing there, clawing uselessly at his arm. He kicked out sideways and caught me on my shin with the toe of his boot. I staggered back down the hall.

  ‘Mrs Judd!’ I yelled. ‘Grandma! Come quick. Steve’s killing my mum!’

  The toilet flushed upstairs and Mrs Judd came out. She walked down the stairs at her usual speed, drying her hands on a towel.

  Steve saw her and his face changed. He was still holding Mum, but he wasn’t shaking her any more.

  ‘Stop that, Steven,’ Mrs Judd said. ‘Let go of Marie. You ought to be ashamed of yourself.’

  She sounded like a teacher ticking off a five-year-old kid. Steve dropped his hands.

  ‘Hiding him, are you, your precious Danny?’ He was trying to sound hard but he wasn’t so sure of himself now. ‘Under the bed, is he? I’m coming in. I’m going to kill him.’

  I was still hopping about clutching my shin, but I was starting to feel a bit less scared. Mrs Judd went to stand beside Mum, making Steve drop back off the doorstep.

  ‘You’re not setting foot in this house, Steven Barlow,’ she said.

  She wasn’t shouting or anything. She was calm and sort of solid.