Jake's Tower

by Elizabeth Laird

  ‘Danny, you’re so awful. OK, they’re nice. They’re lovely. But next time don’t spring it on me, all right?’

  ‘Next time?’ Dad said, mopping his forehead. ‘You think I’m going to buy you a three-piece suite every ten minutes? Think I’m made of money? Give over, girl.’

  They actually smiled at each other.

  Mum hadn’t asked Dad to stay to supper, but he did anyway. He phoned Grandma and told her he wouldn’t be back till late and he went out and got a Chinese.

  We sat on the new sofa while we ate it and watched the new telly, and Dad and I washed up in the kitchen from the mended tap and put the plates away in the freshly painted cupboard.

  ‘You’ll do all right now, Jake,’ he said, when we’d finished. ‘And I’ll be back down again in three weeks for a long weekend.’

  I couldn’t help shivering then. It wasn’t just the fear of what might happen when he wasn’t there to protect us any more. It was the thought of being without him again, of losing him, of him slipping away, back into the world he’d lived in before we found each other, back into his life without me.

  ‘Oh, and there’s something else.’ He went out to where his coat was hanging on the peg behind the front door, pulled something out of the pocket, and put it into my hand. ‘A mobile. Keep it with you. I’ve programmed my number into it. Any time, anywhere you need me, I’ll be listening on the other end. If you’re in trouble, if you’re afraid, I’ll be in my car and on my way. Three hours door-to-door it takes me. Day and night. Don’t forget.’

  There are shadows everywhere. They run round the spaces near our flats and spread down our street. There are dark places by the dustbins and behind the doors, under the stairs and beside the garages, places where someone could lie in wait. And in the lane, between the flats and the railway bridge, there are trees and walls and parked cars. A man could hide in so many places, easily.

  I get goose bumps quite a lot. If I see a man in the distance who reminds me of him, or if I hear someone coming up behind me, footsteps in the dark, my blood runs cold and then my heart goes wild, jumping around like a mad kangaroo.

  When that happens, what I do is this. I put my hand in my pocket and hold on to my mobile phone. Just feeling it is good. Dad is miles and miles away. He couldn’t ever get to me in time, but even if he was only there on the end of the line, just his voice, nothing more, and if someone was trying to get me, it would help. I think it would, anyway.

  The worst part was the three or four days after Dad went back up the M6. Kieran had a bug or something, and he was off school, so I had to go and come home on my own.

  Until we ran away that night, and started living with Grandma, I hadn’t realized what it was like, not being afraid. I’d got used to it at her place, to an open kind of feeling, free, and peaceful and lovely.

  Why do I feel scared again, now that Steve’s away in Bristol, and there’s a court injunction out on him, and my grandma’s nearby, like a tigress in the bushes, and I’ve got my mobile phone? I can’t help it, that’s why. I can’t get over the feeling that he might sneak back and jump out on me, his face set hard as metal and his eyes like ice. And when I’m alone, outside in the street, I remember the window cleaner’s bucket, and the soapy water streaking up into the air, and the way it landed full on him and ruined his clothes, and how he looked at me. That’s when I shake, and my knees feel weak.

  Steve’s like a nightmare. You can wake up and tell yourself that he’s not there any more, but he is. The fear stays in your head. It comes back to you even when things are fine, in the middle of the day, when you least expect it.

  I don’t think I’ll ever be rid of Steve. I’m afraid he’ll be in my head for ever.

  Mum was in a panic when I got home. She’d wrenched the door open before I’d had time to turn the key in the lock.

  ‘Where have you been? What the hell have you been up to?’

  ‘Sorry, Mum.’ I couldn’t understand it. She wasn’t like this usually if I was late home from school. Often, she wasn’t there herself. ‘I was playing football with Kieran.’

  I dropped my bag on the floor and tried to hang my jacket up, but it fell off the peg.

  ‘Pick that lot up,’ she said, ‘and get into your bedroom and sort the mess out. She’s coming round.’

  ‘Who? Who’s coming round?’

  ‘Mrs Judd. Who do you think? The Queen of Sheba? She phoned up. Said could she come over this afternoon.’

  ‘That’s great!’ I was pleased. ‘She hasn’t even seen the flat yet. I want to show her what Dad and me did in my bedroom. We haven’t seen her for ages.’

  ‘Ages? We only moved back in here last week. I knew she’d be round sooner or later. Thought I’d have a bit longer though before she descended.’

  ‘You don’t mind, do you, Mum?’ I stood by the kitchen door watching her. She was hunting around in the cupboard looking for something. ‘I mean, you like her, don’t you?’

  ‘Yes! No! You and your questions! I was going to ask her round myself. Later on. She’s got me all worked up landing herself on me like this. I’m not ready for it. Where are those perishing biscuits? I had a whole packet of them in here last week. Oh my God. That’s it. There’s the door. She’s here.’

  I dived passed her to open it. I couldn’t wait to see my grandma, to show her everything. Just to see her again.

  She was standing on the step in her brown coat with a big shopping bag in her hand and a curious, half nervous look on her face.

  ‘Hello, Jake, dear,’ she said in a bright voice.

  She looked back down the stairs before she stepped inside. I could see why. The stairs in our building are disgusting, what with Mrs Fletcher’s cats, and the trail of rubbish she leaves every time she takes her bags out to the bins.

  Mum had darted into her room, and she came out a few minutes after Grandma had stepped inside with a different jumper on. I could feel she was tense too. She had a don’t-pick-a-fight-with-me look on her face.

  I can’t believe the way Mum’s changed since Steve left. She never used to say much before, not even when he wasn’t around. But now, especially with Grandma, she’ll say whatever comes into her head. It’s as if a bottle’s been corked up inside her, and now all the stuff is foaming out of it.

  Grandma doesn’t seem to mind. She likes a good old barney. She took off her coat and watched me hang it up on the peg, then she followed me into the sitting room, picking her feet up and hanging on to her bag.

  When she got in through the door and looked round at everything, at the new suite and the plants Mum keeps on the windowsill, the little dog vase that Steve hadn’t smashed, and the net curtains tied back with bows, I could see she was really, really surprised.

  ‘It’s very nice,’ she said. ‘You keep everything nice, Marie.’

  Mum fired up at once.

  ‘What did you expect? Rats in the kitchen? Fleas in the carpet?’

  Grandma looked flustered.

  ‘Of course not. Here, I’ve got something for you. A house-warming present as you might say.’

  Mum calmed down at once. She’s always like that with presents. Really excited. Like me at Christmas when I was five, before I knew any better.

  Grandma fumbled in her bag and brought out a box in a plastic bag. She was about to hand it over to Mum when some other stuff fell out too, a bottle of Flash and a scrubbing brush. She bent down quickly and scooped them back into her bag again.

  ‘What are those for, Grandma?’ I nearly said. ‘Are you going off cleaning somewhere?’ but my guardian angel told me to keep my trap shut, because I’d seen Grandma’s face, and I’d twigged. She’d come all ready to clean up our flat. She’d thought the place would be a dirty dump and she was planning to give it a going-over.

  She caught my eye and I saw that she’d gone red. She’d nearly put her foot in it so badly it would have stuck in the mud for ever. She knew it too.

  Luckily, Mum didn’t see a thing. She’d taken the
plastic bag out of Grandma’s hands, pulled the box open and was taking the lid off.

  ‘Oh!’ she gasped. ‘It’s lovely!’

  She took it out carefully and put it on her knee. I could see it was the sort of thing she liked, a pretty, decoration kind of thing. It was a little statue, made of white china, of a woman with a baby in her arms.

  ‘It’s lovely,’ she said again.

  Grandma looked pleased and relieved and satisfied all at once.

  ‘Thought it would get you in the mood,’ she said, ‘for the baby and that.’

  ‘Yes. Well.’ Mum put the statue carefully down on the sofa beside her. ‘I’m trying not to think about it, to be honest. Got enough on my plate. It’s not that easy managing on your own.’

  Grandma actually leaned over and patted her hand.

  ‘You’ll find someone else some day,’ she said. ‘Pretty girl like you.’

  ‘With my luck?’ Mum sighed. ‘Anyway, I’m not much of a picker, as it turns out, am I?’

  I was afraid Grandma mightn’t like that. I was afraid she’d think Mum was being rude about Dad, so I said, ‘Shall I put the kettle on?’

  Grandma started getting to her feet.

  ‘Let me.’

  ‘No!’ said Mum, flapping her hands, and frowning. ‘You’re supposed to be the visitor. This is my place, remember? You sit there and take the weight off your feet.’

  That was a bit close, I thought, because Grandma’s no fairy, but Mum didn’t mean to be rude. She was just getting her own back, I could see, for all the times she’d been bossed around in Grandma’s kitchen.

  I got on with it. I made the tea and set up the tray and took it into them. Grandma was dead impressed, I could tell.

  ‘Clever little cook, isn’t he?’ she said.

  ‘It’s only a cup of tea, Grandma,’ I said. ‘Have a biscuit.’

  Mum gave me a funny look. I knew she was wondering where I’d managed to find the packet. I wasn’t going to tell her right out loud that I’d fished it out from the back of the cupboard, under a load of old cartons. Grandma liked them anyway. She had three.

  ‘Have you heard from Danny at all?’ she said, brushing crumbs off her skirt. ‘I only ask because he hasn’t given me a ring this week.’

  She sounded almost as if she was going to be jealous.

  ‘Well,’ I said, talking cautiously in case she got upset. ‘He phoned me on my mobile a couple of times, but probably he was just trying it out to see if it worked.’

  ‘He called me up Thursday, to check if the maintenance had arrived,’ Mum said. ‘He’s being good about money, I’ll say that for him.’

  ‘He can afford it.’ Grandma took another sip of tea. ‘They earn a packet on those long overtime jobs. Better spending it on you than on wine, women and song.’

  ‘Song?’ Mum shook her head. ‘Danny? He can’t sing a note. Didn’t you ever hear him do “Dancing Queen”? Even the cats ran away.’

  I never know where I am with Mum and Grandma. One minute they’re on at each other, and the next they’re a couple of old buddies. They were both laughing now, leaning back and giving it everything.

  Then the phone rang. Mum jumped up and went outside. I listened at first, like I always do, in case it was Steve or Dad, but she said, ‘Oh, hello, Denise,’ so I stopped bothering.

  ‘Do you want to see my room, Grandma?’ I said. ‘It’s smashing. Dad and I painted it.’

  ‘Yes.’ She looked really keen. I knew she’d want a good look around. She’s nosy, but I don’t mind that. I like it, in her.

  Mum was putting the phone down when we went into the hall.

  ‘Who’s Denise?’ I said.

  ‘One of the girls from work.’ Grandma and I said nothing, so she had to go on. ‘There’s a gang of them going out on Saturday, down to the cinema.’

  I pushed past her. I was dying to show Grandma my room. But Grandma was still looking at Mum.

  ‘I hope you’re going with them,’ she said. ‘You’ll enjoy it.’

  Mum shook her head.

  ‘Why ever not?’ Grandma said.

  ‘She never goes out with other people, without—’ I stopped. It seemed indecent, somehow, to say Steve’s name now.

  Grandma understood, though.

  ‘Yes, but you can now, can’t you? It’ll do you good. Get you out of yourself. Broaden your horizons.’ She looked quite relieved to have a bit of bossing to do. ‘I’ll come and stay with Jake for you. Do him a bit of supper. Would you like that, Jake?’

  I had a sudden whiff in my nostrils of Grandma’s kitchen, of sizzling onions and roasting chicken, of creamy custard, and tangy fruit pie, and my mouth watered in spite of itself.

  ‘Can my mate Kieran come too?’ I said.

  ‘Here, hang on a minute. Who said I was going out anyway?’ said Mum.

  ‘Don’t, then,’ I said. ‘Stay in. We could have a bit of a party.’

  Some people wouldn’t think it was much of a party, just having one friend round and your grandma coming in to do the tea, but it felt like a party to me.

  It was the first time I’d ever had a friend come to our flat as long as I could remember. Or a friendly adult, come to think of it. Mum had never asked anyone in while Steve was around. It was like we’d lived in a kind of prison, with us shut in and the rest of the world kept out.

  Mum made her mind up in the end to go out with Denise and the others. Then she got in a state about it.

  ‘What do you think?’ she said to Grandma, who’d arrived hours too early. ‘This black skirt or the white trousers? They’re both too tight now really.’

  Grandma pursed her lips.

  ‘You’ll catch your death in that short skirt. Haven’t you got something warm? There’s a nasty wind out there.’

  In the end Mum wore the white trousers and a big red top that hid her stomach. She fluffed her hair out and put on sparkly earrings and sprayed herself with perfume.

  ‘You look great,’ I said.

  She’d dressed herself up sometimes to go out with Steve, but it had always been a worry. Too much make-up and he’d told her she looked like a tart. Not enough, and he’d said she didn’t take pride in herself and he’d go out on his own and leave her at home. Usually he hadn’t given her the option. He went out on his own anyway.

  ‘Do I look great? Really?’

  She turned round, staring at herself over her shoulder in the mirror.

  ‘Very nice,’ said Grandma, ‘but mind you don’t fall over in those stilettos. You won’t do the baby any good.’

  The baby’s going to be a real thing with Grandma, I can tell.

  Mum got herself off at last. I could see Grandma was relieved. She was dying to get into the kitchen and start on the cooking.

  She’d only just peeled the potatoes when the doorbell rang. I’d been waiting for Kieran so I dashed to get it.

  It wasn’t Kieran. It was two big men in long black coats. They pushed me aside and marched right in as if they owned the place. They smelled of violence. It made me feel sick.

  Grandma came out of the kitchen with a spoon in her hand.

  ‘Steve Barlow,’ one of the men said, sticking his chest out and standing too close to her. ‘Where is he?’

  Grandma wasn’t impressed.

  ‘What’s this? A bank raid? You’ve got it wrong. Try the High Street.’

  ‘Ha ha,’ the man said. ‘Very funny. We’re debt collectors. Mr Barlow’s due to settle up.’

  ‘You’re out of luck,’ said Grandma calmly. ‘He’s moved. He doesn’t live here any more.’

  ‘That’s what they all say.’

  ‘He has!’ I said. ‘He’s gone to Bristol.’

  ‘What a pity,’ the man said. ‘We’ll have to take his stuff instead. Come on, Charlie. We haven’t got all day.’

  They elbowed past us into the sitting room. They made straight for the telly and started unplugging it from the wall.

  My hand went into my pocket and I pulled out my
mobile.

  ‘I’m calling my dad,’ I said.

  ‘You do that, son,’ the other man said. ‘Tell him to cough up if he doesn’t want his stuff taken away.’

  Grandma had followed them into the room. The men had picked up the TV now and were holding it between them.

  ‘Put that television down,’ Grandma said, pointing her spoon at them. ‘It belongs to my son, Corporal Daniel Judd.’ She was stabbing her spoon at them as if it was a pointed finger. ‘He’s a member of the armed forces, is Danny, with a large number of friends who don’t like being messed with.’

  The men looked at each other again, and without speaking, lowered the TV to the floor.

  The phone in my hand crackled and someone spoke at the other end. Before I could lift it to my ear, Grandma said, ‘Give it here,’ and she took it out of my hand.

  ‘Guess what, Danny,’ she said, her eyes on the men. ‘We’ve got a couple of idiots here trying to remove your TV. They’re collecting on Steve’s debts, so they’ve been good enough to inform me.’

  The phone crackled some more. Grandma nodded and smiled.

  ‘I thought as much. You’ll be here in five minutes? With half a dozen of your lads? Good.’

  Dad’s voice sounded odd. I was trying to hear what he was saying, but I couldn’t make anything out.

  ‘Oh, and, Danny,’ Grandma went on. ‘They’ve probably got a van outside. Try not to damage it on your way in.’

  She clicked the phone off and handed it back to me. I realized my mouth was hanging open with astonishment, and I shut it.

  The men were out of the flat already, walking down the stairs, trying not to look as if they were hurrying.

  ‘Come back, you!’ Grandma called after them. ‘Put this television set back where you found it.’

  The only answer was the crash of the main door as it banged shut behind them.

  Grandma closed the door of the flat and went back into the kitchen.

  ‘Mystery solved,’ she said, looking satisfied. ‘Now we know why Steve did a bunk to Bristol.’

  ‘It was the court injunction, Grandma. You said.’

  ‘That wouldn’t have been enough to make him run for it. No, Jake. He must be over his ears in debt.’