Run, Zan, Run

Home > Other > Run, Zan, Run > Page 4
Run, Zan, Run Page 4

by Cathy MacPhail


  ‘And that’s why bullies never get beaten, and that’s why people like me stop asking for help.’

  She turned to leave the room.

  ‘I haven’t dismissed you yet, Katie.’

  Katie didn’t turn back. She wasn’t going to let Miss Withers see the tears in her eyes.

  ‘You may go, but I’ll be watching you.’

  She’d be watching her. Well, she wouldn’t be the only one. Ivy watched her too. All day, in the playground, in the classroom. Everywhere. She was even waiting for her at the school gates.

  ‘Don’t forget, Cassidy. I’ll get you … you and that other one.’ She gave her one last sneer and ran off. Funny how that very same sneer had once terrified her, Katie thought. But not now. Not since Zan.

  *

  That night, snuggled once more in her bed, she tried to regain that sense of contentment and security she had felt only last night. It was all so unfair. She had stopped Ivy’s bullying, and now Miss Withers was saying she was at fault.

  ‘I’ll be watching you,’ she had said. Pity she hadn’t watched Ivy that closely, then maybe none of this would have happened. And Ivy too, still in the shadows. And yet she wasn’t so afraid of Ivy. Not now. Now she was determined to go back to enjoying her life once more. She vowed she would never get into any trouble again. She’d become a model pupil. Even Miss Withers would be proud of her.

  That warm feeling was just enveloping her when she heard the phone ring downstairs.

  ‘Katie,’ her mother called. ‘It’s for you.’

  ‘For me … at this time of night?’ Reluctantly she slipped out of bed, wondering who on earth it could be. Zan, she decided, and she was suddenly rushing downstairs, her dressing-gown flying behind her. Zan was on the phone!

  ‘Zan!’ she shouted into the receiver. ‘Is that you?’

  The voice was small and timorous and nasal, and sounded as if it had been crying. ‘Are you … Katie Cassidy?’ A girl’s voice, very young.

  ‘Yes,’ Katie answered. ‘Who is this?’

  The words tumbled out. ‘You don’t know me. My name’s Nazeem. I’m at Notre Dame. I’ve got a gang always after me. The Posse, they call themselves. Always hitting me, chasing me, you know what it’s like. You’ve got to help. I haven’t got anyone else to ask.’ There was another sob. ‘They said they’re going to get me on Friday, after school. I’ve got to walk past all those derelict properties on my way home. And no one will walk home with me ’cause they’re dead scared of them.’

  ‘I don’t know what you think I can do.’

  ‘You can help me, you’ve got to.’ She was crying now, sobbing, this little girl called Nazeem. ‘I’ve got no one else to ask. I’ve heard about you. Everyone has. You can turn into this Zan, and … help me!’

  What could she say? What could she do? ‘But I—’

  Nazeem wouldn’t let her finish. ‘Promise me. Promise me you’ll be there on Friday, at the school gates. Oh, promise me.’

  And before she could stop herself she heard a voice saying, ‘I promise.’

  Katie hung up. Contentment, security, all gone. What was she going to do now?

  Chapter Five

  Friday morning arrived and Katie still hadn’t a clue how she was going to help Nazeem. She sat at breakfast and went over all her options for the hundredth time.

  ‘I could emigrate,’ she thought. ‘I could go down with some terrible illness. No one would expect me to go then.’ She sighed and picked at her cornflakes.

  ‘Or I could simply not go.’ She didn’t want to. She wanted to forget all about it.

  Then she thought of little Nazeem, standing alone at the school gate, watching for her, and she knew she couldn’t let her down. She would have to go.

  If only she could find Zan. Goodness knows she’d tried. On the pretence of helping with her father’s newly launched campaign for the town’s homeless, she had trudged the waste ground and dumps all week looking for her. But Zan was good at hiding. Hadn’t she said so?

  ‘What is wrong with you this morning, darling?’

  She glanced up at her mother. She had one leg almost wrapped around her head. Any other daughter might have giggled, but Katie was so used to her mother’s eccentric behaviour she hardly blinked. ‘What are you doing, Mum?’

  ‘It’s a new type of exercise programme,’ she said, with a struggle. It’s a difficult position to hold a conversation in. ‘It’s very relaxing.’

  ‘You’re sure the instruction book isn’t upside-down?’

  Her mother considered that. ‘I think I might have done something wrong. Anyway, why are you so glum? Not more trouble at school?’

  ‘Oh, no. Honest. I’m all right.’

  ‘As long as you’re sure … Ah, morning, Douglas.’

  ‘Morning, Katherine.’ Her father took his seat at the table without giving his wife a second glance. ‘You coming to help me again today, Katie?’

  Katie looked up. ‘Today? Today’s Friday.’

  ‘Yes. And people are homeless every day of the week. You can come after school.’ Her father had been delighted at her interest in his campaign, although he still hadn’t quite forgiven her for Zan.

  ‘I’ll really try, Dad.’ And she added quickly, ‘I want to.’

  ‘Fine,’ he said, pouring himself a cup of tea. ‘We’re heading for the derelict properties on the west side of town this afternoon. Heard there were people sleeping rough there.’

  Katie heard the words with alarm. The derelict tenements … Nazeem’s route home! Things were getting worse by the minute.

  ‘We just want to tell them where to come for food, soup … and clothes. By the way, Katherine, I looked out some of your old ones.’

  Her mother shrieked. ‘What old clothes!’ She began trying to unravel herself.

  ‘Trust me, dear. They’re all things you don’t need.’ Her father carried on oblivious. ‘The reporter from the local rag is going to be with us. The photographer too. Won’t do any harm to get the press involved.’

  Breathlessly, her mother admitted defeat. ‘Will someone get me out of this!’

  Katie trudged through the leaf-filled lane by the river on her way to school. November cold bit into her but she hardly felt it. Her mind was on one thing only. She couldn’t think straight about that either. Suddenly the sound of a whistle, shrill and piercing, cut into the air behind her. She whirled round. There was no one to be seen, but there was someone there. She sensed it.

  ‘Who …?’ Her question was never finished, for just then the figure stepped into view. Red sweater, long raincoat. Zan.

  ‘I’ve been looking everywhere for you.’

  ‘I know,’ Zan said. ‘Your dad and his interfering bunch of do-gooders. I keep having to move on, to get away from them.’

  ‘He’s not a do-gooder!’ Katie retorted so sharply, Zan’s eyes widened in surprise. ‘He really wants to help people. He’s kind. He’s—’

  ‘OK! OK! Let’s change the subject. What do you want to see me for?’

  For a moment, Katie had almost forgotten all about Nazeem. It only took her a few minutes to tell Zan what had happened.

  When she’d finished, Zan looked at her blankly. ‘How can you be frightened of anyone daft enough to call themselves the Posse?’ she snorted.

  ‘It doesn’t matter what they call themselves,’ Katie protested. ‘This Nazeem needs our help. We’ve got to help her.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘Because she’s being bullied. Because she has no one else to turn to. Because … because I promised, that’s why!’

  Zan shrugged. ‘But why should you care? You’re not being bullied any more.’

  She’d been on the run, looking out for herself, just for herself, for too long, Katie decided.

  ‘Why should you care?’ Zan said again.

  Katie remembered Nazeem’s voice on the phone. She could almost hear it now. Frightened, tearful, alone, and she knew the answer at once. ‘Because that girl was me, just a wee
while ago. Terrified, and not knowing where to turn. We have to help her.’

  Zan put her hands on her hips and frowned. ‘We? What’s this “we”? Are we a double act or something?’

  Oh dear, Katie thought. Perhaps she was annoyed at the story that was going around. That she and Zan were one and the same …

  ‘But you didn’t want anyone to know you existed. So I thought, if everyone thinks you and me were the same—’

  ‘Oh, I don’t mind that.’ She waved it away cheerfully. ‘I think that’s fun.’

  ‘You helped me before, Zan. I can never thank you enough for that. But it’s because of you this girl thinks I can help her. Please. I’ll never ask you again.’

  Zan pouted and drew a grubby hand across her face, leaving a smudged streak. Katie smiled, and Zan smiled back. ‘OK, Katie. I’ll do it. But I’m not doing it for this Nazeem character. I’m doing it for you.’

  She tried to sound angry, but Katie was beginning to read her now. Deep down, she was every bit as soft as Katie.

  ‘Do you think we could help her without any fighting?’ At Zan’s incredulous look, she hurried on. ‘It’s just that I’m getting a reputation …’

  ‘D’you think I like fighting? No way. What’s that saying, “He who fights and runs away – is a lot smarter than the one who hangs around to get beaten up”.’

  Katie giggled and Zan laughed too.

  ‘I only fight when my back’s against the wall. When there’s no other choice. It’s daft fighting otherwise.’

  ‘So what will we do? You see, to make things worse, my dad’s going to be in that area after school too. I don’t know how I’m going to avoid him.’

  ‘What area is that?’ Zan asked.

  ‘The derelict properties near Nazeem’s school.’

  ‘Aw, naw!’ Zan yelled. ‘That’s where I’ve moved to. Thought I was going to be safe there for a while.’ She tutted, and Katie almost apologized.

  Then a strange look came on to Zan’s face, and she leaned against the railings thoughtfully. ‘Wait a minute … we could maybe make this work for us …’

  ‘How? What are you thinking?’

  ‘Maybe we shouldn’t try to avoid him. I take it his usual band of merry men will be with him?’

  Katie wasn’t too keen on Zan’s sarcastic tone, but thought it just wasn’t the right time to complain. ‘Yes …’ she said.

  Whatever Zan was cooking up, it was making her look very smug.

  ‘Now remember, Katie, whatever happens, we’re not seen together. I like the idea of you being me.’

  ‘Anything you say, Zan.’

  ‘Right then, Katie. Here’s what we’re going to do …’

  Nazeem stood at the gates of Notre Dame nervously. She was very dark, and very tiny, and very frightened. She took a step back as Katie approached. She may have known her by reputation, but constant fear had made the young girl wary of any stranger.

  ‘I’m Katie,’ Katie told her at once.

  Nazeem’s eyes filled up with tears. ‘I didn’t think you were coming. I didn’t know what to do. I didn’t know whether to go home or stay here or …’

  Katie began to think words tumbling out were a regular feature of Nazeem. ‘I promised, didn’t I?’ She looked up and down the empty street. ‘Where are they?’

  ‘They’ll be somewhere. They always are. They just pop out, no matter what road I take. They follow me …’

  ‘OK, OK …’

  But nothing was going to stop Nazeem in full flow. ‘I take different roads, but it’s always the same. And none of my friends will come with me, they’re too scared …’

  ‘You don’t have to tell me, Nazeem, I know.’

  ‘And there’s no buses go past my way. And my father works and …’

  ‘And you’ve complained to the teachers so often they’re beginning to avoid you in the corridor.’

  Nazeem nodded. ‘And now I’m a big grass too. Because I told the teachers.’ Her big brown eyes filled up once again. Katie felt like crying too, remembering. ‘It’s not fair, Katie.’

  ‘I know, Nazeem.’

  She brightened immediately, and sniffed. ‘But now you’re here. Everything’s going to be all right.’

  Oh dear, I hope so, Katie thought.

  ‘You’ve got to promise me one thing, Nazeem.’

  ‘Anything, Katie.’

  ‘You do everything I say. Everything. Promise?’

  ‘Oh, I promise, Katie. Goodness. You really are brave.’

  If only she knew. Katie’s heart was pounding in her chest. Her legs were like jelly. If she survived today, she was going to emigrate, definitely. She was going to live in seclusion. A hermit. She’d become a legend, like the yeti. Seen so little, people would never know whether she existed or not. Yes, that’s exactly what she was going to do.

  If she survived today, that is.

  Chapter Six

  ‘And then, in history, this boy sits beside me, and he’s really cheeky, copies my work. I have to hide it from him, ’cause I’m really good at history. And then in maths …’

  Katie sighed. Nazeem had not shut up since they’d left the school gates. She’d heard about her father’s job – he was a dentist. Her mother’s hobby. Cooking. Her brother’s course at University. Philosophy. The colour of her bedroom, pink and grey. Her hay fever, which lasted all year round, leaving her with no sense of smell. Now she had moved on to every pupil in every class she was in.

  It occurred to Katie that she should have let the Posse catch Nazeem. They would let her go within five minutes, fed up listening to her.

  ‘Then, there’s this girl who sits beside me …’

  ‘Ssshhh!’ Katie heard something. A footstep behind her. She turned suddenly. It was almost dark, but in the gloom, she saw a movement. Someone had darted into a close.

  ‘They’re here,’ she whispered.

  Nazeem froze at her side. She slipped her hand into Katie’s and squeezed. ‘Shouldn’t we run?’

  ‘Not yet,’ Katie answered softly. ‘We want them to see where we’re running to.’

  ‘I don’t understand.’

  ‘I told you, Nazeem. Don’t ask questions. Just do what I tell you.’

  ‘Can’t you give me a little hint?’

  A figure stepped from the shadows. Then another. Then another. Funny how they seemed to travel in threes, Katie thought. Like the Three Stooges. She had to stifle a giggle. Nerves, she thought.

  The ringleader stood at the front, sneering. Trying to look tough. Managing it amazingly well. She was so like Ivy, Katie shuddered. Was there a course for bullying? she wondered. Where they learned to sneer, to look tough, to put fear into the Katies of this world? She had just got rid of Ivy, why on earth had she put herself into this position again?

  Then Nazeem squeezed her hand even tighter. ‘Katie … she … shouldn’t we run?’

  ‘Yes,’ she answered. ‘As fast as you can. Right … NOW!’

  They were off, the Posse hard on their heels.

  ‘No. This way!’ Katie yelled as Nazeem tried to pull her round a corner.

  ‘That way? But that way takes us right into the old properties. We’ll never get out of there!’

  Didn’t she know it! But this was the way Zan had said to lead them. Katie trusted Zan. ‘Trust me,’ she said to Nazeem.

  Nazeem managed a breathless smile. ‘I do,’ she said.

  They were off again. Running as fast as they possibly could. And as she ran, Katie tried hard to remember Zan’s instructions. Which corner to turn, which way to go, left or right. Oh, she hoped she was remembering it properly.

  ‘I think we’ve lost them.’ Nazeem said breathlessly.

  ‘What!’ Katie looked back down the empty street. ‘But we can’t!’

  ‘Why?’ Nazeem gasped. ‘You’ve got a plan. haven’t you? You’re going to trap them? We’re leading them somewhere, aren’t we?’

  ‘Yes. Yes. And yes again,’ Katie answered. Suddenly there they
were. Probably they knew a short cut through a back close. Goodness, she prayed, I hope they don’t know too much about these old properties. Their whole plan rested on Zan’s superior knowledge of living here.

  ‘Up this close.’ Katie pushed Nazeem inside, but stood at the entrance to make sure the Posse knew where she was going. They turned the corner, caught sight of her, and Katie fled after Nazeem.

  ‘You go in there,’ Katie yanked open the door of an old outside toilet. ‘Hide!’

  Nazeem looked shocked. ‘Me! In there!’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘But it’s dark! … There’s spiders … and goodness knows what else …’ Her big eyes widened in alarm. ‘R … rats.’

  ‘There’s three of them headed this way. Which do you prefer?’

  That seemed to decide her. Nazeem stepped gingerly inside the room. ‘I’ll sneeze …’ Katie heard her say as she shut the door on her.

  ‘Don’t you dare!’ she called in to her.

  Katie headed for another door at the back of the close. The right close? The right door? Oh, it must be. Now came the easy part.

  ‘Stand by the door,’ Zan had said, ‘and when they come in the close, look trapped, look scared.’

  Well, that wouldn’t be hard. Right this minute, Katie was terrified. Her hand shook as she held the rusty knob of the door. Suddenly, they were there at the mouth of the close, silhouetted against the fading light. Katie couldn’t make out their faces, but she could imagine their triumphant grins.

  ‘Where’s wee Nazeem?’ the leader of them asked.

  Katie pressed herself against the door as if she was barring their way. ‘You’re not getting her.’

  This struck them as funny. When the leader laughed, her two dumb lieutenants laughed too.

  ‘She’s in there? You think you’re protecting her or somethin’?’ She turned to the other two. ‘See that? That’s the great Katie Cassidy we’ve been hearin’ aboot. See how clever she is. Runnin’ here, of a’ places. Oh, dead smart.’ This sent them into gales of laughter.

  Katie slowly began to turn the knob of the door.

 

‹ Prev