And then I have an idea. So I turn round and head back up the beach with the can. And I feel a bit better. I think I know what I’m gonna do. I think I know how I’m gonna make things right.
.
David
I get woken up at seven o’clock by my phone. Another bloody text. I sit up in bed. It’s wet – feels like I’ve pissed the bed. But it’s just sweat. I must have got into a really deep sleep after the sleeping pills. My mouth feels dry. My head feels fuzzy.
I get out of bed and grab my phone. I know who the text’s gonna be from before I even look. Knaggs. And when I do look, I’m right.
DAVEY, HAVE U GOT A TOY TRACTOR? I CAN FEEL SOME PISS-TAKIN COMIN ON!
I sigh, run my hand through my hair. I stare at the text for a while. I press ‘Reply’ on my phone and start to text. NO, I HAVEN’T. STOP BEING A DICK is as far as I get before I press the red button on my phone and save the message as a draft instead of sending it.
I lie back on my bed. But it’s cold and wet and smells of sweat. So I sit straight back up again. And I stare into space. My head feels weird. I’ve got this feeling in my stomach, like I’ve done something wrong, like I should be doing something to put it right. I sit there for ages.
There’s a knock on my door. It opens and Mum looks in. ‘Oh, you are up then,’ she says. ‘Come on, David. It’s a quarter past seven. You need to get a move on or you’ll be late.’
I don’t move. I can hear her, but I’m still staring into space, still thinking and feeling rubbish. I see her take a step into my room.
‘Are you OK, David?’ she says.
I sit there for a few seconds and stare. I nod my head. Mum looks at me like she’s trying to work out if I really am OK. But then she turns and walks back out of my room, clumps downstairs.
I don’t want to get up. I don’t want to go downstairs and eat breakfast. I don’t want to go to school. I just want to stay in my bedroom all day. I want to stay out of Knaggs’s way, out of everyone’s way.
But Mum calls from downstairs, ‘Come on, David! Your breakfast’s on the table!’
I get up and put my dressing gown on. And I go down to breakfast.
.
Zoë
I’m sitting at the breakfast table, unable to swallow my mouthful of cornflakes, as Mum and Dad look at me and make concerned faces.
‘Is everything all right, Zoë?’ Mum says. ‘You look worried.’
I don’t look at her. I couldn’t say anything even if I wanted to, with a mouthful of soggy cornflakes.
‘Come on, love, you can tell me,’ she says. ‘Is it something at school that’s worrying you?’
I shake my head.
‘Is it the tramp?’
I shake my head again.
‘The move?’
I shake my head.
Mum sighs. Then she puts her hand on my arm. I look at her. She smiles. ‘Zoë, sometimes it helps to share a problem. Just telling someone else can make the problem seem less important.’
I smile at her, my mouth still full of cornflakes. And then I get up from the table, go to the bathroom and spit the cornflakes into the toilet.
I’m sitting on my bed. I can’t stop thinking about Gary, wondering about what happened to him after he walked off. I hope he calmed down a bit, went home. I really hope that’s what he did. But even though I want to think that’s what happened, I know it probably isn’t. I bet he didn’t go home last night. I bet he slept rough somewhere, like a field or a barn or something. Right now, he’ll be trying to get as far away as possible from everyone. Either that or he’s being pulled out of the sea or something really stupid. But I can’t think about that. He wouldn’t do that. I hope.
I pick up my phone. I open ‘My contacts’, go to Gary’s number. My thumb’s poised above the green button. One press and it’ll dial the number. Ask one question and I can find out if Gary went home last night. But I’m not sure I can do it. I close my eyes, take a deep breath and force my thumb to press the button. Then I hold the phone to my ear.
It rings.
Again.
And again.
And again.
‘Hello?’ It’s a woman’s voice. It must be Gary’s mum. She sounds sort of desperate.
And I go mute. I can’t make my mouth say any words. I don’t know what to say to her. I can’t just ask her whether Gary came home last night. If he didn’t come back, this is gonna upset her even more. I shouldn’t have phoned.
‘Hello?’ she says again. ‘Is anyone there? Is that you, Gary? Where are you?’
Crap! I knew it. He didn’t come home last night.
‘Hello?’ she says again. Now she sounds angry. She sighs, swears under her breath, and the line goes dead.
I sit there and stare into space. He’s gone. I’ll never see him again. And it’s my fault.
.
I walk really slowly to the bus stop. All the way there I’m thinking that if I happen to get there too late and the bus is already gone, then I have a legitimate excuse not to go to school. Then maybe I could go and look for Gary, make things right. But when I get to the bus stop, the bus is there and people are getting on it.
‘All right, Zoë?’ Knaggs says. ‘Did you have a nice time yesterday?’ He smirks at me.
‘What?’
He laughs. ‘You weren’t at school yesterday. Did you go anywhere nice?’ Knaggs looks at me. He looks like he knows something and he can’t wait to say it. But there’s no way he can know about last night.
‘Get lost, Paul,’ I say. And I start to walk towards the bus.
Knaggs walks after me. ‘No sign of the cheese-puff boy this morning, Zoë,’ he says. ‘Did you find him in the end? Had he topped himself? Is that why you’ve got a face like a slapped arse?’
‘Go away!’ I say to him. And I get on the bus and sit as far away from him as I can.
.
Gary
I put the petrol can on the counter. A bottle of water and a pasty as well.
The man in the petrol station looks at me funny, suspicious. But all he says is, ‘Pump number five?’
I nod my head. ‘Yeah,’ I say. ‘Can I have a box of matches too?’
He nods, turns round and gets a matchbox. I know what he’s thinking. He thinks I’m gonna set fire to something. Well, maybe he’s right. I haven’t decided yet. He scans the other stuff through. ‘Ten ninety-eight,’ he says.
I give him the money.
He fiddles about in the till and hands my change over. He looks at me funny again. But he still doesn’t say nothing.
I turn away and get out of there as quick as I can.
I walk along the side of the road. It’s still early – just after seven – but the roads are starting to fill up with cars. When I’m out of sight of the petrol station I stop and rip open the pasty. I take a bite. It’s too cold. It don’t taste of nothing. But I’m hungry as a bloody bear, so it’ll have to do. I take a swig of water and start walking again.
.
The walk takes about half an hour into East Strand and then back out the other side. And when I get to the field, it’s still there. Henry’s tractor. I look along the road, make sure no one’s watching. There isn’t anyone about, so I open the gate. And I walk back over to the tractor.
I pour diesel into the tractor’s tank, put the top back on the can and chuck it in the tractor cab. I climb in after it and take the keys out of my pocket. I nearly threw them in the sea last night, when I was angry. I sigh. Put the key in and start up the tractor. It doesn’t start first time. It wouldn’t, would it? But the second time it does and I drive it out of the field and on to the road.
.
David
I’m in a kind of daze. My head feels like someone’s taken my brain out and put
some polystyrene in there instead. I can’t think straight. Maybe it’s cos I’m tired. Or maybe it’s cos of the sleeping pills.
I go and stand by the chicken-wire fence, throw my bag down and just stare into space, wishing I was somewhere else other than school.
After a while, Knaggs comes into the playground. He walks over to me, throws his bag so that it skids along the playground until it crashes into the fence. He smiles. ‘All right, Davey-Dave?’
I nod at him. ‘All right.’ I don’t want to talk to him. I want him to go away. But I can’t say that to him.
‘Hey, what about Wood?’ he says. He looks at me expectantly, with this excited expression on his face.
I look away from him, at the ground. ‘What about him?’
‘You got my texts, didn’t you?’ Knaggs says. ‘Stupid Farmer Boy stole a tractor, with Zoë!’
I kick a stone around the playground. It gives me a reason to have my head down, to avoid looking at Knaggs. ‘I know,’ I say. ‘So what?’
Knaggs keeps following me around. He obviously can’t take the hint that I don’t want to speak to him. ‘Well, Davey-Dave,’ he says, ‘Zoë was on the bus this morning but there was no sign of Farmer Boy. Do you reckon the cops caught him? He might be in a cell right now! What sentence do you think they give tramp-murdering tractor thieves? Life? The death penalty?’
I stop kicking the stone and look at Knaggs. He’s smiling. And something – maybe his smirking face, maybe what he’s saying, maybe lack of sleep – makes me snap. My heart starts beating like mad, and before I know it, I’m right in Knaggs’s face. ‘He’s missing!’ I say. ‘No one knows where he is. He’s run away from home. His mum’s crying. Is that funny?’
Knaggs stares back at me. He seems shocked.
I take a step back. I can’t look at Knaggs any more.
‘Jesus, calm down!’ Knaggs says. And then, after a while, he says, ‘How d’you know all that?’
I sigh. ‘Because my mum told me. Because she’s had Wood’s mum on the phone to her in tears, asking what to do.’
‘Shit!’ Knaggs says. ‘Shit!’
We both stand by the fence, not talking to each other for ages.
‘Have they called the police?’ Knaggs says.
I shake my head. ‘Not yet.’ And then I pick up my bag and look for somewhere else to stand.
.
Gary
It feels weird, driving this tractor on the road. Like I’m gonna get caught or something. I didn’t think about it yesterday. It just seemed like the right thing to do. But it’s making me nervous right now.
I have to do this, though. I’ve got to go back. There’s stuff that needs sorting out. There isn’t any other way for everything to work out right. I just want to be there. I want this to be over.
I go back the same way I drove yesterday. Quiet roads, no cars, no houses, no people. I don’t see another human being. It’s a good job as well, cos I’m so shitted up, so on edge, that I think if I did, I’d have a heart attack or something. But when I get to just outside Wallingham, instead of turning off towards Henry’s farm, I just keep going. And then my heart starts to beat really fast. I’m really gonna do this. I’m gonna get my own back on Paul Knaggs. I’m gonna finish this.
.
I stop just outside Wendham, park Henry’s pile-of-shit tractor in a field that looks like no one’s been there for months – years, maybe. I grab my stuff out of the tractor – bottle, petrol can, matches, keys. And I jump out of the cab. There’s a tap in the field. I stop by it and fill up. Then I walk into Wendham.
My hands are sweaty. My heart’s beating like bloody mad. I can feel it right up in my throat. I feel sick. But I keep walking. Ten more minutes and this’ll be over. Ten more minutes of feeling like this, then it’s done, no going back. A minute later and I’m in the village. Wendham. I hate this place. Nothing good’s ever happened to me here. I walk past the school and my heartbeat gets even faster, like my chest’s gonna burst open all over the pavement. I take a swig out of my bottle and I try and take a couple of deep breaths. I walk past the school to the church and into the churchyard.
I crouch down by the churchyard wall. I can see the playground from here. Kids are in there already, standing around in their stupid little groups, taking the piss out of each other, chatting away about nothing. I just crouch there, petrol can in one hand, bottle of water in the other. And I watch them and wait for the right time.
I start to feel calm, crouched there. More calm than I was a few minutes ago, anyway. I know that I’m gonna do it now. I know that I’m not gonna chicken out.
I have to wait a few minutes before I see who I’m looking for. Paul Knaggs. He walks into the playground and chucks his bag down by the fence. Then he stands there, with David. He’s the one that stitched me up to Mr Moore, David is – I’m sure. Knaggs and David start talking. After a few seconds, David tries to walk away from Knaggs. But Knaggs follows him, still talking. And after a while, David steps right up into Knaggs’s face, like he’s gonna hit him or something. He says something to him, can’t hear what, though. And then he backs off. They say a few more things to each other, then David grabs his bag and walks away from Knaggs.
Knaggs walks off as well. Over to Zoë. He kind of follows her about. He looks like he’s pretending to drive a car or something. Zoë turns. She looks pissed off. But he just laughs, says something. Then she walks off, looking angry.
I give it a few more seconds, wait till Knaggs is definitely on his own. And I jump the wall. I walk straight over to him. And I feel really strong, like I could rip off his head if I wanted. But I’m not going to. I just stand in front of him with the petrol can in my hand, wait for him to see me. Wait for him to take the bait.
He laughs. ‘All right, Gary?’ he says. ‘What you got there? You been filling up your tractor? I thought you’d run away from home! Hey, is that a girl’s hoodie you’re wearing?’
‘You think you’re pretty funny, don’t you?’
Knaggs nods his head. ‘Yeah, I am. Funnier than you, anyway.’
I don’t say anything. I’m feeling weird. My head’s swimming. I don’t know whether I can go through with this.
Knaggs smirks at me.
And I know I have to do something. Or else it’ll just be like it was before. Him in control, taking the piss. So I do it. I slowly unscrew the lid of the petrol can and then hold the can up in front of me.
The smirk on Knaggs’s face goes. He stares at the petrol can. He looks scared, freaked out.
I smile at him.
‘What are you doing?’ he says. He sounds serious now.
I start pouring the contents of the can on to the ground. Some lands on Knaggs’s trainers. He’s shitting himself. I’m in control. ‘Whoops!’ I say. ‘Sorry, I slipped.’ And I smile.
Knaggs looks at his shoe and he looks at me. ‘What the fuck are you doing?’ he says. ‘Psycho!’
I pull the box of matches from my pocket. I rattle them and watch Knaggs’s face. The colour has drained away.
‘Is that petrol in there?’ he says, pointing to the can.
‘No.’ I shake my head. ‘It’s diesel.’
His eyes are going bulgy now. You can see that he’s thinking about what to do. Should he run? Should he shout for help? Or should he stand there and let me do it, pretend like he’s a real man?
I spill a bit more out of the can, on to his trousers.
‘Stop it!’ he says.
‘Say you’re sorry or I’ll pour the lot on you and light a match!’ I say.
‘What the fuck?’ Knaggs says.
‘You heard. Say you’re sorry!’
He’s panicking now. He thinks he might die. He doesn’t know what to do. ‘I’m sorry,’ he says. But he doesn’t sound that sorry to me. Not sorry enough.
>
‘Beg me to forgive you.’
He looks round. People are watching us. There’s a crowd of people gathering. I need to do this soon, before someone jumps on me and stops me.
‘Get back!’ I shout at the crowd. I let some more dribble out of the petrol can on to the ground, so everyone gets back. I turn to Knaggs. ‘Say it!’
He looks at the ground. ‘Will you forgive me?’ he says quietly.
‘Louder!’ I say.
‘Will you forgive me?’ he says again, a little louder.
The crowd’s getting closer again. So I stare at them. It doesn’t take much to make them move back – they all think I’m mental already.
I turn back to Knaggs. ‘Say you’re a dickhead!’
Knaggs looks at me. For a second there’s a little smile on his face. ‘You’re a dickhead!’ he says.
The crowd laugh a little. Till I look at them and let even more spill out of the can.
‘That wasn’t a good idea, Paul,’ I say. I step towards him, pour more over him.
He starts to shake. He’s petrified.
‘Say you’re a dickhead!’ I say.
‘I’m a dickhead,’ he says quietly.
I smile. I take a match from the box, and the crowd moves back. Cowards. They won’t even step in and save him.
‘Please don’t,’ Knaggs says. He’s staring at the match.
‘Don’t what?’
‘Don’t do it! I’m sorry. I won’t take the piss out of you again. Just don’t do it!’
I smile at him. Slosh a bit more out of the can. I walk straight past him, barge him out the way, letting the rest of the liquid dribble out of the can. Then I turn and throw the can at him. And I light the match.
He stares at me. There are a million things going through his head. I can see it in his eyes. Now he knows how it feels. I drop the match. He closes his eyes before it hits the trail of liquid.
Inside My Head Page 16
