Chantelle sighed as she thought about the tangled web of lies she had woven, and gazed wistfully out of the window. It had been such a lovely night, but it wasn’t real, and it could never happen again. Rob was married, and she was a fake. End of.
‘You’re very quiet,’ Rob said as the car purred its way out of town. ‘Feeling okay?’
‘Yeah, I’m fine,’ Chantelle lied. ‘Just a bit tired.’
‘Ah, well, at least you can have a lie-in tomorrow. I, on the other hand, shall be up at six.’
‘Oh, sorry. You should have said you had an early start.’
‘What, and miss out on a great night in the company of a beautiful lady?’ Rob glanced at her out of the corner of his eye and winked. ‘No chance.’
As the butterflies stirred in her stomach again, Chantelle inhaled deeply and dug her nails into her handbag on her lap. His wife was so lucky, if only she knew it.
When they reached Chorlton Road, Rob pulled over where Chantelle directed and glanced out of the window. ‘Are you sure you won’t let me take you to your door?’ he asked when he spotted two hooded youths on mountain bikes heading their way. ‘You shouldn’t be walking around on your own at this time of night; it’s not safe.’
‘It’s not far from here,’ Chantelle told him, lowering her head as if she was struggling to undo her seat belt, although she was actually hiding her face because she knew both of the lads on the bikes from school and didn’t want them to see her. ‘It’s just round the back of those shops, but it’s a one-way street so you’d only end up getting stuck. This is fine, honestly.’
The boys had passed by now and the road ahead was deserted, so Rob shrugged and said, ‘Okay, if you’re sure.’ Then, turning in his seat, he said, ‘Thanks again for tonight, Julia. I know it started out as a favour, but I’ve had a really great time, and I meant what I said about doing it again.’
Chantelle’s heart had started to race and she couldn’t look him in the eye. ‘I had a lovely time,’ she said quietly. ‘But I don’t think we should—’
Before she could finish speaking, Rob leaned forward and kissed her softly on the lips. She was shocked. Apart from the time a few years back when Immy had persuaded her to practise kissing techniques, it was the first real kiss she’d ever had. And she liked it.
‘Sorry,’ Rob said huskily when he broke away after a while. ‘I shouldn’t have done that, but I couldn’t resist. You’re just so beautiful.’ He reached for her hand now and, still gazing into her eyes, entwined his fingers in hers. ‘We can’t leave it like this; I need to see you again.’
‘We can’t,’ Chantelle croaked.
‘I haven’t stopped thinking about you since the first time we met, and it’s driving me crazy,’ Rob said. ‘Tell me you don’t feel the same way, and I’ll never bother you again,’ he challenged, his face still so close to hers that Chantelle could feel his breath on her cheek.
‘I do like you,’ she admitted. ‘But—’
When Rob pulled her close and kissed her again, Chantelle closed her eyes and felt herself drift away. But when his hand began to slide up her thigh, her conscience kicked in and she quickly pulled back.
‘I can’t do this,’ she gasped, fumbling for the door handle. ‘I’ve got to go.’
‘Julia, wait …’ Rob jumped out and gazed after her as she fled down the road. ‘I’m sorry.’
Chantelle ran past the shops and into the alleyway behind the row. She pressed her back up against a wall and held her breath as she listened to hear if he was following. When, after several moments, she heard the purr of his car engine as he gave up and drove away, she exhaled shakily and squeezed her eyes shut. Oh God, oh God, oh God! Why had she let him kiss her like that? It was so, so wrong.
Disgusted with herself, she lowered her head in shame and made her way home.
Anton’s party was still going strong but he’d come out onto the landing to get some air. Shotz and their mates had been caning the weed all night, but Anton had been working all day and couldn’t keep up. He’d also had too much to drink and was tugging on a straight cigarette now, trying to clear his head.
The door opened behind him and a drunken girl staggered out. ‘There you are,’ she said, lurching towards him. ‘I’ve been looking for you.’
‘Don’t,’ Anton groaned when she looped her arms around his neck. ‘I don’t feel too good.’
‘Let’s go to bed,’ she said, giving him a seductive smile. ‘I’ll soon make you feel better.’
Feeling sick when she pushed her hips up against his, Anton held her off. ‘Leave it out, Linz; I haven’t got the energy for this.’
‘You’ve always got the energy,’ she persisted, pouting at him now. ‘What’s up, don’t you like me any more?’
‘Course I like you,’ he said, trying to let her down easy. ‘We’re mates.’
‘We were more than that once,’ she reminded him. ‘And you know I’ve always wanted to get back with you.’
‘It didn’t work,’ Anton said gently. ‘We split for a reason, and it’s best just to leave it at that.’
‘You fancy someone else, don’t you?’ she demanded, her eyes filling with tears. ‘It’s that bitch Simone, isn’t it? She’s been giving you the eye all night, the slag. What’s she got that I can’t give you? I’m way better-looking than her.’
‘You’re just being stupid now,’ Anton said, losing patience. ‘I’m not looking to get with anyone. I just want to get my head together, so go back inside and give me some space, yeah?’
‘Just give me a chance,’ she begged, clutching at his hands. ‘I love you.’
‘You’re drunk,’ Anton snapped, snatching his hands away. ‘And I’m not interested, so pack it in!’
As the girl burst into tears and fled back into the flat, Anton caught a movement out of the corner of his eye and glanced around in time to see Chantelle opening her door. Their eyes met, and his heart sank when he saw the expression of disapproval on her face. She had obviously witnessed the end bit of his confrontation with Linz, and probably thought him a complete bastard for shouting at her and sending her away in tears.
When Chantelle went inside now, closing her door firmly behind her, Anton brought his fists down on the balcony rail. ‘Shit!’
Another girl came out of his flat just then and walked over to stand beside him. ‘Linz is having a shit fit in there,’ she said, resting her elbows on the rail. ‘You okay?’
‘Yeah, I’m cool.’ Anton sighed. ‘Just tired. Think I might call it a night.’
‘Want me to stay and help you clear up?’
Her voice was soft, and her perfume smelled really sweet. Figuring that if he’d ever had any chance with Chantelle, he’d totally blown it now, Anton smiled.
‘Yeah, why not.’
Chantelle leaned her back against the door to catch her breath after letting herself in. She could still hear the faint thud of music coming from Anton’s place but, apart from the soft snores coming from Leon’s room, it was deathly quiet in the flat. Irritated to see that her mum had left her bedroom light on and the door open, she walked up the hall to turn it off. She shook her head when she glanced into the room and saw the mess. Her mum had always been untidy, but it looked as if she’d met her match in Miguel because it was even more of a tip than usual. But it was their business if they wanted to live like pigs.
She flicked the light off and went to her own room, then undressed quickly and climbed into bed. The night had started off great and ended up horrible, and she just wanted to go to sleep and forget all about it.
19
Chantelle had a restless night, haunted by the shame of having responded to Rob’s kisses. Woken with a start by the sound of somebody knocking loudly on the front door the next morning, she groaned as she got up and shuffled her way into the hall. Her head was banging from all the wine she’d drunk, and she felt nauseous.
‘Delivery for Mrs Ramírez,’ the delivery man told her when she opened the door an inch
and squinted out at him through the crack. ‘Needs signing for.’
Chantelle tutted when she heard that her mum was already calling herself by Miguel’s surname despite not yet being married. But she signed for the parcel and brought it in. She put it on the table and was about to go back to her bed, but hesitated when she heard a noise coming from Leon’s room. It sounded like he was crying, and she frowned. He hadn’t left his room in days apart from to go to the toilet or to get something to eat, and she’d been concerned when their paths had crossed to see that he had developed bags under his eyes. It was clear that something was bothering him, but he had flatly refused to talk to her when she had tried, so she’d been leaving him alone. But she couldn’t ignore this.
‘Leon …?’ She tapped on the door. ‘Can I come in?’
‘No,’ he croaked. ‘Go away.’
‘Please,’ she implored. ‘I know something’s wrong, and I just want to help. Are you in some kind of trouble? Is someone picking on you?’
‘Go away,’ he said again, his voice hoarse.
‘I can’t,’ Chantelle persisted. ‘I’m your sister; it’s my job to look after you.’
‘I don’t need looking after,’ he sobbed. ‘Just keep your nose out; it’s got nothing to do with you.’
Irritated when he put his music on at full blast, Chantelle said, ‘Oh, I’ve had enough of this,’ and marched into her room to get dressed. Something was obviously wrong, because he never cried. But if he wouldn’t tell her, she would just have to ask Kermit instead. Leon hadn’t been himself since their falling-out and she knew he’d been hanging around with that gang she’d caught him with. If they had been bullying him, as she suspected, then she needed to know where to find them so that she could put a stop to it.
Kermit groaned when his mum showed Chantelle into the living room. He hadn’t seen her since she’d got him into trouble for drinking and smoking, and her appearance now could only mean one thing: Leon had done something bad, and she was going to blame Kermit – again.
‘It’s got nowt to do with me,’ he said before she’d even opened her mouth.
‘Don’t be rude,’ Linda scolded, waving for Chantelle to sit down. ‘She just wants a quick word.’
‘I’m watching telly,’ he protested, annoyed with her for not warning him. If he’d known Chantelle was here, he’d have locked himself in his room and refused to come out until she was gone.
‘You were,’ said Linda, reaching down and switching the TV off. ‘Now find your manners before I find them for you,’ she warned, giving him a stern look. Then, turning to Chantelle, she smiled. ‘Can I get you a drink, love?’
‘No, thanks.’ Chantelle shook her head.
When his mum herded the smaller kids out of the room and closed the door, Kermit slumped further down in his chair and rested his cheek on his fist.
‘Don’t worry, I won’t keep you long,’ Chantelle said, guessing from the way he was staring at the floor that she was the last person he wanted to talk to. ‘I just need to know if you know what’s going on with Leon.’
‘Why you asking me?’ Kermit muttered sulkily. ‘Haven’t seen him, and don’t want to.’
‘Why?’ Chantelle probed. ‘You’ve been best mates for years.’
‘Not no more.’
‘Because of that night?’
When Kermit just shrugged, Chantelle leaned forward in her seat and peered at him. ‘Look, I know I shouldn’t have had a go at you over that, but I was worried about him. I still am,’ she added quietly. ‘I think he might be being bullied.’
Kermit snorted softly and picked at a fraying hole in the knee of his trousers.
‘What does that mean?’ Chantelle frowned. ‘Are you trying to say he’s bullying someone?’
‘Not now,’ Kermit said quietly. Then, biting his lip, because he hadn’t meant to admit that a kid like Leon had the power to intimidate him, he kicked out at one of his brother’s toys.
‘Those boys he was with that night,’ Chantelle said. ‘Who are they?’
‘Dunno.’
‘Yes, you do. You said they went to your school.’
‘So? Doesn’t mean I know ’em.’
Chantelle supposed she couldn’t blame the boy for not wanting to talk to her after the way she’d gone off on him the last time, but it was frustrating all the same.
‘Look, I’m not asking you to take me to them,’ she said, a little more sharply than she’d intended. ‘I just need to know about them. I’ve already seen them, so I know they’re a lot older than you and Leon, and I don’t get why they’re letting him hang around with them.’
‘’Cos he’s their joey,’ Kermit said scathingly.
‘Meaning?’ She sighed when he didn’t answer, and said, ‘Please, Kermit, I wouldn’t be here if I wasn’t worried. And I promise I won’t tell him I’ve spoken to you.’
‘You said that last time, but you did, and now I can’t go out ’cos he says he’ll cut me if he sees me.’
‘What are you talking about?’ Chantelle gasped. ‘Leon would never say something like that. You were his best mate.’
Kermit’s bottom lip crept out, but he quickly sucked it back in and bit down hard on it to stop the tears from escaping. It was humiliating to be scared of a little kid like Leon, but his ex-mate hadn’t been joking when he’d flashed that big knife at him down by the shops the other week, and Kermit hadn’t dared to go out since. He was absolutely dreading going back to school after the holidays, because he just knew that Damo and his boys were going to make his life hell on Leon’s behalf.
‘If you care about him at all, you need to tell me what’s going on,’ Chantelle said quietly. ‘Please, Kermit.’
She sounded as if she was on the verge of tears now, and it penetrated Kermit’s shell. He breathed in deeply through his nose. Then, voice muffled, he said, ‘I don’t know if it’s true, but I heard they’ve been dealing.’
‘Who?’
‘Damo and Acky. And probably Leon, seeing as he’s always with them.’
‘Drugs?’ Chantelle was shocked.
Kermit shrugged. ‘Big T’s supposed to have set them up with their own patch.’
‘Big T?’ Chantelle’s face creased in confusion. ‘Who the hell’s that?’
Kermit swallowed nervously. He’d said way too much, and it was too late to take it back now. ‘Look, I don’t know nothing,’ he said, pushing himself to his feet. ‘And if you tell him I said anything, I’ll deny it. Just leave me alone!’
He fled from the room and ran into his bedroom, slamming the door behind him.
‘What’s going on?’ Linda rushed out from the kitchen as Chantelle walked out into the hall. ‘What’ve you said now?’ She looked at the girl accusingly. ‘He’s not set foot out of here in weeks so, whatever he’s supposed to have done, it wasn’t him.’
‘He hasn’t done anything,’ Chantelle assured her. ‘I was just asking about those boys our Leon’s been hanging round with. I think he’s being bullied, and your Kermit knows them, so I thought he might be able to help me find out what’s going on.’
‘Yes, well, he can’t,’ Linda said frostily. ‘And I’ll thank you not to come round here again if you’re just going to keep upsetting him. He’s a good boy, and I’m not having him dragged down by your brother.’
‘I’m sorry,’ Chantelle apologised. ‘Will you please tell Kermit that I meant what I said – I won’t mention his name to our Leon, or anyone. I promise.’
Linda shook her head disapprovingly. ‘I’ll tell him, but this is the end of it, Chantelle. I said I didn’t blame your Leon for all that stuff with the drugs, but I do. My Kermit never did nothing like that before he hooked up with him, and I’m not having any more of it. Just keep your brother away from him in future. Okay?’
Chantelle could have said the same: that Leon had never done anything like that before he’d started hanging out with Kermit. But she doubted it would go down too well, so, nodding her agreement, she went on her way
without another word.
Leon was in the toilet when Chantelle got back to the flat, and she wrinkled her nose at the telling noises that were coming out through the door. His stomach was obviously upset, and that, added to him crying, convinced her that he was definitely in some sort of trouble. Praying that it wasn’t drugs, as Kermit had suggested, she decided to check his room while he was out of the way. He’d go mad if he caught her, but she had to know what she was dealing with.
A quick search of his jacket and trouser pockets yielded nothing but scrunched-up tissues and chocolate wrappers, and the contents of his wardrobe and dresser drawers were spilling out, but there was nothing druglike in any of them. She kneeled down and looked under the bed. Again, there was just rubbish, and she was about to give up when she spotted a piece of plastic bag poking down through the springs of the bed-base. She raised the mattress and was shocked to see a flick knife sitting beside a mobile phone and a charger.
No wonder Kermit had been scared. He’d said that Leon had threatened to cut him if he saw him, so he must have seen this knife to have taken the threat so seriously. But where had Leon got it from?
Aware that he could walk in at any moment, she laid the knife and phone on the floor beside her and reached for the plastic bag that was stuffed at the back near the wall. As soon as her fingers touched it her instincts told her exactly what it was, but her mind refused to accept it. A knife was one thing, anyone could get a knife. But a gun …? No way.
She didn’t hear Leon walk into the room, and almost jumped out of her skin when he bellowed, ‘What are you doing, you nosy bitch? Get out!’
‘Pack it in,’ she protested, almost losing her balance when he ran at her and tried to grab the bag out of her hand.
‘It’s mine,’ he yelled, jumping up at her when she stood up and snatched the bag out of his reach. ‘Give it back!’
‘Not a chance,’ she snapped, struggling to hold him at bay. ‘I knew you were in trouble, but this is way worse than I thought. What the hell do you think you’re playing at?’
Respect (Mandasue Heller) Page 21
