The Deviants

by C. J. Skuse

  ‘Yeah,’ said Corey. ‘She needs someone there. In case her mum’s not around.’

  ‘Fair play,’ said Max, switching the picnic bag from his left hand to his right. ‘When are you due, Fal?’

  ‘They said 10 September.’

  The pain thickened my throat until it felt like my whole neck was swollen. ‘That’s not long.’

  ‘I know,’ said Fallon. ‘I’m a bit scared about the pain, but Corey will be with me now, so it won’t be so bad. I’m glad it’s a girl, though, Ella. She’ll have a foof, like us!’

  I snorted with laughter at that, and my jealousy was gone in an instant, like she had pricked it with a pin.

  We had to go super slowly for Fallon’s sake. Halfway up the sloping churchyard that led to the turnstile and hill footpath, Max picked her up and carried her in his arms, and she giggled like a gurgling drain and he heaved like she was heavier than elephants but they went on ahead.

  ‘Show-off!’ I called out, but I smiled anyway – Corey was smiling, expecting me to do the same.

  ‘I’m so glad we all hooked up again. All of us,’ he said.

  I nodded. ‘It’s fun, isn’t it? But, just be careful, OK? I mean, don’t go saying you’ll be there for her if you’re not. She’s already had Zane let her down.’

  ‘Oh, I’m not like him,’ he said. ‘I wouldn’t do that. I just want to help her, that’s all.’

  I believed him. That was always the boy Corey was. He was our problem solver. If we were lost Corey would work out how to get home. If we were cold, Corey would get the fire going. Fallon was lost – he was going to light her way.

  ‘Good,’ I said. ‘No, that’s really great, Corey.’

  He beamed.

  At the top of the churchyard, Max and Fallon had stopped, right beside the gravestone. We never walked by it without saying something or laying something there, even if it was just a buttercup.

  ‘Hi, Jess,’ Max was saying as Corey and I joined them, staring down at the gold writing on the huge slab of black marble.

  In Loving Memory of Jessica Joelle Rittman,

  taken from us, 6 June Aged 18 years.

  A precious daughter and big sister.

  In our hearts forever and always.

  ‘She’d have hated that headstone,’ said Corey. Then he looked shocked by what he’d said. ‘God, Max, I’m so sorry.’

  ‘No, you’re right,’ said Max. ‘Dad chose it. It was the most expensive one they had.’ He clocked the bunch of pink roses beside the stone. ‘Hey, who put them there?’ He bent down to see if there was a card but there wasn’t. We looked back at him blankly and shook our heads.

  ‘Maybe it was your mum?’ I said.

  He shook his head. ‘She wouldn’t come up here.’

  ‘Do you think we’ll ever know – what actually happened?’ said Fallon.

  A silence followed her question. The air around us became thick and hot.

  ‘As far my whole family’s concerned, it was an unavoidable and tragic accident,’ said Max. ‘End of.’

  ‘But what about you?’ she persisted. ‘What do you think happened, Max?’

  He shrugged. ‘Did you know they still use the same bus?’

  ‘You’re joking,’ said Corey.

  ‘No, I’ve seen it a few times. There’s no dent in it any more, but I memorised the number plate. You’ve seen it, haven’t you Ells?’

  ‘Yeah,’ I said, looking down at the pink roses. ‘Come on. The Mini Magnums will be defrosting.’

  Once we’d made the agonisingly slow, steep climb along the wildflower path, through the two gates and past clumps of bleating sheep, we reached the summit of Brynstan Hill at last. I always felt like it was the one place in the world I could breathe to the bottom of my lungs. We could see all our houses from up there. The top was several football pitches’ worth of uneven grass, and that day it was almost completely covered in buttercups. Out to the west ran the motorway and all the retails parks, where the cars glinted like little toys. To the east was the sea and sitting smack bang in the middle was the island, like a fat black rat in a bath. All I could hear was the wind.

  We began to set out our picnic, Max wasting no time in doling out the Mini Magnums and the huge bag of candy we’d reclaimed from the Shaws.

  ‘So, come on then,’ he said, crunching down on his ice cream and slurping it up. ‘What’s this big plan?’

  ‘Oh yeah, I still haven’t told you, have I?’ I said, peeling back the lid on my Tupperware box of mixed salad and low fat cheese. ‘Well, I remembered this story Jess told us once, about a cat…’

  I looked at all their faces in turn. They were all blank.

  Then Fallon’s eyes lit up. ‘Oh, I know the one! We were having a midnight feast and we made a cave out of our sleeping bags, and the chairs in your dining room, Max.’

  ‘Yeah,’ I said, ‘and we played on your Wii and your mum told us off for getting Ribena on the new cushion covers. Anyway, Jessica told us this horror story, about this alcoholic bloke who bullied his cat.’

  ‘I don’t remember it at all.’ Max yawned, leaning back on his elbows and moving his aviators from his head to his eyes.

  I started telling the story again. Pretty soon, Corey caught my drift.

  ‘… then his house catches fire and he and his wife have to leg it. But when the man returns to the house the next day, what does he find? The charred image of a cat on one of the walls – a cat with a rope around its neck. Because that’s how he killed it.’

  Corey looked at me with a scared sort of wonder. ‘I think I know where this is going.’

  ‘I don’t,’ said Max. ‘What happened then?’

  ‘He starts seeing this new cat, another black one, large as life, hanging around his house. It’s almost identical to his old cat, except this one has a white patch of fur on its chest – a patch in the shape of a gallows.’

  ‘Ha, yeah, I remember it now,’ said Max, blindly reaching for a Drumstick from the bag of sweets and lying back down. ‘Not one of her best, but still cool.’

  Corey grabbed another cheese and onion sandwich and started removing the onion. ‘I think I’ve read the graphic novel. Who wrote the original story – was it Lovecraft? Or Poe?’

  ‘Oh, I don’t know; some old dead dude,’ I said. ‘It doesn’t matter. The point is, there’s this bit in the story when the man kills his wife in a fit of rage because he’s so freaked out, and he buries her and the new cat behind the cellar wall. But then all these eerie, echoey meowing noises start in the walls, and everywhere he goes, he can hear it. It’s the black cat, alerting everyone to the man’s awful crimes.’

  ‘OK, I get it,’ said Max, levering himself up again onto his elbows with the Drumstick hanging limply over his bottom lip. ‘Guy kills cat, guy gets plagued with guilt about killing cat. Zane killed cat, we plague Zane with cat stuff. Yeah?’

  ‘Yeah,’ I said. ‘We keep reminding him of his terrible deed until he begs us for mercy.’

  ‘Bit of a long shot, innit?’ said Max. ‘I mean, what did you have in mind? Setting his house on fire and shoving a cat behind his wardrobe?’

  ‘Something along those lines,’ I said, pulling at tufts of dry grass at the side of the picnic blanket. Everyone was quiet for a bit.

  ‘You’re serious, aren’t you?’

  ‘Deadly,’ I replied. ‘Aren’t you? Don’t you want to get back at him? For what he’s done to Corey and Fallon?’

  ‘He hasn’t hurt me, Ella,’ Fallon jumped in.

  ‘He’s abandoned you. He used you and then dumped you and never called. He hasn’t even asked about how his baby’s doing, has he?’

  ‘Well, no…’

  ‘So that’s asshole behaviour, isn’t it?’

  ‘Well… yeah.’

  ‘Even assholes have a purpose,’ said Corey. I looked at him. ‘I’m just saying.’

  ‘Well don’t “just say”. You want to get back at him too, I know you do.’

  ‘Well yeah but Zan
e’s a hard nut to crack. If we start chalking pictures of cats on the walls of his house, he’s just gonna think it’s stupid.’

  ‘No, he won’t,’ I said. ‘Because there’s something about the night Jessica told us the story that you’ve all overlooked.’

  Max was the first one to smile. ‘The night Jess told this story… wasn’t the night Zane wet himself, was it?’

  ‘Exactly,’ I said. ‘He’s terrified of horror stories. He always had to have the light on after she told one. He only listened to that one cos he was too scared to go in another room by himself.’

  ‘I don’t know,’ said Corey slowly. ‘Is it worth it? I mean, I’m grateful you’re all willing to do stuff for me to get back at him and everything, but it seems like a lot of trouble to go to, starting a whole campaign of terror.’

  ‘It’s not just for you, Corey,’ I said.

  ‘Huh?’

  ‘I want to do this. I need to do this. I think it’ll help.’

  ‘What do you mean, help?’ said Max, levering himself up again. ‘Help with what?’

  I looked out towards the island. I held out my hands, palms down, showing them all my scabby knuckles. ‘With this.’

  Max looked at me.

  ‘I lied to you. I didn’t do this on the track. I’ve been punching the pillar in our lounge. I punch it until my hands bleed. And when the scabs come off, I go back and punch it some more.’

  Max sat right up, and tore his aviators from his face, staring at me.

  ‘I get so angry. Sometimes I need to lash out. Pound on something. It’s just how I feel.’ I looked at Max. ‘That’s why I’ve got Pete’s keys. He lets me use his punchbag in his garage now. Every time I feel like punching the crap out of something, it’s somewhere I can go and let off steam.’

  ‘Why didn’t you tell me this?’ said Max, coming over to my side of the picnic blanket.

  I shook my head. ‘Because I can’t explain why I do it. I just do. I feel… dangerous.’

  ‘But why are you so angry?’ asked Corey. A wind whipped up around us, blowing empty crisp packets across the grass. I got up and went to grab them, but when I came back they were all still waiting for my answer.

  Fallon was staring at me. For a flicker, my heart plunged, thinking she might say something about Neil; but yet again, I had underestimated her. ‘It’s ever since your mum left, isn’t it?’

  Telepathically thanking her, I ran with the decoy. ‘I guess I still resent her, yeah, for leaving Dad when he was going through his treatment and everything. And David moving away, as well – and Ollie never comes home now. Maybe it’s all of it, or none of it, I don’t know. But the other night, when we scared off the Shaws, it felt like it was going somewhere – the anger. It felt like it was being put to use. And the next morning, I didn’t need to hit anything. I haven’t felt like that in ages. That’s why I want to do it again. I want to do something about what’s making you angry, because I can’t do anything about what’s making me angry. Does that make any sense?’

  Max didn’t look sure at all, but Corey nodded.

  ‘It does to me,’ said Fallon, getting to her feet with Corey’s help. ‘Count me in. You helped me get rid of the Shaws – I’ll do whatever you say.’

  ‘Don’t Dare Fallon.’ Corey smiled.

  She smiled back. ‘I can’t kill anything though. I couldn’t kill an animal, unless it was already dead.’ We all started laughing at that.

  ‘I couldn’t kill anything either,’ said Corey, opening a pack of gummy snakes. ‘But I’m down for anything else.’

  ‘Good,’ I said. ‘How about you, Max?’

  ‘You know I am.’ He looked a bit sheepish.

  ‘You sure?’

  He nodded. ‘Yeah, I’m down for whatever too. May as well.’

  I put my hand over the centre of the picnic blanket. ‘All for one, and all that.’

  Corey put his hand on mine at once. Max mumbled about being childish, but covered Corey’s hand with his own, too. As Fallon reached out, though, she suddenly shrieked out in agony.

  ‘Ooooooohhhhh!’

  The boys jumped back off the blanket.

  ‘What?’ I said. ‘Oh God, Fallon, what is it?’

  ‘The baby!’ she said. ‘It kicked! A massive kick! Oh! It’s not ever done that before. I mean, it’s moved and sort of slithered about a bit, but not a proper kick. Ooh, it just did it again! Feel it! Feel it!’

  All together, we got up and put our hands on Fallon’s belly. And, almost at once, a tiny but powerful WHAM hit all our palms.

  ‘Bloody hell, what was that?!’ cried Max, snatching his hand away.

  ‘That was a foot!’ Corey shrieked. ‘That was definitely a little foot!’

  ‘Actually, I think it was a fist,’ said Fallon.

  ‘Yeah, it was! A fist!’ said Max.

  ‘Like an I’m in too fist?’ said Corey with a grin.

  Max smiled despite himself. ‘That was the baby saying, Hell yeah, let’s do this!’

  ‘So we are the Fearless Five after all.’

  For the next two hours, the four of us – or five, counting an increasingly lively Bump – chitchatted and schemed on top of that hill like escaped prisoners planning a dash across the border. Before long, my tiny army had outlined its plan of action as though it were a military manoeuvre – and we were all equally excited to go to war.

  *

  I had a text from Dad, saying he was coming back in the morning, so to celebrate my last night of freedom, we decided to have a takeaway from the Taste of the Orient and sleep over in the motorhome on our drive – Corey and Fallon on the fold-out bed, me and Max at the other end on the mattress topper, with the curtain the only thing dividing us.

  ‘Please don’t have sex,’ said Max, as he stood at the dividing curtain between the two ends of the caravan. Corey and Fallon were snuggling in to watch old episodes of Cash in the Attic on Corey’s iPad. ‘Last thing we wanna hear are your squelching noises. Besides, the suspension ain’t great on this thing.’

  ‘Last thing on my mind,’ said Fallon, as she glanced at Corey. His head was resting on her shoulder and he was already in an exhausted half-sleep, having blown his own mind with the amazingness of our Chinese takeaway. He’d spent the last hour alone talking about the marinade on the spare ribs.

  ‘’Night, Max. ’Night, Ella Bella Paella,’ he called out dozily.

  ‘’Night, Corey.’ I chuckled.

  Max drew the curtain across and climbed into bed beside me. After a pause, he spooned against me and held me around my waist, sighing into my neck.

  ‘He’s brilliant, isn’t he?’ I whispered. ‘So’s Fallon, I really like her. They’ve got not sides to them at all, have they?’

  ‘Yeah.’ Max chuckled. ‘Have you ever seen anyone so in love with a spring roll? And what’s the matter with Fallon’s doctor saying she was on the “autistic speculum”. She’s class.’

  ‘Aw, don’t take the piss out of her.’

  ‘What? You started it.’

  ‘Yeah, well, she’s sweet. She’s been a good friend to me.’

  ‘So why’d you dump her at school then?’

  ‘I didn’t dump her. We just… grew apart. So did you and Corey. And Zane.’

  ‘Well Zane brought that on himself.’

  There was a nervous pause. I could feel Max building up to say something. At last, he opened his eyes and let out a long rattling breath. ‘That was bullshit before, wasn’t it? When you said you were still angry about your mum leaving. I know it was. You don’t give a monkey’s about her.’

  I couldn’t think what to say. So I just said, ‘’Night.’

  ‘’Night,’ he returned, with a definite sigh.

  *

  The next time I opened my eyes, it was still dark outside the caravan and a light rain was pitter-pattering on the skylight. I looked across and Max was sitting bolt upright beside me, shivering. I reached out and pulled the curtain open a little way so I could see him more
clearly in the light from the street lamp outside. He was running with sweat.

  ‘Max? Are you all right?’

  He shook his head. He looked too petrified to move. I’d never seen him like that. It was like he was in a trance. His eyes were wide and staring out into nothing, his pupils like full stops. I levered myself up and placed my hand on his back. He winced.

  ‘Did you have a bad dream?’

  He nodded. ‘Same one.’

  ‘What do you mean? Have you had it before?’

  ‘A few times.’ He rubbed his face all over on the sheet. ‘Christ, I’m dripping. I need a smoke.’ He made to get out of bed but I stopped him.

  ‘What happens? In the dream?’

  ‘I don’t want to talk about it.’

  ‘Is it Jessica?’ Eventually, he nodded. ‘The bus?’ He nodded again.

  I held him and rested my chin on his shoulder. ‘You’re OK now. It’s all gone.’

  ‘Tell me why you’re angry,’ he said.

  ‘What?’

  ‘Tell me why you punch walls and kick off at stuff all the time.’

  ‘Max…’

  ‘Tell me why you won’t have sex with me.’ I opened my mouth to speak, but no words escaped. ‘It’s driving me crazy, Ella. You leave me paranoid cos you won’t say anything. And now all this stuff about you punching walls and using Hamlin’s gym. Tell me.’

  ‘Tell you what?’

  ‘Is he… hurting you? Has he… raped you?’

  I was a rabbit in the headlights, even though the caravan was dark. ‘Pete? No. Why would you think that?’

  There were snores on the other side of the curtain.

  ‘Because Wikipedia says the main reason a person is genophobic is cos of sexual abuse. Rape. If he’s grooming you I’ll kill him, I swear. I’d die if I thought anything like that had happened and I wasn’t there to stop it. Please tell me, Ella. I’m going out of my mind!’

  ‘Of course it wasn’t that,’ I said, praying he wouldn’t see my glowing red cheeks in the darkness. ‘Pete’s my friend, he wouldn’t do that.’

  His hand was shaking as he chewed a raggedy bit of skin on his thumb. ‘You swear?’

  ‘I don’t know why I’m like this, Max. But it’s not that. He hasn’t laid a finger on me.’