Black Heart Blue

by Louisa Reid

  Even though I’m tired in the morning it doesn’t matter. We clean and scrub the church steps and I hum as we go. Rebecca’s eyes dart crossly in my direction, she can feel my anticipation and it’s driving her crazy. I’m so excited I almost tell her to come too, then remember what Daisy said and bite my lip. I don’t want people laughing at her. Or me. She wouldn’t know what to wear, or say, or do, and she’d hang around me the whole time. She could look better if she tried a bit harder. She’ll never be pretty or anything but really, once you’re used to her, her face isn’t that bad. Granny used to tell our parents they ought to take her to the doctors, the dentists, to hospital appointments for her hearing but they never did. Her hearing aids are old ones she got years ago when she had that fit after he hit her too hard and Mrs Sparks walked in so they had to take her to hospital. The nurses realized she couldn’t hear and they fixed her up. Of course he charmed his way out of the whole business without much problem. People are so gullible, as soon as he tells them he’s a vicar it’s like he’s said he’s Jesus or something. In the end they fitted her out with that screw on her head and the little box which sits on it and for a while she said it was like people were shouting at her all day long. It soon got broken though, and she’s back to mostly lip-reading now. If Mother snitches on me I’m going to tell about that too, about how they won’t let my sister get her ears sorted or have her teeth done or go for surgery. I looked it up on the Internet and there are things they can do now to help people with her syndrome, things I didn’t know about and I’m sure Rebecca has no idea of. When I’m free I’ll help her, I won’t leave her behind forever. Maybe she can even live with me and Craig, once he’s used to her, and we can be a proper family.

  It doesn’t take me long to get ready. I have a bath, even though it’s not allowed on a Saturday, or any day actually. But he’s out so I can. He says a basin of cold water will suffice, the idiot. I wash my hair with the tiny bit of shampoo I have been storing up for this moment. It smells delicious. I love my hair and now it’ll look and smell as gorgeous as it should. It’s long, dark gold and wavy, even prettier than Daisy’s. I pretend to be a mermaid and let it float around my face as I stretch out under the tepid water. Rebecca watches silently as I get dressed and dry my hair, then she comes over and sniffs.

  ‘What’s that?’

  ‘Whaddya think, stupid?’

  ‘Where’d you get it?’

  ‘Samara’s.’

  ‘Did you steal it?’

  ‘Just a bit.’ I try not to let her annoy me. ‘She wouldn’t even notice, they had loads.’ The last time I was round, I’d tipped as much as I could into a little plastic container I’d nicked from the science lab specifically for the purpose and I wasn’t going to feel guilty. Why should other people have all the nice stuff? I reckon I deserve some too.

  Rebecca goes quiet. She watches me.

  ‘Is there any left?’

  I stare at her and she blushes a deep tomato red. I nod slowly, ‘Yeah, a bit, why?’

  She shrugs and I root in my little bag and chuck the bottle over.

  ‘Here. You can have it, all right?’

  ‘Thanks.’ She nods and shoves the bottle under her mattress. Treasure. Rebecca’s hair’s nice too, not as thick as mine but still pretty when it’s clean and brushed. Hurrying to finish getting ready I put on the mascara, the blusher and lip gloss and turn for her assessment. She considers and then nods again.

  ‘You look nice.’

  ‘Oh, great, thanks a bunch.’

  ‘Well, what do you want me to say?’

  ‘Nothing. Forget it. I’m going now.’

  ‘Are you just going to walk out of the front door? Like that’s normal or something?’

  ‘Yes. That is precisely what I am going to do, Rebecca. See ya!’

  I dash out and down the stairs, the house is quiet and I’m pretty certain my parents still aren’t in, they’re probably next door in the church or visiting a parishioner. Which makes this my perfect opportunity. I hear my sister calling to me to be careful and pick up speed.

  Craig’s place isn’t far but I’m calling for Samara first and so make a little detour. I’m walking so fast that I’m almost running and I stop myself from looking back into the shadows. I keep expecting a hand to appear out of the evening gloom, to clamp itself on my shoulder and propel me back to the vicarage where it will enact its revenge. It’s no wonder I’m sweating by the time I get to Samara’s. She’s ready and we try to dash straight off but her mum pulls us inside and gives us the third degree and makes Samara put a jumper on. But eventually we get away and run giggling down the road.

  It’s only half eight when we get to Craig’s estate. I remind myself not to get drunk and puke this time, to be aloof and cool. I start forward for the house but Samara looks reluctant.

  ‘It’s too early.’

  ‘Oh. Is it?’

  ‘Yeah. No one gets to house parties this early.’

  ‘What should we do, then?’ I feel a bit silly all of a sudden.

  ‘Daisy’s going down the pub. Let’s see if we can find her.’

  I really don’t want to do that and am just thinking how to talk her out of it when a group of lads pulls up in a car outside Craig’s house. They pile out and up the drive, disappearing into the little house, which swallows them up whole.

  ‘See?’ I say, gesticulating, and we go closer, hearing the steady pump and pulse of music as we approach the house.

  The front door’s ajar, an open invitation, and we wend our way through the empty hall and front room into the kitchen. A couple of girls I don’t recognize are pouring wine and laughing, they look us over then turn back to their conversation.

  ‘Where’s Craig?’ I hiss at Samara.

  ‘How should I know?’ she hisses back and we stumble over the back step into the garden. Dark forms slowly morph into bodies as our eyes adjust again to the light, which is suddenly fading fast. The music’s louder here and I feel a surge of blood to my heart and my mouth goes dry as someone moves out of the shadows, walking towards us.

  ‘All right?’

  I nod. Samara nods. Craig pauses and looks me up and down. He doesn’t say anything. Then, ‘D’you want a drink?’

  ‘Yeah, please.’ I’ve already forgotten that I’m supposed to be being careful, and can’t wait for him to shove the cold bottle into my hand. The liquid tastes sweet and sharp and I take one swig then another. He hands me a cigarette too and, leaning close to light his own at the same time, the flame briefly illuminates his face and he smiles quickly into my eyes. Suddenly I’m having a good time.

  More people arrive and I talk to girls I know from college and others I’ve never met before. Craig introduces me to his older brother Jamie and he gives me another bottle of sweet sticky alcohol and makes me laugh about something stupid. The music’s louder and someone drags me to dance in the sitting room where disco lights are glimmering and glancing off the walls and all the furniture has been pushed to the sides of the room. I try to work out how the room really looks when it’s just a normal day and wonder how come Craig’s parents are letting him have this party. The thoughts don’t stay in my head long enough to be more than tiny sparks firing into space and I dance with the others. Because it’s dark it doesn’t matter and I think I look as good as anyone else and work hard to copy the way they sway and move, mouthing words I don’t know, grinning and swinging my hair, drinking from the endless supply of bottles which appear in my hand. What feels like hours later I realize I’m too hot and I struggle outside, hunting for air.

  On the front lawn I spot Daisy. I’ve never seen the guy she’s with before, he looks heaps older and has his arm tight round her shoulders, and hers just reaches round his waist. I lean against the wall of the house, feeling the rough brick press into my shoulders, and watch them for a while, waiting for the dizziness to settle. I don’t want to feel drunk but I do and I
wonder if I should sneak away now; I could make it home before I expose myself as an idiot in front of Craig. But if I do that I’ll have lost my chance and there may not be another. Before Daisy can spot me I go back inside and upstairs to find a bathroom. If I hide out until I feel OK then maybe that would be all right, but the bathroom’s locked and I need to find somewhere else to lie low. Going into what must be a bedroom I flick the switch and creep inside, feeling like a thief. It must be Craig’s room, it’s a bit of a tip and there’s a guitar and amplifier in the corner, clothes strewn over the floor, a huge pile of books by the unmade bed. Guiltily I make my way over to the bed and sit down among the tumble of covers. The room smells different to our bedroom at home. It feels different too. Less like a cage, more like a den. My body tells me to lie down and so I do and I’m pretty sure I’m smiling as I fall asleep.

  If Craig hadn’t found me and woken me up God knows what would have happened. My head’s banging and throbbing as I emerge from my sea of sleep and I immediately know I have to be sick. Pushing past him I dash for the bathroom and vomit. Tears come soon after and I perch on the side of the bath all shaky and ill. Someone knocks on the door and I know it’s Craig when he speaks.

  ‘Are you OK?’

  I can’t answer, there’s nothing to say.

  He tries again: ‘Can I come in?’

  I shake my head and rub my hands over my snotty, teary face; whatever make-up that had remained is now wiped in clownish stripes down my cheeks. Vomit rises and I remind myself I will never ever touch alcohol again. Craig comes in and I hide my face from him.

  ‘Here.’

  I hear the tap run and he’s holding out a wet cloth. I take it and let it hang uselessly from my hands so he grabs it back and lifts my face up and wipes away the mess. My eyes are shut so I don’t have to watch him pity me.

  ‘There. You’re all right now. How d’you feel?’

  ‘A bit better, thanks.’

  ‘Still feel sick?’

  ‘No. I don’t think so.’

  ‘Good. You coming, then?’

  He moves over to the door; I want to stop him, to keep him here, have him take care of me some more.

  ‘Is the party over?’ I ask at last.

  ‘Nah, it’s only one, still early, There’s loads of people still here. Come down. I’ll get you a drink.’ He sees my face and laughs. ‘Water, I mean.’

  I manage to laugh too and he grabs my hand as we go back down the stairs and squeeze through the throng in the hallway and into the kitchen, which seems to have shrunk to half its original size. He shoulders people out of the way, pulling me with him, and eventually we find ourselves a corner by the sink. I’m firmly wedged into the space and Craig is between me and the rest of the world. He hands me a glass of water and I gulp it down.

  ‘Better?’

  I nod, this time meeting his eyes.

  ‘Good.’ He smiles at me, a real smile, and before I realize it he’s moved his face next to mine and our lips are almost touching. He can’t kiss me in the kitchen, I think, he can’t, and he doesn’t, instead he whispers in my ear.

  ‘You look prettier without the make-up, you know.’

  ‘Thanks a lot.’

  He steps back and shrugs and now his smile has disappeared. I touch his sleeve.

  ‘Can we go outside? I need some air.’

  He pulls me through the crowds again, people try to stop him as we go but he keeps moving until we’re in the back garden, where we began, hours ago. We perch on a couple of plastic chairs on the little paved patio. I stare out into the darkness, I sense Craig staring too.

  I don’t want him to abandon me but I can’t think of a thing to talk about that will keep him there next to me. So I say the first thing that comes into my head.

  ‘How come your parents let you have this party?’

  ‘They don’t know.’

  ‘Oh my goodness, what are they going to do when they find out?’

  ‘Dunno.’

  ‘Aren’t you worried about the place getting trashed?’

  He shook his head. ‘People round here know us. They wouldn’t.’

  I’m intrigued. ‘What do you mean?’

  He doesn’t answer, gives his customary shrug.

  ‘Do you really think I look horrible with make-up on?’ I blurt out. Totally uncool.

  ‘I didn’t say that, did I?’ He sighs. ‘I just like girls when they look pretty, you know, natural. That was what I noticed about you first. You looked … fresh, different or something.’

  How could I have looked fresh? Shut up in that vicarage, day in, day out, we barely left the place unless it was on some miserable errand.

  ‘Oh,’ I say.

  ‘Yeah, whatever, you do what you want though. People should always do what they want.’

  ‘I agree. That’s why I came tonight. My parents don’t know I sneaked out, but I wanted to come so I did.’ I sound pathetic. I should never have started this conversation but sometimes I just want to tell someone everything.

  ‘Why wouldn’t they let you?’

  He’s looking at me more intently now as if he really wants to know and I know that I can’t give him the real answer after all.

  ‘Because I’m only sixteen. Because they’ve never met you. I dunno. It’s just they’re over-protective of us.’ I play it down. ‘You know what it’s like, they think all kinds of stuff might happen.’

  ‘Will you be in deep shit when you get back, then?’

  ‘No, Rebecca, my sister, will cover for me.’

  Damn, I hadn’t meant to mention her but she’s just slipped out, like she’s been dying to make an appearance all evening.

  ‘Your sister?’

  ‘Yeah.’

  He fishes his cigarettes out of his back pocket and offers me one. I shake my head.

  ‘How come you aren’t getting drunk?’ I ask, watching him smoke.

  ‘No point.’

  ‘Don’t you ever?’

  ‘Nope. I smoke weed now and then but I can take it or leave it, the same with booze.’

  Good, we can be sober together, I think.

  ‘Are you really going to university? Daisy told me.’

  ‘Maybe.’

  ‘What will you study?’

  ‘Medicine, I reckon. If I get in.’

  ‘Why wouldn’t you?’

  ‘I don’t reckon the teachers are going to give me good references, do you?’

  ‘You’ll have to start coming to college, then.’

  He stares at me like I’m mad for a minute and then nods slowly. ‘Maybe. My mum would love that.’

  ‘Where is she?’

  ‘Off with her boyfriend, some shitty little weekend away they had planned.’

  ‘Don’t you like her boyfriend, then?’

  ‘Sharp, aren’t you?’

  I shut up, not liking his tone. Suddenly he’s tense again and I edge uncomfortably on the chair and rub my arms, which are goose-pimpled in the night air.

  ‘Here.’ Craig is pulling off his sweatshirt and hands it to me. I pull it on, snuggling into what’s left of his body heat and turn to thank him, but his face is right there and this time he really does kiss me. It’s hot and cold all at once, his mouth tastes of cigarettes and something sweet, syrup or sugar. I kiss him back, like he’s kissing me, and I don’t want him ever to stop. We sit there like that, just kissing and not even talking, for ages. He puts his arms round me and pulls me close and I smile as his mouth covers mine again and again. But it can’t last forever. I have to go, I tell myself, and eventually I pull away.

  ‘I’d better get back.’

  He nods and stands, pulling me to my feet. I wonder how I’ll find my way in the dark and worry about what I might meet. I look at his watch, pulling his arm and pushing up his sleeve. Three a.m. Please don’t let me get caught now, please don’t let this ni
ght be spoiled. At the front of the house I pause, ready to say goodbye, but he carries on walking with me and we kiss and walk, kiss and walk all the way home. He doesn’t want to talk much when we’re not kissing and I don’t mind, I’m just glad he’s there. The vicarage rears up in front of us way too soon. I pull him to a stop and whisper goodbye.

  ‘I can’t come in, then?’ He pulls a mock disappointed face and I give him a play frown.

  ‘See you on Monday,’ I say instead. ‘Please come to college.’

  He nods. ‘OK. For you.’

  Then I sprint away, up the path and round the back, in and up the stairs and collapse into my bed. The whole house is silent, my breathing sounds like an invading army and I’m sure I must have woken someone somewhere. The room reverberates with the thudding of my heart, I can hear it boom and I huddle under the covers trying to silence the racket. But I’m smiling like a crazy girl. I’ll never stop smiling again.

  Rebecca

  After

  It took me another week to really believe I could do it. I wasn’t sure I’d be safe, going all that way; I was sure to get lost and no one would help me and then I’d never find my way back. The world was a sea of danger and I could easily drown out there.

  Rubbish. You talk a whole load of rubbish, Rebecca. You’ll be safer out there than here!