Apples

by Milward, Richard

  ‘You alright, honey?’ Abi asked, rubbing my thigh. It caught me off guard and a bit of Carling went down the wrong way; I tried not to splutter it all over her. I gasped and smiled. I was a stupid idiot. Abi was giving me all these strange come-hither signals, but she had loads of admirers at school and there was no reason for her making a move on me. I had mashed potato for a head. To be honest I thought she was taking the piss out of me and I found her faintly irritating.

  Abi kind of screwed her face up, then flipped a Regal out of her bag and sucked on that instead. I watched her blow the sky out of her mouth. Ever since the disco incident I had a shopping list of things to do to get macho, for instance drinking, smoking, muscles, haircut, clothes, swearing, pumping. It’s weird sometimes having to be fake just to get what you want, but everyone’s doing it. I never really wanted to smoke in my life, but I had to start somewhere and I went to Abi, ‘Can I get a bit of that?’

  I nodded at the Regal, and she crunched her forehead then passed it over. I headrushed. Burny used to slag off kids on the playground never taking any of the smoke back, but I was swallowing it all down my gullet and it was sickening. On programmes like Saved by the Bell or Neighbours it’s always the geeks who cough out the first puff – I resisted the temptation but my throat was spasming and I was obviously screwing my face up. I sat there and smoked away without inhaling at all. I felt the big man.

  And just then Eve and the girls wandered in. I got a twisty feeling in my tummy, looking at them all dressed to kill and not knowing what to do with myself. I just sat and tried to hold the Regal in a charismatic way. I wondered if I should keep glancing or play hard to get or muscle my way over, but in the end it was Abi who did the honours. Abi held my hand as we swept over to the bar – I wanted to look like I was going out with her and not at the same time. Luckily I dragged my pint with us so I had something to do while Abi hugged Rachel and chatted and pretended I didn’t exist. I kept playing with the cuffs of the maroon shirt and I hated myself for it. I couldn’t keep still. After a bit I realised Eve was catching my eye, and as she came over I got in a whirl of nerves and emotion and the neon lights began twirling.

  ‘Is that a ladder in your tights or a stairway to heaven / Did it hurt when you fell from heaven / Get your coat love you’ve pulled,’ is what I could’ve said, but instead there was silence and I went, ‘Er hello.’

  ‘Hey, how you doing?’ she asked, her eyes hovering a little on my scabs. By accident my hand went up there, but that was pretty scabby too after the incident with the mirror. At least the eye-patch was gone – I’d stayed at home while I was getting healed, but even odd jaunts to Easterside Bells resulted in Pretty Polly and peg-leg jokes.

  ‘Not too bad. You having a good night?’ I asked, shifting from foot to foot. At home in your dreams it seems so easy to come across as a Cary Grant type full of one-liners, but in reality I could hardly speak to anyone without quaking or trying to hide behind the sofa.

  ‘Yeah, it’s okay. Who you out with?’ Eve asked, and I pointed at Abigail Ellis. ‘Are youse an item then?’

  ‘Naw,’ I said. Eve was absolutely stunning; she was born with Barbie bones and Sindy curves, whereas I felt more like a plastic dog-crap. For all I knew some hard-case was about to come and knock my block off again. And I carried on flinching and twitching.

  ‘You’re not still bothered about Gaz, are you?’ she went. I wondered if it was that obvious I was a mental patient. She grabbed the side of my face so I could hear in all the noise, and went to me, ‘Don’t worry about him. He’s a dick.’

  The words were angels’ trumpets. I touched her hip, and suddenly everything felt good. In fact it was like the black cloud above my head had toddled off. Girls’ hands were all over me, and I was growing up. Oh god and I was smoking as well – I reached over to Abi and plucked another cigarette from her hand, making sure to blow it all round me and Eve. I wrapped us up in a little white blanket. She looked all surprised, and she also looked blurry when she asked me, ‘How long you been smoking, you bad boy?’

  I pulled the cherub face, then lied, ‘Aw about six month. On and off, you know.’

  It was the sort of thing you’d hear Burny saying. After that night I wasn’t even sure I wanted to smoke at all, it happened to be smelly and clench your lungs up and get your fingers yellow. But the point of it was looking cool and being naughty and at least I’d done that. I smoked about five more that night, putting them out well before the sickly end and not even taking them back. The only feeling I got was feeling ever so dirty in the morning.

  Eve

  Sparkly two-inch heels, sky-bluey dress, glitter bag, gold necklace, bangle earrings, the Urban Decay eyeshadow and ruby glaze lips, Natasha’s mascara black or was it brown, blue eyeliner out of Avon, wax legs, a couple of gold rings and French Connection watch, Burberry Brit, high ponytail, white Calvin Klein underwear, and my dad’s twenty pound. All of that as I staggered down Beechwood Avenue.

  We purchased more ecstasy on Friday night, and we continued to get off our heads. I suppose if you were to die tomorrow you’d hope you made the most of your life on earth, but it was hard thinking about that with Mam so ill. Me and my sisters chipped in for a Chinese from Marton shops, and we crunched prawn crackers round the telly taking care of her. She was home again and pretty delicate, and she had hard breathing but you got used to that after a while and gossip-wise she was her usual self. Mam told us all the nurses’ names and who they were sleeping with. It was total luxury listening to her, and if it wasn’t for Jenni leaving four missed calls on the Motorola I might not have bothered going out at all. I paid special attention to kissing and cuddling Mam in case it was the last time I ever saw her, then I made a dash out the house because it was getting late late late.

  Me and Jenni had another bottle of poppers from the adult shop, and by the time it got to seven I was seeing a yellow spot. We walked around with that hot feeling in our skulls, laughing at nothing. Jenni looked like a Simpson. It was frosty out, and we tried to keep high snuggling the liquid gold in our mitts. The rest of the girls met us by the crossing, and we shared round the nitrate giggling at each other’s clothes. Rachel broke the rules, coming out in a mini-skirt and a very booby top – she was cruising for a spiking. Despite the yellow vision, I sniffed up another full breath on the way to the bus stop, and I started blinking red and green and all the other colours of the rainbow. We were shivering so we got the 27A from Keith Road rather than trekking to Belle Vue, plus it could be crazy and scary down there at that time and we were innocent girls. Speaking of which, Claire had been on the phone that afternoon with the Baby Boy – she wasn’t intending on going back to school any time soon, but I said I’d come over in a day or two. Mam reckoned she was throwing her future away having the kid, but I guess you’ve just got to make the best you can with whatever you have. Claire was never that good at maths, but she’d be a super mam.

  You trying to pull tonight? Debbie asked Rach, and we all creased up. I’d come out pretty glamorous too, but I wasn’t interested in one- or twoish-night stands any more – sure you get that rush of having a good fuck and you get to pretend you care about someone for a bit, but I hated the feeling of not really giving a shit about any of them. The worst ones were those I was embarrassed about Mam or Natasha or Laura seeing in the morning. Those ones always phoned you as well.

  Depends if there’s any hotties out, Rachel replied. All I wanted was a relationship with someone kind and caring and non-smoking – Rachel was an idiot if she was only fooling around with Dan. He was wasted on her. We managed not to slip over as we strode past litter and iced-over puddles, but my high-heels were killing already and it was hard not to skid on the dossed concrete. Thank god the bus came then – we were icicles, and a few smackheads were pinching cigarette butts out of the slush as we ducked under the shelter. Me, Jenni, Debbie, Rachel and Gracie were out, but there’s no strength in numbers when you’re wearing skimpy clothes and you’ve had your nails done. T
he bus was empty so we laughed and had a bitch about a few people from school and I got more and more relaxed. I wanted to get monged and forget all the hassle. Jenni wanted to make a popper tab so she took out one of her superkings and dipped it in the bottle, and we looked cool as anything sucking on an unlit ciggy. For thirty seconds the bus got quite trippy and we felt silly and rather exuberant. There were no more yellow spots like.

  As per usual we walked first to the Royal Exchange, since the drinks were cheap and there was usually a lot of people from Brackenhoe there. It was pretty scruffy, but me and the girls just stood and bopped around and it was our kind of music. The usual big dickheads were out; the boys who weave their way into your circle and stare at you like you’ll drop everything and get off with them. We looked at each other and laughed our faces off. Contrary to popular belief sometimes girls just want to have fun with their friends, not get hounded by idiots and nonces. We took it in turns to get drinks, and we were starting to feel quite wrecked. Now and then we took drags off the popper tab, and I got another head full of sunshine – thank heavens no one offered to light it.

  Boys were dogs. They all wanted to pump their big sloppy dicks inside you then not see you ever again, and try it on with someone else. Girls on the other hand were more sophisticated and mature, and I walked arm in arm with Debbie to get more mortalled. We spotted Abi Ellis coming over, and we bobbed our heads so we wouldn’t have to talk to her. I never liked Abi but to her face I was always friendly enough – she used to come to Rachel’s birthday barbecues when we were in Beechwood Juniors, and nowadays she was quite the school bitch. However, I had no respect for anyone who got their miaow out all the time for boys on the playground, even if they were only six years old at the time. I didn’t feel particularly racist towards her, after all Debbie was the blackest girl this side of Saltersgill field – in fact me and Deb were probably just jealous of her blowjob lips and tanning. Abi wasn’t even half-caste anyway – I think she was quarter Spanish or something like that.

  What you drinking? I asked Debbie, just for the sake of saying something. I still had loads of Dad’s twenty left, and we decided to get tanked up on cherry vodka. We stood and slurped and stared on at Abi, our faces set in that position you get from ponytailing too tight.

  God look who’s here, Debbie said suddenly. We clocked that poor boy Adam stood nearby cuddling a pint of Carling. He had on this maroony shirt which actually complimented his blotchy scars, and I was impressed. I decided to go over and say hello – I hadn’t seen him much since Christmas, and you had to have a soft spot for him even if he was a bit dreary.

  Hey, how you doing? I asked, looking him in the eye. He seemed very awkward, and I wasn’t sure if it was because he liked me or because he didn’t. I felt like I’d been a bit of a bitch to him, but I couldn’t put my finger on it. I did like him.

  Not too bad, he replied. You having a good night?

  It was only just kicking off really – I wasn’t half as wrecked as I wanted to be. I flicked my hair back and said, Yeah, it’s okay. Who you out with?

  He pointed at Abi. Adam was nothing like her – he was shy and super-sensitive; the kind of boy who’d be perfect for you if only he wasn’t a fruitcake. A few times I’d caught him opening and shutting things over and over, such as his pencil-case and pack-lunch boxes. For all I knew he could’ve been a psycho, but I think he was just nervous around people and wasn’t dead sure how to hold himself. A sheltered child. I downed the rest of the vodka and went to him, Are youse an item then?

  Naw. While we talked I watched him fiddle with his scabs and get a bit twitchy, bless him. I suppose I was that gorgeous though, I sometimes had that effect on boys. I tried to calm him down, but stroking his cheek just made it worse and I asked, You’re not still bothered about Gaz, are you?

  He backed away slightly like I was going to whack him in the head. I couldn’t understand why some people were like that – it was like all he wanted to do was hide in a seashell all the time. If I was him I’d get myself a girlfriend and have a bit of fun in my life for a change. I pushed my dimples out and added, Don’t worry about him. He’s a dick.

  But then he went and spoiled it all and took a cigarette off Abi. It was obvious he was trying to impress me, but with my mam bleeding her lungs out back home the worst way to get into my knickers was smoking. I got a bit pissed off then, like he’d let me down but in the end I wasn’t that fussed and I said, How long you been smoking, you bad boy?

  Aw, about six month. On and off, you know.

  I nodded and decided to get another drink. He was an idiot. You’d think after six month he’d at least learnt how to inhale it – even I knew that. I spent more money on Aftershock and lemon-lime vodkas – it was time to get off my face and not talk to smokers. I began to cheer up once Abi and Adam swanned off, and me and the girls danced as the drinks began to kaleidoscope inside us. Deep down in my heart I knew I’d embarrass myself, but I kept on downing the bevvies and just not worrying about a thing. I wasn’t sure if I’d had it completely with boys, but they were very irritating. This lad called Ben came up to us – the same Ben that cheated on me at Empire, though he was incredibly scrumptious and still good mates with Gracie. He used to babysit her. It was hard to take him 100 per cent serious, but he had a few Ferrari pills and I borrowed one off him and necked it down. We continued to use the popper tab. It was madness! Floating around the dry-ice looked all patterned like a magic carpet, and the people were all funny and glowing around us. The night was a fireball. Me and Ben chatted for a short while – I never realised he took pills, and we raved for a bit about them. I tended to get the hots for any boy with free Es, but still in the back of my head they were all shits and it was only one tiny tablet. I wasn’t that loved-up. At one point I almost wanted to find Adam and tell him about my mam and the cancer – more than anything I didn’t want anyone to smoke themself to an early grave, but I was coming up and I didn’t want to talk to him on narcotics. He was strange and I was an angel.

  At the end of the night we strolled to Pizza 2000, everyone bored and knackered except me and Benny. I stumbled about on rollerskates. A few other lads who’d latched on to us followed us past Fresco, and I held hands with Ben but I definitely wasn’t going to get off with him. A few times my bum got felt but I didn’t say anything. I needed a sit-down, and the whole pizza shop was stuttering before my eyes. You could tell we were on something. I declined another popper tab Jenni made with her second-last cigarette. I felt unusual, this spitty stuff leaking into my cheeks, and I asked around for water but there were just doughs and doner meat. It looked like all of us had paired up – Ben was trying to get dirty with my bare thighs, and Debbie and Gracie were both getting stuck into some boys from the street. Jenni was getting poppered up with some freak from the Ex, and they giggled their heads off and I thought they were pretty foolish. Rachel was the only one looking lonely on the benches, but then again she looked lovely.

  We laid about. I’d gone overboard. And the night was a cyclone. When the food came Debbie let us steal some strips of doner meat, but on the doves me and Ben had to decline and in any case the garlic dip looked a bit like a man’s cum. Ben smuggled in a few cans of Stella, and he cracked one open while taxis and police cars bombed past outside. I was trying not to gurn, that bunny-face being the only nuisance about taking pills for a pretty girl. I was more spaced-out than supercharged though, and I smiled and rested my head on Ben’s shoulder. He said I could share a bit of Stella with him, but it was a bad idea. I guess I just wasn’t the antisocial type. I nearly hurled as I gulped it – that yeasty taste always reminded me of a sick science experiment, and the last thing I wanted to think about was Brackenhoe. The mix of alcohol and class As sometimes had its drawbacks, and I started getting juddery. I wanted my ducks bed cover, and I whispered to Ben, I think I’d better go home.

  And that’s when I realised my keys were missing. I clawed through the glitter bag all exasperated and dizzy, everything going wro
ng around me. I couldn’t remember putting them anywhere silly, but it was only a few months back I lost my purse in Zantia and everything got stolen. I almost weeped as I rummaged round the benches for something metal and shiny, but there were just old takeaway wrappers. My teeth felt soft and I was in agony. I wanted a glass of water. My belly killed, and I looked at Ben and he said to me, You can come back to mine if you want.

  I just wasn’t in that place though. I blew him off slightly, then I had to go outside and make a phone call. I figured Natasha or Laura might still be awake, or as a last resort Fairhurst or someone would be able to give me a lift. In fact Fairhurst was always pretty caring and I thought about phoning him first, and I wondered why I dumped him in the first place. And that’s when I realised my phone was missing. And that’s when I started being sick.

  Toast, tea, chicken fried rice, half bag of prawn crackers, lemonade, popper taste, double vodka-Red Bull, cherry vodka, one blue Aftershock, a few Bacardi Breezers, lemon-lime vodkas, Ferrari, sip of Ben’s Stella. All of that as I staggered down Wilson Street.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Black Lungs Two

  Streetlights

  Abi Ellis had a habit of stirring shit. The last thing she said to Adam before they got split up was, ‘I hate Eve. She’s up her own arse; you’re miles too good for her.’

  It was the last thing he wanted to hear. You know how drones do what they can to get laid by the queen bee, that was sort of how Adam saw Eve. He completely wanted to buzz off her. It took Eve ages to realise Adam even existed, but he was nice and it was quite like Eve to go round with her head in the clouds. Or up her own arse, or whatever. But she didn’t exactly have it easy – her mam was dying of lung cancer, and at that very moment Eve was spewing up outside the Pizza 2000. She was in a sad mood – she lost her keys and her phone, and she didn’t know what she was going to do. She wandered aimlessly round Wilson Street, blurry eyes, and at about 1:35 she spotted Adam walking around in the swarm of people. He wasn’t her best mate, but in times of crisis you tend to grab on to any old friendly face.