‘Really? Seems to me that ever since the other night you’ve been avoiding me.’
‘I haven’t!’ He frowns because he doesn’t believe me. ‘Why d’you think that? Please, Craig, I haven’t been avoiding you. I swear.’
‘All right. So you haven’t been avoiding me. What else?’
‘What d’you mean?’
‘Well, what have you come here for? What else have you got to tell me?’
I have no idea what he wants me to say and sit staring at my hands. The
EastEnders
theme tune plays in the background. We’re definitely finished. I don’t know why he wants me to say it, why I have to be the one. Rebecca was right about him all along, he’s a stupid pig. He got what he wanted and now he’s acting like we’ve never met. Suddenly I’m more angry than sad and I stand up and look him in the eye; it’s the look I give my mother when I want her to know how much I hate her.
‘Screw you, Craig. Screw you.’
I push past him back into the rain. His mum’s jeans bag around my waist and thighs and I clutch at myself as I start to run back the way I’d come only half an hour ago. I don’t know if I’m crying or not, the rain streaks my face, lashes at my clothes, weighing me down, trying to pull me under. As I run I mutter and swear, naming all the things I’d do to Craig if I could, all the names I’d like to call him, all the ways I’d like to hurt him. Cars roar by as I run down the main road, sending up fountains of water. Then a bike screeches up beside me, the headlights blare into my face and I shield my eyes from the glare and stop, panting, still raging.
‘What the hell’s the matter with you?’ he growls.
I don’t see what right he’s got to be angry with me.
‘Leave me alone!’
I forge onwards, pushing past, but he’s off the bike and grabbing me and holding me tight.
‘What’s going on, Hephz? What’s your problem?’
‘I haven’t got a problem!’ I scream into his face. ‘You’re
the bloody problem, you two-faced, evil, mean, pighead, shit …’ Shuddering with sobs I can’t finish my harangue and I collapse against him. All the misery of the past week comes pouring out and my tears are a torrent of sadness. He holds me for ages even though we’re both getting drenched. The branches of the horse chestnut can’t keep us dry and raindrops pool between us.
Still snivelling I pull away. ‘Sorry.’
‘No worries. Are you going to talk to me now or what?’
‘I have to get home. They’ll murder me if they know I’ve been out.’
Craig sighs and rubs the rain from his face. I run the short distance back home and slither my way up my tree and inside. Rebecca stares at me.
‘What are you wearing? Where on earth have you been? You’ve been ages.’
‘Did they notice?’
She shakes her head and I relax, pulling off the sopping clothes and draping them over the cold radiator in the hope that they might dry. Really they need wringing out in the sink but I daren’t risk it.
‘Did you find him?’
My nod isn’t enough for her.
‘What happened?’
‘Nothing.’
‘Oh, really? Then why’ve you been crying?’
‘Get lost, Rebecca. Stop living your life through me, would you? If you want something interesting to think
about then sodding well get your own boyfriend. And leave me alone.’
She shuts up. We go to sleep. I hope tomorrow is a better day.
When Craig and I should be at college the next day we drive to the coast instead. He picks me up as I’m walking to school and I leave Rebecca standing there like a lemon as we circle round and zoom out of the village. It’s freezing and we huddle inside Craig’s jacket under the pier. He tells me everything. It turns out that while they were dancing at his party Daisy had told Craig I’d been sleeping around. At first he hadn’t believed her but she’d insisted and even found someone to back up her story. Samara. I knew I shouldn’t have trusted her. If I hadn’t gone round to Craig’s last night and acted so crazy he’d still have believed her. As it was, he’d figured out that something didn’t quite add up. Eventually.
So we’re back together and Daisy is as sick as a pig. I’m never speaking to her again, I hate her. Craig agrees but he still hasn’t said he loves me even though I’ve had sex with him again. Actually, I’ve done it quite a few more times. It’s better than I thought it was going to be after the first time, when it was basically just uncomfortable, and we sneak off back to his house when we should be at college and spend the day in his bed. It’s nice. He brings me cups of tea and we smoke cigarettes and he plays his guitar. He hasn’t mentioned me moving in yet but I’m trying to be patient and playing it cool.
I can’t believe I keep getting away with it. Each day when I wake up I wonder if today’s the day I’ll be found out. But then, because I’m so happy and so almost free, I forget to worry and just carry on being a normal girl, doing normal things and falling in love.
After
Almost blind with panic, I ran out of the vicarage. I hadn’t known I could run like a cheetah, I hadn’t known I was so quick. Out of the room I crept, and down the stairs, first one flight and then another, swift and light, invisible in the growing darkness.
Shadows flickered on the walls and the ceiling glinted with the last of the day’s sun. I could just about see where I was going and fixed my eyes ahead, towards escape.
But I went too fast. In the hurry my feet tumbled over one another and I tripped down the last five stairs and on to the cold stone floor of the hall.
Get up, get up
,
come on
, I told myself and my legs lifted me again and I hurried to the heavy front door. It was hard to turn the key in the lock and I battled with the stiff, cold metal, trembling at the noise I imagined it made as it scraped a goodbye. Fumbling in my haste I was taking too long and I gathered all my strength to pull back the locks, wincing at the shunt and clunk of bolts drawn back and the moan of hinges as they cursed my departure. This house had been my prison for too long.
I threw back the door and shot out into the night. I hadn’t believed it was really still summer outside and the warm evening air felt like a kiss. I launched myself on to the path which led away, through the trees and under the stars, into the world beyond.
The gravel hurt my bare feet but I moved faster for it as I fled down the path and ran like a shadow on fire towards the pavement, wild and free, but nearly so weak I could have lain down there and then and slept for as long as it took to be new. Then, at the gate, I stopped just for a moment and turned. The vicarage loomed massive behind me, its door still open, a gaping mouth that led to the very depths of my past and would swallow me whole given one last chance. Suddenly, more afraid than I could bear, my legs wobbled and I thought they might give.
But you’re stronger than that!
I heard the wind whisper as a light flickered on and shadows moved at a window. They were coming. If they were to catch me! Adrenalin surged straight to my heart at the thought and I ran for the home next door, the only place I knew to go. It was dusk, the residents would be in bed and I prayed Danny would be there.
Suki opened the back door and I fell inside, unable to speak or breathe. Faces crowded me and I collapsed away from them into myself on to the floor. My legs had turned to water and I was a pool of fear. Someone gathered me up and lifted me to the day room, and I knew it was Danny by his strength. Around me and behind me the commotion
buzzed and hummed. I was still unable to hear a thing but I felt the crowd gathering round me, questioning. Finding a last ounce of strength I looked up from Danny’s arms and then I saw them. They had come for me. I caught a glimpse of their faces, puce with rage, yet still smiling through the blood. They stood there, talking at the door. They were pointing at me and talking so fast that I couldn’t read what they said. Danny put me down and faced them, blocking their way through.
The room stilled. I peered through my fingers to try again to read The Father’s lips.
‘This is just dreadful. We do apologize,’ The Father was saying. ‘Rebecca’s ill, delirious, we’ll take her home and call the doctor.’
‘She’s a little terror, you know, our Rebecca,’ The Mother added. ‘You know how troublesome teenage girls can be!’ I saw The Father shoot her a look, telling her to shut up and that he would handle this. She gaped her rictus grin.
Danny remained where he was, his back a barrier between them and me. I prayed he was strong enough to hold them off and that he understood that he was the only person standing between me and disaster. I’d seen The Father get his own way too many times to underestimate his power. He took a step forward, holding out his arms, and smiled, oh so sincere. I read my name on his lips again. He would fool Danny and take me back, say I was mad, tell any lie. I had to stop it. And now I knew I could.
When I spoke, Danny swung round.
‘Don’t let them take me. Please. Danny, don’t let them.’
He nodded straight away. As they surged forward he put out his arms, stepping back to throw up a wall around me, a barricade of love as strong as steel. Here were the arms of the father I’d never known and I sheltered behind them as other hands, the hands of my friends, Suki and Michaela, and the boss, Mrs Sweet, held The Parents away. They must have realized that there were too many people for them to overcome and, as heads turned to hear sirens coming towards us, they melted into the walls, running from everything that they had done, the consequences they now had cause to fear. Some kind soul had called for an ambulance. I was lucky, this time it wouldn’t be too late.
‘Have they gone?’ I whispered to Danny.
‘Yes, yes, you’re fine. They’ve gone. What happened?’ His face was shocked.
‘I don’t know. Don’t ask. Please?’ I whispered through my dry, cracked lips. I coughed to clear my throat and let my head droop.
I wondered if I ever would tell.
Before
When we break up for the Christmas holidays I get sick. I wonder if I’m just homesick for Craig, but it’s worse than that, it’s horrible; I feel weak and dizzy all day long and the sight of the food Mother cooks sends me running for the bathroom every time. But I still have to work, helping with the chores, preparing the church for the Christmas events, posting newsletters, attending the meetings and Advent services, cleaning the vicarage. Father works us harder than he ever has before. It’s like now we don’t have the excuse of college, he’s making up for every lost minute. Rebecca and I barely pause to breathe or eat, there’s always something else that needs doing. She covers for me when I feel really bad and sometimes I get to sneak upstairs and have a nap. But by the evenings I usually start to feel better and when I hear Craig’s bike out on the road I pull myself out of bed and
edge my way down to him. For some reason he’s fallen out with his mum and so we have to sit in pubs or at the bus stop. The sooner I move out the better. Maybe we could get our own place.
Craig asks me why I keep being sick. I explain that it’s probably just a virus.
‘You’re on the pill, aren’t you?’ he says. I have no idea what that means and so I nod quickly. His face instantly brightens. ‘Must be a bug then.’ And I nod again.
Later I ask Rebecca what he meant. She shakes her head and looks more worried than ever.
I long for the Christmas holidays to be over. We get so busy attending services that I don’t have the chance to sneak off and see Craig and I worry that he might come and knock on the door, like he’s threatened to when I’ve said I can’t see him. He’s made up with his mum and she wants my parents to go over to hers for mulled wine and mince pies. I say no and Craig looks upset.
‘How about you come over on Christmas Day, then?’ he suggests. ‘I haven’t seen you properly for ages. I could ask Mum if you could stay the night, I reckon she’d be cool about it. What do you think?’
‘No. I can’t do that.’ I’m nearly crying. I know that’s stupid but everything makes me blub right now.
‘All right. Whatever you say. Just don’t cry though? OK?’
I snivel and smile though I want to have a mega bawl. If only I had the courage to tell him my idea about me moving out for good, but if he shot me down and told me no, then that’d be worse than anything.
He shows up one night, the day before Christmas Eve, and I hear his moped puttering on the corner and lean out
of the window to shoo him away. It’s way too dangerous, Saint Roderick and Mother Maria are downstairs with a whole load of their cronies, Mrs Sparks and the gang, and he’s sober and alert, sipping tea and playing holy-holy. He’s excited because he’s almost important for once, and I’m supposed to be down there too, being Little Miss Perfect. He could be up any minute to drag me back to my duties. But Craig calls out that if I don’t go down he’ll come up, so I have to slither out of the window. I swear as I clamber hurriedly down the tree, snagging my clothes and tangling my hair.
‘What is it?’
‘Charming.’ He grins at me, determined not to be offended. I let him have a kiss.
‘Here.’ He fumbles in his pocket and thrusts a little box at me, a flat square box and I grab it out of his hand.
‘Shall I open it?’
‘No. It’s for Christmas Day. Since you won’t come over I thought I’d better do a special delivery.’
‘Thanks,’ I whisper, holding the package like someone might be about to snatch it from me.
‘You’re welcome. See you, then.’
I watch him go, sorry I have no present of my own, determined to open the box as soon as I can.
The silver chain with my initial hanging from it flows like magic in my hands. I swear I’ll never take it off and fasten it round my neck, sure it has special powers, sure that it’s a sign.
But the next day is Christmas Eve. And, despite all my protests, Craig shows up for the midnight mass with Pam. I can’t believe he’s done this. I’ve told him time and again not to come near the vicarage or the church, and here he is, slouching in and smiling at me. He’s wearing a smart overcoat I’ve never seen before and he looks handsome and older. I feel my heart beating in my ears and the pew begins to tilt beneath me, as if the world is spinning out of control, no longer suspended perfectly in the universe but falling fast towards the sun. Rebecca has seen them too and our eyes lock. We both understand that we are caught in the grip of something awful and that the catastrophe has come. Then Mother prods me upright with her sharp elbow and swings her head round, sensing and smelling my anxiety, and I know she knows. Her eyes settle on Pam and Craig sitting a few rows behind us and when Pam smiles at
her she snaps her head forward again, her eyes wide and staring at my father. There’s going to be trouble later.