Fifty Fifty (11 page)

He was so grateful for the fog. It was like a huge invisibility cloak. It meant he didn’t have to look behind him all the time for fear that someone would read his mind and drag him back
to school, and it made the fog inside his head feel less oppressive. It was only after walking for ten minutes that he realised the next part of the plan required a phone, and he didn’t have
the faintest idea where to find a phone box. He couldn’t see more than a few metres in any direction. Slowly the fog wrapped itself tighter around him, making it hard to breathe.
Ha
ha,
the fog whispered.
Gotcha.

Suddenly a colourful shop front appeared, and Gil pushed the door open. A bell tinkled, and a man turned from behind a counter.

‘We not open,’ he said. ‘Later. Twelve noon. Sorry.’

It was a Chinese takeaway.

‘It’s OK, I don’t want to buy anything,’ Gil said. ‘I just need a phone. Do you know if there’s a phone box anywhere round here?’

‘We have payphone,’ said the man. He pointed to the end of the counter. ‘You need make call?’

‘Oh. Yes. Thanks.’

Gil had to tip most of the contents of his bag out on the floor before he found the animal rights number. The man watched him all the time.

‘You OK?’ he said at last. ‘Why you not in school?’

‘I’ve got an appointment,’ Gil said. ‘I just need to phone someone. I’m not sure where I’m going.’

The man half-nodded, but didn’t move.

‘Dial first,’ he said. ‘Wait for answer. Then put money.’

The phone rang and rang and rang, just as it had the night before. Gil stood with the receiver pressed too tightly to his ear, clutching a fifty pence piece, ready to drop it into the slot. Then
with a little click the answerphone message cut in again. The payphone began to bleep frantically. Crap, thought Gil. There’s still no one there. Now what do I do?

‘Hello?’ said a woman’s voice suddenly.

Gil pushed in the fifty pence piece just in time.

‘Hello?’ said the voice again.

‘Hi,’ Gil said. ‘I’m sorry to bother you, but I need to speak to – to . . .’ He swallowed, trying to make his tongue feel less like a potato in his mouth.

‘Who?’

‘Jude. A guy called Jude.’

‘Jude? Are you sure? I don’t think I know anyone . . .’The woman’s voice trailed away into silence. The payphone started to bleep again and Gil shoved in a pound
coin.

‘You must know Jude,’ Gil said. ‘He gave me a booklet with this number on it. He does the animal rights stall in town. Have you got a phone number for him?’

‘Who
are
you?’ The woman sounded suspicious.

‘I’m a – a friend of Jude’s. I met him last week. Please, I really need to talk to him.’

‘I don’t give out people’s personal phone numbers,’ the woman said sharply. ‘You could be anybody.’

‘I’m not anybody, though.’ Gil cast around in a panic for something he could say to stop the woman putting the phone down on him. ‘Can you – would it be all right
if you called Jude and asked him to call me back? It’s really important.’

‘Just a minute.’ The woman was sounding very irritated now. Her voice was muffled for a while, as if she had her hand over the mouthpiece. Then without warning she snapped,
‘Name?’

‘Sorry?’ said Gil.

‘Name. Your name.’

‘Oh, sorry. Gil Walker.’

‘Number?’

‘Um – just a sec,’ Gil said, searching every available surface of the phone. He couldn’t see a number written anywhere. When he picked up the phone to look underneath it,
the takeaway man silently pointed to a piece of paper sellotaped to the counter. Gil read out the number and the woman hung up immediately.

‘They’re phoning me back,’ Gil said to the takeaway man, more confidently than he felt. The man moved up the counter to stack menus, but he still looked suspicious, as if he
expected Gil to pull a knife on him and raid the till. What’s the problem? thought Gil grumpily. I’m in school uniform, for God’s sake. It’s not like I’m even wearing
a hoodie.

The wait seemed endless. Maybe Jude was asleep. His phone might be off. Or he might be busy doing something heroic and impressive. Or maybe Jude wouldn’t remember anything about him.
Gil?
he might say.
I don’t think I know anyone called Gil. Must be a hoax.

No, of course Jude would remember him. It was only two days since he’d had the showdown with Dad in town. But what if Jude didn’t want to see him? And what if the woman that Gil had
just spoken to didn’t even bother to pass on the message?

Gil felt dizzy. He shut his eyes and immediately a parade of wounded animals appeared in his head, marching slowly and painfully. Dad was behind them, forcing them to go faster, and scattering
little white blobs on either side of him as if he was sowing seeds. ‘Live,’ he said as he flung a handful of blobs to the right of him. ‘Die,’ he said as he threw blobs to
his left.

The phone rang and Gil snatched at it, praying it wasn’t an early customer for the takeaway.

‘Hi,’ he gulped. ‘It’s Gil. Is that . . .?’

‘Gil! It’s good to hear from you!’ Jude’s voice was cheerful and comforting. A great flood of relief washed over Gil. ‘Are you at home?’

‘No, I’m not. I need to come and see you. Now, if possible.’

‘Oh. Is this about what happened on Saturday?’

‘Yes.’

‘Oh, God, I upset you, didn’t I?’ Jude sounded concerned. ‘I’m sorry, I should have kept my bloody mouth shut. I’m really sorry.’

‘
You
haven’t upset me,’ Gil said. ‘Jude, can I just come and talk to you? I need to sort a few things out. In my head, I mean.’

‘All right. Come to my place. Where are you now? Somewhere near your school?’

‘Yes.’

‘OK, I’m on the other side of town. It’s a bit of a trek – you need to get yourself on a number fifteen bus, and get off just past Tesco on the Chesapeake Road. Do you
want me to meet you?’

‘I’ve got a street map,’ Gil said. ‘If you just give me the address.’

Jude dictated his address slowly, then his mobile number.

‘If you can’t find me,’ he said, ‘give me another call.’

‘I haven’t got a phone,’ said Gil.

‘There’s a call box in Tesco. Give me a call from there. See you in a bit.’

‘Thanks,’ Gil said.

The man from the Chinese takeaway watched him all the way back out into the fog.

As the bus bumped across town the fog started to clear. The sky became whiter and whiter until it was too bright to look at, and then the sun appeared like a ghost, even paler
than the sky. By the time Gil reached Tesco on the Chesapeake Road there was enough sunlight to cast faint shadows.

Gil had never been here before. There was no reason to come to this part of town. He didn’t know anyone who lived here, and if he and Mum went to Tesco it was always the giant superstore
at the retail park. This Tesco was smaller and scruffier, wedged between little shops with goods that spilled out on to the pavement – greengrocers selling vegetables he couldn’t
identify, and discount stores with piles of plastic boxes and cheap toys.

Gil pulled out his city map again to make sure he knew where he was going. Albert Street, second on the left. He walked past a pub with hundreds of cigarette ends trodden into the pavement
outside, past a mobile phone repair shop as small as a telephone box, then a kebab shop, and a place that looked like a jeweller’s with a sign in the window that said,
Cheques cashed.
Offers made on all jewellery.

Albert Street was a short road of houses with a big brick church built right across the bottom of the street. A couple of the small front gardens were piled full of old sofas and mattresses.
Rubbish trickled out of people’s gates. There was no one around, but the street made Gil nervous. It was a dead end, and Jude lived all the way down at number thirty.

He counted houses to calm himself down. Sixteen. Eighteen. Twenty. Twenty-two. Nearly there now. Look, there was Jude’s house, behind a low wall. The curtains were still closed in the
downstairs window, and the gate swung open into the street.

Gil was on the path that led up to the front door before he properly noticed the body lying in the garden.

She was face down, with her legs across the path. She didn’t move. The front door was open, but Gil would have to step over her to get to it. Oh God, was she dead? What was he supposed to
do? There was a groan from somewhere underneath the body, and one of the arms jerked a bit. It was too much for Gil. He raced back to the main road and dived into the safety of Tesco. It was a few
minutes before he could get it together enough to phone Jude.

‘Jude here.’

‘Jude, it’s – it’s me. Gil.’

‘Hey, Gil! Where have you got to?’

‘I found your house,’ Gil said, ‘but – but —’ He had to swallow hard after every word, as if they were marbles in the back of his throat. ‘There’s
– someone – lying – on your – path. A wo–woman. I – can’t – get to the – door.’

‘Oh, it’s Sally again, is it? Don’t worry, I’ll sort her out. You’re in Tesco, are you?’

‘Yeah.’

‘Come back, and I’ll meet you outside.’

When Gil got there, Jude was kneeling on the path. The woman had her head in his lap. She was sobbing in a way that reminded Gil of Mum the day before, when she’d broken the plate in the
kitchen. It sounded as if she would never be able to stop. Jude reached across and took a can out of her hand, and then tipped the contents away at the side of the path. A small river of golden
liquid ran down towards Gil’s feet.

‘She’ll be all right in a minute,’ Jude said, looking up at Gil. ‘Can you get up, Sally?’ he said to the woman.

She got herself to her knees and then Jude held her arm while she struggled to her feet. She stood, leaning on him, swaying a bit. Her hair was stuck to her wet face.

‘It’s in my head,’ she whispered. ‘They’ve put something in my head. Something – I don’t know what it is. It’s growing in there. It’s
telling me what to do. It hurts.’ She started to cry again.

‘Sally, there’s nothing in your head,’ said Jude. ‘I promise you. They don’t do that to human beings. Only to animals.’

Sally suddenly turned to gaze at Gil with eyes that stared too widely, and he wanted to run away.

‘You’re a nice boy,’ she said wonderingly. ‘What are you doing here?’

‘He’s my friend,’ said Jude. ‘He’s come to see me.’

‘Don’t let them put anything in your head,’ said Sally. ‘They did experiments on me. They’re trying to turn me into a dog without my permission.’ Without any
warning at all she barked at Gil, so loudly and fiercely that he began to back away out of the gate, and then she started to laugh.

‘Stop it,’ said Jude firmly. ‘You’re scaring him. Have you taken your tablets?’

‘I don’t know,’ said Sally. ‘I’m sorry. Sorry,’ she said again to Gil.

‘Come on,’ said Jude. He ushered Sally through the front door. Gil hung back in the gateway, wondering whether it was safe to follow.

‘Come on,’ said Jude again. ‘You’re not going to get eaten. Sally’s a vegetarian dog, you know,’ and he and Sally both laughed much more than Gil thought
there was any need for, but he followed them into the darkness of the house.

‘Just go in my room,’ said Jude, pushing open a door. ‘I’ll be back in a minute.’ He began to help Sally up the stairs.

It was dark in Jude’s room too, but there was a narrow slice of daylight falling through the back window. The room was shabby but extremely tidy. In a funny way Gil felt it looked like a
faded version of Dad’s study – the desk, the bookshelves, the filing cabinets, the single armchair – but it was a room that Jude obviously lived in, because there was also a bed
and a wardrobe.

Above the desk, in the same place that Dad had his fossil fish, there was a framed photo of someone holding a beagle puppy. Gil went closer to look at it. The dog was cute and cuddly, but the
photo wasn’t, because the person in the picture was wearing a black balaclava and Gil couldn’t see anything of their face except two shadows where the eyes must be, and a hole for the
mouth. He – or she – was dressed like a terrorist, but they were carrying a puppy instead of a gun. It looked completely wrong.

Several minutes went by, and Jude didn’t come back.

There was a smell of stale cigarette smoke and damp. Gil sat on the edge of Jude’s neat bed and began to wish he’d never come. If only he hadn’t been able to come up with a
plan. If only he were like Louis, too thick to have ideas of his own, the sort of person who always said,
Wow! I wish I’d thought of that!
He ought to run back to school while he had
the chance, Gil decided, standing up quickly. Louis would just be coming out of maths and making his way to the science block. Double science – it suddenly seemed the most wonderful thing in
the world, as appealing as a big roast dinner with all the trimmings.
Which I’m not going to eat any more,
Gil reminded himself.
You stupid, stupid, stupid . . .

But before he could escape Jude came through the door, carrying two more cans which he dumped on a table.

‘Poor old Sally,’ he said. ‘I’m sorry I took so long. She couldn’t find her tablets. I suppose I shouldn’t encourage her to take them, really, seeing as
they’ve all been tested on animals. She freaked you out, didn’t she?’