‘Yeah, the market, where they don’t bump up the prices from one day to the next,’ said Chantelle. ‘Why aren’t you there, anyway?’ she added snipingly. ‘Don’t tell me you’ve been sacked already?’
‘Day off,’ Anton told her, frowning now. He was only trying to be friendly, and he seriously didn’t know what her problem was.
‘If you don’t mind, I need to talk to my brother,’ Chantelle said. ‘In
private
.’
‘Cool. No problem.’ Anton slowed down. ‘See you around sometime.’
‘See you,’ Leon said, glancing back at Anton wide-eyed. He was a legend among the lads on the estate, and Leon was chuffed that his sister was mates with him. Not that she was letting on, but Anton had told him they were so it had to be true.
‘Get moving,’ Chantelle snapped, pushing Leon roughly on ahead of her. ‘And what the hell do you think you were playing at, fighting at school?’
‘It weren’t
my
fault,’ Leon protested. ‘I was just waiting for you and they started on me. Anton stuck up for me,’ he added proudly. ‘And then he stopped with me till you got there in case they came back. He’s well cool.’
‘No, he’s not, he’s a thug,’ said Chantelle. ‘And I don’t want to catch you talking to him again.’
‘I like him,’ Leon grumbled. ‘Anyhow, why can’t
I
talk to him if you can?’
‘I don’t,’ Chantelle retorted sharply. ‘And I meant what I said, so stay away from him.’
‘Get lost!’ Leon turned on her angrily. ‘You can’t tell me who to talk to.’
‘Yes, I can,’ Chantelle hissed. ‘I’m doing my best here, but don’t you think I’ve got enough on my plate without having to chase around after you to keep you out of trouble?’
‘Who says I’m getting in trouble?’
‘You were fighting. What if one of your teachers had seen you?’
‘It weren’t my fault.’
‘Do you think your teachers would believe that?’
‘I don’t care what they think.’
‘Well,
I
do!’ Chantelle yelled, annoyed that he wasn’t taking this more seriously. ‘What do you think would have happened if they’d called the police? You’d get put back into care, that’s what! Or is that what you want?’
As she glared down into his eyes, Leon dropped his gaze and scuffed the toe of his trainer on the ground. There was no way he wanted to go back into care, but he wasn’t lying about the fight. He hadn’t started it, and he thought Anton was ace for stepping in.
‘You’ve got to stop this,’ Chantelle said now, an edge of desperation creeping into her voice as tears began to glisten in her eyes. ‘I’ve already made a mess of my exams ’cos I’m so stressed out.’
‘’S not my fault you’re thick,’ Leon grunted, offended that she was blaming him for that as well.
‘It’s your fault I couldn’t revise properly,’ she shot back.
‘No, it ain’t!’ Leon screamed up into her face. ‘It’s mum’s fault, so blame her. And stop having a go at me all the time, ’cos I’ve done nowt wrong. You’re a bitch, and I
hate
you!’
When he pushed past her and ran off down the road, Chantelle stayed where she was and blinked back the tears. He was right: none of this was his fault. But he definitely wasn’t helping the situation. The six weeks’ holiday was going to be a living nightmare if their mum didn’t come back, and she had no idea how she was going to cope. But, for Leon’s sake, she would have to try.
Leon was nowhere to be seen when Chantelle got home, but Tracey was standing on the step and Chantelle’s heart leapt at the sight of her.
‘Is she back?’ she gasped, pulling her key out of her pocket and rushing to open the door.
Unable to look her in the eye, Tracey shook her head. ‘No, but I have heard from her. Can I come in for a minute?’
‘Where is she?’ Chantelle stumbled into the hall. ‘When’s she coming home? What did she say?’
‘Look, don’t have a go at me,’ Tracey said, shuffling her feet when Chantelle switched on the light and gave her an expectant look. ‘But she’s not coming back. Not yet, anyhow,’ she added quickly when she saw the disappointment wash over the girl’s pretty face. ‘I’m sure she will – eventually; but she’s just not ready yet.’
‘What do you mean, she’s not ready? She’s been gone for ages. How much longer does she think she can stay away?’
‘If it’s any consolation, I told her she’s out of order. But you know what she’s like. You can’t tell her nothing.’
‘She can’t do this,’ Chantelle croaked. ‘She’s
got
to come back. I can’t deal with this on my own any more.’
Unable to look her in the eye, Tracey pulled a £20 note out of her pocket. ‘She asked me to drop this round for you. I know it’s not much, but it’s all I could manage. At least it’s something, eh?’
‘Not
much
?’ Chantelle squawked. ‘It won’t last two minutes. I’ve been using my savings, but what am I supposed to do when they’re gone? Look …’ She snatched a pile of envelopes off the hall table and flapped them in front of Tracey’s face. ‘Bills! Electric, water, phone … Who’s going to pay them?
I
can’t.’
When Tracey gave an awkward little shrug, Chantelle threw the bills back onto the table and buried her face in her hands. ‘She can’t do this to me. It’s not right.’
‘Aw, don’t cry.’ Tracey extended a hand but quickly withdrew it when the girl snapped her head up and glared at her.
‘Where is she?’ Chantelle demanded. ‘I need to talk to her.’
‘In Spain,’ Tracey told her. ‘She reckons she tried to call you, but you must have been at school, eh?’
Chantelle yanked her mobile phone out of her pocket and checked it for missed calls. ‘She’s a liar,’ she said accusingly when she saw there were none.
‘Hey, don’t blame me, babes.’ Tracey held up her hands in a gesture of innocence. ‘I’m just the messenger.’
Teeth gritted, Chantelle clenched her fists. ‘Well, you’ve done your bit, so you can go now.’
‘She, er, asked me to check if any letters have come for her,’ Tracey said quietly. ‘She reckons this week’s money hasn’t gone into her account, and she needs to know if they’ve found out she’s not here and cut her off. If they have, she wants me to …’ She trailed off and swallowed deeply before finishing, ‘Well, she wants me to make a new claim – in her name, like.’
Chantelle’s jaw dropped and she stared at Tracey in utter disbelief. This was a joke – it had to be. Her mum was living it up in Spain, leaving Chantelle to look after Leon, and yet she thought she was entitled to keep all of the benefit money for herself.
‘I think that might be it.’ Tracey pointed at a brown envelope that was sitting on top of the pile. She stepped forward to reach for it, but jumped back when Chantelle slammed a hand down on top of it.
‘Don’t you dare! If anyone’s going to claim that money, it’s
me
, not you.’
‘I won’t be getting any of it,’ Tracey assured her. ‘It’ll go straight into your mam’s account.’
‘Will it now? We’ll see about that.’ Chantelle shoved the envelope into her pocket and pulled out her phone again. ‘I’m going to ring her and find out what the hell she thinks she’s playing at. Her phone must be back on if she’s waiting for you to call.’
‘She’s changed her number,’ Tracey said, shrugging as she added, ‘Something to do with international signals, or summat. I don’t really understand all that stuff myself.’
‘Give me her new number, then,’ Chantelle demanded, phone poised.
Tracey sighed. ‘I can’t, babes. She told me not to.’
‘
What?
’
‘She knew you’d be fuming, and she can’t face it just now,’ Tracey explained. ‘Look, try to see it from her point of view, eh? She’s happy for the first time in years – surely you can’t begrudge her that? Not after all the shit she’s been through.’
‘I’m her
daughter
– what about the shit
I
’m going through?’ Chantelle cried incredulously. ‘And what about Leon? What kind of woman walks out on her ten-year-old son?’
‘You’re doing all right,’ Tracey argued, desperate to finish this and go home for a drink, because the girl was starting to wear her out. ‘Your mam knew you’d cope, or she’d never have left him with you.’
‘Are you
crazy
?’ Chantelle yelled at her. ‘What’s my mum even
doing
in Spain, anyway? And how did she get there without her passport?’
Cheeks reddening, Tracey took a step back in case Chantelle decided to smack her one. ‘She came round for it a few weeks back – when you and Leon were at school.’
‘Are you kidding me?’ Chantelle’s eyes widened. ‘I’ve been going out of my mind worrying about her. Why didn’t she wait till I got home so I’d know she was okay?’
‘’Cos she knew you’d try to stop her from going.’
Chantelle shook her head slowly from side to side as she tried to digest what she’d heard. But she just couldn’t accept that her mother could be so callous.
‘It’s a man, isn’t it?’ she gasped when a light suddenly went on in her mind. ‘She’s met a man, and she’d rather be with him than with us. Tell me I’m wrong.’
Tracey shrugged. Chantelle was spot on, but Tracey wasn’t about to let on that she’d known all along. She hadn’t even heard from Mary until she’d rung this afternoon, begging for help to sort out her benefits. Apparently, Manuel, or Miguel, or whatever the hell his name was, couldn’t afford to keep them both on his part-time-waiter wages, and Mary was terrified that he would dump her if she didn’t get her money reinstated. And what kind of a friend would Tracey be if she didn’t at least
try
to help her loved-up mate?
‘God, I’m right,’ Chantelle murmured sickly, guessing from the look on Tracey’s face that she had hit the nail on the head. ‘That’s low, even for her. And you’re just as bad – standing there making excuses for her.’
‘Look, I’ve told you what your mam said, and that’s all I know,’ Tracey said, fed up with taking stick for Mary’s actions. ‘Here …’ She slapped the £20 note down on the table. ‘She said if you want more you’ll have to get it off Leon’s dad, ’cos she’s done her bit and it’s time he started doing his.’
‘Are you serious?’ Chantelle screwed up her face in disbelief. ‘Glenroy hasn’t shown his face in years. How am I supposed to find him, never mind get money off him?’
‘I’m sure you’ll figure something out.’ Tracey shrugged and opened the door.
Shocked to the core, Chantelle stayed rooted to the spot for several long minutes after Tracey had gone. Still there when Leon knocked on the door, she snapped out of her daze and, swiping at the tears that she hadn’t even realised she was crying, let him in.
‘What’s for dinner?’ he asked, shouldering past her and dropping his blazer on the floor.
Relieved that he was home, because she had half expected him to go awol to punish her for shouting at him, Chantelle followed him into the kitchen. Now that she knew for sure that her mum was alive but had no intention of coming home any time soon, it was more important than ever to get things sorted between her and Leon. If they didn’t start pulling together, it wouldn’t be long before they were pulled apart – for ever.
‘I’m going to make spaghetti,’ she told him when she found him rooting through the fridge. ‘And then we need to talk.’
‘Whatever.’ Leon closed the fridge and looked in the cupboard. Disappointed to find nothing that he could eat which didn’t need cooking, he slammed the door shut. ‘How come you never buy biscuits? You never get nothing nice, you.’
‘We can’t afford it,’ Chantelle said guiltily. ‘Have you got any homework?’ she asked then. ‘Why don’t you make a start on it before you get too tired?’
‘I’m on holiday,’ Leon reminded her, shrugging her hand off his back when she ushered him towards the door. ‘I’m going to watch telly.’
‘Okay.’ Chantelle sighed. ‘But don’t have it on too loud. Oh, by the way …’ she added, keeping a casual edge to her voice. ‘Remember when you thought you saw your dad going into that house that time? Did you say it was opposite the precinct?’
Leon curled his lip. ‘Yeah, why?’
‘No reason.’ Chantelle smiled. ‘Just crossed my mind, that’s all. I’ll give you a shout when dinner’s ready.’
When she heard the TV come on in the front room, Chantelle took the mince out of the freezer and put it into the microwave to defrost. Then, chopping an onion, she mentally reran the conversation she’d just had with Tracey.
She was furious that her mum had rung Tracey and not her, and in hindsight she wished she’d taken Tracey’s phone off her and got the new number for herself. But she’d been too shocked to think about it at the time, and now she doubted she’d get the chance again because Tracey would no doubt go back to avoiding her. It was particularly upsetting to know that her mum was more concerned about keeping her hands on the benefit money than she was about her kids. But as for telling Chantelle to get money off Leon’s dad, that was a joke. Leon claimed not to care that his dad had abandoned him, but Chantelle remembered how heartbroken he’d been when, a couple of years ago, he’d come home in tears after spotting Glenroy going into a house in Stretford with a woman and a child.
‘
I leaned right out of the bus window and shouted at him
,’ he’d sobbed. ‘
And I know he heard me, ’cos he looked right at me. But he just blanked me and shut the door
.’
‘
Probably wasn’t him
,’ their mum had said. ‘
It’s been years since you saw him; you wouldn’t have a clue what he looked like
.’
But Leon had been adamant. ‘
It was him, I know it was. He just don’t want me no more. I hate him!
’
Now that she thought about it, Chantelle realised it had been around that time when Leon’s behaviour had started to deteriorate. Before then, he’d just been a bit cheeky; but afterwards, he’d become sullen and argumentative – and it had got far worse when he came home after being in care.
They had never spoken about his time with his foster parents because Leon flew off the handle whenever she tried to raise the subject. But Chantelle suspected that he’d been beaten, because he had been covered in bruises when he came home.
And that was why she couldn’t let him get taken away again.