Now and again I thought about calling him. Thought about taking the three buses to Denz’s house to surprise him even. But every time I came close to doing it, I would remember the way Donna had smiled at him from across the road. Imagine him there, at her house. After midnight.
He’d only been gone two or three weeks when I started going downstairs, sitting in the back bar with Chrissy and her hollow-faced mates, sipping on pop, watching them gurn and talk too fast. Every so often I’d sneak off to the toilets, top up my glass with whatever I’d nicked from the cellar. On my way back I’d pass the entrance to the sports lounge where Barry would be hiding away, serving all the old boys their half pints of bitter, watery eyes glued to the horses on the telly.
I’d only leave for the park when I was drunk enough not to mind the mithering from the other kids. I knew they’d all be asking if I’d heard from Danny, where he’d gone, when he’d be back. On the night of Greeny’s birthday I got so carried away that I threw up before I even left the pub, wiping my mouth on the back of my hand, stopping at the garage for a packet of chewy.
It was teatime when I arrived. The rest of them were already there, draped across climbing frames and fences and benches, intimidating mums with their toddlers, dads trying to push their littlies on the roundabouts. I didn’t bother trying to make conversation with anyone, just sat on the swing swigging vodka straight from the bottle, washing it down with mouthfuls of flat lemonade.
Ste was watching me, I knew that. He’d been different around me since Danny had gone. Bolder, more brazen, acting, sometimes, as though I were his. I could handle him mostly, but I wasn’t in the mood that night, kept looking the other way whenever he tried to talk to me, pretended more than once that I hadn’t heard him speak.
You’re a right moody cow tonight, you, he sniped at me in the end. I didn’t say anything back. He gave a snort, kicked the seat of the swing so that I jolted backward. How come yer mum’s so fit and you’re such a little scarecrow?
I kicked him back, my heel landing on his shin, and he stumbled, taken by surprise, then laughed, pulling the swing’s chains toward him, scissoring my legs inside his. I’m only messin, giz a cuddle. Don’t worry, Danny won’t see.
I tried to wriggle free of his grip, but Ste held fast on either side of me, close enough that I could smell him. Lynx and sweat and boy. Anyways, he said with a smirk, I’ve heard Danny’s got plenty of other girls he’s keepin himself busy with, over in Leeds.
Aye, he’s got a new bird, Greeny piped up from where he perched on the lower rungs of the climbing frame, Chelsea balancing on his knee. Int that right, Chels?
Yeah. Chelsea nodded, sounding bored. I ain’t seen Donna for time.
I clenched my jaw, tried to ignore the blood pulsing behind my eyes. Well, he can do what he likes, I said, forcing myself free finally with a yank. Me and Danny are just mates.
Ste laughed. Yeah. But you wish you weren’t.
By the time it was dark I’d run out of booze, but I wasn’t ready to stop. More kids had arrived, kids from the next town across, plenty of others that no one seemed to know. I was scavenging for another drink when I spotted a couple of lads leaning against the fence, a crate at their feet.
All right, Neef? one of them said to me as I stumbled over, a sly smile playing on his lips.
All right. I smiled back, doing my best impression of Chrissy. I recognized him vaguely, but I didn’t know his mates. It made it easier to flirt with them, somehow. Turned out I was good at it, all that hair-flicking and laughing too loud. One of the lads gave me a can, and after that another one gave me something else. Before I knew it, we were sharing bottles of syrupy wine and cheap cider until there were outstretched hands and piggybacks and arms around waists and pulling onto laps. I could tell they’d already decided it was a competition and I was the prize. But they had me all wrong. I was a dick-tease, after all.
I don’t remember the point at which we split off from the rest of the group. One of them had a car, I think, because I remember being in the backseat. Kissing and hands. Cold fingers on bare skin. I remember being sick and the lad who was driving swearing at me. And I remember running off, stumbling and laughter, but I don’t know if it was mine or theirs, and a feeling like I was being chased.
We ended up at Devil’s Claw and that’s why I always thought it was my fault, that I instigated it. No one else knew about that place. I remember the scraping of branches and brambles and weeds on my skin, soil underneath my fingernails. And I remember me on my back, staring at the sky, the weight of body after body pinning mine.
When I woke up it was still dark but I was alone, my clothes damp, bruises on my thighs, a churning sickness in the pit of my stomach. I pulled myself up onto my knees, an ache throbbing through every inch of me, thumping behind my eyes. The pain seared between my legs as I stumbled back through the woods toward the pub. I couldn’t bring myself to go inside and so I leaned against Danny’s spot on the wall, staring out into the blackness of the river, the way it swelled and roiled.
I don’t know how long I’d been standing there when I heard footsteps, looked up to see Chrissy walking toward me from the direction of the road.
Where did you come from? I said, my voice coming out harsher than I had meant it to. The sound of a familiar car engine rumbled from somewhere close by as Chrissy pulled a rutted packet of cigs from her pocket, her hand trembling as she fumbled with the lighter, illuminating the yellow stains on the tips of her fingers.
What? she snapped, seeing me looking at her. She was still dressed in her clothes from the day before, her hair drawn back from her face in a way that made the bones of her skull jut out in the half light.
Where you been?
She ignored my question, leaning with her elbows on the wall, tapping ash onto the ground.
It’s quiet out here, innit? she said. Peaceful.
I watched her pull another cigarette from the packet, light it with the end of her first, her right leg jittering up and down.
Mam, I said quietly, and she looked at me as though she was seeing me there for the first time. I could see the clench of her jaw, the wildness in her eyes like she wasn’t really there. But when she looked at me—when she really looked at me—it was like she knew.
Oh, Neef, she said. Neef.