‘NICU!’
I shout,
much louder than I did when Liam turned his back on me.
‘NICU!’
I bang the window,
kick the door,
so mad and so loud everyone in the carriage is staring,
not knowing
why I’m freaking out.
But it doesn’t matter what I do,
I can’t open the door –
the button won’t work,
even though I punch it and punch it and punch it.
And
the train is moving slowly,
leaving,
chugging up to Cambridge
without Nicu.
And he isn’t doing anything to stop it.
He’s just
watching me,
waving,
almost smiling
and crying too,
like a bloody big baby,
watching and waving,
sobbing,
and I know,
then,
seeing the look he’s giving me
that
there’s no point
in texting him and
telling him to meet me in Cambridge
in a couple of hours
because he did this on purpose.
He let me leave.
‘You dickhead!’ I shout.
Doesn’t he know how much worse everything is now?
He thinks I’m going to Cambridge, but I’m not,
I’m going nowhere
and when I arrive he’ll be
somewhere else –
on his way to prison probably.
‘Why?’ I ask,
but he doesn’t hear me,
and I know the answer anyway.
I look for him but
the train is out of the station.
I am gone and
there’s nothing else to do except
say his name
over and over in my head like a spell.
Nicu, Nicu, Nicu, Nicu, Nicu.
I sit,
stare down at his bag by my feet.
His cape is rolled up at the top.
I take it out
to cover myself in him –
his smell,
his stupidity.
‘Nicu,’ I hear myself saying
and look into the bag again,
where I see
the cash –
wads and wads of his dad’s cash.
‘You dickhead,’ I say again,
and I can’t help it:
I smile.