After saying goodbye to Dad and Angie, me and Sergei leave the flat together.
As soon as we get out on to the street, I stride off on my own and keep on walking at a good speed. As I turn off the estate to head up the hill, I take a sly look over my shoulder. Sergei is still behind me and looks as though he is purposely hanging back. He stops outside the community centre and studies something pinned to the fence. The next time I turn around I can’t see him at all.
I arrive at school a bit early, with walking so fast. I hang around the gates a while but the lads don’t appear in our usual meeting spot. I eventually find them in the inner courtyard.
Harry is saying something to the others but he stops talking when I get closer.
‘I wondered where you lot were.’ I sidle up to them.
Linford looks up at me and then looks back down at his phone.
‘How was football last night?’ I say after a bit.
At first I don’t think anyone is going to answer, then Jack speaks.
‘It was good.’
My skin is crawling, like there’s something nasty creeping up on me that I can’t see.
‘How was your evening?’ Linford says with a smirk. ‘Enjoy spending it with your visitors, did you?’
‘It was OK,’ I say, feeling sick when I think who it was.
‘Can you smell summat?’ Harry says, looking round. ‘There’s a rotten smell around here somewhere.’
Jack laughs and I think for a moment Harry means me, and then I look round and see Sergei walking across the courtyard. Despite me telling him to keep out of Linford’s way at school, here he is, asking for trouble again.
‘Yo, Immi,’ Linford calls. ‘When you pissing off back home, then?’
For a second I think Sergei is heading over to us. My heart hammers, making it difficult to calm my thoughts down and think.
What am I going to say if he tells Linford he’s staying at our flat? Is it best to deny it or admit it? There is no way Linford will believe I knew nothing about Sergei staying with us until last night.
But Sergei stays silent and walks straight by us. I close my eyes and say a silent thanks.
Linford spits his chewing gum out like a bullet and it hits Sergei on the arm. He carries on walking, eyes focused straight ahead.
‘What’s his problem?’ Linford looks at him and back at me. ‘He needs teaching a proper lesson in manners, right, Cal?’
Sergei glances over and locks eyes with me.
‘Just ignore him,’ I say, looking down at my feet. ‘He’s not worth the effort.’
When I look up again, Linford is staring at me through narrowed eyes.
After school I spot the lads walking away from the gates. I break into a jog and catch up with them.
‘What’s happening?’ I say.
‘We’re going to that new chippy that’s opened up on Mapperley Top,’ Harry replies.
‘I’ll come with you.’ I fall in line just in time to catch a look that passes between Linford and Jack. ‘That’s OK, isn’t it?’ I bite my inside cheek as I wait for Linford to answer.
He shrugs. ‘If you like.’
I don’t know why things feel so strained. I’m relieved when, after a few minutes, we’re chatting about the football results and how Man U are doing in the league. Everything seems to be back to normal and I begin to wonder if I’m imagining this new awkwardness that appears to sit between me and them.
At the chippy I pretend I’m not hungry. I haven’t got enough coins in my pocket to buy even a small bag of chips.
Linford and Jack both get trays stacked with meat pie, chips and gravy and sit on the low wall outside the shop. I wait inside with Harry and watch as the server ladles curry sauce over an enormous tray of chips. My mouth waters.
Harry grabs two plastic forks and hands me one.
‘You’ll have to help me out here, Cal; there’s loads more than I thought.’
Our eyes meet for just a second. I think he knows why I haven’t ordered anything.
‘Thanks, mate,’ I mutter.
We sit down on the wall and everybody is quiet for a few minutes, shovelling the delicious hot food in.
We hear the booming bass beat first and then watch as a silver Mercedes cruises slowly past, the tinted windows rolled down but not far enough to see who is inside.
The car stops in front of us and the front passenger-side window glides all the way down.
‘Enjoying your tea, ladies?’ a voice shouts above the beat.
I see a mouth with a gold tooth first, then a thin, spotty face appears.
Linford laughs, puts his tray down on the wall and walks over to the car. He touches fists with the passenger.
‘You boys are growing up fast.’ The man grins, turning to whoever is driving. ‘You come see us when you ready to rumble, yeah? We pay well if you want to do some stuff for us.’
I can guess the sort of stuff he means.
He looks at us all in turn.
‘Say what?’ He cups his hand to his ear.
‘Yeah,’ we all chant in unison.
I don’t know what they do for a living but I’ve got a pretty good idea. Rumour is, most of them have done time inside, and from what I can see, they drive around the estates all day long, meeting up with people and pocketing money after long handshakes.
‘Stay clear of that shower of no-hopers,’ Dad told me when I started at the Comp. ‘They’re bad news. All of them.’
I lean forward, trying to see who is driving the car, but the tinted window is moving up again and I’m not fast enough.
The car moves off and Linford puts his hand up, watching them go before sitting down with his food again. He lets out a sigh of what sounds like relief.
I watch him as he puts a couple of chips in his mouth and chews slowly, scanning the road ahead, as if he wants to make sure the car has definitely gone.
If I didn’t know him better, I’d say his bravado seems to have deserted him. He’s gone all pale and quiet.
We sit on the wall for ages after we’ve finished eating. I’m glad. Even though nobody is saying much, I don’t feel like going home yet.
I glance sideways at Linford. He’s staring at the floor, digging sharply at the pebbles and chips of asphalt with his shoe, as if they’re to blame for something.
We’ve known each other since primary school but I don’t know where all the laughter went between us. It’s like it just seeped away down into the gutter.
Harry and Jack live on the opposite side of the estate, so they set off walking home together.
‘Fancy walking back the long way?’ I say to Linford. If we walk around the edge of the estate, we pass both our streets.
‘Nah, I’ve got to call at the shop,’ he says, standing up. ‘See ya.’
I sit on the wall on my own for a bit. The new chippy gets busy with everybody calling in after work for their tea. Sharing Harry’s food has made me hungrier, if anything. I wonder if there is anything in to eat at home and then I think about Sergei and his mum being there and my appetite fades a bit.
I stand up and out of nowhere I get this idea that if I run, I might be able to catch Linford up before he gets home. I could talk to him without the others listening – maybe it’s a chance to set things straight between us again.
Something has changed in our friendship but I don’t know what. It feels like standing onstage and glancing behind you to find someone changed the set without saying anything and you don’t know the part you’re supposed to be playing any more.
If I can talk to Linford now, just the two of us, maybe we can clear the air.
But when I look in the direction he walked off, he’s nowhere to be seen. He must have rushed home. By the time I get to Linford’s street I’m puffing like an old man. I stop running and turn the corner and there he is, just about to walk in his front gate.
‘Linford!’
He turns round and when he sees it’s me, his face falls. He pushes at the gate. The bottom hinge is broken and it scrapes on the concrete path, making a sharp sound like a dry cough.
‘What’s up?’ he barks, taking a step away from the gate.
‘I just wanted to talk to you. I –’
Linford’s head whips round as his front door flies open.
A burly man with a firm round belly and ruddy cheeks fills the doorway.
‘What time d’ya call this? You were supposed to be back before six to look after your sister, you little runt.’ He steps out of the door and stomps towards the gate in socked feet, swigging from a can of lager. ‘Where the hell have you been?’
It’s ages since I’ve seen Linford’s stepdad and he looks almost unrecognizable. He’s put on loads of weight and his head looks over-inflated, like a red balloon stuck on his meaty shoulders.
‘S-sorry, Dad, I forgot,’ Linford stammers, his face draining of colour. ‘We went for some tea.’
Linford glances back at me and I give an eager nod to back him up. He twists and pulls at his fingers, as if he’s trying to remove a pair of invisible gloves.
‘If I get that frigging school on my back again you’re dead, d’ya hear me? Last time that Head Teacher of yours reckoned I could get fined and if I do, I’m going to—’
‘I’m not in any trouble, Dad.’ Linford shoots me a warning look.
I know he’s embarrassed and wants me to go, but I can’t move.
‘Who said you can speak, eh?’ His dad presses his florid face closer, just like I’ve seen Linford do with others at school.
Linford doesn’t cheek back, he doesn’t puff his chest out and pull himself up to his full height. Instead, he winces and half closes his eyes. His lips press into a thin, tight line like he is steeling himself for something.
My mouth hangs open. Linford’s swagger has melted into thin air.
‘I—’ Before he can finish his sentence, Linford’s stepdad grabs him by the scruff of his neck and stares down into his eyes.
I wait for Linford to push back and pull free. I wait for his fists to clench so tight his knuckles turn white like when he’s mad at school. But that doesn’t happen.
The Linford I know has disappeared and left a shrunken, pale boy in his place.
‘Get in the house,’ his stepdad growls. ‘Now.’
I want to say something to get Linford out of trouble. I want to run away, back to our flat. Even if Sergei and his mum are there, I don’t care. At least I feel safe at home.
Instead, I stand rooted to the spot, watching as Linford follows his stepdad meekly back indoors like a lost lamb.
He turns at the last moment and looks at me and I get a glimpse of the boy I’ve been friends with since primary school.
★
EXT. ST ANN’S PRIMARY SCHOOL PLAYGROUND – DAY
Two BOYS kicking a football to each other across the yard.
BOY ONE
I’m gonna play for Manchester United when I’m older.
BOY TWO
(runs after ball half-heartedly)
That’s just a stupid dream.
BOY ONE
You always used to say you were gonna play for them, too.
BOY TWO places foot on ball to stop it rolling. He leans back against brick wall and closes his eyes.
BOY ONE
What’s up, mate?
BOY TWO
Mum’s getting married to Martin. She told me last night.
BOY ONE
You like Martin, don’t you?
BOY TWO
(hesitantly)
Yeah, but Mum says I’ve got to call him ‘Dad’.
BOY ONE
But he’s not your dad.
BOY TWO
(sighs)
I know. But Mum says my real dad is as good as dead and that Martin is my new dad now.
He ignores the ball and leans back on the wall, looking downcast.
BOY ONE
Who is your real dad?
BOY TWO
(quietly, eyes glistening)
I don’t know. I never met him.
END SCENE.