‘Whoooooooo! Whooooooo!’
Laura punches the boy in the ribs. ‘Shut up, Mark. You’re not funny. It’s the middle of the day. I’m hardly going to be scared by some stupid ghost noises!’
Mark’s face falls. ‘Aww, come on. I thought you were up for this. Look, if you’ve changed your mind, you can tell me. It doesn’t matter. I just thought . . .’
‘Don’t be daft.’ Laura grabs his arm and pulls him closer. She snakes an arm round his neck, and eventually he stops pouting and turns round. Their mouths are almost touching. Laura feels her cheeks grow hot, and she pulls back, almost stumbling on a small pile of rubble that’s been stacked up under the window. ‘Sorry, I—’
Mark smirks. Laura wants a giant sinkhole to open up in the car park of the old children’s home and suck her right into it. She read something recently about a man in America who’d gone to bed and the whole bedroom had disappeared into a giant pit underground. They never found him. She coughs. ‘Right, can you go in first? I know you said it was easy, but I’d rather stay on lookout first, then follow you inside.’
Thankfully, Mark says nothing. He knows that she fancies him. It’s not like she’s hiding it well. But making the first move? That’s a whole other story. Totally no way. She likes to think she can handle herself. She’s got a black belt in karate, for God’s sake. Apart from that stupid attack a few weeks ago, she knows that she’s completely able to deal with her own life without a man. Or even a stupid boy, like Mark. He’s only a year older than her, and she’s not even sure that seventeen officially makes him a man yet. Does it? Saying that though, he does look pretty manly . . . His little bit of stubble and his gruff voice make her feel all fluttery inside. When he asked her if she wanted to sneak into Marchmont Lodge with him, she was hardly going to say no.
Everyone is talking about Marchmont Lodge. It’s almost the end of the summer holidays, and there’s been no end of stories about who’s been in there and the things they’ve done. Laura is surprised that the place hasn’t been sealed off properly. It’s been closed down for years, but it’s only recently that kids she knows have been going in there. Apparently it’s a junkies’ hangout – and most kids she knows would run a mile from a junkie. Everyone knows that lot are unstable. They’ll do anything for their next fix. But something has happened recently, and she doesn’t know what. The junkies have moved on, and the lodge has been taken over by the rampant teens of Banktoun.
It’s a small town. It doesn’t take much to get people worked up. And since all that business with the bloke up at the Track, the kids who used to hang about up there have started to drift away. They’ve found themselves a new place to drink beer and smoke and shag. Not that she does any of those things . . . well, not yet. Apart from anything else, her grandmother would kill her if she thought she’d been up to no good. Bridie Goldstone is the local gossip, and she’s far scarier than Laura’s mum and dad combined.
She planned to ask Davie about the lodge, but karate was off for six weeks during the summer and she hasn’t seen him about. She still can’t believe that the local police station might be closing down. Something went on with Davie’s boss, but, as yet, Laura has no idea what. She misses Davie. Likes being around him. He’s a good listener. A good friend. Plus, he’s someone else who gives her that little flutter inside. Even if he is old enough to be her dad.
‘Oi, you coming in here or what?’
Mark is inside the building. His face peers out at her through the broken window. He outstretches a hand. ‘Stand on the tyre, then get one foot on the ledge, and I’ll pull you in.’ An old lorry tyre leans on its side to the right of the window. The idea is to put a foot on the rim, step up onto the top, then stretch across to the window ledge. There’s probably an easier way, but this is all part of the procedure. This is the way to get in.
Folk like rules and stories and bits to embellish. Once, apparently, someone slipped when they hadn’t put their foot properly on the window ledge. They fell forward and knocked three teeth out. Laura knows the story is bullshit, because the person it was meant to have happened to was in France all summer on an exchange trip with the music department. Laura knows that because her gran knows everything there is to know. In fact, what Bridie doesn’t know isn’t worth knowing. She wonders if her gran already knows about Mark.
‘Sorry. Coming. I was miles away.’ Laura flips herself in through the window in two easy moves. Mark grabs her around the waist as she lands on the floor inside.
‘Impressive,’ he says. ‘You seem very . . . flexible.’ He winks at her, and Laura feels herself blush again. This time though, he doesn’t smirk. His eyes have gone dark and glassy and huge, and Laura can only stare into them as he pulls her close and brushes his lips over hers.
Her heart starts to thud. Goosebumps run down her neck. Oh my God, she thinks. Oh. My. God. Mark closes his eyes. She mirrors him.
His lips press harder against hers, and her mouth opens naturally, just a tiny bit . . . then a little more. And then they’re kissing. Properly kissing. He tastes of spearmint. His tongue darts into her mouth, making her lips tingle. A tingle that runs all the way from her lips and down . . . across her chest, to her stomach and further until it reaches . . .
THUD.
Mark pulls away. They both open their eyes. Laura’s stomach lurches. A beautiful, painful ache. They look up. The floor above them vibrates, slightly. Shuddering with the weight of whatever has fallen on top of it.
‘I . . . I think we should get out of here,’ Laura manages, trying to catch her breath. Deal with what just happened. That kiss . . . ‘I think someone’s upstairs,’ she says.
Mark seems to have regained his composure, although his cheeks are flushed and his eyes shine bright like wet stones. Laura hopes his reaction is because of her, and not the noise from the room above.
THUD.
Mark spins her around and practically launches her out of the window. ‘You go first,’ he says, under his breath. Trying to keep the panic from his voice.
Laura scrambles outside. She doesn’t need to be told twice.