CHAPTER SIX

September 29th

‘Mia?’

She stopped pretending to read and looked up.

‘Can I have a word?’

Mia scraped her chair back noisily and put the book face down on the table, squashing the spine the way she knew would most irritate her English teacher. She slouched up to the desk by the window.

Miss Blackman lowered her voice. ‘Mia, I feel we should have a little talk. After school, today, in the English office. OK?’

‘I’ll miss my bus,’ Mia mumbled through her hair. She wasn’t going to look at her, with her sickly smile and her hair just so and that silly jacket and short skirt. When she sat on the desk to read to the class the boys said you could see right up it. She’d tried telling Dad about it, ages ago, and he’d got that funny look and said he always found Miss Blackman extremely pleasant and she was a very good teacher and that was what mattered, not what clothes she wore. But then he would, wouldn’t he?

‘Well, how about lunchtime then? Twelve thirty? It won’t take long.’

Miss Blackman smoothed her hair behind one ear. New earrings, Mia noticed. Little gold stars with silver centres. On anyone else they’d look nice.

‘OK. Can I sit down now?’

‘Yes, Mia. But try and actually do some work. You’re in a complete dream. And take that sulky look off your face please.’

Mia shrugged her shoulders. She’d like to hit her, her smug made-up face, and mess up her perfect hair, and shake her till the real person came out.

‘What was that about?’ Becky whispered.

‘Stupid woman. I’ve got to see her at lunchtime.’

‘What about?’

‘Dunno. My attitude I expect.’

‘I’ll come with you.’

‘Enough chat, Becky.’ Miss Blackman was settling herself on the table ready to take them through the next chapter. She had her legs crossed. One pointed shoe dangled. The boys behind Mia were starting to fidget. Someone muttered an obscenity under his breath, but Mia heard. They shouldn’t say stuff like that about women. She couldn’t stand Miss Blackman, but even so!

At lunchtime, Becky and Mia waited at the doorway to the English office.

Miss Blackman hurried along the corridor, waving a pile of paper. ‘Sorry, Mia. I can’t see you now. It’ll have to be after school instead. Three thirty.’

‘She’ll miss the bus!’ Becky spoke up defiantly.

‘It doesn’t matter,’ Mia said. ‘I don’t mind. I’ll come then.’

Miss Blackman looked surprised. ‘Thanks, Mia. Sorry. I’ve got a problem with some Year Sevens to sort out. Speak to you later.’

Becky and Mia wandered back up the corridor and through the swing doors. Their gang were lying out on the grass. They went to join them.

‘What did she want then? A date with your dad?’ Liam laughed.

Mia flushed angrily. ‘Shut up. Mind your own business. Just ’cause you fancy her.’

‘What, an old slag like that?’

‘You’re disgusting. I’ve had enough of you lot.’ Mia stood up abruptly and stalked off towards the girls’ toilets. She heard Will’s voice, ‘What’s up with Mia?’ and Becky’s reply, ‘I don’t know. Ask her yourself. You’re the one supposed to be going out with her.’

Becky came and joined her.

After French, last lesson of the afternoon, Mia and Becky walked slowly along the corridor to the English office. They waited outside the door for Miss Blackman to turn up.

‘I’ll meet you about four thirty then? Outside the chemist’s?’ Becky rested her hand on Mia’s arm for a moment.

Mia nodded. ‘Thanks, Beck. And don’t say anything to anyone.’

‘OK. Will was asking if you’re all right. Don’t you think you should say something to him?’

‘No.’

‘It’s not fair, you having to worry on your own. It’s his problem too.’

‘Shut up. Not here.’

‘OK. See you later.’

Miss Blackman’s shoes clipped along the corridor. You could hear her a mile off. And smell the wafts of perfume. She smiled at Mia.

‘Come in here, it’s a bit more private. The cleaners will be starting on the classrooms any minute.’ She unlocked the department office and turned a chair round for Mia to sit in. She stood, her back to the window.

‘No need to look so anxious! But I am worried about you, Mia. We’re Year Eleven now and this is a very important year for you. Last year you were hardly pulling out the stops, but this term so far you’ve done almost nothing. You’re missing lessons. You have failed to complete any homework. You are already well behind with your coursework. It’s all got to be done by Christmas, Mia. It’s a substantial part of your final mark for English. I know you’ve heard this all before. But I want to get to the bottom of this. It’s not as if you’re stupid. You’re just as bright as your sisters and they both got an A in English GCSE, didn’t they? But they worked for it. It won’t happen just by magic, you know.’

Mia watched Miss Blackman’s perfect lip-sticked mouth. She stopped hearing the words. After a while they stopped echoing round the room. The room itself seemed to be going round so she had to clutch on to the sides of the plastic chair. She shut her eyes.

‘Waste of my time… no point trying… help… think…’

Miss Blackman seemed to be getting more and more het up. Mia felt as if it was all happening far off, to someone else. Then she opened her eyes.

‘Go on then, get your bus. I don’t believe you’ve heard a word of what I’ve been saying. I’ll have to call your father, I’m afraid, and tell him how you’ve behaved here today. He’ll be very disappointed in you, Mia.’

At last she felt something. Rage burned up through her guts. ‘You keep your hands off my dad!’ She hissed the words, and then she ran, out of the poky office and down the corridor and through the doors on to the driveway.

She was still furious when she got off the bus at the stop near the precinct. She slouched down the steps to the path that went along the river, kicking a bottle that someone had dropped on the path and smiling when it smashed against the stone wall. Fragments of green glass glinted among the nettles. She sat down on a bench near the river to wait until it was time to meet Becky.

A woman with a small child strapped in a buggy threw bread for the ducks. The child strained against the straps, squirming to be free, but the woman slapped his hand and he started to grizzle. The woman looked old and tired out. She shoved the bread bag away and got a packet of cigarettes out. Mia felt her anger flare up again. All that kid wanted was to run along the path and throw the bread himself.

She started thinking about Miss Blackman. Perhaps right now she was phoning Dad and he’d be going all gooey and smarmy and arranging to meet her so they could discuss Mia face to face. And then, in a minute, she and Becky would be buying one of those kits and soon she’d know for sure… only she knew already, didn’t she? She didn’t need some stupid kit to tell her. Waste of money. And then what?

The abbey clock chimed the half hour. She’d better run. She had to wait at the bottom of the steps for a crowd of men in suits. A youngish man in naff pinstripes winked at her. ‘Cheer up, love. It might never happen.’ Stupid prat. It made her want to throw up.

A thin ray of sunshine came through the clouds, and for a moment she forgot to be angry, and noticed the river instead, how it looked almost beautiful. There was the usual muck floating about still, but a swan bobbed just under the bridge, its wing feathers fluffed up in an arc above its body. And something else caught her eye. There was something on the parapet of the bridge. Mia’s heart thudded under her ribs. It was someone – a child, she could see now – balanced on the edge, just above the river. Mia looked around. No one else seemed to have noticed. The crowd of suits had passed on down the path, their backs to the bridge now; the woman with the buggy had gone too. The small figure crouched there, as if it would jump at any moment. Should she yell out? She might startle the child and it would lose its balance…

Mia ran up the steps, two at a time, and then round on to the road that went over the bridge. For a minute, the bridge itself was out of sight. As she came on to it she saw immediately that the child was no longer there. Heart still thudding, she peered over the edge. The river flowed smoothly round the stone bridge supports. The swan bobbed, preening its wing feathers. An old tree branch swung round in the eddies of water near the bank. No sign of a child. And there had been no splash. She would have heard that, surely? Even when she was running up the steps. The child must have climbed back down, and run along the road in the other direction, back towards the shops. But so fast? It seemed unlikely.

She was out of breath by the time she got to Becky.

‘Sorry! This weird thing just happened.’

Becky listened to Mia telling her about the child.

‘Perhaps you just imagined it. Or it was the light or something. How would a little kid get up on the edge of the bridge anyway? A teenager, maybe. People sometimes jump off the parapet into the river in the summer, when it’s hot. But it’s really dangerous. You can hit your head on the stone bits. And if you get swept into the weir you’ve had it. There’s nothing you can do, anyway. Forget it. Let’s go and get your kit.’

‘Not yet. We could have a drink in the market first? And have a look round the shops. Please, Becks?’

Mia dragged her feet. She wished she hadn’t arranged this with Becky. It didn’t seem like a good idea any more. Suppose someone saw her? And once she’d done the test…

It was busy in the chemist’s. They stopped at the make-up section and sprayed on the expensive perfume testers until the assistant asked them what they wanted to buy. Then they moved through toothpastes and shampoos, past eye-care and feminine hygiene to the pregnancy tests.

Mia wanted to walk straight past and out of the far exit, but Becky dragged her back.

‘Look, you’ve got to do it. Come on. No one’s watching.’

Mia looked round anxiously. It was true – no one was paying them any attention. The nearest woman was filling her basket up with boxes of tampons. Mia shifted nearer to first aid and alternative medicines.

‘Blimey! Loads to choose from!’ Becky was enjoying herself.

Just looking at the pink and blue packets made Mia feel sick. In the end they chose the cheapest one, which could be done any time of the day.

‘Perhaps we shouldn’t bother. It’s a waste of money.’

‘You can’t not do it now, Mia. Unless you want to do a free one. At the doctors. I got you a leaflet.’ Becky unfolded the coloured leaflet from her pocket.

‘Where did you get that?’

‘School medical room. You know, where the school nurse goes. They’ve got loads, about smoking and drugs and Aids and stuff.’

‘Suppose someone saw?’

Becky giggled. ‘They’ll think I’m pregnant then, won’t they? But no one did. It was after school. Here, you have it.’

‘I don’t want it.’

‘Don’t be daft. Shove it inside your bag. In your planner or something. No one’s going to go through your bag, are they? Not even your dad’s that nosy.’

‘He might.’

‘Well, you’ll need to tell him sooner or later, won’t you?’

‘Not necessarily.’

‘Come on. Let’s buy this one and go and do it.’

‘Where?’

‘Your house?’

‘OK.’

They chose the check-out with the doziest-looking cashier. Mia gave Becky the ten pounds she’d taken from Dad’s stash behind the clock that morning before school. It had been easy to take it; she wondered why she’d never done it before. All those times they’d argued about money – she could have just helped herself. He was so busy with work he’d probably never notice. Tonight he had to do an Open Evening for new pupils at his school; he wouldn’t be back till after nine. She walked out of the shop and waited for Becky outside. They stuffed the plastic carrier into Mia’s school bag and went to get the bus back to Whitecross.

Becky phoned her mum on her mobile.

‘I’m at Mia’s, Mum, to keep her company. Her dad’s got a meeting. I’ll be home about nine thirty. Yeah. We’ll do homework together, here. Yeah. Pasta or something. It’s fine.’

Mia listened. Lucky Becky. It really wasn’t fair.

‘We’ll cook first. Then we’ll do it, yes?’

‘I’m not hungry.’

‘You have to eat, Mia. Don’t be so daft. I’m starving, anyway.’

They cleared the pile of letters from the kitchen table. Dad hadn’t got round to opening them.

Mia knew instantly the handwriting on one. She hid it behind the clock to look at later.

Becky filled a pan with water for pasta.

‘Right. The ceremonial opening.’

They spread the instructions out on the bathroom chair. Mia’s hands shook.

‘You have to wee in this one and then we add this little tube of stuff and wait. Just three minutes.’ Becky took off her watch and placed it on the chair. ‘It’s like Miss Matthews’ science demo.’

‘Go out then. I’m not doing it with you here.’

‘Call me when you’ve finished.’

Together they watched the seconds tick round.

‘No peeping till the three minutes, OK?’

But Mia already knew.

‘Maybe it’s wrong? A false positive?’

Mia shook her head. ‘Good try, Beck. But it’s true. I’m pregnant. Official.’

‘What are we going to do?’

‘I don’t know.’

‘But you can’t have a baby, Mia. You’re fifteen.’

‘We’d better get rid of all this before Dad gets home. Help me tidy up.’

‘We can’t put it in the bin. What if your dad sees?’

‘Wrap it in something. Put it in the dustbin outside. He’s not going to go through that, is he?’

‘You’re so… cool about it, Mia. Are you all right?’

‘Course I’m not. I’m pregnant, aren’t I? There’s a baby growing inside me.’

‘It’s not a baby yet. You mustn’t think like that, Mia.’

‘Why not? It’s true, isn’t it?’

‘It’s just a bunch of cells or a blob of jelly or something.’

‘I don’t want to talk about it any more, OK. Not tonight. I’m really tired, I need to go to bed.’

‘What are you going to do though, Mia? We’ve got to talk about it.’

‘Not now. I just want to be by myself. Just go, Becky. Please.’

‘Oh, but I don’t think –’

‘Please. I’ll be OK. Don’t worry. I need to sleep.’

‘Can’t I just stay till your dad’s back?’

‘No. Just go. I’m sorry, you’ve been really nice, Becks. I’ll see you tomorrow.’

‘Are you sure you’re OK?’

‘Yes.’

‘I’ll be off then.’

‘Thanks.’

‘Bye, Mia.’

*

Mia went into the bedroom. She lay on the bed in the dark room. She was cold. It felt like a stone was inside her belly – hard and cold and ready to drag her down under the water. She thought briefly of the child on the bridge, the sun on her hair, the swan floating on the water below. She thought about Will – how distant he seemed now they were back in school. She never saw him alone. He was always with Liam or Matt. Or Ali was hanging around. He hadn’t phoned her, but then she hadn’t phoned him either. She supposed she’d been waiting for him to make the next move. And he hadn’t. What did that mean? Were they still going out?

She switched on the bedside lamp, went over to her bag and found the leaflet from Becky. The words made her eyes water; she couldn’t take them in. She’d read it tomorrow maybe. She was too tired now. And tomorrow she’d phone Will. And she’d work out what she was going to do. She curled up on the bed, knees hunched up, spine curved round.