CHAPTER SEVEN

She must have gone to sleep because next thing she knew Dad had come back from his meeting and was standing in her bedroom doorway.

‘Well?’

‘Dad? What time is it?’

‘Are you going to tell me yourself?’

The cat had sneaked into the bedroom and now jumped on to her bed, purring loudly. He paddled his paws on her stomach, claws out. Dad waited, fingers drumming on the doorpost. His face was very red. This is it, Mia thought. He knows.

‘What are you talking about? What time is it? I didn’t hear you come home.’

‘It’s nine thirty-five p.m. I’ve just got back after an exhausting evening to find a message on the answerphone from your English teacher telling me you’re skipping lessons and failing coursework and extremely ill-mannered when she tries to talk to you about any problems. Well, madam? What have you to say? As if I haven’t got enough on my plate. I get in from work at this time of night and find this – this –’

‘This mess? Me? Is that what you mean?’ Mia sat up, shoving the cat on to the floor.

‘Just tell me what’s going on, Mia.’ For an awful moment she thought he was going to cry.

But he switched on the light and that started him off again. ‘What are you doing? Sleeping fully clothed, still in school uniform. You’ve left the kitchen filthy, nothing washed up. I found the doors all unlocked. I suppose you had that boy round here again?’

The anger began to burn in her guts again. How dare he!

‘What’s the point? You never listen. I don’t have to talk to you.’ Mia pushed past him out of the room. He tried to grab her arm, but she shoved him hard, knocking him back against the door. He swore under his breath, shocked at the sudden pain in his shoulder. Mia was running now, down the stairs, across the hall and, without thinking, she was opening the front door, slamming it behind her, running across the grass, through the gate and into the lane. She heard him calling out behind her, calling her name, but it was too late now. She ran on into the darkness, down the hill, not knowing where she was going except away, away from him and the house and school and everything. She sobbed as she ran, so it hurt her chest and she had to slow down. But she kept on going, as if by instinct, towards the sea, and the footpath, and her field. Will’s and hers.

It was cold without a coat. And so dark. No moon or stars tonight. It began to drizzle. A wind blew in from the sea. She turned off the lane just in time: car headlights, the sound of tyres on damp tarmac. Dad, coming after her? She skirted the mud and felt her way down the familiar track to the gap in the hedge. Something rustled in the hedgerow and then the dark shape of a large bird flapped slowly from the big trees away over the field. Her heart thudded.

Now she was safe in the field. He’d never find her here. If only she’d brought a coat or a rug or something. The drizzle had turned to a steady, penetrating rain. She crouched in the shelter of the gorse bushes, where patches of bare earth felt almost dry, until her heart had stopped its wild beating.

In the distance she heard a car grinding up the hill. Dad going back? He’d be going upstairs, into her room, expecting to find her safely returned. Mia groaned out loud. Becky’s leaflet, half stuffed under her pillow! He was probably looking at it right this minute.

She couldn’t go back, not now. But she couldn’t stay here. She couldn’t bear to turn up at Becky’s house and have to tell her mother everything. It would be the first place Dad went to look for her. She wasn’t going to make it easy for him. Will’s? His parents wouldn’t mind. She might be able to avoid them altogether. What would Will think, her turning up now? Where else could she go though? She’d have to risk it.

There were lights on in every window. No curtains drawn. Will’s older brother was silhouetted in one of the upstairs rooms and two people moved about in the kitchen, crossing back and forth in front of the window. She waited in the darkness, shivering with cold, then crept round to the side of the house and threw a handful of gravel against Will’s bedroom window. After the second shower of gravel, his face peered out, puzzled. He opened the window a little and saw her standing in the shadows.

‘Mia? Wait there. I’ll come down.’

She watched the front door open, a strip of light spread out on to the gravel path, the dark shape slip through the gap.

‘Mia? What are you doing here this time of night?’

She started to shake.

‘You’d better come in. You’re soaked!’

‘What about your parents?’

‘They won’t mind. They’re in the kitchen anyway. They don’t have to know. I’ll smuggle you upstairs if you like.’

Will shut the bedroom door quietly and they sat down on the bed. He looked at her critically.

‘You look terrible. Your hair’s all wet. And you’re all muddy. What’ve you been doing?’

‘I ran away.’

‘You’re joking! Aren’t you?’

‘I dunno. I mean, I ran out of the house and I’m not going back. I’ve had enough.’

‘What about your dad? He’ll be really worried.’

‘I don’t care. I hate him.’

‘What’s he done now?’

She bit her lip so she wouldn’t cry. It had been a mistake to come here. How could she possibly tell Will? He looked so – so young and innocent sitting on his bed, him all clean and golden-looking next to her with her dark ragged hair and thin white face and muddy clothes. It had been a shock to see his room. His history essay was spread out on the wooden table under the window; he must have been working on it. His saxophone case lay open on the floor.

‘He doesn’t hit you or anything, does he?’

Mia shook her head. ‘It’s not that. He’s not violent or anything.’

‘What then?’

Mia shook her head. She was close to tears. She longed to tell him and have him put his arms round her and say it would be all right and he’d help her. But she knew it was hopeless. She couldn’t even begin to say.

‘I can’t explain. He just came home late and started up again, going on and on at me. All that stuff about school –’

– and, oh, Will – I’m pregnant and it’s the end of everything – I don’t know what to do – But the words stuck in her throat.

He looked at her, uncomprehending. She knew it was impossible for him to understand. There he’d been, playing music in his room after a cosy family supper, calmly working on his essay, his parents laughing downstairs, and then she arrived, like a stray dog or something, out of the blue – cold, wet, in tears – impossible.

‘Do you want to stay here tonight?’

‘I dunno. Can I?’

‘Well, I guess so, but what about your dad? He’ll be going mad. He might phone the police or something. You have to tell him you’re OK.’

Mia felt suddenly furious at the unfairness of it all. She turned on Will. ‘You phone him then if you’re so concerned about him. On your mobile.’

‘No way, Mia! Have you gone crazy or what?’

‘I don’t want to speak to him, Will. Can’t you get that?’

‘You have to, if you don’t want him sniffing around after you, with police and social workers and the lot. He’ll look for you at Becky’s, and then here, won’t he? So just tell him you’re safe.’

‘All right. Stop going on. You’re starting to sound like him. Give it here.’

She dialled the number, held her breath, let out a sigh as the answerphone cut in.

‘Dad, I’m staying at a friend’s for the night, so don’t worry about me and don’t come looking for me either. I’ll see you tomorrow after school, OK?’ She quickly cut the line dead before he could pick up the phone.

It was a relief to have done it. Now she felt hysterical giggles rising. Will looked so – so serious, and scared. She felt a hundred, million years older than him. Braver, harder.

‘What’s so funny?’

‘You. Like a little boy. Like you’re going to be in trouble!’

‘Well, I’ve not had as much practice as you!’ He gave her a shove and they fell together on to the bed, stifling laughter.

‘Sshh. Someone will hear! Look, I’ll go down and tell them I’m going to have an early night. Then Mum won’t come in.’

‘Can’t you lock the door?’

‘If I can find the key.’

Mia listened to the noises in the house while Will was downstairs. His brother was playing music in his room; she could feel the thump thump of the beat. Someone crossed over the landing and went to run a bath. Will’s footsteps came back up the stairs, two at a time. She looked into the mirror on his wall and tried to smooth her wild hair with his comb. He came back in, flourishing a key.

‘I nicked it from Ben’s room. Same lock as this door.’

They lay back on the single bed together. Mia’s shoes left muddy stains on the cream cover.

‘We’ll have to turn the light off so it looks like I’m asleep,’ he whispered. ‘We should have done this before. Smuggled you in. It’s easy, isn’t it? And much warmer than our field.’

‘I like our field.’

‘Yeah, well, I did too, but that was summer.’

Any minute now. In the darkness. She was going to tell him. She rehearsed the words in her head. Will, I’m pregnant, neutral tone. Oh God, Will, something awful’s happened, tragic tone. Will, guess what, sort of bright, I-can-cope tone. None of them sounded right.

‘Shall we get under the covers? Get undressed.’ Will’s whisper sounded loud in the darkness.

‘Yes.’

Mia sat on the edge of the bed and pulled off her muddy shoes, wriggled out of her skirt and tights, pulled the black school sweatshirt over her head. Naked, she crept to the window and pulled the curtains slightly apart.

‘Mia? What’re you doing?’ Will hissed. ‘Are you mad? Suppose someone sees you?’

‘It’s too dark. I don’t like it so dark. It’s just a tiny chink, no one will see.’ Mia crept back under the covers with Will. Her skin felt cool next to his. They put their arms round each other.

He doesn’t know. Inside me. His baby as well as mine. Ours.

The strip of grey light through the curtains revealed the soft shadows of his bedroom. His things. Books and CDs and old junk – rocks and fossils, model aeroplanes he’d made when he was ten or eleven, a music stand. She could just make out the title of a piece of music propped open: ‘Blue Moon’.

They listened as one by one the different family members went to bed. When finally the house was completely silent, everyone asleep, Mia crept into the bathroom to use the loo and wash her tear-streaked face. She longed for a hot bath, warm clean towels, someone to tuck her into bed. Now she lay next to Will. The first time they had spent a whole night together. It was strange, being warm and close like this, but still not saying. Not telling him what was happening inside her body right now.

‘Do you want to do it? Make love?’ Will’s whisper sounded loud in her ear. He stroked her back and for a moment she felt comforted. ‘It’s OK, you know, I’ve got a condom in the drawer.’

Too late for worrying about that, she could say. Should have thought of that right at the beginning.

‘Not here,’ Mia said. ‘It doesn’t feel right. Not with your parents just down the landing.’

Will sighed. He went on stroking her back though, and it wasn’t long before she turned round and kissed him, and his hands moved round to her breasts and then down over her belly and between her thighs, and then it was easy, and delicious and exciting and somehow comforting to Mia – quiet, gentle lovemaking so that no one would hear.

After it was over Mia lay next to Will, staring into the dark, arms wrapped around her own body.

She couldn’t tell him because she knew already what he would say. Because she couldn’t bear to see the look of horror and panic spread across his face. The way he’d withdraw, retreat, reject. This hadn’t been part of the deal. And what could he do? Maybe his parents could cough up the money, if she needed money. Though she couldn’t imagine how he’d tell them. And soon it would be all over Whitecross. That girl. In trouble. Again. But what did you expect?… The mother left them you know.

Lying in the cramped bed in the darkness, Mia knew she was alone really. Will couldn’t begin to understand her. She didn’t even want to try to make him. Tears dribbled down her hot cheeks and soaked the pillow.