CHAPTER TWELVE

Will was standing at the bus stop. Her heart pounded when she first caught sight of him, leaning against the shelter, his white school shirt unbuttoned at the neck and his tie half mast. And she felt a weird mixture of things – pleasure, fear, something else she couldn’t name. She saw the shock of recognition on his face as she stood up to get off. And then he grinned.

She stepped off the bus on to the pavement in front of him.

‘What’re you doing here, Will?’

He shrugged. ‘Got a lift back with Mum. She dropped me off. What’s all this about you being ill then?’

Mia flushed.

‘You don’t look ill. You look fantastic. Your hair –’

Mia’s hand reached up self-consciously to smooth down the spikes.

‘So how come you’re off school officially? As opposed to your usual skive?’

She started to walk away from the bus stop. ‘Not here. We can’t talk here.’

‘Why not?’ He caught her sleeve.

She ignored his question. ‘How come you knew I’d been to Ashton?’

Will shrugged. ‘Dunno. Just a guess. What’ve you been doing?’

‘Hanging out. Getting my hair cut. Talking to this girl.’

‘Who?’

‘She’s just a little kid. But I keep seeing her – hanging around town, or by the river – there’s something wrong – something odd about her.’ All the way home from Ashton Mia had been thinking about Lainey. It wasn’t right, a child her age on her own like that all day; anything might happen to her. And that time she’d seen her on the bridge. It was dangerous. She could’ve fallen in really easily and only Mia would have seen.

Will wasn’t interested in her talking about Lainey. ‘Do you want to stay here or shall we go back together?’ He put his hand on her arm and the touch made her shiver.

‘Mia? Are you OK?’

It was hopeless, carrying on like this, Mia thought. She had to tell him. Becky thought her ridiculous, that she hadn’t already. She’d gone on about it over the phone to Mia. ‘… Why shouldn’t he take some responsibility? It’s his fault too. He ought to have to think about it too. It’s not fair…’ Mia had found it too difficult to explain. That there wasn’t any point. He couldn’t help her.

‘What’s wrong, Mia?’ He was persistent. Perhaps he knew already. Perhaps Becky had finally said something. And it was all round Year Eleven. Guess what? You know Mia’s away… well…

‘Can’t you guess?’ Mia spat out the words.

‘Becky said something about a virus, and Ali – why are you looking at me like that?’

‘I can’t believe you’re so – so – thick about some things.’ Mia started walking, fast, down the main road.

‘Wait!’ Will ran after her. She kept walking, but he caught up with her and together they watched in silence for a break in the traffic so they could cross. A white van screeched to a halt as Mia dashed out into the road. Will grabbed her arm and ran with her. The van driver wound down his window and swore at them.

‘Mia! Do you want to get us killed or what!’

Mia half ran, Will tagging after her. Couldn’t he see how upset she was? Why didn’t he just leave her alone? Go back to Ali or whoever he fancied now she wasn’t around at school? Without thinking, they both turned off the main road down the lane that went to the sea.

The beach was deserted; not even dog walkers had ventured out along the wet pebbles that afternoon. The tide was still high, just going down. The line of flotsam and jetsam stank with its new deposits.

‘I’m pregnant, Will. Did you really not guess?’ Mia turned her damp face towards his. She saw at once that he hadn’t. Ashen-faced, he turned abruptly away from her, picked up a grey pebble and hurled it into the sea. She watched him find another and then another, each time bigger stones, hurling them at the sea and swearing into the wind. Tears trickled down her face. That was it then. She started walking along the beach in the direction of home.

Eventually he caught her up. He had his hands in his pockets, coat collar turned up. ‘What are you going to do?’

He was afraid. She saw it in his eyes.

‘Dad’s made an appointment. At the hospital. For a termination.’ The word was loathsome, she thought. Like the other word. Abortion.

‘When?’

‘Thursday.’

‘So you’ll be all right then?’

‘Yeah.’

‘I’m sorry, Mia.’

‘Yeah. Well.’

‘What did your dad say?’

‘What do you think? He went mad. He’d like to kill you.’

Will kept his distance the rest of the way. Didn’t touch her once. She’d known he’d be like this. Shouldn’t have told him. Should’ve kept her secret.

‘Don’t say anything, will you?’ Mia’s voice was cold. ‘Don’t tell anyone. Ever.’

‘Don’t they know already? Becky and Ali?’

‘Just Becky. But she won’t say anything. I can trust her.’

They walked further along the beach in silence.

Finally Will spoke again. ‘It’s not so terrible. Is it?’

Mia gritted her teeth. She mustn’t cry. Not now. Not with him.

They’d reached the footpath and the turning to Mia’s lane. Mia stopped. ‘You can’t come near the house. My dad really will kill you.’

She saw that look on his face again: fear, horror, a sort of blankness. Like Dad had looked when she’d told him.

‘I’ll be off then.’ His words sounded strangled.

‘OK.’

‘See you around.’

‘Yeah. Whatever.’ Mia felt the ice freeze harder in her voice.

She watched his back as he trudged up the lane and took the turning to his house. He didn’t look round. Was that it then? They would be like strangers to each other? She’d see him at school, larking about with Liam and Matt and people. Hanging around with Ali, no doubt. And they’d both know this horrible secret and neither would say anything about it?

She tried to imagine him going into his house, his mum calling out hello, him going upstairs to that room where she’d stayed the whole night in the bed with him without anyone knowing. He’d lie down on the bed, put on the headphones, let the music drown out his feelings until he had blanked it all out. So he could go downstairs into the kitchen and no one would guess what had happened. Life carried on.

Mia cried all the way up the road to her house. Then she made herself stop. As she turned the corner a car manoeuvred out of the drive. It looked vaguely familiar. Metallic grey, a Citroen or something.

Dad was standing at the sink rinsing out two mugs. Bags of shopping were stacked against the kitchen table. Mia pulled out a chair and slumped over the table. Dad stared at her. Her hand stroked her cropped head defensively.

‘What on earth?’ He stopped himself in his tracks. ‘So that’s where you’ve been. Hairdressers. That’s a new one.’ He paused, looking at her. ‘Too short. But it suits you,’ he added grudgingly. ‘We had a visitor.’

Mia looked up. ‘Who?’

‘Your tutor.’

‘What?! What does she want now?’ Mia’s voice was a knife blade.

‘OK, calm down, it’s no big deal. She called to see how things are. You weren’t here. She had a cup of tea. That’s all.’

Dad concentrated on wiping down the draining board. The back of his neck had gone red.

Who did he think she was? Naive or what? Scheming bitch. Trying to get her hands on her dad now. Using her as the excuse. That’s all she needed. Dad going out with Miss Blackman. Imagine. Well she wasn’t staying around for that. She’d find somewhere else to go.

‘Oh, and Becky called by on her way home. To see how you are. Said she’ll phone tonight. Sit down a minute, Mia. I want to talk to you about, you know, Thursday. I phoned your mother. Wait.’

Mia was halfway up the stairs.

‘But she wasn’t in. We’ll try again later tonight.’

‘I don’t want her. I don’t want to see her or anyone. Leave me alone, can’t you?’ Mia yelled down the stairs.

She slammed the bedroom door. The cat had been asleep on her bed. He raised his head, yawned so she could see his needle-sharp teeth and leathery tongue. For a moment he stared at her with big yellow eyes. Then he jumped off the bed and stalked towards the open window. She watched him. The tip of his ginger tail flicked as he watched the sparrows on the grass below, but it was too high to jump. He stretched out his legs and spread out his claws, then settled back for a nap on the window sill. He kept one ear alert, listening out for the birds, one eye half open, watching her.

Mia lay on the bed, hands over her belly.

‘The baby is moving about gently to exercise its muscles, although you cannot feel these movements. At this point the baby weighs only about as much as a grape.’

Mia leaned over and slid the book back into the drawer under her bed.

A grape. A broad bean. Little bean. Sorry, sorry, sorry.