Chapter Twelve

I can hear singing. Not the kind of singing a choir might be involved in or a ghostly, haunting song. More a drunken yob-type singing. The kind of chanting that puts everyone on edge. I breathe deep into my gut and keep my footsteps light. A little way down the beach there is a crowd around a pitiful fire. I was hoping not to run into anyone at all. This really isn’t my night.

Of course, they might be nice people on an out-of-season holiday, like us, but previous experiences tell me to be wary. I creep forwards. They’re far enough away that they won’t see me if I’m careful. One of them is throwing stuff onto the fire to try to get it going properly and the others whoop and cheer every time. The singing is raucous and a tune I don’t know. I break into a trot as I pass them. The tips of their cigarettes move like glimmering red insects.

‘Alright?’

I stop.

‘What have we got here then?’

Two teenagers block my path. They are carrying torches. One shines a beam directly at me as if it’s an interrogation and the other, the boy who spoke, shines his onto his face from underneath his chin so he looks like some kind of devil.

I’m suddenly tired. I’m so tired I’m not scared. I exaggerate a sigh. ‘Look, I just want to get past, OK?’

‘See. I told you. It’s one of them.’ The boy seems disgusted. I’ve met his type a few times in the past. He doesn’t like me because of the colour of my skin. He hacks up from his throat and gobs at me. I feel wet slide down my cheek. I don’t want to give him the satisfaction of reacting, but I have to get rid of it, so I take a tissue from inside my pocket, slowly, calmly, wipe it away then flick the tissue at him.

I start my countdown. Ten.

He spits again but misses. ‘Want to join in the party?’

The one who is shining a light in my face sways drunkenly then drops the torch and scrambles to pick it up.

Nine.

‘Not really. I’m quite particular about who I party with, thanks. Also, I like a proper fire rather than that piddling thing.’

The torch dropper giggles. I recognise her. She’s one of those girls from outside the shop who I pretended to curse on the first day and she’s drunk, but in a stumbling, tipsy sort of way. The boy is drunk in a much worse way. His features are nasty, and his mouth is a bloodthirsty snarl.

‘Think you’re funny, is it? Think you’re funny, is it?’

Eight. He’s moving towards me menacingly but I’m damned if I’ll give up my ground.

Seven. A nerve twitches at the side of my eye.

‘Look. I don’t know who you are. Or where you came from. But I just want to go home.’ I sound exhausted but reasonable.

He snickers then spits at me again. He misses but flecks of it catch in the sea wind and land on my neck.

Six. I feel the nerve twitch again. The girl loses her balance and the beam of her torchlight judders across my legs. I cement my boots to the ground. I wipe the spit with my sleeve.

Five.

‘You don’t know where I come from? You don’t know where I come from?’ He sounds incredulous and more slaughtered than I’d originally thought. This could go a number of ways. I’m counting, but it’s not helping to calm me down like it’s supposed to. Adrenalin pumps through my body so hard it makes me jerk.

‘Leave her alone, Joshua.’ The girl slurs her words, but she sounds kind enough. She reels forwards and I reach out to right her.

The boy smacks my arm.

Four. Three.

‘Get your hands off her. Do you hear me?’

He shoves me and my feet almost let me down, but I manage to keep them rooted, here where I belong, here on this land which is mine as much as his.

My voice, when it comes, is cool and even. You’d think I was ordering an ice cream. Only I know that the anger raging inside me is stabbing to come out.

Two. ‘Listen, Joshua. And make sure you listen good.’ That’s it. I’m getting way sarcastic. ‘I’m not sure whether you think I have a problem with my hearing or whether you only know about five words which you have to repeat over and over to communicate with your stupid friends, but if you don’t get out of my way really, really soon I’m going to have to lose my temper.’

He obviously wasn’t expecting this. He actually gasps. ‘Is that right? Is it? Is that right?’

‘Again with the repetition.’

‘Hey, you lot,’ he shouts. ‘I’ve found someone who wants to join the fun.’

Things go into slow motion here. He grabs me and hurls me in the direction of the fire. The girl grabs hold of his shoulders and tries to pull him back. The fire has caught the wind and lights up the silhouettes of the gang. I fall forward onto my hands and knees, scraping my palm. The girl is screaming and slapping at him. He throws her off and she falls with a crunch. I hear the sound of her bones as they snap.

One.

There is a large stone under my hand. I jump up, holding it high, ready, and he tips off balance, falling heavily. I drop the stone and help the girl up. She stumbles towards her friends, holding her arm. She’s crying and I feel bad for her. He is fine but I only have moments before he will get back up. The singing has stopped.

I grab Mam-gu’s bag and go. The torches that fell along the path light the way back. I walk fast but I don’t run. I won’t give them that.

Something touches my shoulder

‘Argh!’ I spin round, fists up in front of me, ready to fight again.

‘Ssh. Calm down. You’ll get us in trouble.’ It’s Gwenni. I’ve never been so pleased to see someone in my entire life. I only just stop myself hugging her.

‘What are you doing out here?’ I snap.

‘I could ask you the same thing.’ She is equally stubborn.

I want to tell her everything. About the fight just now. About the ghost. ‘Just walking.’

She lets me not tell her. Sometimes she’s good that way.

‘I’ll walk with you.’ She doesn’t link her arm with mine like we used to. Things have changed. I say something sarcastic to try to make things normal. ‘Lovely evening, isn’t it?’

‘Yeah. The actual best.’

I sigh. It’s been a long night. I need all the friends I can get.

‘This is dumb. I’m annoyed cos you dumped me for Jake the Idiot because he is, well, he’s an idiot and I was your best friend and you dumped me … and, well, I’m mad about it. Really, really mad.’

There I’ve said it. Not very eloquently, but I’ve said it. Gwenni will probably never speak to me again.

‘You’re right. He is an idiot.’ Although she’s partially hidden by the night, I can tell that she’s choked up. ‘He’s been going out with Lorelei behind my back.’

This doesn’t come as a surprise. I’ve seen them together enough times. But Lorelei, of all people. Twice last year she scratched different boys’ names into her arm with a compass. That’s the kind of girl she is. How could he give up Gwenni for someone like that? I laugh, ‘OMG and JTI. The perfect couple. They can talk to each other in capital letters the entire time.’

‘I know.’

I don’t know what to say. I feel glad that he has dumped her and I’m not proud of it. I don’t say anything for a bit. Sometimes if you don’t have anything nice to say…

The gang from the beach are out of sight. We would hear them from here if they were coming after us. I like to think that boy’s prejudices were altered forever by my courage, but it’s more likely that he is too drunk to follow. I must let these things pass quickly, so they don’t eat me up from the inside out like parasitic wasps. I watch the waves crest then tip themselves back into blackness. I can tell from the movement of her shoulders that Gwenni is crying. She thinks the sea will cover her sniffling, but I’ve known her for so long we could be in a battlefield and I’d still be able to pick her out. I take a deep breath. ‘You should have known he was an idiot by the fact he is known as Jake the Idiot.’

She laughs. ‘Good point. Well made.’

We walk home with our arms linked tightly.

I go to tell her about the ghost, but as the words reach my tongue I eat them back. I’m not sure why. Perhaps I don’t want her to think me crazy or I don’t want to break this happy spell. It is the two of us together as it was for years and it makes me feel comfy.

We get back and part ways. I go into our caravan quietly in case Mam’s sleeping and so I can wash off the blood from where I’ve hurt my hand before anyone sees, but there’s a note to say they’ve popped out for a moment with Sherlock. Someone’s singing behind Snow’s curtain. It’s one of those old wartime classics that they always play when there’s a Sunday night drama. Snow must have a friend in there. A weird friend, granted, to be wanting to sing those old songs, but then most of Snow’s mates are weird.

I poke my head in through the curtains without announcing myself and find Snow completely absorbed in her drawing.

‘Who was singing?’

She shrugs her shoulders.

‘Just now.’ I search around her space, which is the size of a thimble, as if I’m going to find anyone there. ‘I heard someone.’

I know our walls are thin, but it didn’t come from outside.

Snow does the finger, thumb, circle thing to say OK, which translates as, OK, you oddball.

‘What are you drawing?’ I snatch her picture up. It’s yet another one of the girl in the green dress. ‘Why are you always drawing this girl?’ I’m fuming. I grab her other drawings, scrunch them up, then cast them to the floor. ‘Why can’t you just be normal?’

I leave her picking up the drawings and smoothing out the creases and go to rest my head against the table in the living area.

Mam and Dad choose this time to reappear.

‘Kids.’ Mam pokes her head through the door. ‘Lark. Snow. We’ve got a surprise for you.’

Snow comes out and we manage to avoid acknowledging each other without Mam noticing.

‘Ready?’ She opens the door properly to let through a scampering bundle of fluff, with the most pointed ears you could imagine and no sense of direction or knowledge of how not to bump into furniture.

‘A puppy!’ I squeal it for both of us and Snow drops to her knees to catch the gorgeous little gremlin of a thing, while I fuss Sherlock, who looks more than a little miffed. Then we swap, and I love the wriggling, scratchy, furry ball of joy immediately.

‘We know things have been difficult lately and she needed a good home.’ Mam is so happy. ‘A man in the pub had five he needed to find homes for and those eyes. We just had to get her.’

‘Your mam insisted, and you know what she’s like when she’s decided on something.’

Dad gives us each a piece of paper to write our suggestions for names on and we mull it over for a good while because a name has to last a lifetime. Finally, we put our screwed-up pieces of paper into a bowl and Mam picks one with her eyes closed because she is the only one we all trust not to cheat.

I won last time. This time Snow gets the choice.