8
I sat on the edge of the bed, feeling unrested and irritable. I wiped my palms across my face, trying to liven myself up. After the blood incident earlier, I’d woken up Mikey. He’d sworn a few times and tried to explain it away. Maybe some kind of bug? A side effect of my change? Or stress? His answers had been both random and inane, but simply talking to someone else made had made me feel a little better. I’d tried to recount my dream to him, but all I could recall was blood and the awful, suffocating fear. After an hour or so, exhausted from talking, I’d crawled back to my room and sank into bed for an uncomfortable, dreamless sleep.
As I trudged downstairs, the sight of the hallway full of suitcases made me raise my eyebrows.
Have Mum and John had an argument?
In the kitchen, Mum was standing over the sink. Dishes were caught in a torrent of sloshing water, scourers and soap suds, before being slammed down on the draining board. John stood to the side, rolling his eyes and drying the abused crockery with a haggard looking tea-towel. Spot on. “Going somewhere?” I asked, pointing a thumb in the direction of the hallway. John looked up. “Are you taking the piss?” I stared at him blankly. He frowned. “Ireland. Connie and Edgar…remember?”
The cogs turned and my brain engaged. My grandparents on Mum’s side had moved to Killarney about ten years ago. It was a tradition for us to visit them once a year, just before Christmas. But this year, the only time John could get off work came before Mikey and I broke up from school. Rather than cancel the trip, we’d insisted they go anyway. Secretly I’d been a bit gutted. I liked Connie and Edgar. They were the sort of couple that had been together so long, they lived their lives through a series of combined routines. Connie made the bed, Edgar prepared breakfast. Connie poured afternoon tea, Edgar put out the biscuits. Connie fixed dinner, Edgar laid the table. The list went on. Plus, without fail, every morning, they got up at seven and went for a twenty minute stroll along the beachfront — hand in hand. They relied on each other to make their world revolve. It was heart- warming to see.
I frowned. Is it really that time already? I’d been so wrapped up in myself, I hadn’t noticed anything else. Mum smacked another plate down onto the draining board. A piece chipped off and clattered onto the tiled floor. “Bloody hell, stop it now Elaine!” John cried out, retrieving the rogue shard. “What’s going on with you two?”
Mum turned to face me. She’d been crying. Her mascara ran down her face in two thick lines. The image made me shudder involuntarily.
John sighed and flopped his tea-towel down on the worktop. “As you know we’ve had this trip planned for some time. But at the last minute, your Mother has decided that she no longer wants to go.” He glared at his wife. “Isn’t that right Elaine?” I leaned a hand against the worktop. “Why don’t you want to go Mum?” John folded his arms across his chest. “Because of you Alexander…because of you,” he said, chewing on his irritation. “Me?” I said with genuine surprise. “Your mother has got it into her head that you need her right now.” “Mum?”
She walked over to me and placed her hands on my arms, leaving a topping of soap suds. “You’ve seemed so troubled lately sweetie. Up and down all the time. I just don’t think leaving you right now would be the best idea.”
I stared at her swimming eyes, trying to work out what she was thinking. Does this have something to do with what she said the other day? I couldn’t be sure, but I knew for certain that with all these crazy things happening, it would be better to have them out of harm’s way.
I shook my head slowly. “Mum you don’t need to look after me. I’m fine — better than fine, I’m great! Go enjoy yourselves. Mikey and I are more than capable of surviving on our own.” I tried my best to look as serene as Buddha. “I don’t think that-” “Mum, honestly, nothing’s going to happen!” I interrupted. “But-”
“I’m fine. Go!” “If you’re sure…” “I’m positive. Nan and Granddad will be disappointed if you don’t go.” “He’s right Mum,” yawned Mikey, appearing in the doorway. “Besides, they’ll have rota’d you in by now.”
“Rostered sweetie” corrected Mum, as she pulled me into a hug. I glanced over at John, who winked and gave a thumbs up. No doubt thinking of the two weeks of dog tracks and local pubs that was now back on.
The rest of the morning was devoted to the torrent of information which served as a precursor to any of Mum’s trips away: a list of food in the fridge and cupboards, where the emergency money could be found — for food, not alcohol, how to successfully operate the oven, washing machine and dryer and finally how the neighbours would be watching and would duly report any parties. The latter seemed to be aimed at Mikey, who mumbled a response, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. Mum made me promise that if I needed her at all, I would call immediately and they would cut their trip short. After the fifth round of promises, she seemed convinced. They loaded their bags into the Volvo estate, beeped the horn and backed out of the drive. Mum’s eyes stayed fixed on me the entire time. Her guilty expression stayed in my memory long after they’d disappeared.
Rubbing my arms against the cold, I turned to go back inside.
And saw my schoolbag.
It sat innocently in the space between the doorstep and hedge like a patient visitor. With a shaking hand, I opened the zip to be greeted by the sight of all my things which had previously lain scattered over Mason Avenue. I snatched up the bag, clutching it between my arms like a baby and scanned the street for signs of elusive Samaritans.
Nothing.
The next few days were crazy free. Mikey and I got to and from school without being attacked by any demented creatures. The new car remained in one piece. I had no disturbing nightmares…that I remembered anyway. I certainly didn’t cry any more blood. Mikey and I developed a kind of camaraderie over the whole situation and he always looked a little disappointed when I had no new news for him.
Lunchtimes were shared with Gabriella and Tim. Once he’d got over her looks, and could string words beyond my phone number together in her presence, we got on well as a trio. Meanwhile I’d become a bit of a talking point. Fellow students were intrigued by the new, confident, Audi-driving Alex. I went from being a nobody to a blip on their radars. When I walked down the corridors, those coming in the other direction moved out of my way, instead of ploughing through as if I didn’t exist. Others gave the slightest nod in the hallways. I moved from the reject seats in History to the middle. In English and Science, there were suddenly people on my row. I had received a social promotion. No longer a bottom feeder, I’d evolved into a respectable sized fish. There were no delusions on my part. I knew much could be attributed to superficial improvements and a certain girl I hung around with. But I’d be lying if I said I didn’t enjoy it. I’d spent so much of my life living on the outside; it felt good to walk on the other side of the fence.
My only remaining problem had a skinhead and drank too much. I hadn’t bumped into Terry for several days. This meant I was overdue a run in. No doubt TJ would have informed him of my unacceptable behaviour in Science and no doubt Terry was itching to beat an apology out of me. But this time, if he tried, things were going to end differently. I was tired of playing the victim.
Friday morning, the school had an air of the approaching weekend to it. Everyone seemed to carry a relaxed vibe around with them. They leaned against lockers and chatted away, bright looks filling their faces. First years sat around, wired into iPods and handheld computers, until stern looking teachers came and collected them up. Girls gossiped in small circles, giggling in unison. As I made my way in, people I barely recognised smiled at me. I returned the gestures, submitting to the good atmosphere. I lounged through my History lecture, doodling on my folder as Mrs Carter droned on. I could feel Grace glance at me every now and then. I slipped out my phone and text her a smiley face, just for the hell of it. She sent me one back with a tongue poking out and an x. A landmark — technically the first kiss I’d ever received from anyone other than Mum. I smiled and put the phone back in my pocket.
A surprise test dumped me into reality. Taking the sheet, I groaned. I hadn’t been listening to a word. But to my surprise, when I flipped over the sheet I found I could answer all the questions without so much as the briefest second to ponder what the answer could be. It was as though my brain had automatically soaked in all the information and could retrieve it as easily as my own name. I left the class with my high spirits still firmly intact. At my locker, as I changed my History textbook for Rebecca, I turned my head to see Richard and Elliot heading in my direction. “Hey Alex!” Richard said, shaking my hand. Elliot clapped me on the arm. “Hey guys, what’s up?” I said, unzipping my bag and dropping the novel inside. “The usual, full day and then footie training,” said Elliot.
“Kill me now,” groaned Richard as he opened a locker near mine. The inside was adorned with pictures of
