You Against Me

‘My shoes might be dirty.’

She was wearing her school skirt and tights, like before. It filled him with longing and fear to be down there, close to her feet, close to her ankles, her knees, her thighs.

She took a handful of his jacket and pulled it gently, so he had to look up.

‘Maybe you should come and sit back down?’

But he couldn’t move. He was an animal, wild and hungry. He let his tongue hang out, did that panting thing dogs did, hoping for a smile. He rubbed his head against her thigh like he wanted stroking.

But she didn’t stroke him. In fact, she went a bit quiet and moved along the bench and looked at her mobile.

‘Don’t you need to go soon?’ she said. ‘Won’t you get sacked or something?’

It was very complicated, the way she went from flirting to cool, but he knew she liked him, however much she was avoiding it now.

‘I want to see you again,’ he said. ‘Will you meet me after my shift? I finish at ten.’

‘I’m busy tonight.’

Of course, she was only sixteen and it was a weekday evening – what was he thinking?

‘I get a half-day on Saturday,’ he said. ‘I’ll meet you in the afternoon, we’ll do something.’

She stood up, made a big show of adjusting her bag on her shoulder, then folded her arms at him. ‘What will we do?’

He should’ve thought before he opened his big mouth. It had to be quality with a girl like her. Not a pub or a club, but somewhere amazing – hot-air ballooning, or a trip in a space ship. It also had to be somewhere far away from everywhere.

‘I know. I’ll borrow my mate’s car and we’ll do that wild swim thing. You remember telling me about some place where the waves are really massive?’

She frowned at him, like that was the worst idea in the world. But he was burning with it. It was what he wanted to do more than anything else. Just for a bit. For a day. A half-day. An hour. To be alone with her.

Seconds went past. Ellie chewed her lip and stared down at the beach. The bloke with the dog was still there and the dog was yapping because the bloke was holding a ball a fraction out of its reach. Ellie watched them. Out of the corner of his eye, Mikey watched her.

This was deep for her. She was only in Year Eleven and he was two years older and knew stuff about the world. It was his job to make her feel OK.

‘Nothing can happen unless you want it to,’ he said.

Which wasn’t strictly true – just look at Karyn. But it would be true for Ellie. Eventually she’d give stuff away about her brother, and he wasn’t going to hurt her while he looked for it. They’d hang out, kiss some more. No harm done.

‘Ellie, come out with me, come on. What are you scared of?’

‘Not of you.’ She whipped round, her eyes shining. ‘All right, let’s do it then.’

It was like she was accepting a dare.

Twenty

All sensible websites suggest that you meet a potentially dangerous stranger in a crowded place, and that you tell a family member or a friend what you are doing. And here Ellie was, Saturday lunchtime, about to break the rules. In less than two hours, Mikey McKenzie would arrive at her house, and no one knew he was coming and no one but her would be in.

RSN, he texted.

He was right, it was going to be real soon now.

Ellie threw the phone onto her bed as if it was hot, then opened her bedroom window and looked out at the storm, at the dark clouds and fat splashing rain. She leaned on her elbows and watched. A cat dived for cover, cracks in the lawn sucked water into their grooves and all the trees sighed.

She gave revising a try, lay on her bed with geography books and tried to care about the movement of people from rural to urban areas following the industrial revolution. But thinking of big stuff made her feel small, and when she felt small, she stopped caring about revising and GCSEs and what happened next. It was easy to break any taboo when nothing mattered, so she picked up her phone and texted, TAU. It was true, she was thinking about him. He was pretty much all she’d been thinking about since Monday at the harbour.

His text came whizzing back: XOXOXO.

A series of hugs and kisses.

She needed food. Diets didn’t count in a crisis.

Her parents were sitting holding hands at the kitchen table. Cups of coffee and empty plates in front of them. They looked up and smiled as she walked in. It was lovely, like a normal family again.

‘Hungry?’ Mum said, pushing her chair back. ‘I’ve just made your dad a bacon butty. Want me to make you something?’

‘No thanks.’

Ellie knew what she wanted – one of Tom’s double chocolate muffins, kept in the bread bin and not to be eaten by anyone but him.

She ignored her mum’s frown as she helped herself and sat down to unwrap it. ‘You guys still going out?’

Her father nodded absently. ‘As soon as this rain eases up.’

They all looked out of the window, at the garden sinking under the weight of water. And that was it. Extent of conversation. Ellie’s journey down the stairs and into the kitchen had lightened the mood for a nanosecond. It was weird how there was nothing left to say or do that didn’t relate to Tom. They fell back into grief so easily.

Eventually, Mum took a sip of her coffee, grimaced and put the cup back down. ‘I can’t believe it’s the weekend again,’ she said. ‘I keep thinking any minute this will stop and we’ll go back to normal.’

Dad wiped a hand across his brow. He looked tired. ‘We shouldn’t expect normal any more. Not if that little bitch insists on going through with this.’

That was new, that word, and the way he spat it out.

‘Should you be calling her that, Dad?’

He looked at Ellie open-mouthed. ‘She’s in the process of ruining your brother’s life!’

‘It’s a horrible word, that’s all.’

He shook his head as if she was clearly mad and let his eyes slide back to the window.

When she was a kid, Ellie had spent every Saturday morning with Dad in the park – they’d go to the playground, feed the ducks on the lake, see if they could find decent trees for her to climb. Mum did a yoga class, Tom had football, it was only the two of them. ‘Wild child,’ Dad called her, and he’d pick leaves and sticks from her hair and let her choose whatever she wanted from the cafe for lunch. But something changed when she got to eleven, like he shrank away. She was too big for cuddles, too old for games and messing around. It was a slow retreat. But sometimes, if Ellie really thought about it, she realized he hadn’t taken proper notice of her for years.

‘Twenty-five miles in this weather,’ Dad said, ‘and when we get there, she won’t even recognize us.’

‘Simon,’ Mum said, ‘that’s my mother you’re talking about.’

He held up his hands. ‘So shoot me!’

Ellie sighed, checked her mobile. Just over an hour to go. No new messages. ‘So,’ she said, ‘are you coming back at the usual time?’

Her mum nodded. ‘Should be.’

‘Definitely,’ Dad said.

‘You’re only going to see Gran, right? Nothing else? You’re not going to the cottage to do more clearing out?’

‘Why all the questions?’ Dad said.

‘No reason.’ She pushed her plate away. She suddenly felt sick.

‘You shouldn’t’ve taken that muffin if you didn’t want it,’ Mum said. ‘In fact, you shouldn’t’ve taken it anyway.’