You Against Me

‘I didn’t expect it to be like this,’ she said. ‘It’s so… bleak.’

There was her gran’s old armchair by the side of the fireplace and Granddad’s hard-backed chair by the window. There was the sofa against the opposite wall. But everything else had gone – no books or photos on the shelves, no trinkets, even the TV had disappeared.

‘I thought my mum came here to get away from my dad for a bit, but she really was clearing the place out.’

Mikey touched her gently on the arm. ‘It’s cold, which doesn’t help. We’ll put the heating on.’

They went into the kitchen together and hunted for the boiler, which they eventually found in a cupboard. It was ancient, had some kind of pilot light that needed holding down and an ignition switch that needed pushing. Ellie stood next to Mikey while he worked it out. She liked him knowing what to do.

‘Disconnected,’ he said, ‘which means there’s probably no electricity either. I’ll have a look and see if there’s an oil burner or anything.’

While he searched in the hall closet, Ellie went back into the lounge, stood in front of the fireplace and rubbed her hands together, as if that would make a difference. Sadness washed over her in waves. She’d wanted it to be good, somewhere to escape to. She wanted sunlight streaming through the windows, like when she was a kid.

‘Nothing,’ he said as he came back in. ‘Not even a candle.’

‘I’m sorry. I brought you all this way and it’s rubbish.’

‘Don’t worry.’ He nudged her with his elbow. ‘I like adventures.’

That was so kind; he was so kind. Dad or Tom would be fuming at the wasted journey and the freezing cottage. They’d be marching off down the road by now, looking for the nearest taxi rank. She felt the world loosen around her as Mikey stood there smiling.

‘Well, I’m sorry anyway.’ She meant for everything – the cottage, Karyn, all of it. None of it was fair. She wiped her face with her sleeve and gave him what she hoped was an upbeat smile. ‘So, what shall we do now?’

He laughed. ‘Wait there. I’ll be back.’

He went out of the lounge, down the hallway and out the door. She heard him scrunch down the gravelled path towards the gate. She sat on her gran’s chair by the empty fireplace and waited for what would happen next. He wasn’t long, came back in with a pile of newspaper and some logs and sticks in a basket.

‘I noticed the shed when we came in,’ he said. ‘I thought there might be wood.’

He ripped up sheets of paper, screwed them into balls and put them in the grate. He built a pyramid around them with twigs and stacked larger sticks around that.

She leaned forward on the chair watching him. ‘How do you always know what to do?’

He grinned. ‘Every bloke knows how to build a fire.’

She didn’t think that was true.

Mikey got out his lighter and lit the paper. She sat next to him on the rug as the flames took hold.

‘There’s plenty of wood,’ he said. ‘We can dry our clothes as well.’

He began to unlace his trainers. She wondered if his heart was slamming as fast as hers. All her clothes were wet. How many were they taking off? She pulled her own trainers off and placed them next to his on the hearth. They peeled off their socks and laid them next to their shoes. She unzipped the jacket he’d lent her, knew he was looking as she carefully hung it over the chair so the heat could reach it. She watched him pull his hoodie off and spread it out on the floor. He was only wearing a vest top underneath.

‘Is that a tattoo?’

A small green snake with a red tongue writhed on his shoulder as he lifted his arm to show her. She traced the tattoo with her finger and he watched her. His skin was soft and she didn’t want to stop touching him. But she couldn’t go on for ever, so she pulled her hand away and put it back on her lap.

They sat there looking at each other. He looked away first.

‘You think there’s any food hidden away?’ he said.

‘I doubt it.’

He smiled as if he didn’t believe her. ‘Show me.’

He was right. There were some potatoes in a basket at the bottom of the larder. He wrapped them in silver foil and shoved them under the fire. They played childish games while they waited for them – Noughts and Crosses and Hangman. She found a pack of cards and taught him to play Rummy and he taught her Go Fish. It was like a siege and they were hostages.

When they got bored of games, they lay next to the fire on their backs and looked at the ceiling. Spider webs shivered in each of the four corners. There were cracks all over the plaster and the paint was yellow from her grandfather’s pipe. It made Ellie sad. They lay there for ages not saying a word, not touching at all. She cheered herself up by sneaking looks at him. There was something about him that made her dizzy – the dark of his hair, the brown of his eyes, the angles of him lying next to her.

This is real, she thought. This is real.

She wanted him to touch her. She wanted to say, Kiss me, please, do it soon.

But if she said that, then he’d think she was easy.

Instead she said, ‘Tell me what you’re thinking.’

He was thinking she’d probably never been with a boy before. He was thinking he’d never been with a girl who’d never been with anyone else. He was wondering why that was freaking him out. Lying next to her in front of the fire was stirring him up, and the longer they lay, the more he wanted to touch her. But what if he made a move and he’d mis-read the signs and she didn’t want him at all? Or what if he made a move and she did want him, but then he was rubbish and she hated it? Whenever she was asked about her very first time she’d say, Oh, it was shit.

She treated her body as if it was really special. He’d noticed it at the river and again today – how she kept changing the position of a strap or pulling buttons shut or yanking her dress lower so he couldn’t see bits of her. It was like she had something hidden and if you got in there, you’d be really privileged. It made him think of that line in the Spider-Man movie about power and responsibility. It was doing his head in.

‘I was thinking,’ he said, ‘about those potatoes. You reckon they’re ready?’

He dug them out with a fork while Ellie got plates from the kitchen. She came back with salt, pepper and, by some miracle, an unopened tube of cheese spread.

‘Found it in the herb rack,’ she said. She looked proud. Her face lit up with it.

They sat together on the carpet to eat, their plates on their knees. The potatoes were delicious.

‘This was a good idea,’ she said.

‘Coming here, or eating?’

‘Both.’

They smiled at each other. There was a sweet shyness about her that he really liked. It was as if his heart got rubbed clean looking at her, like it was possible to start again. You’re so pretty, he wanted to say. But he didn’t, because that didn’t seem enough.

‘I’m not sure about the cheese spread,’ she said. ‘It tastes like it’s only a molecule away from plastic. You know, if you put a pot of margarine on the lawn, not a single insect will touch it because it doesn’t recognize it as food?’

He laughed. ‘How do you know that?’

‘From Science.’

‘I don’t remember anything from school. The only lesson I liked was Food Tech and the rest was the most boring rubbish I ever had to listen to.’

‘You hated it that much?’

‘Don’t you?’

She shrugged. ‘Some things I like and the rest I put up with. Did you take any exams?’

‘They put me in for five, but I only got Food Tech and ICT.’

‘Did you revise?’

‘Not really. There was always something going on that seemed more important. You know – with my mum and sisters and everything.’

She nodded, but didn’t say anything.

‘Pass your plate,’ he said. ‘I’ll take it out if you’re done.’