You Against Me

Dad continued to scribble things down in his notebook. ‘The golf club tournament would count,’ he said. ‘You got through to the semi‑final in that, didn’t you, Tom?’

‘Quarter‑finals.’

‘Oh, well, that’s still something.’

It was like a war conference with maps and strategies. Ever since the arrest it had been the same, as if Tom had been diagnosed with some rare and terrible illness and they all had to concentrate on finding a cure. Nothing else was important.

Ellie dolloped a great heap of strawberry jam on the side of her plate, then broke off pieces of buttery croissant and dunked them in.

‘Hurry up, love.’ Her mum passed her a napkin. ‘You don’t want to be late on your first day back.’

Soon she’d be out there in the world, being driven down the lane to the main road, past the station, across the junction and into town. She’d managed to bunk Monday and Tuesday by claiming she had study leave, but then Dad had bothered to check the school’s website, so that wouldn’t wash any more. She tried to get out of it one last time. ‘Please, Mum, I don’t actually feel that well…’

Her dad shot her a glance. ‘School’s statutory, Ellie.’

‘Not if you’re Karyn McKenzie.’

A name so hot it made Tom blush. So hot her dad yanked his glasses off and waved them at her. ‘You’ve got nothing to be ashamed of, Eleanor, and that girl most certainly has, which is why she’s skulking at home. Now you go to school and you show everyone that.’

‘Like a sacrifice?’

‘No, like someone who’s done nothing wrong.’

‘It’s going to be horrible, with people taking sides.’

‘Well, then you’ll find out who your real friends are.’

He was referring to whoever had caused hundreds of pounds’ worth of damage to Tom’s car by scratching it up. He was also referring to the various people who hadn’t bothered showing up to the party. He’d gone on about their lame excuses for days – too much traffic on a Friday, no babysitter, too far to come from London, not enough notice. He hadn’t confronted any of it, said it was too upsetting to deal with. But now he wanted his daughter to go out and tackle the world.

‘You’re living your life vicariously through me,’ Ellie told him.

‘Good word!’ he said, pushing his glasses on with a smile and looking back down at his notebook. ‘Probably worth two marks in GCSE English.’

She turned to her mother. ‘Please, Mum.’

‘No, I agree with Dad. You’ve been stuck indoors for days and there’s no need for you to incarcerate yourself.’

Good word. How many points was that worth?

They’d obviously talked about it together and there was no dividing them. Ellie could see it in their eyes. Something premeditated and determined. She wiped her hands on the napkin and left the rest of the croissant on her plate.

‘Well,’ she said, ‘I better go then. I hope you two have a fabulous time with the barrister.’

She got a sad smile from her mum for that. ‘Come on,’ she said, ‘let’s get you out of here.’

As the car turned out of the lane into the main road, Ellie opened the window. There was a spring tang in the air, sunlight bouncing off everything. Primroses sprouted at the roundabout and in baskets at the bus stop. She liked this journey, down the side of the park, past the church. It was almost possible to believe she was going somewhere lovely and that good things might happen.

But the only good thing that had happened for days was meeting the gatecrasher. Ellie shut her eyes to remember him – his lazy smile, his swagger. She’d been angry all night about the stupid party, about getting into trouble for cutting Tom’s hair. Anger had made her confident, so when the boy came up to her, she hadn’t blushed or stumbled over her words, hadn’t minded about her scar. Standing in the half‑light by the river, she felt as if new things were possible.

What was it Tom said this morning on the landing? Be vigilant.

But being so suspicious of everyone took all your words away. Now it was spreading to actions. Twice she’d written the gatecrasher a text. Twice she’d deleted it without sending.

‘Do you know,’ she told her mum, ‘even in my dreams I’m careful.’

‘What I do  know is that I’m going to be late to see Tom and Dad off if I go round the one‑way system.’

‘Aren’t you going with them?’

‘I’m not needed, apparently.’

‘What will you do all day?’

She shrugged. ‘Usual things – tidy up, think about di

‘I’ll come. You’ve been asking me to help clear the cottage for weeks. We could go to the beach after. It’ll be fun.’

‘Nice try, but you’re going to school. Can I drop you here? Are you all right to walk the last bit?’

She pulled over on the near side of the river. Ellie watched the water for a minute. It was dark and barely moving. Maybe she could dive in and turn into the mermaid Tom had talked about. She could splash about until it was time to go home, surrounded by ducks and soggy bread.

‘Lunch money,’ Mum said, and handed over ten pounds. ‘And there’s enough for a coffee after school with your friends. I’m sure Dad will understand if you don’t come straight home and revise today.’

‘I’m sure he won’t.’

‘Come on, love, don’t be so hard on him. He wants you to do well in your exams, but he understands you need time for your mates too.’

Ellie wanted to explain that she had no mates, that fitting in at new school was more complex than her mum could ever imagine, that having your brother accused of sexual assault was not going to make it easier. But she also wanted to keep the hope alive in her mother’s eyes.

‘Well, if I’m late back,’ she said brightly, ‘you’ll know where I am.’

She opened the door. She had to walk along the side of the river to meet the bridge. The school was on the other side – three lowlevel buildings, all glass and angles. There was the playground, washed with light, the high tangle of voices as kids walked towards it from every direction.

‘You think everyone’s going to stare?’ she said.

‘Of course not. But if they do, tell a teacher.’

‘You think assembly will be cancelled, so I can be hot‑seated in front of the whole school?’

‘Oh, love, I know this is hard, but you have to be brave. Do it for Tom, sweetheart. Keep thinking of him.’

She leaned across and kissed Ellie on the forehead. Maybe it shone silver, like the one the good witch gave Dorothy in The Wizard of Oz.

Ellie could do with that kind of magic.

Nine

‘Mikey, you awake?’

Holly stood in the doorway of his bedroom. He moaned softly, hoped it sounded like sleep. But she didn’t go away.

‘Mikey?’ She climbed onto the bed and lay down.

There hadn’t been a morning for weeks when he hadn’t woken up to some kind of crisis. He took a deep breath. ‘What’s up?’

‘Mum’s gone again.’

He struggled to sit up, rubbed his eyes. ‘Did she sleep in her bed?’

‘No.’

‘Did you look downstairs and out on the balcony?’

Holly nodded, curled her hand into his. ‘And I knocked next door.’

‘And they haven’t seen her?’

‘No.’

He sighed. He knew his mum was struggling with all this Karyn stuff, but it was only four weeks since the last time she’d done a bunk. He should have guessed last night, when she’d told him she was going to the pub for a quick one. Well, the quick one had obviously turned into something a hell of a lot longer, which meant she could be anywhere. With anyone. He fumbled for his mobile, but the only missed calls were from Jacko and Sie

‘Don’t worry,’ he said. ‘We’ll call her, shall we?’

Holly snuggled closer to listen. The phone rang four times, then the message clicked in. Their mother’s voice apologizing for not being available.