You Against Me

He waggled the tobacco at Jacko. ‘You want me to make you one?’

‘Thanks.’

He made it nice and thick. He even lit it for him, which was a sign of something brotherly.

‘Maybe we should be lifeguards,’ Jacko said as he took the cigarette. ‘We always wanted to do that, remember?’

It was true, they’d always fancied it when they were kids. The lifeguards had a hut on the beach and a blackboard that said, YOUR LIFEGUARD TODAY IS… and then the names. They always had cool names – Troy, Guy, Kurt. They had regulation red shirts and they sat around looking at girls and occasionally moving flags and yelling at kids to get off the rocks. The tide came in from two directions, so the job did have some responsibility, and there was always something to look at – the skiboarders, the surfers. Sometimes a yacht would sail by, or three RAF planes would zip ridiculously fast along the horizon, followed seconds later by their sound.

‘What do you reckon, Mikey? We’ll get jobs as lifeguards if the cooking doesn’t work out?’

‘We could do that,’ Mikey agreed.

Jacko inhaled a chestful of smoke and blew it out. ‘You and me, man.’

Round the corner they swung a left, and there, sitting on the grass verge, were a couple of girls – map in hand, rucksacks, walking boots, the whole thing.

‘Hey,’ Jacko said as they drove past. ‘Let’s give them a lift.’

‘Let’s not, they look religious.’

Jacko laughed, put the car in reverse and roared back. He pulled in to the verge and leaned across Mikey to the window. One of the girls looked up, then the other.

Jacko swung his shades on to the top of his head. Seeing his eyes seemed to make them relax; one of them smiled, the blonde one. ‘Hi,’ she said.

‘You two lost?’

‘We’re fine, thanks. Just having a break.’

‘You’re looking at a map. You must be lost.’

‘Not really.’

The dark one looked down, said something in a low voice to her friend and she looked down too, tracing her finger across the map. Mikey watched them closely. He recognized something in the way they didn’t look up again. He’d seen it in Karyn before, how she could ignore something that was right in front of her and hope it would go away.

Jacko decided to give out names, obviously thought it might help. ‘He’s Mikey,’ he said, ‘and I’m Jacko.’

The blonde one smiled again. ‘And together you’re Michael Jackson?’

Jacko thought that was fu

‘So,’ Jacko said, getting his confidence up, ‘you want a lift then?’

The dark one said, ‘Actually, we’re OK.’ She stood up, hauled her rucksack onto her shoulders and held her hand out for her friend, who took it and stood up. ‘Nice to meet you,’ she said. ‘We’re going now.’

‘Don’t be like that,’ Jacko told her. ‘Come on, let us buy you a coffee. Or a beer. We work in a pub. Are you old enough for beer?’

The blonde one smiled again. ‘We’re old enough.’ Mikey could see she was tempted. But the dark one was wary, and she seemed to be in charge.

‘Leave it,’ Mikey said. ‘They don’t want to.’

‘Yeah, they do, they just need persuading.’

Jacko let the car slide away, down the lane, trailing them. They looked vulnerable walking away, easy to follow. So much to do with girls made Mikey feel guilty now – stuff on TV, porn lined up in the newsagent’s, song lyrics, page three of the Sun.  He was aware of it all in a new way, and he really didn’t want to be. What was he supposed to do about any of it?

Jacko called out of the window to them. ‘Come on, ladies. Don’t ignore us.’

They were both pretty. Both nice girls.

‘Can you go away now?’ the dark one said.

Jacko tutted at her. ‘Be nice to us. We only want to give you a ride.’

She turned to him, her eyes flashing. ‘A ride? Piss off, you’re not even fu

‘You were laughing just now.’

‘Come on,’ Mikey told him, ‘let’s go, it’s not worth it.’

‘Yeah,’ she said. ‘It really isn’t.’

‘Don’t fancy you anyway!’ Jacko yelled out of the window, before roaring off, leaving them with thick black exhaust smoke.

Mikey slunk down in his seat. ‘You shouldn’t’ve done that.’

‘It’s your fault.’

‘My fault? How?’

‘You cursed us,’ Jacko said, stabbing a finger at Mikey. ‘You changed the rules of the universe when you fell in love with the enemy.’

Mikey slapped his hand on the dashboard. ‘I’m not in love with her. We talked about this.’

‘Then ask yourself why you haven’t told anyone about her, not Karyn, not your mum. Why the big secret?’

‘The plan didn’t work, did it? Sue opened her big gob so Ellie knew who I was, then she got her psycho‑brother to beat me to a pulp and now it’s over. What’s the point of telling Mum and Karyn that? They take the piss out of me enough as it is.’

Jacko gri

‘I didn’t need saving. I had a plan.’

‘It was flawed.’ Jacko turned in his seat. ‘For days you’ve been at half mast – no girls, no drinks after work, no fun. If you’re sulking ‘cos you got mashed, then do something about it. We’ll go back with weapons if you like. We’ll take Woody and the others. We’ll get bombs and guns and kick his arse for good.’

Why couldn’t Jacko let it go? What an idiot. ‘It’s over, OK? I made a prick of myself. Ellie set me up and I’ll never see her again. So leave it, will you? There’s nothing to be done.’

Thirty

Ellie googled the word ‘rape’, but got the spelling wrong and brought up details of a sailing supplier that specialized in synthetic hemp. It made her smile for the first time in days. She changed ‘rope’ to ‘ripe’, expecting plums and tomatoes, but got some database reference manual instead, which made everything serious again. When she typed in the right word, she discovered that half of all girls experience some form of sexual abuse (from inappropriate touching to rape) before they are eighteen.

Everywhere, girls were being attacked. She made herself a jam sandwich and ate it looking out of the kitchen window.

Karyn was lying on her back, almost entirely covered by the duvet. She looked sweet, like she’d been tucked in. But when Ellie switched on the lamp…

No!

Ellie grabbed two packets of crisps and ate them quickly, one after the other, while she checked out the fridge and both food cupboards. Sometimes Tom hid his chocolate muffins somewhere other than the bread bin, but there was nothing. Maybe she could go out and get one? Morning had barely begun, but the bakery on the high street opened at six‑thirty She went to the hallway, pressed her ear to the front door and listened. Nothing. Even the wind, which usually whipped round the corner of the house and made the letterbox bang, was silent. She opened the door a fraction and checked along the length of the lawn in both directions. No one was about.

But there. What was that? A bird, with a splash of white on its chest, like milk on an oil slick. It swayed on the top branch of a tree in the lane and looked right at her. Was it a magpie? A jay? It cocked its head to one side and chuckled. It had little black eyes.

She waved a finger at it. ‘Hello.’

It tipped its head at her and opened its wings. She was amazed by a flash of purple, a totally mad colour for a bird – like something a king would wear to bed. She watched as it lifted itself into the sky, over the top of the house and away. She could hear its cry for ages. It gave her something to hold on to, something strangely reassuring.

She ran down the front steps and across the lawn. It was brilliant – both her legs worked, she didn’t get caught in a cyclone or struck by lightning, there were no crowds waiting at the gate with fists full of stones. She was making too much of it. It was totally obvious. In other countries there were wars. Right now, in some part of the world, someone was being burned alive in the street. And here she was, full of silly doubts about her brother – too freaked out to go to court and defend him.