Abomination (7 page)

‘Hello, Mrs Coxon. Yes, that’s right. He sometimes lends me his ruler.’ What a stupid thing to say, but I was really nervous.

Mrs Coxon chuckled. ‘So the ruler brought the two of you together, eh?’

‘Oh, we’re not together, Mrs Coxon. Not like . . .’ I felt my cheeks burn. Goodness knows what I’d have said if Scott hadn’t interrupted.

‘Where’s Dad?’ he said.

Mrs Coxon frowned. ‘Martha and I are talking, Scott. Your dad’s gone over to Brian’s to look at his new computer.’

‘Sorry, Mum.’

He’d got me off the hook though. Mrs Coxon took my jacket and showed me where to sit. Scott sat beside me at the kitchen table, but not too close. His mother hung my jacket in the hallway, then brought Cokes from the fridge and a plate of Kit-Kats. As the two of us sipped and nibbled she bustled about the kitchen, lobbing questions to keep the conversation going.

‘So, Martha, what do you like to do in your spare time? Are you a TV and computer freak like Scott?’

‘No. We haven’t got a TV or a computer, Mrs Coxon. I have jobs to do in the house, and I read quite a lot.’

‘Hmm. I wish we could get Scott interested in books.’ She smiled. ‘Perhaps your influence will rub off on him, eh?’

‘I don’t know.’ I was looking round her kitchen. It was gorgeous, like a kitchen in a magazine. I’m going to have one just like it someday. Light, bright and shiny. No cold tiles. No dark corners.

‘What d’you read, dear?
Point Horror
,
Sweet Valley High
? Or are you into fanzines?’ She was unloading the dishwasher. At our house, I’m the dishwasher. I shook my head.

‘I’m not allowed books like that, Mrs Coxon. Or magazines. I’ve got Arthur Ransome and Enid Blyton and a lot of school stories, and
Little Women
. When I was younger I read
Alice in Wonderland
. That was my favourite. And I read the Bible.’

‘Very good. I had
Alice
too, and
Little Women
, but I liked the Nancy Drew stories best. Did you ever come across her, Martha? Nancy Drew, girl detective?’

‘I don’t think so.’ I looked at Scott. ‘They’re not in the school library, are they?’

He shrugged. ‘Dunno. They sound like girl’s books. I read Pete Johnson’s, when I read at all.’ He grinned. ‘The Internet’s my thing. Dead educational, though Mum doesn’t think so, do you, Mum?’

His mother sighed. ‘I can’t see how talking to some lad in Florida about favourite rock bands is going to help with your GCSEs, Scott. There
is
educational material on the Net, but I don’t notice you downloading it.’

‘No, well, a guy’s got to have fun sometime, Mum.’ He chuckled. ‘Curling up with Nancy Drew just wouldn’t do it for me and anyway, was
she
the reason you got eight O-levels or whatever?’

‘It’s hard to say, dear, but going to sleep at half past nine after a chapter certainly made me brighter next day than if I’d sat up half the night surfing the Net.’

She was really nice, Scott’s mum. Talked to us like equals, you know? Asked sensible questions and actually listened to our answers. Not like Mother, quoting the Bible every two minutes, showing no interest in anything that goes on outside the house or church. I could have sat there for ever but I left at twenty to eight. Mrs Coxon offered to run me home – she has her own car – but I didn’t dare let her, and I didn’t dare let Scott walk me either. I hurried away along Dinsdale Rise and it felt like leaving the real world behind and descending into the twilight zone.

Because that’s what my parents’ house is. Their house, and their life. The twilight zone.

28. Scott

So, Mum – what d’you think?’ We’d watched Martha go out of sight before closing the door.

Mum smiled. ‘I think she’s a very nice girl, darling. Bit shy, but that’s to be expected if she hardly goes out.’

‘That’s not what I meant. D’you think she’s the sort to tell lies?’

Mum shook her head. ‘I don’t know, Scott. She was only here forty-five minutes, for goodness sake.’

‘I know, but you must’ve got
some
idea. Can you see her lying to get sympathy?’

‘No dear, I can’t. As far as it’s possible to tell, I’d say she answered my questions with the plain, unvarnished truth.’

‘So you’ll help her?’

‘Oh, Scott!’ Mum treated me to her exasperated sigh. ‘I don’t know what you think I can do. Obviously Martha’s unhappy at home and it’s easy to see why. She’s not allowed to do the sorts of things other children do. She doesn’t have the possessions most children take for granted. Most children in our society, I mean. And the poor creature must stick out like a sore thumb at school, if her uniform’s anything like that thing she had on this evening. Her parents must be deeply insensitive but you see, that’s not a crime, and unless they’re breaking the law there’s nothing anybody can do.’

‘Beating her’s illegal.’

‘I know, dear, but there’s no proof. If your dad and I went to the police and told them the Dewhursts beat their daughter, the first thing they’d ask for was proof. When we said we had none, they’d refuse to act.’

‘Well . . . would it be proof if
Martha
told them?’

‘I doubt it. She’d have to show the marks or something.’ Mum looked at me. ‘You see, that’s another thing. If she’s beaten as she claims, I’m surprised someone at school hasn’t noticed marks on her body. A PE mistress, perhaps.’

I shook my head. ‘Doesn’t make her a liar. Maybe her rotten dad’s smart enough not to leave marks.’

Mum nodded. ‘You may be right, dear, but the problem remains. Nobody can do anything without proof of wrongdoing, no matter how sorry they feel.’

I was mad.
Really
mad. Mum’d asked me to bring Martha home and I had, and now here she was saying she couldn’t help anyway. I felt like going berserk. Smashing something, but I didn’t. I just looked at her and said, ‘I’ll find a way to help her, Mum. Proof or no proof.’ I wished I felt as cool as I sounded.

29. Martha

I was home by five past eight. Nearly two hours to spare. It was dusk and everything looked the same. No fire-engines. Nothing stuffed through the letter-box. No neighbour waiting to ask about the peculiar sounds coming from our cellar. I could probably have stayed longer at Scott’s. I wished I had. I checked on Abomination, then continued my campaign of rebellion with an hour of Radio One. I danced to the music because I felt like it. Nothing – not even the fact that this house was a dungeon – could make me sad tonight. Just after nine I switched off, re-tuned the set and went up to my room. Nine’s my bedtime. If either of my parents comes home and catches me downstairs, I’m in trouble.

Next morning Mr Wheelwright mentioned the Hanglands Expedition. It was a day I’d been dreading because there was no chance of Father letting me go. All the kids knew. I could feel them watching me as Wheelie told us the money had to be in by the first of May. Seventy pounds. ‘Hands up those who are definitely going.’ He did a quick count. ‘Right. Hands up those who
think
they’ll be going.’ Another count. ‘Uh-huh. Anybody definitely
not
going?’ Slowly I raised my hand. It was the only one. Wheelie nodded and scribbled something on his pad. Tracy Stamper kicked my ankle. ‘Never mind, Rags. You never know – your folks might win the Lottery.’ The rest of the table sniggered, except Scott, who gave Stamper a dirty look and me a quick smile.

At break Scott said, ‘I wish you were coming to Hanglands, Martha. It won’t be the same without you.’

I shook my head. ‘Nobody else thinks that, Scott. They’re glad I’m not going.’

‘They’d probably rather
I
didn’t, come to that.’ He pulled a face. ‘I’ve a good mind to drop out.’

‘No, don’t. Not for me. It’s nice of you, but I don’t want you to.’

He shrugged. ‘Well, we’ll see.’

I smiled. ‘It was great last night. Your mum’s terrific.’

Scott frowned. ‘She’s OK I suppose.’

‘OK?’ I laughed. ‘You’re really lucky, Scott. Nice home, normal parents. I wish I lived at your house.’

‘Huh! You’d soon see the other side of Mum and Dad if you did, Martha.’ He grinned. ‘Nothing to stop you coming tonight though. We could finish those Kit-Kats.’

I shook my head. ‘Better not, two days on the trot. Your mum’ll think I’m your girlfriend.’

Scott nodded. ‘She does already, so you might as well come.’

‘I daren’t. Not tonight. I
will
come again soon though, I promise.’

‘Well, how about me coming to your house?’

‘
My
house?’ I shook my head. ‘It’s impossible. I told you – I’m not allowed to bring
anyone
home, let alone a boy.’

‘Who’d know, with your folks out working?’

‘It’s not just that, Scott. Our house is awful. Cold and dark, with no nice things in it. If you saw it you’d stop being my friend.’

‘Would I heck! I don’t care about your house, Martha. It’s not yours anyway, it’s theirs. I
want
to see where you live, so I can think of you there whenever I want to.’

‘Well . . .’ I sighed. ‘I’ll think about it, all right?’ He smiled. ‘Fair enough. And in the meantime I’m going to have a word with Dad about Hanglands.’

I looked at him. ‘
What
about it?’

He winked. ‘You’ll have to wait and see.’

30. Scott

‘Dad?’

‘Uh-huh?’

‘You know that girl at school – Martha?’

‘Oh, yes.’ Dad lowered his newspaper and gave me an amused look. ‘Your mother told me you brought a girl home. Starting a bit young, aren’t you? When I was twelve I was only interested in aeroplanes.’

I should’ve known he’d say something like that. I shook my head. ‘She’s not my girlfriend or anything, Dad. We’re just friends, and I . . .’

‘Oooh ah!’ He looked across at Mum. ‘Heard that one before, haven’t we, love – just good friends?’ Mum chuckled.

‘Well, it’s true.’ They were getting to me, probably because I wasn’t sure myself that Martha was just a friend. I certainly spent more time thinking about her than any friend I’d had before. I tried again. ‘The thing is, she’s the only kid in Year Eight who’s not off to Hanglands and I don’t think it’s fair, just because her parents won’t give her the money, and I was wondering if we . . . if you could pay for her, Dad.’

Dad’s grin faded. He folded his paper, slid it on to the coffee table and looked at me. ‘Son,’ he said, ‘that’s not the way it works. People have reasons for the decisions they take, and they have their pride, too. This girl’s parents might have a perfectly good reason for not wanting her to go to Hanglands.’ He shrugged. ‘Maybe they’re frightened she’ll have an accident, canoeing or abseiling or something. It might have nothing to do with the money and even if it has, imagine how they’d feel if some other kid’s parents offered to pay. If they couldn’t afford it they’d feel ashamed, and if they were just being stingy they’d feel angry.’ He shook his head. ‘There’s an old saying, Scott.
Fools rush in where angels fear to tread
, and I’m afraid this is a case in point. It doesn’t do to rush in, interfering in other people’s lives. They won’t like you for it, and you may end up doing more harm than good.’

I could have given him an argument. I could have said,
I thought we were supposed to help one another
, but I didn’t. I know my dad. Once he’s made his mind up, that’s it. I was just glad I hadn’t told Martha beforehand. That’d have been an even bigger bummer.

31. Martha

A favourite saying of Mother’s is
Ask, and ye shall receive
, so I decided to try it out. I wouldn’t have done it a few weeks ago but this was the new Martha. Martha, the sister of Mary and the special friend of Scott. Even so, I waited till Father had gone.

‘Mother?’

‘What is it, Martha?’ She was getting ready for work.

‘It’s the Hanglands Expedition soon, and Mr Wheelwright wants the money in by the first of May.’ I said it as though I fully expected to go.

She stopped in the middle of buttoning her cardigan. ‘Why are you telling me about the Hanglands Expedition when you know full well we can’t allow you to go? Who do you think would look after the house, see to Abomination, while your father and I were at work?’

‘It’s only three days, Mother.’

‘
Only
three?’ She snorted. ‘I suppose you wouldn’t care to ask your father to take
only
three days off work so you can go, would you?’

‘I thought . . .
you
might stay home, Mother. Just this once.’

‘Oh you did, did you? You thought I might not mind losing twenty-four pounds in wages
and
forking out whatever ridiculous sum they’d want for teaching you how to paddle a canoe? It’s going to be
really
useful to you in your adult life isn’t it, knowing how to slide down a cliff? People will be queueing up to employ you.’

I shook my head. ‘It doesn’t matter, Mother. I didn’t really expect to be allowed to go, even though you’ve often said to me,
Ask, and ye shall receive
. At least I know
that’s
a nonstarter, don’t I?’

She turned drip-white. Screamed at me. ‘
Don’t you dare quote scripture at me, young woman. Wait till your father gets home – you’ll receive what you’ve asked for then all right
.’

I didn’t though. I didn’t receive. Oh, he came stamping up the stairs, muttering. Working himself into a temper, but I’d shoved my chest of drawers across the door. You should’ve heard the language. Satan would’ve blushed. He stamped back down at ten past ten, growling about what he’d do to me in the morning, but when the time came he didn’t do anything. I think Mother’s sensed something about me. Some change. I bet she told him to lay off. Well, I
know
things don’t I? Secrets. And I’m growing up. They can’t pray that away, or beat it out of me either.
Time is on my side
. That’s not in the Bible but it’s true. I bet if I pushed hard enough I’d even get to Hanglands, but I’m not bothered.