Bone Song (10 page)

I didn’t want to say anything in case I set Goody’s mum off again, but I had to.

They both stare at me like I’ve just said there’s a dead body in their apartment. Well, there will be if they leave the kitten there with no food.

‘It’s OK,’ I gabble, ‘I’ll go and feed it, or take it home, or find a home for it, or something…’ They’re still staring at me; no one’s saying anything and I don’t know whether to keep talking or shut up. I shut up.

Goody turned pale but now there are two red spots burning on her face and her chin
juts out. ‘I’m not leaving Midnight behind,’ she says.

‘We have to. We… I’m not going back there again. If he saw us…’ Goody’s mum is gasping, her hands gripping each other like she’s drowning.

‘You don’t have to go back. I will. I’ll take the key to Bobby, get him to fetch Midnight for me.’

‘No! You can’t! I don’t want to involve anyone else.’

‘Then I’ll go myself, sneak up the stairs from the other side where the garbage cans are.’ Goody’s voice is hard; she folds her arms and glares at us both.

‘Oh, Melissa, why are you being like this? You know we have to… I…’ Her mouth starts trembling and I think she’s going to cry. Oh shit. Now what? But she opens her door and half-falls out of the car. ‘I have to think for a moment, I have to…’ She staggers away from the car, towards
a row of huge, marble-topped graves, and sits down on one of them, her face in her hands.

‘You think I’m being stupid, or mean, don’t you?’ Goody stares out at her mother, her mouth twisting.

‘Er, no, I…’

Although actually I do, just a little. If her dad is as violent as she says, it’ll be a huge risk to go back for the kitten. Why won’t she let me take care of it?

‘Every time this happens, I lose my life. I lose my friends, all the things that are precious to me. I don’t have anything of my own any more. No one to love me just for me.’ Her voice wavers for a second, but she keeps going. ‘I’m always the one who has to be tough, to look after her when she falls in a heap, like I’m the mum or something. If she’d just been stronger right from the start, made him stop beating her, stood up for herself… she’s so useless sometimes!’

‘It’s not that simple, you know.’ I don’t want to argue with her but I have to say something. ‘It’s not one big, fast, battle and then it’s won. It’s the same stuff, day after day, like chipping away at a big rock. If they chip in the right places, eventually there’s nothing left to hold you up.’

That’s what my mother did with me. I tried so hard with the physio, I was so determined; and every day she did the pity and the
isn’t it really too hard on you?
routine. Fact is, I gave in. I’ve spent all this time and energy hating her and getting back at her. I should have spent it getting fit again.

‘It’s easy for you to say.’ Goody’s almost spitting, she’s so mad. ‘You’ve got a family, a big house, lots of money. You can have anything you want.’

‘I wanted to dance. I’d give up all the rest for that.’

‘So what’s stopping you? I want to be a nurse. Fat chance! I’m never in one school long enough to keep my grades up.’

I’m trying hard not to get angry with her. I can see that underneath she’s really frightened, but I guess she has a right to be mad too.

She asked a question. What
is
stopping me? My injured shoulder, that’s what.
Except they told me there was a chance I could dance again, if I kept up the physio and had two more operations
. Two more! In that hospital, with the zombie drugs and the pain and the possibility that it might not work. It was too hard. I couldn’t do it…
then you didn’t really want it badly enough!

‘You didn’t tell me you wanted to be a nurse.’ If I talk to Goody, I might calm her down and then we can make a move from here. I’ve got an idea. If her mum agrees.

‘What’s the point? It’s never going to happen.’ One big tear rolls down her face. She ignores it and jerks her head towards her mum. ‘D’you want to go and get her? We can’t stay here all day.’

‘Goody, don’t be mad with her. She can’t help it. She’s had all the brave part beaten out of her. You
are
tough and strong. That’s the way it is. It won’t be like this forever, you know.’

‘I hope not.’ She sniffs. ‘I made her leave, you know, after he cut her with the knife. I was so scared all the time. I had this teddy bear that I dragged everywhere. I even stuffed him in my schoolbag when I went to school. I thought Teddy might save us – stupid, huh?’ She shakes her head. ‘But after he cut her, I knew no one would save us. Mum wouldn’t go to the police. She said Dad had the cops in his pocket, that it was no use. So I made her leave. I said I’d run away on my own if she didn’t come with me. So all this is really my fault.’

‘No! Don’t say that!’ Suddenly a whole lot of things fall into place, like a jigsaw puzzle arranging itself on the table. ‘Go get your mum. Quick. We’ll go back to Middle Gate, park a couple of blocks away, and I’ll fetch Midnight. Your dad doesn’t know me.
The way I look, I’ll just be another punk on the street, right?’

Goody’s eyes light up. ‘You’d do that for me? Truly?’

‘Sure. It’s the safest option. And in a couple of weeks, I can pack up your things and send them on to you.’ I give her a hug. ‘But I’m going to really miss you.’

‘Me too.’ She hugs me back. ‘Another friend left behind.’

‘Don’t think like that. Things will work out, I have this feeling. For now, let’s just worry about the kitten and you two getting away safely.’

‘OK.’ She leans out of the car window. ‘Mum! Let’s go!’

Her mum looks blankly at the car and then wanders over. I don’t like the way she’s acting. ‘Is she going to be all right?’

‘She will be, even if I have to shake her
into it,’ Goody says grimly. ‘Mum, get with it. We’re taking Dobie back to our apartment. She’s going to get Midnight for me.’

‘But your father will see us.’ She slowly slides in behind the wheel. ‘We need to get out of town, not go back.’

‘No, Mum, we’ll park a couple of blocks away and Dad won’t see us. Come on, the sooner we do it, the better.’ She jiggles her mum’s arm and finally the engine’s rumbling and we’re on our way.

My stomach’s full of tiny, leaping frogs. I try to breathe evenly, in, out, in, out, and not think about what might go wrong. ‘What does your dad look like? Apart from the car he’s driving.’

‘He’s tall, with blond hair and a beard, but he’s a bit fat too. Is he still fat, Mum?’

Goody’s mum nods. ‘Yes, even more than before. Probably eating out all the time. He played football at uni but…’

‘Anyway, he’s big. You can’t miss him.’ Goody bites a fingernail and rips it away down to the quick. She must have frogs inside too, I think.

We stop talking and sit close together in the back seat. I can hear her breathing like me, a bit too fast, as she attacks another nail. I rub my sweaty hands on my new jeans. All too soon we’re in Middle Gate, pulling up under a scraggly tree.

‘Here’s my key,’ Goody says, handing it to me. It’s warm from being in her pocket. ‘We’re 402, remember? I’ll come with you to the corner and show you the entrance to the back stairs.’

‘You should stay here,’ her mum says.

‘Dobie won’t know where to go. I have to at least take her to the corner,’ Goody snaps. Her mum slides down in her seat and closes her eyes.

‘Let’s go,’ I say, before I can change my mind. Now the frogs are leaping around in
time to the huge drum in my heart.

We walk to the first corner and along the next street. A fat cloud crosses the sun and its dark shadow slides over the buildings. At the next corner, Goody stops and I bump into her.

‘Sorry.’

‘Why are you whispering?’ she says, and tries to smile. ‘That second building, the one with the blue windows on the second floor – that’s ours. You have to go past the garbage cans and through the grey door where it says Fire Exit.’

‘Won’t it be locked?’

‘Not around here. If there’s anyone in the stairwell, just walk past them no matter what they’re doing. Don’t even say hello.’

I’m not going to ask what they might be doing. I’ve got imagination, that’s enough. ‘Do you want anything else apart from Midnight?’

She hesitates. ‘My notebook, the one I write all my poems in. That’s all.’

‘OK.’ I take a deep breath. ‘Wish me luck.’

‘You don’t need luck. You just need to be careful.’

I walk away from her towards the grey door, my legs shaky. I pull the door open, head up the stairs, keep going fast even when I start to pant. The key is all ready to go in the lock, slide, turn, click. I’m inside. That was easy – I think. Where is the kitten? Where is Goody’s notebook?

For one horrible moment I think the kitten has been taken, but then I spy it on her mum’s bed, curled up asleep. The notebook is next to the futon. I pick up both of them and the kitten squawks. Where is the key? Did I leave it in the door? No, it’s in my back pocket. Great. Let me out of here.

Midnight claws his way up my T-shirt and cuddles into my neck. I hold him in
place, tuck the notebook under my arm and leave. Down the stairs, out the door, across the concrete, along to the corner. The street is deadly quiet. I can’t quite believe it. I search around, walk up and down. It doesn’t change a thing.

Goody has disappeared.

I watch Dobie walk across to our building and shiver. God, I hope she’s OK. Now I know what Mum means when she insists that we never involve anyone else. It’s too scary. Bad enough for us, but when I think of what could happen to Dobie…

She disappears inside and I relax a little. It should only take her a few minutes, then she’ll be back and we can hit the road. If Dad is where Mum said he was, he’ll be around the other side of our building, watching the entrance. Does he plan to stay there all day? I’d better keep out of sight in case he decides to cruise around the block.

Behind me across the street is a low brick wall and a few scrubby bushes. If I crouch down, the wall will almost hide me. As I cross the street, a car pulls up beside me. I nearly have a heart attack, but it’s not a Mercedes. It’s a low, blue, sporty thing. The driver’s window is open but I only see who it is at the last moment, then it’s too late to do anything except stand there like a dummy.

‘Hello, Melissa. Why don’t you get in?’ It’s Dad’s private detective, Louie or Lonny or something, smirking at me like he’s been so clever, finding me. He must’ve been watching the other side of the building while Dad took the front. ‘Come on, be sensible. We’ve already got your mum.’

‘No!’ I shout. That acts like a starter’s gun and I take off, running full tilt down the street, back to where Mum parked the car, looking for Dad’s car, praying I’ll get there in time. Too bad if Louie chases me, too bad about Dobie, I can’t go back and tell her, I have to get to Mum. There, our car is still where she parked it, is she still inside?
Where’s Dad? Oh God, he’s standing next to it. She’s still sitting in the driver’s seat. She hasn’t got out. Stay there, Mum, stay there!

I rush up to the car, lean against it, gasping for air. ‘Go away! Go away!’ I try to shout but my voice comes out all strangled.

‘Melissa. You’ve grown. You look lovely.’

What is this? He’s smiling, big white teeth, pretending it’s a happy reunion, happy family, what a lie, what a lie! ‘Get away from her.’

‘No, I can’t do that. You and your mother are coming home with me. This silliness has gone on long enough.’

Louie pulls up in his car, but Dad signals him and he doesn’t get out.

‘We’re not going with you. Leave us alone.’ I sound like a whiny five-year-old, but I’m not giving up. ‘Mum, you stay where you are.’ Mum says nothing but I can see her shaking
from where I am standing. She won’t be able to stop him if he tries to drag her to his car. What can I do? What can I do?

‘If you don’t go away, I’ll call the cops.’ I know that won’t work but I have to say something.

‘I doubt that the police around here bother with little family tiffs,’ he says. ‘They’d only come out for murders.’

He’s so damn sure of himself, so calm. He knows he’s got the power to do anything he wants and no one will stop him. Well, this time he’s got it all wrong.

I walk around the car and move up close to him. I have to look up to face him squarely but I do it, planting my feet solidly on the ground, bracing myself.

‘You don’t understand. We are not coming with you. We are staying here. We are never going to live with you, or anywhere near you, ever again.’ It’s like a litany, a chant, a song that rolls out of me. ‘We hate you. We
wouldn’t live with you if you were the last person on earth. Go away, you rotten, mean, horrible man.’

His eyes flicker and for one moment, I think I’ve won, that my words have actually had some impact. Then he says, ‘You will both do exactly as I say. Or you will be sorry.
Very
sorry.’

‘Didn’t you hear what she said? She told you to piss off.’

It’s Dobie! She won’t be able to help, no one can help us now, but it’s so good to hear her voice!

‘Go away, whoever you are. This is none of your business,’ Dad snaps.

‘It is my business. These are my friends and they don’t want you around.’

‘If you interfere, you will be sorry too, I can guarantee that.’ Dad’s voice has turned low and nasty, and that old crawling spider feeling runs up my neck.

Dobie walks around to where we’re standing and hands Midnight and my notebook to Mum. ‘What are you going to do?’ she says. ‘Beat up all of us at once?’

‘I told you, kid. Mind your own business. Take your smelly cat and get lost.’ He tries to reach into the car and grab Midnight. I knock his hand aside and he bangs it on the window frame.

‘Don’t you touch him! He’s
my
cat.’

‘Don’t you tell me what to do, miss,’ he snarls. He checks his hand for injury. ‘You need to learn some manners. Now, get your mother out of that car and let’s go.’

He grabs me by the arm and pulls me around, trying to open Mum’s door at the same time. I stagger sideways and hit my elbow on the car. Pain shoots up my arm, but even faster the red haze that I’ve tried so hard to control roars up in front of my eyes. I let it take over, and launch myself, screaming, at my father, punching and pounding with my fists, aiming mostly for his face.

‘You little –’ At first he tries to defend himself and push me off, but I’m too strong, I’m too angry, I’m going to kill him if I just get half a chance. I leap up with fingers gouging, going for his eyes. Suddenly I’m on the ground, winded, my head ringing. What happened, did he hit me?

I hear this yell and look up. It’s Dobie. She’s pushing him backwards, away from the car. No, don’t, Dobie. God, look at his face, no, he’s going to hurt you. Stop!

But it’s too late, he backhands her, sends her flying into the side of the car. She makes one funny crying sound and crumples down. Has he killed her? No, she’s still crying, at least I can hear that.

And I can hear something else too, someone else, talking. I try to get up and the world sways a bit. I feel sick, but I have to get up, I have to do something, I have to get Mum. I manage to stand up even though my head’s pounding. Who is that? Someone else is standing by the front of our car. Louie? No, it’s Bobby, with a mobile
phone. He was the one who was talking, into the phone. Now he’s talking again, to us, to Dad. I blink hard, try to focus.

‘The cops are on their way. Next street, in fact. So don’t try to make a run for it.’

Just as he says that, a cop car pulls up, lights flashing, and two cops jump out. Bobby seems to know them. He talks and points, Dad looks sick. Louie is nowhere in sight.

I bend down to Dobie. She’s hunched over her arm, her bad arm, whimpering. It’s the worst sound in the world. She tries to say something but I can’t hear her. I touch her shoulder but she shakes me off. She lifts her head, stares past me to the two cops.

‘You have to arrest him for assault,’ she says. Her voice is so clear and strong, tears well up in my eyes. ‘I’m pressing charges. Call my father.’

‘She… she fell,’ my father says. ‘It was an accident.’

I straighten up. ‘No, it wasn’t. You hit her, straight after you hit me. I’m pressing charges too.’

Now the tears are running down my face but I don’t care. They’re not weak tears, they’re tears of victory.