Authors: Joanna Sellick
Jay face
softens. ‘I’m sorry to hear that.’
‘Don’t
be,’ I shrug, looking out of the window. ‘I was too young to remember them.’
‘Still, it
can’t be easy,’ he frowns, leaning back in his chair.
I shrug
again. ‘Having Charlie is all I’ve ever known, so the way I see it, I can’t
miss something I never had, right? Besides, Charlie is great.’
Jay nods,
wrapped up in his own thoughts.
‘What
about you?’ I ask after a moment of silence passes over us. Jay blinks as if
just registering what I’ve said before becoming animated again.
‘Change of
scenery,’ Jay answers thoughtfully. ‘We just moved up from London. Plus we have
family down here.’
‘Wow,
London. That certainly makes a change from here, huh?’ I laugh.
‘Ah, it’s
not as great as you’d think, there are too many people. You can’t go anywhere
without getting knocked over,’ he muses.
‘Still, it
must be pretty amazing,’ I sigh in wonder. I have only been to London a few
times, once with Charlie to view the galleries and a couple of others on
various school trips.
‘Jay! I
know she’s pretty but leave the poor girl alone and do some work. The toilets
don’t clean themselves you know!’ Albert bellows from the counter, winking at
us.
‘Glamorous,’
I comment.
Jay gulps
down the last of his coffee and cringes. ‘He’s only joking, I don’t really
clean toilets.’ Then his face falls. ‘I hope.’
‘I’d
better be going anyway,’ I laugh. I have been there for at least two hours,
possibly more and my stomach is growling.
‘Wait,’
Jay suddenly says, picking up a spare napkin and jotting down something with
his pen. He hands it over to me and dashes off.
I look
down and smile. There is no message, just eleven digits signed with nothing
more than the letter ‘J.’
After leaving the shop I tucked the napkin
into my back pocket and started cycling home. The streets are quieter near my
house, so I don’t have to listen to the hustle and bustle of everyone else but
I put my music on anyway. I hate silence.
The winter has drawn in quickly, so
although it’s only around seven-ish, darkness has descended, the only source of
light reflecting off the pale moon or flickering from the dodgy street-lamps.
Caught up in my own thoughts, picturing the
sketch of Jay residing in my backpack and wondering how to finish it off, I
don’t notice when someone clutches the front of my bike, causing me to come to
definitive stop.
I yelp as I’m pushed forward by the force
of it and raise my eyes to meet Martin Barricks; sixth-form drop out and
general arsehole.
‘Evening, Nevie-Evie,’ Martin coos shoving
the front of my bike. He has his haul of usual goons with him, sniggering away
behind him. Martin is tall, at least six foot with a, lets say, rather large
structure. His breath stinks of cigarettes and alcohol.
He seems to be drunk and I wrinkle my nose
in disgust when he breathes in my face. I mean seriously, who gets drunk at
seven o’clock on a Thursday evening?
‘Get out of my way,’ I say firmly, gripping
the handles tightly. The boys all hoot at my defiance.
Someone hooks their arms under my armpits
and yanks me off of my bike, dropping me to the floor. I grit my teeth against
the pain, clutching my right hand that has just collided with the pavement,
certain I have just lost a layer of skin.
‘I don’t think I like your attitude,’
Martin slurs, a beer can in his hand.
‘Hey Marty, I could do with a new bike,’
his friend Ben jeers, patting the handlebars victoriously.
‘Get the hell away from that!’ I shout,
pulling myself up and striding towards them. Martin laughs, squeezing the beer
can and tossing it to one side before clicking his knuckles. Ben discards my
bike, sending it clattering down to the ground as he and the rest of the boys
huddle around Martin.
‘Oh yeah? And how do you propose on making
us do that?’ he sniggers. ‘Where’s that back-up boy of yours… what was his name
again?’ he saunters, tapping his brain exaggeratedly, deliberating dragging out
this game.
‘Alex wasn’t it?’ Ben adds unhelpfully.
My heart clenches so tightly it hurts.
The group continue to descend on me and I
take a step back, fear beginning to squeeze at my throat as if I’m not already
choking on
that
name.
‘Oh yeah, Alex. That’s right,’ Marty
smirks, folding his arms. ‘What happened to your friend, Alex?’
I take another step back, digging my nails
into the palms of my hands in order to hiding their shaking. I feel my eyes
begin to heat up as tears begin to well and I pray for them not to spill. I
just can’t start crying in front of him.
Martin knows exactly what happened to Alex.
Everyone does.
‘Oh, wait. He died!’ Marty comically slaps
his forehead and the other boys all burst into identical, cruel laughs.
The burning in my chest increases and I
can’t help it as a tear escapes my eye. I tremble backwards, almost tripping
but regaining my balance quickly. I try to take deep breaths but they come out
shaky, as if my breathing has been cut off.
‘Yo, Marty. Lay off, mate,’ one of the boys
in the back reasons.
No one speaks out loud about Alex,
especially to me. People actually respected Alex, which is why so few people
ever brought it up in front of me; they didn’t want to talk shit about a dead
guy they actually liked. Obviously Martin isn’t one of those people.
‘Shut up,’ Martin snaps to the boy, who
obliges. Then he turns back to me and notices the few tears that were staining
my cheeks. ‘Look at this, boys, Nevie-Evie is crying. Why don’t you go run back
to your Mummy? Oh wait…’ he snickers, fist-bumping Ben.
‘Alright boys, leave the girl alone.’ An
unfamiliar voice pierces through the deafly silence. I don’t turn to look at
the stranger, I’m too dumbstruck to do anything but keep my eyes locked on
Martin.
‘Yeah, or what?’ Martin challenges,
readying himself for a fight.
‘Or you might not like what’s coming,’ the
stranger answers darkly.
Ben’s face suddenly pales. ‘Dude, that’s
Blake Ellsworth. I don’t want no trouble, man.’
‘So what? I ain’t scared of some prissy
boy,’ Martin shrugs.
‘Whatever, I ain’t getting involved,’ Ben
announces, putting his hands up in surrender and backing off. ‘I’m outta here.’
Some of the other boys mumble noises of
agreement until Martin decides that suddenly he isn’t as tough without his back
up. Instead, Martin swears and stalks off, slapping Ben over the head as they
go.
I stand there in shock, staring after the
boy’s disappearing shadows.
A hand rests on my shoulder and I jump.
‘Are you okay?’ the stranger asks, his eyes
filled with obvious concern. I shrink out of his touch and look around dumbly.
‘I err… I’m fine,’ I say in a rush, raking
a shaking hand through my hair. I walk away from him and stumble to pick up my
bike.
‘You don’t look it,’ the boy argues,
jumping in front of me. I fumble to remember the name Ben had mentioned.
‘Look… Blake… Thank you for what you did,
but I’m honestly fine. I just want to go home now,’ I try, plastering a smile
on my face, pushing past him.
Blake lets me past but doesn’t seem happy
about it. ‘Want me to walk you home?’
‘No!’ I shout over my shoulder, keeping my
eyes in front of me.
‘And you’ll go straight home?’
‘Yes!’ I mutter, darting around the corner
before he can reply.
I carry on around the corner and power
walk, pulling my bike alongside me a few more streets until I drop my bike and
fall to the ground, crawling across to the curb and drawing my knees up.
Then for some strange reason, I pull out
the crumpled napkin and punch the number into my phone. The dialling sound
rings twice and for a moment I think he isn’t going to pick up before Jay’s
voice sounds through the speaker.
‘Hey, Jay. Its Neve,’ I sniff, trying to
keep my voice steady and natural sounding.
‘Hey, Red,’ he replies happily before
noting the odd pitch to my voice. So much for keeping it natural sounding. ‘Are
you okay?’
‘Can you meet me, please?’ I ask in a rush,
biting my lip nervously. ‘I… need someone…’
‘I’ll be right there, I’ve just finished
work. Where are you? I’ll come and get you.’
An odd relief passes through me and I look
around for any sort of landmark. ‘Andrew Street, opposite
Mr. Chips
.’
‘Okay, I know where that is. Hold on till I
get there, ‘kay?’
I nod and hang up before dropping my phone
down next to me and bursting into tears, crying heavily into my knees.
Everything inside me feels like jelly. Burning
jelly. I have just been torn apart all over again. I miss Alex so, so much. God
I miss him.
I keep my nails pressed against my palms,
the familiar gesture calming me until all my emotions are nothing but numbness.
Distantly I hear a car pull up on the other side of the street.
‘Neve?’ I hear Jay call, looking up as he
rushes over and crouches beside me. If my voice on the phone or the disorderly
state of me sitting on the curb hadn’t given anything away, then something in
my face tells him that things are certainly not alright.
Wordlessly, he pulls me into a hug and I
start crying helplessly on his shoulder. He strokes my hair and rocks me
slightly, whispering calming things in my ear that I hardly hear. I’m just
crying into this stranger’s shoulder and it doesn’t feel wrong. It feels safe.
When I’ve pulled myself together enough, I
pull away and wipe the tears away from my eyes.
‘Sorry,’ I apologise, my voice sounding wet
after the crying. ‘You must think I’m such a state, crying on the curb like
this.’ I try to laugh but it just ends up sounding as fake as Katie Price’s
boobs.
‘Not at all,’ Jay says softly. Then he
catches my hand, noticing its grazed state. The blood has dried at least. ‘What
happened?’ he asks, his expression darkening.
I carefully pull my hand away and clasp it
together with my other hand, running my fingers over each other nervously.
‘I ran into some boys that used to go to
our school. They stopped my bike and pulled me off it, started taunting me,’ I
shrug. I sneak at glance at Jay who is waiting patiently, as if he knows that
isn’t the whole story.
Quietly, I debate with myself whether to
tell him about Alex. But then I decide that he’ll find out anyway, the whole
year knows. If it came from me then maybe there would less chance of me losing
him, because even though we have only just met, fear of losing the only person
who has talked to me properly, treated me nicely in months, is making a nest in
the pit of my stomach.
‘I had this friend,’ I start quietly. I
have never had to explain this to anyone before; other people have always done
the explaining for me. ‘I had this friend called Alex. He died a few months
ago. That’s what the boys were taunting me about.’
Jay looks away and then down at the ground,
his throat working. ‘What happened?’
I bite my lip and look at the ground too.
‘I got myself meddled in with something I shouldn’t have. Alex found out what
had happened and went to do something about it. That same night, he was
murdered. The police found him the next day lying in the middle of some street.
He’d taken a blow to the head. And it was my fault, if I hadn’t gotten
involved…’ I trail off, my eyes welling up again. That was the truth… vaguely.
Jay didn’t need to know the absolute truth, every detail leading up to what
happened. And with what I’d just told him, Jay will never speak to me again
anyway.
I cast another glance at Jay but he is just
staring ahead, trying to process everything I’ve just told him. I dig my nails
into my palms again and close my eyes.
Then finally, he speaks.
‘Neve, can I ask you something?’
My mind swims with possible questions;
why didn’t you save him? Why did you let it
happen? Why did you get him involved?
Bile starts to form at the back of my
throat as panic rises in the form of vomit that this is it, he would ask one
last question and then be out of here. Too scared to speak, I clamp my lips
shut and just nod.
‘What were you really doing on the bridge
the other night? The night we first met?’
The question startles me and I turn around
to face him, as he is watching me, and scrutinise his expression. Does he just
want juicy details that he can spread around school?
My gut tells me no. So does his expression.
It isn’t one of eager anticipation to hear
the latest gossip. It isn’t one of sympathy either, the sort that read ‘
oh that poor girl, lets just lock her away
so she doesn’t hurt her poor little self
’. It’s a look that almost says
he’s scared for me, scared of what I could have done. It’s genuine concern.
Instead of answering, I stand up.
‘I have something I want to show you.’ I
grab my bike and start wheeling it over to his car, waiting patiently until he
stands up too. Jay takes the bike and puts it in the boot of the Ford without
another word. I murmur directions and turns until we come to a small country
road out of town where I tell him to pull up.
Getting out, I begin trekking up the back
of a huge hill, not needing to look behind me in order to know that Jay is
right there. As we reach the top of the hill the view of our little town
emerges, but it looks fairly small from up here. Darkness surrounds the place
but the lights of the houses and various buildings light the view up like
thousands of little fireflies.
It’s calm, peaceful up here and feels safe.
It reminds me of Alex.
I lie down in the grass, waiting for Jay to
do the same.
‘Me and Alex used to come up here all the
time,’ I say quietly, wrapping my arms around me against the winter chill. Now
I come up here on very rare occasions to think if I can’t clear my mind
sketching.
‘It’s beautiful,’ Jay says, looking up at
the starry sky above us. I nod, taking a deep breath.
‘The truth is I don’t know why I was on
that bridge that night. One minute I was visiting Alex’s grave and the next I
was being pulled down by this complete stranger. That hurt by the way.’ I smile
slightly and look sideways at him. ‘But the truth is I don’t know if we would
be having this conversation if you hadn’t stopped me. So… thanks.’
He smiles back and looks back up at the sky
again, silence falling over us.
‘Your friend Alex, was his murderer ever
caught?’ Jay asks absently.