Seven Days (16 page)

“It’s just me and my dad,” he says, by way of explanation.

“I didn’t realize,” I say. “Is your mum away?”

The
away
hangs between us, a stupid thing to say. He frowns at me. “No. She left when I was a baby. I don’t know where she is.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know.”

“You didn’t ask,” he says flatly.

Yeah, well, you don’t ask stuff about me either…

I stare at him. This is awkward. He’s just standing there, arms folded. He’s not offering me a drink, asking me anything. He doesn’t want me here, it’s obvious.

“I heard about you this afternoon,” he says suddenly.

“What? What did you hear?”

“I heard you slapped Jess. Had a go at her for nothing. Was pretty nasty actually.”

“Who told you?” I hiss. I can imagine Jess straight on the phone to him, bleating away, begging him to sort it all out for her.

“It doesn’t matter.” He sighs. “But to be honest I’m not interested in this. I don’t want some jealous girlfriend beating up people I’m friendly with. I don’t want to be with someone so … well, so vicious.”

“You shouldn’t be friendly with the likes of her.”

His eyes spark. “I shouldn’t what? Are you telling me what I can and can’t do now?”

“No! I’m just saying; she’s a complete loser.”

Lyn laughs. It’s a soft, unforgiving laugh. I’ve heard it before, from another man. I think part of me is dying.

“The only loser is you, Kez; take a look in the mirror sometime. I think you should go. I really don’t want to see you right now.”

“Are you saying…?”

“I’m saying I don’t want to be with you any more. I’m sorry, Kez. I just think it’s better this way.”

Then he turns and walks away from me.

I leave with tears of anger streaming down my face. A fire rages inside me, burning.

This is not over.

I will not let her win.

Kez Walker: Let the fun and games begin…

58 minutes ago.

Marnie: Lol. Someone is sooooo wound up right now. Just glad ur with me babe!

Lois: U OK?

Kez: NO!! But I will be

Marnie: We are plotting – heeee heeee

Kez: STIG ATTACK!

Lois: Oh I see

Hannah: Hasnt this gone on 2 long?

Marnie: Butt out Hannah

Hannah: I’m only saying

Kez: Yeah, well you don’t know all the facts. You will soon

Hannah: I know most of the facts. It was me that told Lyn about today btw

Kez: Big mistake Hannah

Hannah: Whatever. This is getting boring

Marnie: Far from it. Things are going to get v. interestin

So I’m not going tonight, that’s that decided. I’ve just texted Hannah to tell her, as she was going to walk over with me. It’s safer to stay away. I can’t face Kez on a normal day, let alone when she’s even more wound up. Even the thought of those ice-cold eyes are enough to send me into a panic.

“Why do you look so sad again?” Hollie asks me, as we walk over to the park. We usually spend Saturday mornings there, it gives Mum a chance to get some rest. At least today is a bit brighter. Hollie is kicking at every bit of litter she sees. She loves jumping on drink cans and hearing the metallic crunching sound they make. Sometimes a dribble of liquid will splash out, leaving sticky puddles.

“I’m not sad,” I lie. Every step is heavy. I wonder if other people are looking at me and seeing a fat girl. A huge, disgusting girl. I’ve put on my biggest coat, the one that completely swamps me. Mum hates it, says I look like an old granny in it. But it has no shape, so it suits me.

“I heard you crying in bed,” Hollie says, picking up a dry old leaf and handing it to me. “Look, this is the shape of a triangle.”

“Sometimes I find things hard. But everyone cries, Hollie, even you.”

“I cry when I hurt myself and when Ben Langdon took my favourite pencil. He’s the nastiest boy in my class.”

“I have a nasty person in school too. She’s not very nice to me,” I say. I scrunch up the leaf without thinking and throw it on the ground.

“You should tell a teacher. They’ll take her pencil away,” Hollie says, nodding softly to herself like she’s just solved all of my problems. I ruffle her hair; it’s like fine cotton under my fingers.

I smile at her, wondering what I’d do without her. My sunshine.

“You should tell Mum. Mum makes things better.”

“Maybe, Hollie. Maybe that’s what I should do.”

Hollie skips ahead, happy that she’s sorted me out. I watch as she runs through the gate, straight over to the swings where she always goes. She’d stay on them all day if she could – rocking back and forth. I try and ignore the bench where I sat with Lyn. I wonder for a brief second how his dad is. I hope everything is OK; he seemed so worried. I feel a tug inside and wish I could be with Lyn again.

But even if he liked me, he’d soon go off me if he saw Kez laying into me. Telling everyone the truth, about what a freak I really am.

No one could fancy me.

I hover by the fence, leaning against the splintered wood. In my pocket is the number, scribbled on a torn bit of newspaper. Mum scrawled it down this morning, pressed it into my hand and begged me not to raise my hopes. My fingers dip in now and reach for the folded edge. I draw it out. The digits that could bring me in contact with Dad again. Would he be pleased to hear from me? Three years of no contact; surely he must have missed us a bit?

Hollie is waving to me as I punch out the number on my phone. I do it carefully; I don’t want to screw this up. I wave back at her while pressing the mobile against my ear, listening to the hopeful, but almost jeering sound of the dial tone.

“Hello?”

It’s not him. A woman. I catch my breath. “Hello. Is, er, Eric there?”

“Eric? Who’s this?” Her voice is gruff. Unfriendly. Like a dog on a lead barking at me.

“Jessica.”

“WHO?”

“Jessica. His daughter.”

“His what? Oh …
yeah
. Hang on.”

It’s the way she says “yeah”, like I’m something they’ve talked about, joked about maybe. Does she see me as something tragic? “
Oh yeah, that thing! You know the one.”
I’m pressing the phone harder against my ear now – it’s actually hurting – but I’m listening, trying to make out muttered words in the background. Can I hear talking? There sounds like something, the rise and fall of voices. Are they talking about me?

“Jess?”

It’s him. The voice hasn’t changed. Deep, throaty, like he needs to cough.

“Dad. It’s me. I hope you don’t mind, but…”

“Er, this is not a good time.”

“I’m sorry, but…”

“You can’t just ring up like this. That’s not how it should be. It makes it so awkward.” His voice is small now, almost a whisper.

My mouth is open. I don’t know what to say. Hollie is still laughing on the swings, her little legs kicking wildly in the air.

“I’ll call you back sometime, yeah?” he says. He sounds so far away. I guess he always was, really.

“When will that be?” I whisper.

“I dunno. Things are tough at the moment. But I’ll ring you, yeah?”

I take the phone away from my ear. Press the red button.

Bye, Dad.

No more Dad. I don’t need him in my life. I guess I never did. The glitter fairy alarm clock is now upside down in the rubbish bin, where it belongs. A pile of used teabags sits on top of it now, bleeding dark juice on to the worn plastic.

Mum is sitting at the table, looking at the job pages. “What’s that you’ve just thrown away?”

“My alarm clock. It’s broken.”

“Oh.” A brief pause. “
He
got you that, didn’t he?”

“Yeah. So?”

She is studying me, a small frown on her face; then she goes back to the paper. “There’s nothing in here – never is. I could apply for this cleaning job, I suppose, at least it would be day work. I wouldn’t be so tired all the time, would I? But the money is a little less…”

I nod, keeping busy making tea. Opening the cupboards I notice that we have some more stuff in, including cereal. At least this means Mum has been paid. Maybe we could manage. Anything would be better than seeing Mum tired all the time.

“I take it the conversation didn’t go well,” Mum says, still looking like she’s reading.

“He’s an idiot.” I slam the milk carton on the counter; a small amount spills over the top and down the side. I curse under my breath. “I don’t want anything to do with him.”

“He’s weak. He’s never been any good at supporting other people,” she sighs. “He’s not a bad person though, just a stupid coward.”

“If you say so, but it seems to me he’s got a new family now.” I am trying to find a clean cloth to wipe the spilt milk with, but of course there’s nothing. The damp thing in the sink looks like it’s breeding a life of its own.

“A new family?” Mum is looking at me again, puzzled. “Really?”

“I saw his girlfriend outside their house with a baby carrier. There was a nice car outside too,” I say. I don’t tell her why I was hanging outside their place like some kind of sad weirdo. “I just happened to be passing the other day.”

“Well, that’s interesting,” Mum seems to be drifting off. “I think I need to make some calls of my own, Jess.”

She gets up to leave, her face pinched, the paper still clasped in her hand. “Anyway, shouldn’t you be getting ready now? Time’s ticking on?” She gestures at the clock.

“I’m not going now,” I tell her. “I don’t feel like it.”

“Oh for God’s sake, don’t tell me you’re wimping out now?” She points the paper at me accusingly; it’s like a huge extended finger. “Hell, Jess, when are you going to grow a backbone? When are you going to start fighting back?”

She walks out, slamming the door behind her; it makes the clock on the wall shake and almost fall off. I glance at the time. She’s right; if I was going I’d be getting ready. The party will be starting in just over half an hour. Twenty past eight makes the clock look like a sad face.

As the minute hand stutters forward, the doorbell goes – shrill and unannounced. Mum yells at me to answer it. We’re not expecting anyone, so my stomach drops. It’s bound to be someone selling something and I hate having to tell them to go away. Mum says I’m too soft, but I hate seeing their disappointment.

As soon as I open the door, the words hit me – bright and loud.

“You are coming tonight. You have no choice in the matter.”