The Art of Being Normal (24 page)

We wake up at dawn and creep out of Sea View before breakfast.

David travels back in his boy clothes.

‘You still gonna tell them today?’ I ask.

After two days as Kate, he looks strange back in a baggy hoodie and skinny jeans, with his boy’s haircut.

‘Yes,’ David replies firmly.

He looks petrified though.

We don’t talk much for the rest of the journey. I think we’ve said enough the past few days to last us a lifetime.

We say goodbye at the station, outside the taxi rank.

‘Will I see you at school tomorrow?’ David asks.

‘I don’t know yet,’ I admit.

‘You’ll be old news by now, I bet,’ he says brightly.

‘Sure,’ I say, rolling my eyes, not believing it for one second.

‘All we need is for someone to release a sex tape to take the heat off and we’re home and dry,’ he adds with a grin.

I fake a smile.

David looks at his feet for a moment. The laces of his Converse are too long and drag on the pavement.

‘Stupid jokes aside, I really hope you do come back.’

‘Yeah, well, we’ll see.’

David nods and adjusts his scarf.

‘Well, bye, I suppose,’ I say.

I turn to go and David grabs hold of my hand and pulls me into a hug. I find myself returning it. We break apart and nod at each other before going our separate ways. And it’s weird, because as I head across the street and towards the bus stop, I sort of miss him.

As I cross the estate, the whole place seems changed somehow in a way I can’t quite put my finger on. I’ve been away just over forty-eight hours but it seems longer. I feel different too; raw, like I’ve had a layer of skin ripped off and underneath is all red and delicate and painful to the touch.

It’s past noon, but I expect everyone will be in bed. Apart from Tia maybe, who still rises at dawn like a newborn, and will have been glued to the telly for hours by now.

I’m digging about in the bottom of my bag for my keys when the door flies open and Tia flings her tiny body at me.

‘He’s back!’ she screams. ‘Leo’s back!’

‘Steady on, Tia,’ I say. ‘Let me get in the bloody house at least.’

I’m kicking off my trainers when I notice a figure in the doorway to the lounge. At first I think it’s Mam. It takes me a moment to realise it’s Auntie Kerry, puffing furiously on a cigarette and glaring at me.

‘What are you doing here?’ I ask, disentangling myself from Tia, who still has her skinny little arms round my waist. There’s a wet patch on my hoodie from her tears.

‘Tia, go upstairs,’ Kerry says.

‘But I want to watch cartoons with Leo,’ Tia protests, lacing her fingers through mine.

‘I said upstairs!’ Kerry shouts, setting Tia’s lower lip wobbling.

‘Go on, T,’ I say.

Tia nods and heads up the stairs, her head bowed.

‘Give your mam and Spike a call,’ Kerry calls after her, ‘and your big sister. Tell them they can come home now.’

She turns and walks into the living room. I can tell she expects me to follow. She waits until we’re in the centre of the room before spinning round and slapping me across the cheek. It shocks more than it hurts.

‘Where the hell have you been?’ she barks.

‘What the hell was that for?’ I cry, holding on to my cheek.

‘Answer the bloody question, Leo, before I really do lose my patience.’

‘Away,’ I mutter.

‘Away? What d’you mean, away? Away bloody where?’

‘Why the drama?’ I ask, ‘I left a note.’

‘What note? No one’s seen a note.’

‘I left it on top of the telly,’ I say, crossing over to the television set. But the spot where I left my note is bare. I hunt around, eventually finding it down the back of the set, tucked under the radiator. I fish it out and hand it to Kerry. She doesn’t bother to read it, flinging it onto the coffee table instead.

‘That’s it? You go gallivanting off for two whole bloody days and all we get is a sodding note?’

‘I thought someone would see it,’ I mutter.

‘Do you know where your mam and Spike are right now?’ she
asks, jabbing a finger in my chest. ‘Where they’ve been for the past two nights?’

I shake my head.

‘Driving around looking for you, that’s where. Tia’s been in tears since yesterday morning, Amber and Carl have been all over the estate searching for you. The police, well they’ve been no help at all.’

‘The police? What did you call them for?’

‘What did you expect us to do? We had no bloody idea where you were. Your phone was off.’

‘I forgot my charger,’ I say, looking at my feet.

Kerry just glares at me.

‘I didn’t think Mam would care,’ I say. ‘I didn’t even think she’d notice.’

Kerry’s face turns a fresh shade of red.

‘Your mam may not be winning any prizes for the world’s best mother any time soon, but I would think very carefully before accusing her of not noticing her own kid is missing.’

‘She seems to do a pretty good job of not noticing me when I am around, so what am I supposed to think?’ I retort.

‘Raising three kids alone isn’t a walk in the park, you know.’

‘It’s not our fault she can’t hold on to a bloke.’

Kerry slaps me again. Hard. This time it hurts.

‘You have no idea, Leo,’ she says, pointing a shaking finger right up in my face. ‘Until you’ve walked in your mam’s shoes, you will have no bloody idea what her life has been like, bringing up the three of you alone, so don’t you even pretend you do.’

I slump down on the settee, my arms folded. In front of me Kerry fumbles in the pocket of her jeans for a packet of cigarettes. She
takes one out and swipes a plastic pink lighter from the coffee table, lighting up with still-trembling hands. She does the whole thing without taking her eyes off me for a second.

‘Leo, remember that weekend when your mam came home with a black eye?’

I frown.

‘It was just after all that bother at school,’ she prompts.

All that bother. Whenever anyone talks about what happened back in February, they always seem to speak in some weird code.

‘Yeah,’ I say, ‘what about it?’

‘What was his name again? The ringleader?’ Kerry asks.

‘Alex Bonner,’ I murmur, my voice flat. Just saying his name out loud makes me feel dizzy and sick.

‘That’s him, nasty little beggar. Your mam went to have it out with Alex but he wasn’t in. His mam was though, giving a load of lip.’

‘What?’

I know Alex’s mother, everyone does. She’s one of those people on the estate you just can’t miss. Annette, her name is. She looks just like Alex, with the same jet-black hair, hard face, and terminator build.

‘Hang on, Annette Bonner gave Mam that black eye?’

‘You should have seen Annette. She was in a right state once your mam had finished with her. People had to drag your mam off her in the end.’

I stare at Kerry. I can’t believe what I’m hearing. Mam went up against Annette Bonner for me?

‘Why didn’t she tell me?’ I ask.

‘God knows. God knows why your mam does a lot of the stuff she does.’

Silence. I can sense Kerry watching me as she smokes.

‘Come on then, where were you?’ she says, taking a deep breath and folding her arms. Like Mam, she’s tiny, built like a sparrow. Which makes it all the more incredible Mam beat up big old Annette Bonner. Jesus.

‘Come on, don’t keep me in bloody suspense,’ Kerry says, taking another long drag on her cigarette, the smoke misting the air between us. ‘Where have you been?’

‘You really want to know?’ I ask.

‘Yes, I do.’

I take a deep breath.

‘I was in Kent.’

Kerry’s forehead creases in confusion.

‘Kent? But that’s bloody miles away. What the hell’s in Kent?’

I take out my wallet and slide out the photograph of Dad. She takes it between her fingers, her eyes bulging. She looks down at me.

‘Where’d you get this, Leo?’

‘Does it matter?’

‘Where did you get this, Leo?’ she repeats.

‘Mam’s bedroom. I’ve had it for years.’

‘We turned the house upside down looking for this,’ she says softly. ‘Your mam ended up thinking she must have thrown it out by accident.’

I look up. I always assumed Mam never missed it. She certainly never said anything about it.

‘That was his first car,’ Kerry says, her fingers tracing its outline.

‘Drives a brand new Volvo these days. Midnight blue. Very smart,’ I say.

Kerry’s head snaps up.

‘You saw him?’

‘Oh yeah. We had a great chat, me and old Jimmy,’ I say with a bitter laugh.

She just stares at me, her mouth hanging open slightly.

‘Didn’t like me turning up on his doorstep very much,’ I say. ‘Didn’t like it at all in fact. You probably knew as much though, didn’t you?’

Kerry sinks on to the settee beside me, the photograph fluttering to the floor.

‘How did he look?’ she asks.

‘Like this I suppose, but older,’ I say, leaning forward to pick up the photograph.

‘Me and Amber got his eyes,’ I add.

‘I know you did,’ Kerry says.

‘He’s got a wife and kids of his own now,’ I say. ‘Posh house and that.’

‘Has he now?’ she murmurs, her face white. It’s not a proper question though.

‘Didn’t want to know, of course. Called me a freak.’

‘Oh, Leo.’

I crumple up the photograph in my hand and let it drop. I don’t cry though. I’m not planning on wasting any more tears on Jonathan Denton.

‘What happened, Kerry? Why did he leave?’

‘You mean, what did your mam do to make him leave?’ she snaps. ‘I know that’s what you’re thinking, Leo.’

I look down at my feet. Because she’s right, that’s exactly what I was thinking.

‘Me and your mam are well aware that you’ve always had her down as the bad guy and your dad as the hero,’ Kerry continues. ‘We may not have done well at school and passed many exams, but we know that much.’

She picks up her fag again. It’s burned down to nothing. She tuts to herself and lights another.

‘Then tell me the truth,’ I say.

She raises her eyebrows.

‘The truth, eh? You want the truth?’

I nod.

‘You sure?’

‘For God’s sake, Kerry.’

She takes a deep drag on her cigarette and lets her eyes fall shut as she exhales. Her eyelids are waxy and shiny. She opens them again.

‘Your mam met Jimmy when she was twenty-one. He was twenty-three and drop-dead gorgeous. All the girls in Cloverdale fancied him, but he chose your mam. Anyway, they’d been going out for six months when she found out she was pregnant with twins. And at first Jimmy was all excited, telling everyone he met. He even proposed, brought her home this flashy ring. Everyone on the estate was green with envy, including me a bit.’

‘So then what happened?’

‘He started getting distant, staying out late. Your mam just put it down to him being a bit stressed about money being tight. Anyway, one day, about six weeks before she was going to pop, your mam got home from doing the food shopping and found a note on the coffee table.’

I glance at my note, nestled among the ashtrays and mugs.

‘We thought it was a joke at first,’ Kerry continues. ‘But then we went upstairs and all his clothes were gone from the wardrobe and he wasn’t answering his phone. I assumed he’d just got cold feet and would come back, but he never did. Your mam never heard from him again.’

‘But that can’t be right. I remember him. I remember him changing my nappy,’ I say.

Kerry shakes her head.

‘You can’t, Leo. He was gone over a month before you were born.’

I squeeze my eyes shut and try to conjure up the image in my head, of Dad singing as he bent over me.

‘It must be my ex, Chris, that you remember. He helped out quite a bit when you and Amber were little. Or your granddad maybe, before he died.’

I shake my head firmly.

‘No, I’m certain it was him, Kerry, I can picture his face.’

But already it’s fading, his features growing hazier by the second.

Kerry puts down her cigarette and takes my hand, looking right into my eyes. Her fingers are rough and freezing cold.

‘It wasn’t him, Leo. Trust me, it wasn’t.’

I stare hard at the carpet, so hard my vision blurs.

‘Why didn’t she just tell us?’

‘What, tell a couple of little kids their dad buggered off before they were even born? Easier said than done, Leo.’

‘Better that than not telling us anything at all.’

‘Your gran told your mam to tell you and Amber he was dead, but she couldn’t bring herself to do it. And anyway, as soon as you
could talk you were obsessed with the idea of him. It was easier to let you dream, easier for your mam to be the villain who drove him away.’

‘Did she love him?’ I ask.

She sighs and shakes her head.

‘She really did, the fool that she is.’

I stare at the carpet.

‘I always assumed she’d driven him away, like she did all the rest.’

‘No, Leo.’

‘That’s why she does it though,’ I murmur.

‘Does what?’

I look up. Because it all makes weird, messed-up sense now.

‘Pushes them away. So they won’t leave her like Jimmy did.’

Not Dad. Not any more. Jimmy.

Kerry lets out a heavy sigh.

‘You and your mam have let that man haunt you for too long now. It’s time to move on, Leo, for both of you.’