We Can Be Heroes (26 page)

‘Is that why your dad likes it then?' asks Priti.

‘What you trying to say?'

‘I'm just wondering if he ever hit your mum,' Priti shrugs. ‘Maybe that's why she left him?'

‘Don't be soft. My dad never did anything to her.'

‘Which is exactly what you would say,' says Priti.

‘You don't get it, do you?' says Jed, his face red, just like his dad's when he was shouting at Priti. ‘My mum is the evil cow, not my dad.'

‘If you say so,' says Priti.

‘I do,' says Jed. ‘So just shut up, all right.'

Priti just grins and that makes Jed all the more angry, but he doesn't say anything after that and neither does
Priti. We all sit and watch in silence as bikers hang off the climbing frame and try to do headstands on the swings. They look like big overgrown kids or monkeys – far less frightening mucking around off their bikes than on them.

‘Do you reckon they really did knife that boy?' I ask after a bit.

‘Probably,' says Priti. ‘Tyreese hates Asians.'

‘So does my dad, but he doesn't go around stabbing them, does he?' Jed says. ‘But then he doesn't go round
doing
them either!'

‘No, it's just you who wants to do that!' Priti retorts.

‘I don't want to
do
any Paki,' says Jed.

‘Yeah, you do. You want to do my sister. Don't try to deny it – it's obvious.' Then Priti starts to do an impression of Jed. ‘Can I have a kiss, Zara? I'll keep quiet if you let me, Zara.' She flops her head around just like Jed does. Jed looks as if he might explode.

Fortunately, he doesn't get a chance to because just then a gang of kids come running along the alleyway below, shouting and screaming as they emerge into
the park. Young kids from the wedding, playing a game of tag. Little Stevie is with them, running at the back, her arms outstretched like she's flying, a broad grin on her face.

‘Looks like that kid has finally found some friends,' says Priti.

‘What if their parents come looking for them?' I say. ‘We need to warn Zara.'

‘Good point,' says Priti, suddenly serious.

We all start scrambling down the tree and Priti sticks two fingers in her mouth and gives out a high-pitched whistle intended for Zara.

‘D'you reckon she heard that?' she asks. ‘Can't have the mosque gossips catch her snogging a racist thug on her brother's wedding day.'

‘D'you reckon that's what they're doing?' says Jed.

‘Whatever she's doing, we'd better go get her.'

But just then a couple of the little kids' mums appear, looking for their children.

The kids are running around the playground now, oblivious to the bikers, who for some reason don't seem to scare them. But the women in their saris are
scared and they hang back, calling to the children. The bikers start to shout and jeer at them, but the kids take no notice and keep running around.

Me and Jed and Priti jump down over the fence into the park, but we can't go running off to the woods without one of the women noticing, so we just stand there, watching, hoping Zara won't choose this particular moment to re-emerge.

Priti whistles again, twice this time. ‘I hope she knows that means “stay where you are”,' she says.

The mothers keep calling to the children, but they take no notice. Eventually, two of the women have to go into the playground to get them and the bikers crowd close to them, jostling and heckling, laughing loud like hyenas.

With the bikers following them, the women hurriedly round up the kids – all except Stevie whose mum is probably still drinking with Uncle Ian. Now the children are starting to look a bit frightened too. The bikers don't actually touch them, but they kick up dust and take turns in blocking their way out.

A bottle smashes and one of the children lets off a scream as glass shards fly.

‘We should go,' says Jed.

‘We can't. We promised Zara,' hisses Priti.

The women and children head for the exit, the bikers still following them. More flying glass as another bottle is thrown on to the tarmac path, right in front of the women. The glass shards explode like a bomb, narrowly missing the kids' faces. A third bottle shatters against the fence. The bikers laugh. A couple of the children have started crying.

One of women sees us and says something to Priti in Punjabi. She replies in English. ‘It's OK. My mum lets me come here!'

The woman says something else. Priti mutters something then raises an eyebrow at us. ‘OK, let's go,' she says.

‘But Zara . . .' I say, glancing in the direction of the trees.

‘We've got no choice,' says Priti. ‘They're going to tell Shakeel if we don't come.'

As the women crowd hastily into the alleyway, the
bikers fall back, laughing and whooping and throwing more bottles. We get dragged along with the kids and the mums and the last thing I see as I turn to leave is little Stevie. She's been left behind – I guess her mum and dad don't mind her being in the park, or at least they haven't come looking for her – and she's standing in the middle of the tarmac bit with her arms aloft spinning round and round and round. She hardly seems to have noticed the bikers at all.

‘Do you think we should get her to come with us?' I say.

Priti shrugs and Jed says, ‘Nah. She'll be OK. They won't bother with a white kid.'

Still, I feel a bit bad about leaving Stevie, but the bikers are jeering louder than ever, catcalling and smashing glass, and Priti is dragging us away.

As we head down the alleyway, I glance back and see little Stevie, still spinning windmills on the tarmac.

Uncle Ian is in the alleyway. He's arguing with someone – we can hear raised voices – but the mums and kids are pushing past him, so we can't see who it is
at first. It's only when we're nearly upon them that we see it's Auntie Karen.

She turns to look at us at about the same time we spot her.

‘Jed,' she says, stretching her arms out to him. ‘Baby!'

But the minute he sees her, Jed turns on his heels and runs back down the alley, in the direction of the park. Back towards the bikers.

‘Please, baby, come back!' shouts Auntie Karen. ‘Jed – darling. I just needed to see you!' Her eyes are red and puffy and her make-up is smudged like she's been crying. Uncle Ian grabs hold of her so she can't run after him. Me and Priti stand frozen to the spot, not sure what to do.

‘You see!' Uncle Ian is shouting at her. ‘He wants nothing to do with you. Stop stalking him.'

‘I only came to look at him, Ian.' She's turning to him now, pleading. Even with black streaks down her face she's still very pretty. ‘I need him to know that I still care, that I haven't given up on him even if he's given up on me.'

‘You're stalking him. That's what the police will say. Harassing him.'

‘I wasn't even going to talk to him. I was just going to stay here and watch. Ian, please. A son needs his mother.' She looks desperate, but not mad – I half expected her to seem crazy, but she doesn't. Just sad, that's all.

‘Not a mother like you.' Uncle Ian still has hold of her even though she's stopped struggling.

‘What did I ever do to him?' she asks. ‘I know I hurt you, but I never hurt him.'

He shoves her away when she says this – like she's spat on him or something. ‘Just get out of here before I call the police.'

‘And say what?' She's calmer now and it's Uncle Ian who looks mad. ‘That I turned up for a rendezvous with my son on the day specified by the court? That you are flouting a contact order? That you are indoctrinating our son? Emotional abuse they call it – in the US people have lost custody over it. I know what you're doing and soon the judges will too, and then you'll be the one begging
me
for contact.'

‘Just get out of here, you twisted old witch,' says Uncle Ian quietly, but with a dangerous look in his eye. ‘I'm going to find
my
son. If you're still here when I get back, I'll call the police.'

Then he pushes past her and goes off towards the park.

Me and Priti are left standing there with Auntie Karen, not knowing what to say or do.

After a moment, she says to us, ‘I'm sorry you had to hear that.'

‘It's OK, Auntie Karen,' I say.

‘I expect your mothers would fight to see you too,' she says with a little smile.

Just then Mik comes running down the alleyway, going in the direction of the park. He pushes past Auntie Karen and ignores me and Priti. He looks angry as hell.

‘Oh, boy!' says Priti. ‘We're really in trouble now. Come on, let's get out of here.'

She grabs my hand and drags me back in to the party. We leave Auntie Karen standing there, staring towards the park where Jed has gone.

* * *

Me and Priti sit under one of the tables, watching the entrance to the alleyway from under the long red and gold papery cloth and sipping at a can of cider that Priti's managed to swipe from Mrs Sanders. It's warm and I think it tastes pretty disgusting, only I don't say so.

It's ages before Jed reappears – without his dad – and he looks really upset. More upset than I've ever seen him in fact. More than the time in the pub, or when Auntie Karen was screaming outside Granny's house, or even when we went to see Granny Brenda.

Priti sticks her head out from under the table and whistles through her fingers. Jed clambers under the table then pulls the cloth right down like he doesn't want to be found and sits hunched up and shivering (although it's not even cold). When we ask him what's up, he says, ‘Nothing!'

‘Doesn't seem like nothing,' says Priti. ‘What happened?'

‘Nothing's happened,' says Jed.

‘Fine,' says Priti. ‘You don't have to tell us if you don't want to.'

‘There's nothing to tell.'

‘If you say so.'

We all take turns to swig on the cider and I start to feel sick. Jed stares at the alleyway, but Mik doesn't reappear and neither does Uncle Ian or Zara. Priti reckons Mik and Zara might have got back into the house over the garden fence. ‘Unless Mik caught Romeo and Juliet in the act, in which case –
hasta la vista
, Zara,' she says, grinning.

‘My dad had to go home,' Jed says after a bit.

‘Why didn't you say so?' asks Priti.

The mood of the party has changed and the Asian music has been replaced by English pop music. Some of the younger people are dancing while the older guests start to make their way home. Zara reappears from the house and starts dancing with a group of other Asian girls. She's got really bright lipstick and a new sari on – green and gold this time – and she has a big grin on her face like nothing is the matter, but she's wearing sunglasses, even though it's not sunny
any more. And there's still no sign of Mik.

I don't know what time it is that people start clearing up. I suppose it must be quite late because it's starting to get dark. We crawl out from our cider den. (I feel all dizzy and sick and the sky looks really bright somehow, although it's nearly night.) And then I hear Stevie's mum calling for her.

Mrs Sanders does that thing at first that always makes my granny tut and get cross when she hears women do it in the supermarket. She starts to scream at Stevie to stop messing around – ‘You little madam, where the bloody hell are you!' and, ‘You get back here now or I'll give you one!' – that sort of thing. I can see Granny blanching because she hates hearing adults yelling like that at children.

But after a while Mrs Sanders starts saying, ‘Where the hell is she?' and then, ‘Has anyone seen my daughter?' and she starts sounding really worried and soon people are looking everywhere for Stevie – and no one can find her.

‘She's probably fallen asleep somewhere,' says Granny and then someone suggests that she might
have climbed into a car or garage and got trapped there, so we check all those places. And all the time it's getting darker and Stevie is nowhere to be found.

Someone asks the three of us if we know where she could be. I say that she was in the park earlier, but Priti glares at me and says we haven't seen her and Jed doesn't say anything. So some men, including Grandad and Stevie's dad, go and check out the park and Grandad comes back moaning about smashed beer bottles and more graffiti, but says there's no sign of Stevie.

Granny is comforting Stevie's mum, who's crying big fat tears (they must taste of cider, I reckon) and even Stevie's dad, who's a big man, looks smaller and not so drunk any more and no one knows where else to look.

Then someone suggests calling the police (which makes Stevie's mum cry even more) and Granny tells me and Jed to go inside. She doesn't want anything happening to us, she says.

Suddenly I realise that something might have happened to Stevie. Up till now I'd thought she was
just hiding somewhere and had fallen asleep or got lost and she'd be found snoozing on a neighbour's sofa or something. I was too busy thinking about Zara and Mik and Tyreese, and what happened with Jed's mum and dad, so the idea that Stevie might be in some kind of danger hadn't crossed my mind. I think it had crossed Jed's though because he seems even more worried and upset than before.

Me and Jed go inside, but we keep watching from our window as the grown-ups keep looking in all the places they've already checked. And then the police turn up. Across the road we can see Priti and Zara watching from their window. Zara looks loads younger with her hair down and wearing her pyjamas. We wave and they wave back – even Zara. And it's hard to tell because of the light, but I could swear she's got a black eye.

Then Granny comes in and tells us to get into bed and I guess we fall asleep at some point because all night long I dream of Lil' Priti and Jed-eye and Ben-D trying to find a little girl who's gone missing. Only in my dream it's Blythe, not Stevie, who can't be found,
and at some point she turns into my mum and I'm looking all over for her, but I can't find her anywhere.