Apples (5 page)

Hiya, you coming out for a bit? Rachel asked. We’ve got drinks and that. Howay down the park.

Rachel nodded at the carrier then lifted out two big Bellabruscos. The other boys had a few bottles and all, and Debbie was clunking round a Tesco bag of spray-paint – it was a toss-up whether she was going to paint with it or huff it up. It did look like fun, but I rested a shoulder on the cream doorframe and said, I dunno. I’m meant to be babysitting.

Howay; it’ll be a laugh, Dan said, and I wondered why he wanted me out so much. I bared my teeth then popped back through to the lounge, letting them in. Laura was sat tickling Nicole on the floor like a Munchkin, and she flapped her eyelashes at me then asked, Who’s at the door?

It’s Rachel and Debbie and that, I said, feigning an innocent face. I whispered sweetly, Is it okay if you babysit Nicole while I go out? I’ll give you money and that.

God no way, Laura snarled. I was wanting an early night – she’s yours.

Come on, I snapped back, and we were like two crocodiles in bedtime clothes. I grabbed Nicole from the ground, then went, I’ll take her out with me then. It’s your fault if she freezes.

Fuck off, Laura said, and she wasn’t the swearing type. Mam’ll kill you.

I already had on Nicole’s peach Puffa coat and bobble hat, and we were out the door. I made sure I slammed it. I strapped Nicole in the fold-up buggy, then wheeled her onto the pavement while the boys stood there with high eyebrows. Me and Rachel charged off in our pyjamas.

Who’s that? Gary asked, referring to the baby. He was always dead slow and docile on tac, and I wondered why anyone would really want to be like that – I was more the uppers girl. I looked at him and said, It’s Jenni. She shrank.

I didn’t really want Jenni in the conversation though. She only lived round the corner, and I didn’t want her coming out in case I had a chance with Dan and I still wasn’t very trusting of her. I linked arms with him while Rachel pushed the pram, and we walked softly between the stars and the estate. The sky was getting pitch-black like a planetarium. Me and Dan turned the corner at Deepdale Avenue then disconnected on the grass, Rachel trying her best to steer Nicole up the bump. That time of year the leaves were down, and we stood on the brown mush for a bit with nothing to do.

What you gonna paint? I asked Debbie, who was shaking up the Brilliant Red and Hot Pink. I wished I’d come out in my pink HOT CHICK socks. The best thing Debbie ever painted was the roundabout at North Ormesby, spraying each rung the colour of the rainbow so when it spun it roygbived round like a colour-wheel. She was artistic like that.

Just a throw-up or something, she replied, and I wondered if we’d throw up the Bellabrusco too. I laughed to myself. I didn’t even know what a throw-up was. Rachel passed me the bottle while we watched Debbie outline wiggly pink then block it in, shaking that clickety sound in the cans. She was covering the back of someone’s fence, and I wondered how she did it so speedy in the pitch-dark. I could hardly see Dan’s pretty little face.

You two alright? I asked the boys, slinking around with their chins banging their tracksuit zips. They nodded. I swapped the Bella for Nicole again, then stood and pushed the pram back and forwards while cars shot past. Police often came round Beechwood looking for drug dealers and kids on motorbikes, but at least we weren’t under the curfew. Those kids in Saltersgill must get bored silly. Anyhow, the streets were quite empty round here and all, and Debbie was always dead quick to nail her pictures. She was a blur like a señorita with maracas, and yet the word DEBE was always crystal-clear in the plasticky paint. Standing back, me and Debbie jumped around for a bit, half happy and freezing to death. I didn’t know why we came out in our pyjamas so much – it was just a trend. I tucked my hands under the pink waistband, and I regretted it – I heard Gary thud fast on the soft grass, and he ripped down my PJ bottoms. Thank god for the Powerpuff Girl knickers. Everyone’s mouths got massive and they laughed, while I pulled up the pants again and felt embarrassed. I called Gary a 4-letter word then chased him round the playing field til we got tired, and he let me grab his dick-pouch for revenge. He loved it – I didn’t really dig my nails in though. We giggled loads at the other end of the field, then we hugged and he tried to grope my tits on the way back to DEBE’s piece. We were all over.

God, I’m horny as fuck! Gary yelled, but it was no excuse. I laughed but I didn’t let him touch me any more, instead standing next to the buggy and pretending to look after Baby Nicole. Rachel was all lovey-dovey too – her and Dan had snuggled up to the fence, away from the wet paint of course. They weren’t kissing, but you could tell they were hitting it off with all that raucous laughter and body language. I thought for a sec if they’d dropped a pill together, since we knew loads of places round Grove Hill to get them and often it’s an antidote to a boring evening. I made a mental note to check out their pupils. I poked out my dimples then tried to have a good time with Debbie, who was always up for fun and laughter when she was floating about. She was sky high on paint fumes – after a while we got her running around with a plastic bag over her head. I almost wetted the Powerpuffs. She looked like madness as TESCO sucked in and out with her breaths, and I’m surprised she didn’t have a fit on the grass. When she pulled off the bag she had a huge beaming grin, and I squinted my eyes so much she was just teeth and colour.

So am I sleeping at yours tonight? Gary asked me, joking about. I raised a tweezered eyebrow and sniggered, Hmm. You come down from Park End tonight, like?

Yeah, Gaz replied. I tilted my head but I wouldn’t shag Gary in a million years. He stinked and he shoplifted and he got into many a fight. Debbie liked him because they were in the same form, and often he stole paint for her from the car shops in town. He wasn’t black enough for her, though. In fact he had an almost smack-white complexion. I shuddered watching him roll a special cigarette on his knees, the baccy stuff making me think of Mam. I kept my eyes on the cars zipping past, hoping she wouldn’t catch me out with smokers and with Baby Nicole on top of that. I popped my head down and stuck my tongue out. All in all it was a weird night – me and Laura falling out, Rachel and Dan getting cuddly. Oh the sadness. I laughed and forgot all about it.

You want some of that? Dan shouted to me, holding out his Pulse cider. I took a swig then took a step back with his taste of fags in my mouth. I passed it back then pushed Nicole a little bit more – she was falling asleep even in the bitter cold and excitement. We hopped around the playing fields for a while longer, taking the piss and looking after each other as the sun fell off the earth completely. At about eleven I knew Mam would be home, and I imagined the Davieses worried sick and extremely cross with me. I was ready to head back, when the blue Fiesta pulled up and we saw the Jealous Girls.

Oi, dickheads! one of the girls shouted, sitting in the front with her spotty thick boyfriend. You look shit!

Me and Rachel glanced at each other, decked in pink and white with yellow elephants. The Jealous Girls were in our year at Brackenhoe, ugly pieces of shit from Saltersgill with dyed blonde hair and red cheeks like they’d been slapped. They were in the car with a couple of lads, and I gave the Fiesta the finger but they wouldn’t shift.

Fuck off you, Rachel yelled back, and she made me smirk.

You what? another Jealous Girl shouted from the back. They thought they were so smart driving round Keith Road and Belle Vue with dopey Aids carriers, and I grinned because our lads were so much nicer than theirs. Even Gaz looked dreamy in comparison. He was always up for aggro, and he strode up to the car spouting, You heard, you daft cunt.

Check all youse out, coming up here thinking you’re dead hard, the Jealous Girl in the front said, as we followed our Gary on the muddy grass. I did admire his confidence, and I laughed when he went, Yeah well check youse out in that fuckin piece of shit.

At least we’ve got a car, the Jealous Girl said – you could tell she was shagging the lad in the front; his hand was practically down her Donnay trousers, and hers was on his gear-stick. Urgh, Donnay trousers of all things.

Youse can shut up. That was his contribution. I pulled the pink top closer to my chest – you could see the boys in the Fiesta fancied us more than the Jealous Girls, but they could dream on. I was sometimes up for a bitch-fight, but all I did while everyone talked was push Baby Nicole around in the grass. I didn’t want her getting involved.

Fuckin starting? Gaz went, confronting that ugly cunt. I hoped she couldn’t hear the dirty words. Gary nearly stuck his face through the window, and you could sort of see it coming when the Jealous Girl lunged and dug her nails across it. He reeled backward, and we all flinched for him. The driver said then, Howay we’ll run them over!

He revved the engine dead loud and I glanced at Debbie, who was stood worryingly behind them. But it was funny – I loved stupid threats like that. I imagined the car full of Jealous Girls off-roading pathetically on the playing field, trying to round us all up and splat us across the grass. I hid my smile in the neck of the pyjama top. It was chilly. Me and Rachel linked arms with Dan as the Fiesta reversed, then brum-brummed as if it was going to come at us but we just stood and watched. Gary was all rashed on his cheek where the Jealous Girl had lashed out, and you imagined all the sperms and muck and poo she had under her nails. The Girls were always trying to out-do us, but with the boys around you couldn’t be afraid of a shitty G-reg. In the end the Fiesta just wheelspinned off down Deepdale – it was pretty obvious they wouldn’t bring it on the field; it would’ve fallen apart. As the car drove off there was a sad kind of feeling – it was very very late. I sighed and sighed. In the splashes of streetlight, you could just about see DAFT BITCHES sprayed on the boot of the Fiesta in hot pink and Debbie grinned as she clicked the cap back on. It stood out, pink on sky blue. We stared and we rolled around on the grass.

I lived in the ceiling with naked girls. I was first home on Thursday, and I grabbed a torch and Dad’s
Razzle
and climbed into the attic with my school uniform still on. I took up a tub of handcare cream. It was pretty dusty, and I sat amongst the Christmas decorations and a load of insects round my head. I didn’t know what was dirtier, being in the loft or having a big wank with my trousers and boxers down at four o’clock in the afternoon.

I had an okay day at school. The only thing I looked forward to at Brackenhoe was either hometime or seeing luxurious girls. Sometimes I wished they were from Beverley Hills or Dawson’s Creek instead of Berwick Hills or Doggy, but one smile or one word from someone like Rachel, Eve, Abi etc. could change your day. They blanked me at dinnertime, but on the way to fifth lesson I smiled at Debbie Forrester and for the whole of Double Science I was riding on a unicorn. Girls and music were the only things keeping my head screwed on. I smiled as I flicked the
Razzle
pages, all those girls sitting around with their bums in your face. You tried not to check for muck or hairs or anything, instead imagining yourself getting on with them and getting off with them. Now and then you had to put yourself in the same position with real girls from Brackenhoe, although I knew they’d already been shagged by people like Gary Clinton, Dan or Ste Barber – the arrogant, naughty cunts. I hated them. That morning Gaz barged into me just because I had to shut the Art Materials drawer four or five times.

There was a thud and a click in the hallway, and my parents came through the front door talking like birds. My heart popped out, and I almost stopped wanking but I’d just reached Danni 19 London and she had a great story about shagging her sister’s boyfriend on the Costa del Sol. I got the cream out from between my fingers. I made sure I didn’t creak the timbers, and I didn’t say a word when my mum shouted upstairs, ‘We’re back!’

I gulped then turned back to Danni 19. Mum and Dad might think I was out having fun, but really I was wanking in the attic. I tried not to moan as I got to that point with the white fountain. I could hear mumbles and grumbles through the floorboards, and I started to wonder how I’d get away with it but me and Danni 19 could keep a secret. She was great-looking for someone in such a filthy mag, and I wondered how it felt for her in front of all the cameras with her parts out. She seemed to be smiling, but all the time you must get sleazed by the crew and taken advantage of, and I hated that about boys. Her blue eyes and my hazels connected through the dark, and all the insects slowly started dancing round us as I reached the boil. I probably would’ve spunked if it wasn’t for my dad coming through the roof. The light bounced in like a gigantic awful glowworm and I shit myself. His hands appeared first then his head and the rest of him, and he had a double-take before clocking me and the porno mag. I yanked up the school trousers and I tried to shut it seven times but Danni 19 just stared out of the book and pouted. She was supposed to be my mate. I wondered if Dad had heard me creaking from downstairs or if he realised his porno was missing – he pretended not to recognise it as he grabbed me. The bugs scattered. Dad growled something not very nice, then went crazy and threw me across the loft. If it makes a difference, I didn’t feel so turned on any more. I wanted to die. He yelled something or other, then nearly ripped my ear off as he yanked me through a cloud of dust. All I tried to do was guard my head, pushing at him with one freezing cold hand and one hot clammy hand. I felt my foot smash through my bedroom ceiling, between the timbers where it was dead weak, and Dad got angry at that and punched me rock-hard in the face. I landed on the woodbeams. He came at me again with his steel-caps, me curling up and crying quite a bit but I wasn’t bleeding. He grabbed the
Razzle
then kicked me out the attic hole. I was screaming loads but luckily the step-ladder eased my fall as I went flying, and I thudded on the beigey carpet. I made a big performance, rolling around pretending to be dead, but Dad just rumbled down the steps and off to his bedroom. I didn’t get up til ages afterwards – I wanted to get back at him but it was more my style to lie around and feel sorry for myself. He kicked past me a few times and I didn’t get my tea. I wept a bit and wrapped myself round the step-ladder, and after an hour and a half I figured it was the ladder standing there that gave it all away.