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Authors: Casey Kelleher

BOOK: Heartless
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She could tell that she was rubbing the woman up the wrong way but she didn’t care. Stanley was hilarious and Nessa hadn’t had this much fun in ages but, realising that she was slurring now too, she said to herself that she wouldn’t have any more wine after this last glass.

Stanley’s chest ached from laughing. Nessa had got funnier as the night went on, not mincing her words at all, while his wife had been the complete opposite. Her tightly pursed mouth resembled a cat’s arse, he thought, as he gathered up the plates.

“Who’s for pudding?” he asked.

The women shook their heads. Nessa couldn’t eat another thing, and Bernie just wanted to keep drinking.

“So, looks like Sophia and Tommy are getting on really well,” Nessa said to Bernie as the women sat in silence looking out the window to where the two children were huddled up close to each other on the garden bench. She could see Rascal yapping away and playing happily with Jonathan, and she was pleased that the boy must have taken the hint and given Sophia and Tommy some space. Her little Rascal would keep the boy busy.

“Tommy is smitten with her, I have to say,” Bernie agreed, observing her son as he sat next to his very first girlfriend with a big smile on his face. Bernie had never seen him look so happy. Even Jonathan seemed to be behaving, she thought, as she watched him run up and down the garden bouncing the tennis ball on the ground, Rascal jumping around his feet. It must be hard for him to see his brother with Sophia, though; before Tommy met her, he and Jonathan had been joined at the hip. Bernie made a mental note to spend a bit more time with Jonathan: maybe tomorrow she would buy him those new trainers he had mentioned.

“Right now, how about some of this,” Stanley said, as he held out the bottle of Limoncello that had been tucked away in the back of the freezer since their holiday to Italy the previous year.

“Oh, go on then,” Nessa replied cheerily, as she held out the shot glass that Stanley had placed in front of her: one for the road wouldn’t hurt.

***

“I think my parents are a bit tipsy.” Tommy hoped Sophia hadn’t found them too embarrassing. Typically, that night was one of the few times that he had seen his mum let her hair down, and she had chosen to do it in front of Sophia and her nan.

“That’s alright, my nan’s in the same boat. She normally only has a sherry at Christmas or birthdays. She’ll be wasted on all that wine.” Sophia was glad that everyone seemed to be getting on. Even Jonathan seemed happier now that he was running up and down the garden like a lunatic, with Rascal chasing him for the ball.

“Are you cold?” Seeing Sophia’s teeth chatter, Tommy shuffled nearer to her on the bench, hoping he could keep her warm. Sophia smiled. She felt so comfortable with him, like they had known each other forever; although it had only been a week since Tommy had returned to school, in that time they had become inseparable. Tommy had changed her life. The tension at home was becoming unbearable, but spending time with Tommy helped her to forget it while she was with him.

Sophia had confided in Tommy about her dad’s abusive nature. He was the only person other than her nan that she had spoken to about it. Tommy had listened intently and he hadn’t judged her mother for putting up with her father’s behaviour when she told him of the times she had caught her dad hitting her mum, or grabbing her by her hair. Her mother tried so hard to hide her bruises, but Sophia had seen them.

Tommy had told Sophia that he would be there for her no matter what, and she was so grateful for that. He was the opposite of her dad. Sophia could tell that Tommy was a genuinely good person. Sophia’s nan had always said that you can tell how a man will treat you by the way that he treats his mother. And Tommy was very kind to his mum.

Tommy tapped his fingers on the bench. He felt stupid and awkward. He didn’t have the guts to wrap his arms around Sophia and pull her close. He wished he had the courage to tell her how he felt. But he was too scared in case she didn’t feel the same way. They hadn’t known each other long, what if he was reading the signals wrongly: what if she just felt sorry for him after what happened at the Lea?

“What’s up, Tommy? You’ve gone all quiet. What are you thinking about?” Sophia asked. They had sat in silence for a couple of minutes, and she could tell there was something on his mind. She wondered if he liked her as much as she liked him, but Tommy had yet to make any kind of a move, and Sophia didn’t want to seem pushy by being the one to initiate things unless he did first.

“Oh, I don’t know, it’s silly really, but I was just thinking...” Tommy started, unsure if he should tell her how he felt. But maybe now was as good a time as any.

“How are you two lovebirds getting on?” Jonathan smiled at Tommy knowingly before plonking himself down on the edge of a wall opposite his brother and Sophia.

Feeling his cheeks burn, Tommy shuffled further away from Sophia.

Sophia sighed loudly: Jonathan was a pain in the arse. He followed Tommy around like

a bad smell. Sophia wished he would get some friends of his own.

Jonathan took a crumpled pack of cigarettes and a lighter from his jacket pocket and lit up a bent cigarette.

“You’ll get caught if you do that out here,” Tommy said, worried that their mum and dad would then think that he was smoking too. Or even worse, that Sophia had been smoking. Knowing his mum, she would probably ban her from the house if she thought that Sophia was a bad influence.

Jonathan shrugged.

“Where’s Rascal?” Tommy asked, hoping that Jonathan would go off and look for him.

“At the back of the garden; he was sniffing out a rabbit hole or something when I left him.” Jonathan breathed in smoke. “Want a puff, Red?”

He had caught Sophia glaring at him, enjoying the fact that his presence was winding her up and knowing she hated it when he referred to her by the colour of her hair.

Sophia shook her head. She had tried to tell Tommy a couple of times about the expression on his twin’s face on the day that Tommy had nearly drowned; it had almost been as if he had enjoyed seeing Tommy’s seemingly lifeless body lying there. Sophia couldn’t understand how someone as kind and lovely as Tommy could be related to someone as weird and cold as Jonathan.

“Have you asked her about the party yet?” Jonathan asked, betting that his brother wouldn’t have plucked up the courage.

“What party?” Sophia asked Tommy.

Tommy gave his brother an annoyed look. He had wanted to tell Sophia how he felt about her first, and then he was going to mention the party. Jonathan had ruined his plan.

“Well, it’s up to you, Sophia,” Tommy said shyly, “but my mum said we can have a party for our sixteenth. And when she found out that your birthday is in a few days’ time she said we should move it forward to make it a party for all three of us. She’s got this crazy idea in her head that it would be a great way of thanking you for what you did for me, she said what with your dad being ill and all that...”

Tommy went red as he spoke: Sophia would probably think that it was a stupid idea.

“A party?” she asked.

“We could get some of the kids from school over: you can invite whoever you want... Mum said that she and Dad would go out for the evening. She must really want to thank you, because from the way she was talking she sounds like she wants to pull out all the stops.”

A big smile spread across Sophia’s pretty face.

“That would be amazing,” Sophia said as she placed her hand on top of Tommy’s and squeezed it tightly.

“She’s been acting like you’re royalty or something, Sophia. But whatever, it sounds like the perfect opportunity to get off our tits on cider,” Jonathan added. As he watched the lovey-dovey exchange, he felt a twang as he recognised the bond they had.

Light spilt out on to the grass, and they looked in that direction to see Stanley standing in the kitchen doorway.

“Sophia, I’ve just called a taxi. Your nan is a bit drunk, love,” Stanley said, as he held Nessa upright while she giggled like a young girl. He regretted insisting she knock back three large shots of Limoncello now that she could barely walk.

“Oh, Nan.” Sophia laughed, before standing up and calling for Rascal. As he was normally so well-behaved, she was surprised when he didn’t come at her first call.

“Rascal?” Sophia called again, with Tommy following suit. “Rascal, here boy,” he called.

“He’s probably gone down that rabbit hole, knowing him,” Sophia said, as she made her way to the back of the garden, thinking that it was typical that her nan was drunk and Rascal playing truant on the one night she had wanted to make a good impression.

“Rascal, darling,” Nessa called, as she staggered onto the patio, almost tripping. “Rascal, come on my little babby, we have to go home. Ooh, dear. I feel a bit queasy.”

Stanley helped Nessa walk to the end of the garden, thinking that a bit of fresh air might help, and failing that at least they could help to find Rascal: then he could put Nessa in a cab so that she could go home and sleep it off. That Italian stuff he poured them must have been stronger than he realised because even he felt quite tipsy and Bernie was already in bed.

Stepping through a pile of leaves, Sophia leaned in towards a big spray of climbing roses that Stanley grew up against the back fence.

She thought she could hear a whimper.

Searching on the ground, she couldn’t find any rabbit hole but she was sure she could hear the dog, and then she heard the whimper again.

“Rascal’s here, Tommy,” she called, as he came running over, hearing the panic in her voice. “I think he must be stuck somewhere. I can’t see him, but I can just about hear him.”

Pushing through the bushes, Tommy didn’t care that his arms were bleeding from the scratches as the thorns tore at his skin.

“Oh my God: Rascal,” Tommy cried, as he reached the wire fence that was hidden behind the dense rose bushes, and spotted Rascal’s little furry body tied to it. His feet were dangling above ground level, while he hung limply by his neck, his bowtie wrapped tightly around the metal like a noose.

Sophia peered over Tommy’s shoulder and screamed as she caught a glimpse of Rascal’s body hanging there limply. Tommy pushed her out of the way to protect her from seeing any more than she already had.

Rascal’s mouth had gone grey and his eyes were vacant, but as soon as Tommy touched him, he could feel that he was warm and that he had a faint heartbeat.

“Don’t let your nan come back here, Sophia,” he commanded. He ripped at the bowtie fixing the dog to the fence, and released him from his suffering.

“What’s going on?” Stanley and Nessa had found Sophia crying and shaking, and Tommy crouched over on the ground.

“Don’t let my nan see,” Sophia implored. “Rascal has had an accident. Please, Stanley, don’t let her see.”

“Dad, we’re going to have to call a vet,” Tommy called, as he cradled Rascal in his arms, relieved to see that the dog was breathing, his chest rising slowly up and down. Sophia was crying hysterically, the sight of Rascal just hanging there had been too much to bear.

“Rascal must have jumped up to get his ball and got the bowtie caught up on the fence, Nan, he was just hanging there...” she whimpered.

Nessa clasped her hand over her mouth in shock; the sight of Rascal’s body lying limply in Tommy’s arms was instantly sobering. “Oh Rascal, my poor boy; it’s all my fault. That stupid bloody bowtie could have killed him.”

Tommy placed Rascal in Nessa’s arms. Lying there weakly, he wagged his tail and Nessa started to cry. Rascal was a child and a best friend rolled into one; she would be lost without him.

Tommy and his dad exchanged glances. Tommy nodded over to where his brother was sitting on the bench with an expression on his face that looked like he was thoroughly enjoying the drama that was unfolding in front of him.

Tommy whispered: “He didn’t get caught up, Dad; his collar-tie had been tied into a double knot.” Tommy felt sick; a few more minutes and Rascal would have been dead.

Stanley couldn’t speak. Jonathan had tried to hang Nessa’s dog.

Chapter Nine

“It’s not exactly the party of the century, is it? I thought you said that there was going to be booze,” Megan Farrow muttered to Sophia as she half-heartedly swayed her body in time with the awful music that was blasting out, hoping that she would at least look like she was having a good time even though she really wasn’t. Tugging down her mini-dress, Megan wished that she hadn’t gone to so much effort; she couldn’t help but notice the stares that she was getting from most of the boys in the room. The other girls were just wearing casual tops and jeans.

As for the venue, the house itself was okay but it wasn’t exactly a happening and cool place unless you were into floral prints and dingy looking furniture: she should have brought her gran. Megan was willing to give the party a chance though, Tommy’s parents may not have had much taste when it came to décor but she could see that they certainly had money and she thought that her friend Sophia had landed on her feet with this new boyfriend. Apparently he had a twin, too.

Scanning the room, however, she felt let down. The boys at the party were just that: boys. Megan liked men and, because she looked older than her age with her hair done and her make-up on, they liked her too. As Megan glanced around the room she turned her nose up at the lack of talent. The room was full of immature boys throwing themselves about to the music and they all had more chance of pulling a muscle than they did at pulling her tonight.

Even the food was disappointing: cheese-and-pineapple sticks and overflowing bowls of sausage rolls sat cluttered on a bright pink tablecloth strategically placed around the grand centrepiece: a home-made Victoria Sponge birthday cake. The whole thing reminded Megan of a child’s party.

“They do know you’re sixteen and not six? It’s a bit shit, don’t you think?” Megan said sulkily, as she searched the table for anything alcoholic. The Spice Girls’ squeaky voices were now blaring out of the stereo at full volume and she figured that she would need a few drinks to help her through the evening.

“I’m having a good time,” Sophia said.

“I can’t believe that I let you drag me here.” Megan scowled. “When you said party, this,” she indicated the kids that were dancing dementedly around her, “wasn’t what I had in mind. This Jonathan had better be worth it.”

Sophia sighed. Megan was hard work sometimes, and why she was clutching on to the idea of Jonathan she had no idea: Sophia had warned her that he was nothing like Tommy. In fact he was the complete opposite. As for the party, her own thoughts couldn’t have been more different. Tommy had clearly gone to a lot of effort for her, and she thought that the party was amazing. Okay, so the buffet and the music were cheesy, but that’s what birthday parties were supposed to be and unlike her friend, Sophia thought that the trouble Tommy had taken to make tonight special was sweet.

“Oh my God, please tell me that we’re not drinking fucking Ribena all night.” Megan had spotted the cartons of soft drinks all lined up in a neat row on the sideboard. Realising that she was about to launch into another of her long-winded rants, Sophia nudged her hard in the ribs.

“Shush, here come the boys.”

Tommy and Jonathan made their way to where the two girls were standing. Sophia gave Tommy a beaming smile, ignoring Jonathan.

Staring from one twin to the other, Megan sniggered. They were dressed in matching red checked shirts and black jeans. “Oh my God, don’t you think you’re taking the whole identical thing a bit too far? Are you wearing the same pants too?”

Megan vaguely recognised the boys as being in her year, but up until now she had never actually spoke to either of them. Looking from one boy to the other she tried to see if she could spot any differences. Sophia was smitten with Tommy, and Megan could see that out of the two he did seem to be the nicer one. He seemed softer around the edges, and came across as shy. The other boy, Jonathan, had beady eyes and the way he was standing there leering at her didn’t help. Either way neither of the boys were the heartthrobs that Sophia had made them out to be and wealthy or not, Jonathan didn’t stand a chance with Megan.

“God, don’t ask.” Tommy pretended to laugh, feeling stupid. He had meant to change after his mum had gone, but she had been so busy fussing that by the time everyone they had invited from school had started to arrive Tommy had forgotten. Tommy didn’t realise how many people would actually turn up. They had to be here for Sophia, he and Jonathan had barely been given the time of day by most of these kids normally. Hopefully, things were going to change for the better after tonight. Glancing down at his shirt, Tommy shrugged. He and Jonathan both looked ridiculous but their mum had insisted on them wearing the new shirts that she had bought especially for tonight, in her element as she tried to dress them up as she had when they were small on special occasions. To keep the peace, Tommy had gone along with it, especially after the effort his mum had gone to helping him to get the party ready for Sophia. He had been surprised when Jonathan had gone along with it too, normally he would kick up a fuss. He’d even, for the first time ever, agreed to get his hair cut in the same neat style as Tommy, which their mum had been over the moon about. She had taken at least twenty photos of the boys before she had left.

“Tommy, I can’t believe how great it all looks,” Sophia said, seeing Tommy’s cheeks colour at Megan’s words. She thought the matching outfits were cute. “This must have taken you ages.”

“So you like it then, yeah?” Tommy asked. His main aim tonight had been to impress Sophia and by the smile on her face he had a feeling that he had succeeded.

“Took us ages to get rid of Mum and Dad, didn’t it, Jonathan?” Tommy wanted to include his brother in the conversation. Jonathan hadn’t been able to do enough to help Tommy with the preparations, and he hoped that Jonathan would be prepared to put his differences with Sophia aside too. Jonathan was prone to having tantrums even at almost sixteen but Tommy hoped that today was the start of his brother finally growing up. Ever since the other night, when Rascal had had his accident, Jonathan had been behaving impeccably. When questioned, he swore blind that he hadn’t done anything to Rascal, as much as his dad had shouted at him. Tommy and Stanley both knew that he was lying, but Bernie believed Jonathan. Rascal was a little terror with boundless energy: he had dashed about the house sniffing everything out. Getting caught up on that fence would have been easily done.

“Yeah, Mum was a bloody nightmare,” Jonathan concurred. “I don’t think she wanted to leave in the end. She said something about staying to wish you a happy birthday, Sophia; you know, after all you did for Tommy. I think she just wanted to check up on us. She’s convinced that we’re all going to start getting off our heads on drink. I thought Dad was going to throw her over his shoulder at one point and carry her out.”

Their mother had been her usual annoying self today and Jonathan and Tommy had practically had to push her out of the door to make sure she left. She had been so concerned about the state of her house and garden that Jonathan had wondered why she had suggested they had the party in the first place.

“Not much chance of getting off our heads on blackcurrant juice, is there?” Megan spoke glumly. She grimaced as she watched one of the boys from school stuff two large sausage rolls in his mouth at once and spit pastry as he chewed them. “Looks like we’re going to be playing pass-the-parcel and musical chairs like good little children then.”

“Well, actually...” Jonathan grinned at Megan as he pulled out a bottle a big bottle of Coca-Cola from behind a chair and held it up like a prize trophy.

“Just when I thought that it couldn’t get any worse,” Megan cried. “Shoot me now! Please tell me that you’re not actually excited about drinking poxy coke.”

“Ah, see, that’s where you’re wrong.” Jonathan grinned. “It isn’t coke.” Unscrewing the lid, Jonathan passed the bottle up to Megan’s nose.

The aroma of alcohol wafted up her nose. “What’s in it?” Megan asked, suddenly feeling hopeful.

Tommy, however, was feeling stressed. They had promised their mum that no-one would be drinking.

“But Mum will know that we’ve drunk it,” Tommy said. Their mother would have made it her business to know exactly how much alcohol they had in the drinks cabinet, she was sure to notice it was missing.

“For fuck’s sake, Tommy; I’m not a complete moron. I poured a bit of everything in here. Gin, vodka, rum, whiskey. It’s a bit of a concoction really. And don’t worry, Tommy, I topped all the bottles up after. Trust me, they won’t have a clue.”

“So it’s a cocktail then?” Megan said, smiling for the first time since she had arrived.

“It is. It’s called... Sweet Sixteen.”

Megan took a glass from Jonathan and held it out eagerly. Sophia did the same, and Jonathan poured out generous measures for the girls and Tommy. Jonathan, Tommy and the girls clinked glasses and said ‘Cheers’, before tipping their heads back and drinking the large shots down in one.

Jonathan spluttered from the strength of the alcohol, and then laughed. “Wow, a few more shots and this will be the best party you girls have ever been to. Let’s do another.”

Jonathan poured more drinks. Tommy shook his head. The alcohol had burned his throat and the fumes had shot up his nostrils, making him wince.

“Oh, come on, Tommy, don’t be such a pussy. She’s sixteen, let’s celebrate in style.” Jonathan smiled, happy that the girls were keen for more alcohol. Tommy was just making himself look like a coward, and Jonathan thought it was hilarious that he would act so pathetically in front of the girls. Sophia would soon realise what a wet blanket he could be.

“Nah, but you go for it. That stuff tastes rank,” Tommy added, surprised when Sophia downed a second glass. Because of what Sophia had told him about her father’s addiction to alcohol, Tommy had expected her to abstain. It was her sixteenth birthday too, though, and although Tommy didn’t want to get drunk, he wasn’t going to try and stop Sophia.

As the evening went on and the drinks kept flowing, Megan thought that Jonathan had been right: now they had all had a few drinks the party was fun. Feeling tipsy, Megan threw her head back and sung along with the music at the top of her voice.

Feeling herself swaying even though she had been sitting down for at least fifteen minutes, Sophia slumped back onto the sofa as she tried desperately not to throw up.

“Here you go, Sophia, have this. You don’t look so great, and if you’re feeling a bit sick, my mum swears that lemonade settles your stomach. She gives it to me and Tommy every time either of us have a dodgy stomach.” Jonathan handed Sophia the glass and watched as she threw her head back and drank it down in one. The ‘lemonade’ was more vodka than anything else. That and the six large shots of his cocktail she had just done should be enough to do the trick he thought to himself nastily. His mum had deviously drawn a line in pencil along the label of the vodka bottle so that she would know if it had been touched, but always one step ahead Jonathan had even more deviously topped up bottle with water, replacing the alcohol so that his mum wouldn’t notice it had been taken. “You’re welcome.”

He smiled before walking off.

***

“You alright, Soph?” Tommy asked, a few minutes later as he sat on the sofa next to her. He had been so busy making sure that everyone had drinks and topping up the crisp bowls as his mother had instructed him that by the time he had thought to check on Sophia she was slumped over on a chair.

“I feel a bit sick, Tommy,” Sophia said quietly, wishing that she hadn’t done so many shots this evening. She had managed to dance for a couple of songs with Megan, but then she had started to feel dizzy and had needed to sit down. She had only drunk the shots because she knew that Megan wanted her to. Now Megan was grinding away on the dance floor, enjoying herself, leaving Sophia alone to fight the puke that kept threatening to come up at the back of her throat. The lemonade that Jonathan had given her hadn’t helped at all, in fact she felt worse than ever.

“You don’t look very well,” Tommy said, seeing Sophia’s skin looking even more transparent than normal and beads of sweat on her forehead. “Do you want to go upstairs and lie down for a bit? On your own, I mean... not with me. Not that I don’t want to come with you. But if you’re feeling sick…”

“Yeah, I need to lie down.” The room was spinning, and Sophia felt like she might throw up. She had no idea how her dad managed to knock back as much as he did on a daily basis. This was the first time that she had been drunk and the way she felt right now it would be the last. With blurry vision, Sophia unsteadily let Tommy guide her out of the room and up the stairs. Walking past Megan who also looked like she had had too much to drink, Tommy shook his head at her snogging the face off some lad who was at least a foot shorter than her, while the boy groped at Megan’s chest. Tommy would have to check on her once he had made sure Sophia was okay.

“And where are the two little lovebirds off to?” Jonathan watched his brother escort Sophia upstairs. “Mum said upstairs was out of bounds, remember? Mind you, if you’re going to do what I think you’re going to do, then mum’s the word.”

Jonathan winked at Tommy, thinking that finally his brother was going to lose his virginity. He couldn’t help feel impressed that Tommy was willing to have sex with Sophia when she was paralytic. Maybe Tommy wasn’t such an innocent after all. It was probably the only way he’d get into Miss Snooty-pants’ knickers.

“Sophia doesn’t feel very well, so she’s going to lie down for a bit. ‘Someone’ gave her too much booze, and now she’s wasted,” Tommy replied. He held on to Sophia, who was wobbling on a stair. Tommy was furious with Jonathan. He had been pouring drinks down Sophia and Megan’s necks all night, and now Sophia’s night was ruined and Megan didn’t look too far behind her. She was in such a state that she was probably going to miss the rest of the evening while she slept off the alcohol’s ill effects, if she didn’t puke her guts up beforehand.

Shaking his head at how upset Tommy sounded over his pathetic lightweight girlfriend, Jonathan walked off, smiling, pleased with himself that his plan had worked. He had guessed that stuck-up little bitch wouldn’t be able to handle her drink.

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