Ostrich Boys (16 page)

The train trundled to a halt at Gretna. A couple of people got off but nobody got on. The conductor stepped out onto the platform, and I wondered if he was waiting for the special police task force.

And then I told myself to get a grip.

The girls had their shopping bags open on the table in front of them and were comparing the clothes they’d bought, holding up T-shirts with dangling price tags for inspection and admiration. They didn’t seem the least bit concerned the conductor might notice one extra sitting there. But what was he going to do? He was on the platform watching nobody getting on his train. He’d just assume he’d already checked the redhead’s ticket.

Kenny, Sim and I huddled around our own table with the map open in front of us. The train shuddered as it pulled away. I let out a quick breath of relief to be moving again.

“Right, now we’re in Scotland,” I said. “At last.”

Kenny was more interested in the girls. “They’re nice, aren’t they? I really like them.”

“Stop drooling,” Sim told him. “You’re getting the map soggy.”

“So from here to here,” I said, pointing out both Dumfries and Ross. “You really think we should just start walking tonight?” Scotland, I thought. We’re nearly there. I knew our destination was further than it seemed just by looking at the map, but for once it felt close. And I was in a rush now. “It’s gonna be a hell of a walk,” I said.

“Sounded good when I said it an hour ago,” Sim admitted. “But I’m knackered, and starving. Maybe crashing for the night wouldn’t be a bad idea.”

“What about you, Kenny?” I asked.

He was still staring at the girls. “Who d’you like best?”

“Genuinely, Kenny: I’m not interested right now, okay?” What I wanted to do was sneak off to the toilet to check my phone again. “We’ve got other stuff to worry about.”

“Yeah, but you must fancy one of them. Come on, there’s three of them. One each, yeah?”

“Nothing’s gonna happen, Kenny. It’s not worth getting all het up about.”

“Who’s het up? Do I look like someone who’s hetting up?”

“Keep your voice down,” Sim told him. “And Blake’s right, we’ve got other stuff to think about. But if I was on
the pull …” He clicked his tongue. “The one with the short blond hair would be mine.”

Kenny wasn’t happy. “No way. She’s the one I’d pick. I fancied her first. You can’t pick her.”

Sim grinned. “Tough. All mine.”

“Why? Who says? That’s not fair. Tell him, Blake. Tell him he’s—”

“Kenny,” I hissed, glancing at the girls, embarrassed. “Get a grip.”

He lowered his voice. “What if she likes me more?”

Sim just laughed.

Kenny bristled. “I don’t know why you’re laughing. You think you’re so cool but they’ve already knocked you back, haven’t they?”

“Even monkeys fall out of trees sometimes,” Sim said. “And think about it: if they knocked
me
back, you don’t stand a chance, my friend.”

Kenny fizzed with indignation. He narrowed his eyes at Sim, tried to shoot him dead with an invisible laser-beam glare. But then he turned in his seat, his back to the two of us. He faced the girls across the aisle and surprised us by saying: “Er, hey, excuse me. Hi.” He pushed his floppy fringe out of his eyes and worked his most winning smile.

He’d surprised the girls too. The short-blond acted like her seat was suddenly uncomfortable, the long-blond looked like she’d stepped in something nasty, and the redhead just seemed plain bemused.

“I’m Kenny,” Kenny said.

The long-blond one shrugged. “Congratulations.” And the short-blond one sniggered.

Sim sighed, shook his head. “Kenny, Kenny, Kenny,” he whispered, managing to sound both sorrowful and smug.

The redhead was staring at Kenny like he was something peculiar and fascinating under a microscope. He said to her, “So, you know, how come you were hiding from the conductor?”

The blond girls looked at him like he was an idiot. Which, to be fair, he was.

The short-blond said, “Because she didn’t have a ticket, obviously. What’re you going to do? Tell tales on us now?” There was a needle of bitchiness in her voice.

I squirmed in my seat, embarrassment shriveling me up.

Kenny either didn’t care or didn’t notice. He plowed on. “No, no, I lost my ticket too, you see? We’re from Cleethorpes. You know, in England? And I had it in my bag but I left it on the train at Doncaster. My bag, not my ticket. Well, my ticket too, I suppose—because it was in my bag at the time, wasn’t it? I had all my stuff in my bag. Lost it all. And my phone. Then we got kicked off at York when I got caught. I’m telling you: Blake and Sim were really pissed off. Sim gets really angry really quick. He’s like that. But … But we …” At last he noticed the mystified looks on the girls’ faces. “So we, er …” He closed his mouth, bit his bottom lip. “Um,” he said.

The train rattled along. We were jogged and bounced in our seats. Nobody said a word.

“Um,” Kenny repeated. He looked like he was drowning.

I felt maybe I should dive in to save him. But the redhead said: “Wow. See, that’s just like me. Although not totally like me because I never had a ticket anyways. Hayley, see, her brother gave us a lift to Carlisle and we all said, aye, we’d get the train back. But I spent all my money. See this top? I just couldn’t resist. So I had to hide. Anyways, Hayley and Kayleigh, they got mad like your pals did with you, saying I’m always doing it. But I’m not always doing it.” She grinned, showed her dimples. “But I am sometimes.”

Kenny blinked, twice, shocked by her sudden burst of chatter.

“I’m Kat,” the redhead said. She pointed at her friends; the short-blond, then the long-blond. “Hayley. Kayleigh.” And back to herself. “Kat.”

Kenny said, “I’m … Kenny.”

“See, I know that, ’cos you’ve said it already.”

Kenny nodded. “Yeah. Sorry.”

“Who’s Blake and which one’s Sim?”

I admitted to being Blake, but Sim seemed to be trying to avoid any kind of eye contact with her whatsoever.

“Is Sim short for
simple
?” she asked.

Kenny thought that was funny; he grinned at Sim.

And Sim punched his arm. Hard.

“Anyways, that’s rude, sorry,” Kat said. “I like the name
Kenny, though. See, I had a dog called Kenny once. He was half mutt, half mongrel, but we loved him. He was totally gentle and friendly. He never chased me even though he knew I was called Kat.” She laughed at her own joke. Kenny laughed too. “He died anyways, when I was nine and three-quarters. I remember it because I wasn’t ten yet. He ate one of my Barbies and the vet said he choked to death. See, and my mum bought me a new Barbie for my birthday, but I wanted another dog.”

“I’ve always wanted a dog,” Kenny said.

“You should get one,” Kat told him. “But don’t call it Kenny. See, it’d be confusing.”

And they both thought that was just downright hilarious.

I was astounded she’d been able to keep her mouth shut long enough to hide from the conductor. She didn’t want to shut up now, that was for sure. But all the time she was talking, her two friends rolled their eyes and grimaced at each other—kind of the way Sim and I did whenever Kenny opened his mouth.

Kenny turned to me, big-eyed, grinning, and silently mouthed:
She’s amazing
.

Sim was also wide-eyed. He mouthed:
She’s a mentalist
.

Kenny managed to forget that Hayley was meant to have been the girl who’d caught his eye. By the time we arrived at Dumfries, he and Kat were like Velcro. The rest of us had had to shuffle seats to let them sit next to each other.

“I’m telling you: taking history at school is just stupid. All it’s gonna do is get harder and harder, because more stuff keeps happening.”

“That’s why I’m wanting to do geography. See, with all the global warming and everything, and all the seas rising all the time, it’s got to get easier.”

It was close to ten o’clock, still light, but you could tell the end of the day was coming. The six of us walked out of the train station together. And I told myself not to be stupid, but I still hesitated a second or so just to check there were no police cars waiting.

“You okay?” Sim asked.

I nodded. “Yeah. Course.”

We stood in the car park out front. I’d expected to emerge into the center of the town, but we seemed to be on the outskirts somewhere. There were big, posh houses opposite; tall, old and ornate. Strange as it sounds, they looked Scottish too. There was also a bus stop with a timetable printed on the outside of the glass shelter.

With Kenny and Kat getting on so well, it had at least broken the ice for the rest of us. And Sim was keen to hasten the thaw with Hayley. He pointed at Kenny and Kat, who were now holding hands. “Sweet, isn’t it?” he said.

“Aye,” Hayley agreed. “Sweet like jelly babies.”

“She hates jelly babies,” Kayleigh explained.

Sim shrugged. “Horses for courses, I suppose.” Which at least made Hayley laugh. “Hey, wasn’t your brother and his army mates meant to be meeting you?” he asked, teasing her.

She narrowed her eyes at him. “Aye, and he still will if I tell him you’re sex maniacs.”

He winked at her. She tutted and shoved him away from her. It was a very physical flirtation.

I headed over to the bus shelter to check the times. If we were lucky there might still be a bus going our way. Problem was, I didn’t recognize any of the names of the places the buses were going. Ross didn’t appear anywhere. I had to dig the map out of my rucksack and hope to find somewhere as close as possible. It seemed to be my lucky night when I found a town that looked good.

“Kenny,” I called. “Sim.”

Sim wandered over. But either Kenny hadn’t heard or was trying to ignore me—too busy giggling with Kat. So I shouted again. This time he looked over at me with a scowl. I scowled back. Sim pointed at a spot by his feet, and beckoned him over with a slowly curled finger. Kenny slouched toward us across the car park like a resentful dog.

“What?”

“We can still get a bus tonight,” I said, grinning, expecting them to be as relieved as I was.

“To Ross?”

I showed them the map. “Not quite. But close. To this place here: Kirkcudbright. It can only be about five or six miles to Ross from there.” It all seemed to be turning out easier than expected. This was great, this was brilliant. It was like a weight had been dropped off my shoulders. Everything might be going to turn out okay after all.

Kenny looked back toward Kat, who was the center of a conspiratorial scrum with Hayley and Kayleigh. “I thought we were gonna stay here tonight.”

“If we can get to Ross tonight, then we’ll be able to get back home again tomorrow. The buses run Sundays too, yeah? And the quicker we get home the less trouble there’ll be.”

Kenny stared at his feet. Then looked back toward Kat. Again he said, “But we were gonna stay here tonight.”

“I thought you were worried about your mum. You do know how much crap we’re gonna have to be dodging for
the rest of our lives, don’t you?” I felt stressed that I had to deal with both my secret and his stiffy. “And stay where? And with what money?”

He mumbled something at his feet.

“What?”

“Maybe we can stay with the girls,” he said.

“Have you asked them?”

“No.”

“Have they offered?”

“No, but—”

“Right, so the bus leaves at—”

Sim butted in. “We could get the bus tomorrow. You said they’re running, right?”

I turned on him. “Yeah, but we’re getting one tonight.”

“Come on, Blake. When was the last time you met a girl who laughed at any of Kenny’s jokes? He’s usually got to knock them out and tie them down.” Kenny let the insult fly. He wasn’t so daft he didn’t realize when Sim was on his side. “Look at his face: not even his mother can love it. But he’s met a girl as off her head as he is. It’s fate—gotta be. It’ll be torture to make him walk away now.”

“You’re only saying that because you think you’re in with Hayley.”

“I don’t think—I
know
. And that still leaves Kayleigh for you.”

I shook my head. “I told you, I’m not interested in trying to get off with anyone.”

Sim scoffed. “That’ll be a first.”

“I just want to do what we came here to do, okay? You remember that, right?” I held my rucksack up in front of me, hoping the thought of what was inside would make them see sense. “Joe said it: we’re on a mission. And there’s a bus can take us—”

“Let’s have a vote,” Kenny said.

I was stunned.

Kenny took quick advantage. “Who votes we get the bus tomorrow instead?” Both he and Sim held their hands high.

I stood there, half dumb. “Just … What …? But …”

Kenny was already hurrying over to be with Kat again.

Sim was grinning at me. “I’ll get Hayley to have a word with Kayleigh. You know, drop a couple of hints for you.”

“Don’t,” I told him, feeling both shocked and deflated that this day had somehow managed to become even more complicated. Again. “Just … Don’t.”

He also wandered back to the girls. It felt like the two of them had ganged up on me. It felt like a mutiny. We often used to have these silly votes with Ross, but at least then I could rely on him to be on my side. Our friendship used to be a solid square, one of us to each corner. Things were very different as a triangle.

And I was tempted to tell them about DS Cropper, just shout it out—I knew that would halt them in their tracks. But I also knew it might make them turn right round and head back into the station, jumping on the first
train south. I bit the revelation back, deciding I couldn’t risk it.

I swung my rucksack over my shoulder and mooched across the car park to the group of them. “So what’ve you two geniuses got planned, then?” I didn’t care how petulant I sounded.

“We need somewhere to stay the night,” Sim told Hayley.

“I thought you were visiting a friend.”

“Yeah, we are. But he doesn’t live in Dumfries, and he’s not really expecting us until tomorrow.”

“And we haven’t got any money for a hotel,” Kenny said. “Because I lost my bag? I told you? It had all my money and stuff in it. This is the only T-shirt I’ve got now.”