Ostrich Boys (19 page)

Kayleigh laughed again. She was so close. I tingled all down the side where we touched. I realized it might be very easy to turn toward her and kiss her. Easy and tempting. But I stayed very still. I said, “Then I came along in secondary school. My parents split up and I moved to live with my mum, so started at their school.” Sitting next to Kayleigh, our bodies touching, was far enough.

We heard giggles from Kat and Kenny. A cool breeze had come out of nowhere and it rustled the tops of the trees.

Kayleigh said, “So is Ross a real person, then?”

I didn’t know how to reply for a second. I stumbled for words. She felt me go tense.

She said, “Hayley doesn’t think he’s real. But we can’t work out why you’d be here if he wasn’t. Kat thinks you might be running away.”

I heard myself say something stupid like “What d’you mean, is he a real person? That’s … you know, isn’t it?” And cringed.

“If he’s real, then he’s definitely not your best pal.”

I felt on firmer ground here, with something solid to
defend. “He’s the best friend I’ve ever had. Him, Kenny and Sim all are.”

“But how can he be your best friend if you don’t even know where he lives?”

“We do. I told you: Kirkcudbright.”

“No, you told us
Kerk-cud-bright
. And you said he’s lived there a year? So how come after a whole year he’s never told you how it’s pronounced?”

I squirmed. “Well, it’s just outside where he lives. You know, not quite in the center, exactly.”

She shook her head.

“But he’s real,” I said. “I promise. Ask Kenny and Sim. He’s absolutely our best mate. All four of us, we’re all best friends.”

She was quiet, thinking it over.

I could hear the wind getting stronger and feel it stealing away the summer warmth. I said, “I could do with a jumper.” Fetching my rucksack was a good excuse to climb out of the whirligig. The side of me she’d been leaning against was quick to chill without her warmth.

She followed me over to the blanket. “I don’t know if boys even really have best friends.”

I was shocked. And offended. “Of course we do.”

“Do you buy Kenny, Sim and Ross birthday presents?”

“No.” It came out a bit too scornful.

“Boys never do, do they? Girls buy each other presents for Christmas and birthdays because it’s like showing how
special their friendship is, showing how much we care about them. I was ill in February, and was only off school for two days, but Hayley and Kat still came to see me and gave me get-well cards. Then, last week, I had a piano exam. They gave me a good-luck card too. Boys never buy each other cards.”

I thought, Thank God for that. But what I said was “It doesn’t mean we’re not friends.”

“Girls always talk to each other. We tell each other everything.”

“We always talk.”

“When?”

“At school. At home. Whenever we see each other.”

“
We
phone each other every night, and send each other texts all the time too. It’s not only when we see each other. Boys don’t talk to each other about proper things. I know I can talk to my pals all the time anytime I want and tell them
anything.”

I knew there were one or two things I would never dream of telling Kenny or Sim. But maybe I would have talked to Ross about them…. “You’re being a bit unfair, aren’t you?” I said. “Okay, maybe we don’t talk all the time, but maybe we don’t need to. I know Kenny and Sim would be there for me if I needed them. In fact, just today with that bungee jump? The guy who ran it was a total arsehole, but Kenny and Sim were right by my side all the time.” I was surprised by the strength of my feelings. I felt wronged,
misunderstood. “What we do for each other’s just not always said out loud.”

She wasn’t convinced. “I’ve seen boys. Most of you would rather fight than admit you liked each other.”

“Most isn’t everyone,” I said.

“We know everything about each other. I know what size clothes Hayley and Kat wear. And we share too. I bet you don’t share clothes with Kenny.”

“Shit, no. Have you seen that T-shirt he’s wearing?”

“So what do you do? I’ve got two brothers, see? All my little brother and his pals do is play computer games all day. And Calum, the older one, all he does is either ride his motorbikes, clean his motorbikes or mend his motorbikes. He likes them better than real people. Unless he’s playing football.”

“Well, yeah. We play football and computer games. But that’s still being with your mates, isn’t it?”

“No it’s not. It’s just trying to win—competing with each other.”

“I’d do anything for Kenny and Sim.” I did feel a bit weird, a bit embarrassed, saying it out loud like that. Because we were mates—nothing more. But no way did I want Kayleigh to think anything
less
. “It’s just the same as you with Hayley and Kat. And me, Kenny and Sim would do anything for Ross. I mean, look what we’re doing for him now, coming all this way to Scotland. You don’t do what we’re doing for someone unless he’s your best friend. It’s all
because we miss him, isn’t it? I really, really, genuinely, one hundred percent miss him. D’you know how much I wish he was here right now, because—?”

And I suddenly had to swallow my next words, but the big lump in my throat made it difficult. I missed him. I had to gulp back some surprised tears. He should be here. Now.

“I miss him.”

“But does he know?” Kayleigh asked. “I bet you’ve never told him any of this stuff to his face.”

I went cold. I had goose pimples. My voice faltered. “I … No,” I admitted. “No, I never told him.”

I was scared I was going to erupt into tears in front of this girl who I’d only just met. And I knew I’d never live it down if Kenny and Sim found out. I was thankful my face was dark to her and dropped my head.

The wind was rustling the treetops. Clouds blew across the dark sky. It felt like a sharp storm was brewing. I dug in my rucksack for my jumper. I had to unwrap it from around Ross and was tempted to tell Kayleigh everything. Just to prove her wrong. When I pulled my jumper over my head I was able to give my face a surreptitious scrub to dry any leaks. It was only when my head popped out of the hole that I saw a torch bobbing over the field toward us. Someone had climbed the gate at the road.

“Who’s that?”

Kayleigh looked behind her, just as whoever it was
shouted, “Hayley!” He was Scottish, and big by the looks of his chunky silhouette.

Over in the grass off to our right I heard swearing and a hurried rumpus. Hayley’s torch flicked on. I saw Sim’s annoyed and confused face squinting into light, then the beam whipped across the field toward the newcomer.

Who shouted again, “Hayley!”

Kayleigh looked worried. She snatched up the blanket, started bundling it back into the shopping bag.

“Is it her dad?” I asked.

But Kayleigh shook her head. “No. Calum’s my older brother.”

“So why’s he want Hayley?”

“Because she’s his girlfriend.”

It could have gone really badly, but the rain came. It lashed down. Nobody wanted to fight in that kind of downpour. But neither Calum nor Sim wanted to be the first to back down.

They squared up to each other in the dark, and I hoped Kayleigh took note of the way Kenny and I were there at Sim’s side. Calum was about twenty, I reckoned, wearing a thin shirt smeared with what I guessed was motorbike grease. A big bloke, with a square jaw and rock-star stubble. Better-looking than Sim, so maybe more worried about getting his face damaged. He didn’t look like he was going to be the first to throw a punch, anyway. Hayley grabbed his arm and tried to pull him away. The rain flattened his hair and dripped off the end of his nose.

I said to Sim, “Leave it. It’s not worth it.” I could tell Sim fancied his chances.

He ran a hand over his hair, spattering rain like when you flicked the bristles of a toothbrush. “He’s got to walk away first.”

Hayley gave another tug on her boyfriend’s arm. “Nothing happened, Calum. God, I hate it when you get like this. Come away. Come on.”

“I came looking for you,” he said, his accent sounding thicker than any of the girls’. “Your dad said you were with Kat so I knew you’d be here.”

“See, she
is
with me,” Kat said. “And we
are
here. So why’re you getting your knickers all in a twist?”

Calum stuck a finger close to Sim’s face. “Because he’s here too.”

Sim looked like he wanted to snap that finger off at the knuckle.

“Come on, Sim. Leave it,” Kenny said. And then as if we hadn’t already noticed: “It’s raining.”

“I’m getting soaked,” Hayley said. She let go of her boyfriend’s hand and started walking away across the field, back toward the road. Kayleigh turned to follow, gesturing at Kat to do the same.

Calum swept a hand over his face to clear it of rain. Sim took a step toward him. I shivered in my sagging, wet and chilly jumper.

Kat gave Kenny a quick hug. “So wait for me, aye? I’ll come back tomorrow morning.” Then she went after her two friends.

Calum watched them go. Then said to Sim, “You’re a lucky boy.”

Sim narrowed his eyes. “You’re a chicken-shit.”

And maybe Calum would have swung for him then, but Hayley shouted, “Come away, Calum.” She climbed the gate to the road.

“Very lucky,” he growled at Sim, and at last followed the three girls.

He tried to swagger as he walked away, tried to look cool. He just looked wetter. The girls were waiting for him by the gate. He stopped halfway across the field and started to light a cigarette but struggled to do it and hold his torch at the same time. Hayley shouted at him to hurry up, then strode off down the road out of sight, her friends at her heels. Kat waved to Kenny once. Calum threw his soggy cigarette away, ambled to the gate and disappeared over onto the road. We couldn’t tell in the dark if he looked back at us or not.

“I could’ve had him,” Sim said. “Who did he think he was?”

“You were messing with his girlfriend. He’s kind of got the right to want to slap you.”

“What if he comes back?” Kenny asked. “With some friends?”

Sim didn’t answer. He snatched up his bag and the torch the girls had left, then stalked away toward the trees and the shelter of Tramp’s Hotel.

We pushed through the undergrowth to the derelict
cottage. I wanted to shine the torch around inside before we went in—just in case a tramp was already in there dossing down for the night. But Sim barged right on into the shadowy first room. He threw his bag on the ground and rummaged inside for a dry T-shirt. I went in after him, but made sure I had a good look around. Nothing seemed to have changed since we’d peeked in earlier—same leaves and mud on the floor, same graffiti-stained walls—but now the two doorways leading off deeper into the cottage were much, much gloomier.

I put on a clean T-shirt, gave Kenny my last one. He was kind enough not to say it was far too big for him, so I didn’t comment on how pleased I was to see the back of his orange monstrosity. We hung our wet clothes over our rucksacks in the hope they’d dry a bit. Kenny didn’t look happy being here. He jumped at his own shadow as Sim swung the torch around, then refused to turn his back on those two darkened doorways and sat facing them. Sim and I slumped down either side of him, leaning against a wall that crumbled like biscuits when you ran your fingers over it. Neither of us said as much, but I reckoned we didn’t like the idea of having our backs to the shadowy rooms beyond either. Sim put the torch at our feet, aimed to one side and casting the arc of its beam just wide enough for us to keep an eye on those doors in case someone came sneaking through.

Outside the storm went from blustery to nasty. Lightning
unzipped the night sky in Zorro slashes and let the rain streak down. We listened to it shake the trees and rattle the old roof, and were thankful the wind wasn’t gusting the rain through the open door. It would have been pitch-black without the torch.

At last Kenny said, “I need a pee.”

“Do it outside,” Sim growled.

“But I’ll get soaked again if I go out there.”

“And you’ll get punched if you do it in here.”

“But what if there’s someone out there? Hayley’s boyfriend?”

“He won’t come back in this weather.”

“What about a tramp, then?”

“Ask him if he’s got an umbrella.”

Kenny muttered but stayed where he was, deciding to hold it in.

“I could’ve had him,” Sim said. “I could, couldn’t I?”

“It wouldn’t have been worth it,” I said.

“Who did he think he was? It’s not like Hayley even let me do anything.”

I shrugged. “Who’d have thought Kenny would be the one to get lucky?”

Kenny grinned. “She’s coming to see me tomorrow morning before we go. That’ll be okay, right? I really do want to see her again.”

“As long as she gets here early enough. We can’t hang around.”

“I should’ve just asked him who the hell he thought he was,” Sim said. “He didn’t scare me.”

“It happened,” I told him. “Forget about it. Just one of those days. I get a poster of my overweight arse leaping off a bungee spread across the whole of Blackpool, you nearly get into a fight in a field in Dumfries, while Kenny falls in love with some mad Scottish bird. And all because we stole our best mate’s ashes. Like I said: just one of those days.”

Sim grunted half a laugh, but I could tell he was still boiling inside.

The wind in the trees was so loud, like an industrial roar. I began to wonder if we were about to see the end of Tramp’s Hotel forever—if, after all these years, the storm was going to peel the roof and walls apart.

“I’m really going to have to go,” Kenny said.

“So
go,”
Sim and I said together.

Kenny shuffled, fidgeted. “Can I have the torch?”

Again simultaneously: “No.”

Kenny swore under his breath but still stayed sitting.

“I hate backing down,” Sim said. “How many times have you ever seen me back down?”

“You didn’t back down,” I told him. “Not really. You were with his girlfriend. If it was the other way round, I wouldn’t have even tried to stop you.”