Roadkill (LiveWire) (4 page)

Ashley leans in and squeezes my arm gently, face still frozen in grief, “Do you want us to walk you home?”

Stung, I snap that I’m fine and actually off to Leo’s. Which makes me seem even more like piqued toddler. Nice one Caz. They exchange glances.

“What? Do you two have a problem with that?”

“No. Just be careful Caz. Are you going down the park tomorrow?” Weird, if I didn’t know better I’d say Matt was checking me out. And be careful; please! I could find my way around here blindfold. The Estate might be dodgy but it’s not inner city.

I remember that tomorrow is a big skate competition and all the Estate will be heading down to check out the talent.

“Are you both competing?” For some reason, and it’s not the heat of the night, I feel my face burn, and stumble shyly over my sentence. I wipe my sweaty palms on my shabby blue jeans.

“Ash is, and I’m going to make up the numbers,” Matt smiles, and nudges his mate “Can’t win with the pro team heading the line up!”

A glimmer of a smile and Ashley’s eyes soften a fraction, “Crap! You could beat most of them there.”

“Not you?”

“Whatever!” He almost laughed.

In the face of their easy teasy friendship I feel uncomfortable, like a gooseberry. The feeling is not new. That was how I first hooked up with Leo. I was tagging along with Rose and a big group of her friends for a night out. Everyone was nice to me but only, I see now, because I was Rose’s sister. She was like a shooting star, taking me with her on a glittery trail. Then the star went out and I lost my taxi ride through life.

Matt asks me again where I’m headed, and just nods when I say Leo’s. I have noticed blokes aren’t really keen to get to know Leo, but he says it’s just because they don’t understand him.

The boys are showing no sign of moving off, so I make as if to walk down the road, muttering about being late, when Matt says, “So how did you and Leo meet?”

I am surprised at his interest, “At the fair, you know that crap ‘Peter Loomers Star Attractions’ that was here last winter.”

“I don’t remember seeing him,” Ash wrinkles his forehead, puzzled. His phone beeps, and he glances quickly at me and turns away, talking urgently. Far below us I hear a lorry rumbling to a stop in the lay-by. Another late night driver pulling over for a kip.

“I was away for the half term. My uncle lives near Geneva, so I got some snowboarding in. Did I miss out?” He is teasing, and very close in the darkness.

I stutter, telling Matt it was a dirty cheap place filled with stalls of rubbish toys, popcorn, candyfloss. All the things kids love, but which lose their gloss when you get older. Rose, Ashley and couple of others hit the Big Wheel, the rickety roller coaster, anything to get their adrenalin fix. I was lagging behind, trailing the glamorous, screeching group. So my big sister called me a wimp and I stood there, gripping the safety barricade as the others took off into the sky, screaming and whooping. I was forgotten, and I felt pretty much as bad as I ever have. Obviously I don’t tell Matt this bit, but he smiles, like he guesses.

“So I did miss out. You and me could have done the ghost train!”

I laugh, but he tells me to get on with how I met Leo. I’m still not totally sure he’s interested, but Ash is gabbling into his phone and I am enjoying myself.

“We were both in the queue for the Big Wheel, and we just, you know, got talking,” I smile, remembering.

I don’t admit to Matt that I was delighted to find a fellow ‘wimp’ and even Rose yelling  “Hey my little sister’s pulled!” as her noisy entourage tumbled off the ride, couldn’t dent my evening.

It was amazing how much Leo and I had in common, how much we had to talk about; music, films, politics, even my secret love; art. By the end of the night I lost count of the number of times I said “Yeah, me too!” I knew right away I had found a soul mate.

“So we’ll see you around yeah?” Matt smiles, at the end of my, okay, a bit overlong explanation. Ash has finished and is already texting someone else. I am dismissed.

For some reason I almost want to cry. Awkwardly I bid the boys goodbye, avoiding Matt’s eyes, and head once again for my best friend’s flat.

He’s not home, which is bloody rude. Okay I don’t generally visit on impulse, and I did say I wasn’t coming out tonight. But I am unreasonably let down, and unsettled by my meeting with Matt and Ashley. Leaning in the shadows of the communal entrance, I tap out a text;

At yours – where r u?? xx

Although I hang around like a loser for about twenty minutes, there is no response. It occurs to me Leo’s mum is probably in bed, and maybe Leo is asleep too. Or out with a boyfriend. The thought pops uninvited into my head, and I shake it away, and wander slowly back through the Estates, skirting the worst block of flats, with its murky stairwells full of dealers and losers. My best friend lives on the wrong side of town.

Leo’s place is one of the newer apartments, and probably bigger than my whole house. But still, who would want to live sandwiched between a dodgy backstreet garage, and a smelly ‘fight club’ style gym? According to my mum it’s an ‘up and coming’ area but if you ask me they need to bulldoze most of it.

A group of lads tumble from a side alley, bottles clinking, drunken laughter echoing off the high narrow walls. It is very dark now, and I instinctively short cut through houses, leaving the scowling blocks of flats and breathing easier in the maze of identikit brick houses. If Rose was here she’d suggest a trip over the bridge to the local pub; The Sunburst. I haven’t got any close girlfriends, and of course Leo fills the best friend gap nicely, but I didn’t realise how much I depended on my sister for girly chat, for well…..stuff. There is a great big hole torn inside of me and I don’t know how to deal with it. And it hurts.

Tears are falling as I let myself carefully into our house. Shut up! I tell myself fiercely, sliding upstairs and creeping along the landing past Mum’s bedroom. Garry’s big shoes are neatly paired outside the closed door. Yuck. Then I freeze, stifling sobs, and dragging a hand across my snotty nose; classy me.

A sound is coming from Rose’s bedroom, soft and painful like a wounded creature. Much like the noise I’m making I guess. Carefully I inch along the wall, knocking my shoulder on Dad’s smiling face. Rose’s door is half open, and moonlight suddenly drenches the large room in a milky haze. The springs shift on her bed, and for a tiny second I know it is all a mistake and my sister has come home.

Of course she hasn’t. My mum is hunched on my sister’s duvet cradling one of Rose’s sparkly T- shirts. Squinting I can see it’s the
pink one with FALLEN ANGEL spelled
out in sequins. It was her favourite
,
and looked amazing with her dark hair and golden tan. I just burn in the sun but Rose got that even sun kissed glow without any trouble.

But I’m only thinking this to distract myself from my mum grieving over her child. You are not meant to outlive your kids. Screwing up my courage I tell myself now is a good time to try and help her. Do it! I tell myself, but my feet stay locked to the carpet, and a thump of size fourteens (probably) is Garry galumphing along the corridor to give his own brand of comfort. So I stay by myself in the shadows, running shaky fingers along the picture frame behind me.

She sniffles into his huge shoulder, and I catch a snatch of conversation, my name and a question. Years of practice and I’m in bed apparently fast asleep when she creeps in. Gentle, cool fingers rake my hair back and I inhale her flowery scent. A splash of wet on my hot cheek, and mum hastily creeps out again. Her bedroom door closes and they murmur in the moonlight.

I curl into a tight ball, one finger tracing the scar on my wrist. The tears have stopped and I feel empty, aching and empty.

Chapter Five

T
he nightmares are worse tonight.
Rose is jumping off the bridge, shadowy figures holding ropes shout at her to do it, and I scream at her to come back. She laughs and leaps into space. When I wake I am soaked in sweat and shivering. My retro alarm clock informs me its 5am. Crap! At least it
’
s summer and the sun sparkles through my half drawn curtains. No sound in the house, but somewhere outside two dogs are having a fight, growling and barking like random werewolves.

My pictures of Rose are arranged carefully opposite my bed, including the model picture. I took that from her room yesterday.

“Morning sis,” I say groggily and catch myself. Crazy cow talking to ghosts.

My phone has four messages, all from Leo, apologising for missing me last night. He was so tired, he says, he crashed out by ten, and only just woke up. He was looking at LiveWire again, and has something to tell me…..

A gentle knock on my door is Mum, and I smile tentatively, even though I know she hasn’t even opened it yet. Mum is a bit like a female version of Leo really, he even said he might want to do Biochemistry at university. That’s where she started out, before she became a Very Important Scientist working for the government. Plus she has that magic sixth sense, meaning she can read our minds. Which, as I’ve said before, can be bloody annoying. But she’s so brave, and strong, despite her pale, elfin appearance.

It’s kind of funny, I think watching her put a mug of tea on my chest of drawers, tensing as usual as I force myself to be nice….and normal. Funny that Rose looked just like dad, and I am pretty much a carbon copy of Mum. Right down to the red hair.

“I was worried last night Caroline. Where did you go?”

“Just Leo’s. I saw Ashley too,” making it sound like I was hanging out with friends rather than pounding the streets alone.

“That poor boy. I told him at the funeral….,” for a second her voice falters, “I told him at the funeral he was welcome here anytime.”

I gather towels and some clothes, “Mum I’m meeting Leo at the park, I need to get going.”

She lingers, fiddling with a silver necklace. New, I note with interest. No way she’d have bought it for herself so it must be an offering from Garry.

“Sweetheart you do like Garry don’t you? Because if you would rather he didn’t stay over for a while longer we would both understand.”

Surprised, I digest this while I grab my toiletries, and wind up annoyed again. ‘We’ would understand is like the whole loony bin thing; everyone understanding, watching me, treading on eggshells. I don’t want everybody stepping round me like I’m unstable and about to se
lf destruct. The scar was a one-
time thing. The Vultures have never let me forget it.

“I don’t want him to keep being so nice! He doesn’t have to, and it winds me up. I get that you two have a relationship, have sex….,” (she winces) “…and it doesn’t bother me. What I want is for everyone to stop asking me if I’m okay! I AM FINE!” Before I know it I’m shouting.

She just stands there, twisting the necklace, looking sad. I walk out, showering furiously, ignoring Garry when he asks if I want breakfast, if I’m okay, and slam the front door.

Heading down the road, I start to cool down, realise I am way too early to meet Leo, and curse Mum and Garry for driving me out when I wanted to check LiveWire again. Unlike my best friend I do not carry my laptop at every available opportunity. Bugger.

Mr Watts at number ten is washing his black fiat. He trots carefully round to the other side, directing the hose with concentration, scrubbing the wheel arches. Rubbish car like that, why is he bothering? Kids are spilling out onto the road carrying bikes, footballs, skateboards. In the distance The Road is humming like a furious insect, busy with families desperate to get a day at the beach, oblivious to the fact they will actually spend more of their time in a bumper to bumper gridlock. My flip flops slap a furious tattoo on the dust choked pavement, and I pull out my phone;

‘Going to be early, meet you at Ratz’

Although, I could quite easily pop into town and hit a few charity shops, for some reason I just can’t do it by myself. How pathetic is that?

I’ll get some coffee and find a good seat to watch the competition, and when Leo comes he can tell me his grand discovery. Ratz is a shabby coffee place that blares loud R ‘n’ B 24/7. The drinks are cheap and they do great burgers. Of course to get to the park I have to cross the bridge. Which I will do this time without keeling over like a wimp. Tossing my still wet hair back, I stride towards the crossing. The huge ancient oak trees cast shade bars over the path. Their glossy dancing leaves whisper encouragement. My heart beats faster, sweat starting again, even though I am dressed in shorts and another of Rose’s vest tops, and the sun is still a gentle early morning glow.

‘R u ok ova the bridge want me 2 walk u?’

‘no thanx x’

Because, you see, this time I have help. As I step onto the bridge, firmly averting my eyes from the rushing cars, focusing on the blue dog poo bin on the other side, I pull out a small photo. Me and Rose messing around in a booth, her arm round my shoulders, chin on my head, smiling protectively. Our long hair tangled red and black.

“So I found this add on for the site,” Leo is breathless with excitement, watching me expectantly as we hunch over his laptop.