Seven Days (3 page)

My phone is ringing again, buzzing gently on the bed beside me. I ignore it. Why doesn’t she ever get the message? Maybe I should just answer and scream “la, la, la” at her. That would shut the stupid cow up. I’ve been awake for about an hour already and I feel like I’ve barely slept at all.

Marnie is sitting by her mirror, carefully inspecting her reflection. I think she’s looking pretty rank actually; she’s been wearing too much foundation lately – not that I’d dare tell her that. I watch as she smothers more on, a kind of orange glow coming from her face.

“Your mum?” she says, not turning around.

“Yeah.” I reply, willing the screen to go blank. Finally it does and the room is silent again. I realize I’ve been holding my breath.

Marnie’s room is in the biggest state ever; she actually keeps her entire wardrobe on the floor or stacked on her desk chair. When she shared it with her sister it used to be more organized, but since Jodie has moved away the whole place has pretty much exploded. At least Jodie’s bed was clean; I’m not good with manky sheets. I always get an itchy, grossed-out feeling if I see a speck of dirt.

My mobile buzzes again. Mum just won’t go away. She’s obviously in that sort of mood. I open the text message reluctantly.

We need 2 talk. U can’t keep stayin out all night.
Nxt time I’m callin the police.

Yeah, right, she wouldn’t dare call them. Not unless she wants the social sniffing around.

“She’s not happy,” I tell Marnie, “silly cow. I told her I was staying here. She’s probably forgotten and is freaking out.”

Marnie shrugs. “She knows where you are. She’s just stressing.”

“It’s not my fault she doesn’t listen.”

The phone buzzes again in my hand. If I didn’t need it so much, I’d lob the stupid thing against the wall.

2night we’re talkin. The 3 of us. Get it?

“Are you ready yet?” I bark at Marnie, stuffing my mobile into my bag. Mum can buzz me all she likes in there, I won’t hear it. I’m certainly not going to answer her.

“I guess. I look so rough though,” she moans, pulling down one of her eyes. “Look, it’s all red. I’m gross. Crap! I hate Mondays!”

“You just need sleep. Talking about Ben all night was probably a bad idea.”

Marnie sticks her tongue out at me and we both giggle. Across the hall I can hear the clatter of pans and the gushing of a tap being turned on.

“Mum’s up then. Shall we grab some breakfast?”

I’m not hungry, but I get up to go with her. My body aches and my tongue is furry and fat in my mouth, like a giant moth. As I pass her mirror, I see my pale ghost-like face staring back and it surprises me. Huge dark bags ring my eyes and my skin looks as dry as tissue.

I’m looking more like her. Like Mum. I turn quickly away, hating the way that makes me feel.

Marnie lives in a block of flats right on the corner of the Macmillan “Mac” Estate. She’s in Block B, a huge tower that is only overshadowed by its slightly darker cousin, Block A. Last night, we climbed up on to the roof. It was amazing just to see the entire town spread out beneath us like a giant kids’ play mat. I could’ve stared for ages at the bright twinkling of the cars – tiny red dots moving away from this rat trap of a place. I don’t hate the Estate; in fact it’s probably my favourite area to be. I find it hard to describe why, but there is something free and honest about the Mac. No one is pretending to be what they’re not; unlike the rest of this town. I honestly feel like I’m slowly suffocating at home. One day I’ll get away. I always promise myself that.

One day.

Marnie likes living on the Mac. It’s just her and her mum, Julie, and they get on pretty well. Julie is lovely. She works in the pub across the road and has a laugh that could wake half the street. She’s so laid back, she’s practically horizontal. She even turns a blind eye to Marnie smoking.

Julie throws a tenner at Marnie now, and kisses her on the cheek. “Get something nice for lunch,” she says, all the time smiling in my direction.

It’s weird but I kind of go awkward around Julie, as she sits there in her silk dressing gown, long bronzed legs spilling out. Marnie and her mum have such a good relationship, they’re like mates really. I guess it’s where Marnie gets her confidence from. Nothing fazes Marnie; I’ve never seen her upset or hurt – I swear she must be rock solid inside. That must be a good feeling.

“How’s your mum, Kez?” Julie asks. She’s not eating, just flicking through some magazine. She stops at a true-life story about some woman’s arm getting trapped in a McDonald’s drive-through. “My God, did you see this? She was only buying an Egg McMuffin – poor thing!”

“Er, gross,” says Marnie, screwing up her face. “Do you have to show me that when I’m eating?”

“Sorry, darling.” Julie throws the magazine on the floor. “People have such tragic lives, don’t they? So how is your mum, Kez?”

Julie is smiling sweetly at me and I try not to let my hackles rise. She’s not the type to wind people up. “She’s fine,” I say, sipping the orange juice that’s been poured and trying to ignore the feeling of guilt that’s building up inside me. I know Mum will be worrying, which isn’t fair on her.

“And Dad? He’s OK too, is he?”

I glance quickly at Marnie – has she said anything? But she just shrugs and carries on nibbling her toast. She has a lost look on her face and I know she must be thinking about Ben again.

“Yeah, fine,” I reply. I know part of me is shutting down. I don’t want to be questioned. I concentrate on picking my nails, hoping she’ll get the message.

“Has he got a job yet? I know it’s tough,” she says, running her long, freshly polished fingernail over the rim of the cup. “He’s in the pub an awful lot though, isn’t he?”

I stand up. It’s more dramatic than I mean it to be and the chair scrapes loudly on the floor. Marnie looks up, ready to say something. Julie is blinking quickly, her mouth flapping open like a dying goldfish.

“We’re going to be late,” I say instead. “Thanks for letting me stay last night, Julie.”

Julie nods stiffly. “It’s my pleasure.”

I pick up my bag, hugging it against my body, and leave the room. My coat is in the hall. I pull it down from the hook with clumsy fingers. The whole flat seems suddenly small and I need fresh air – big, fat gulps of it.

I move back down the hall to see if Marnie is ready – and as I do I hear hushed voices in the kitchen.

“… I was only saying…” (Julie)

“Well, don’t. She doesn’t need it.” (Marnie)

“Poor cow, I was only trying to…”

I walk back into the room, enjoying the look on both of their faces as they attempt to act all innocent. Marnie’s burning red cheeks tell me that she knows she’s been caught out.

“Let’s go,” I say brightly. “We’ve got stuff to do.”

We walk quickly across the street and take the shortcut through the park. It’s not much of a play area really – two swings and a chipped climbing frame – but I guess it’s something. The kids use the area to skid their bikes on, or to play footie on the worn-out field beside it.

When Lois and I were younger, we used to lie flat on our backs on the patchy grass, circling the mud with our fingers, looking up at the sky and trying to make pictures with the clouds. Every time, without fail, I could see a man with a long nose. Funny, if I look up now it’s just balls of fluff, no shapes at all. I always preferred coming here, being out in the open space. Anyway, it’s not like I could bring Lois back to mine. It’s been a very long time since my place has been “welcoming”.

Of course, Marnie wasn’t with us then, just me and Lois. In those days it was just us two, almost daring ourselves to be up close to the Mac. It intrigued us, like some kind of foreign land. We longed to fit in with the kids there. But of course, Marnie would never have done anything naff like just staring up at the sky. She would’ve been bored in seconds. Marnie was probably born cool.

“Why the hurry?” Marnie is trailing a bit, fiddling to do her coat up. “Are we meeting Lois at school?”

“Yeah, I guess so.”

“So why were you in such a rush to get out?”

“I didn’t like all those questions. I felt like I was back home.”

Marnie snorts. “You should’ve just told her straight. Mum wouldn’t have minded. She’s a nosy cow sometimes.”

“Yeah, well. It’s done now.”

There is another reason for me making us leave, and as we head through the gate and across the dried-up field, I can see that my efforts aren’t wasted. Lyn is standing with a bunch of his mates at the back of the shops. I know that he meets them there, usually to exchange fags that they can sell to the Year Eights later.

Marnie suddenly wakes up. “Oh, of course.”

Me and Lyn have been going out for a few months now. It’s been going really well, but I still get the feeling that Lyn doesn’t want things to get too full on. He doesn’t like clingy girls. He’s one of those laid-back types, where you never quite know what he’s thinking. I just constantly hope it’s about me.

“I didn’t know he’d be here,” I say casually, smiling inside.

“Yeah, right.”

Marnie nudges me, grinning. She’s just spotted Ben sitting on the wall. She really thinks she stands a chance with him, even though he’s currently been on and off with some posh kid from another school. I really don’t see what the attraction is. Ben has that shaggy kind of hair that always looks a mess. And he’s much shorter than her (and she’s short!). She’s obviously got bad taste. The other boys – Joel, Dean, Sean and Callum – are all in Year Eleven too. I don’t really know them; they all tend to blend into the same person – loud, sarcastic and flirtatious. Only Lyn is a bit different. He has that kind of vibe that means he doesn’t need to follow others.

Lyn seems to sense us as we draw close and turns slowly. He wears the school uniform like a model student, yet it always looks so sexy and cool on him. His black hair is cropped short against his dark skin, and his eyes are the warmest brown I’ve ever seen, like chocolate cake. So gorgeous. Sometimes he actually takes my breath away.

“Kez,” he says, “nice surprise.”

“I stayed at Marnie’s last night.”

Lyn nods. He sees that as a pretty normal thing. One of the few things he knows about me is that I sometimes need to escape. I hang out with Lyn here, at the park, by the flats, quieter moments by the lake. I could never take him back to mine.

He reaches out and touches my cheek, which is a rare public sign of affection. I can feel my whole body tingle with excitement. I bring my hand up to touch his, longing to hold it there. He rests his arm casually over my shoulder; I can feel the warmth move through me. One of his mates, Joel – I think – sniggers, but I ignore him. Idiot.

“I was talking to the boys about my party on Saturday. You girls coming?” Lyn says.

I didn’t know anything about a party. I try not to look too blank or too keen. “Might do, not sure.”

Marnie steps up beside me. “Sounds cool. Who’s going?”

“Pretty much everyone. Dad’s away for the night, so the place is ours.”

It would’ve been nice if he’d asked me privately, away from everyone else. Is it too much to want to be treated differently by him? Like someone special? I think of our private times when it’s just us; huddled under the slide, kissing, walks along the Estate with our hands locked together. Why does he still not treat us like a couple all the time?

“We’ll go, won’t we, Kez?” says Marnie, nudging me.

“Yeah, of course,” I say, trying to look casual. “C’mon, Marnie, let’s go. We’ll be late for Lois.”

I shrug off Lyn’s arm and as he turns to face me, I snatch his cigarette. I don’t even like them much but I quickly stick it in my mouth, knowing his lips have just been pressed around it.

He grins back at me and I think I die a little.

Lois meets us by the school gate. As soon as we walk up the road, it’s clear she’s annoyed about something. Lois has never been very good at hiding her feelings. I’ve known her for years now. When she’s wound up, her face becomes pinched; it makes her look hard, scary even. The thing is, she’s really pretty – like, stop-the-traffic pretty and she knows it. The confidence just spills out of her. I can imagine her being a model or an actress, splashed all over a glossy magazine. If she wasn’t my friend I’d probably hate her.

“Lo! What’s up?” Marnie is in her face straight away.

Lois just stares. She has her phone out and is texting someone. I’m not sure who. Hannah, maybe. Those two have been hanging out together more lately.

“You OK?” I ask her. My tiredness has turned into a full-blown headache now and I want to get inside and take something for it. A jug full of pills.

Lois raises her eyes. “Yeah, sure. I’m OK.” She sighs, and hitches her bag up on her shoulder. “I just thought – well, that we were meeting at yours last night?” She is looking at me and immediately I feel a stab of guilt. Yeah, she was meant to come to mine. Watch a DVD – chill out. I totally forgot to cancel it.

“I’m sorry. Did you show up?”

My heart is beating fast now. Please tell me she didn’t.