Skin Deep (16 page)

I looked at his mug. ‘What’s yours?’

‘Ginger. Wakes me up.’ He glared at his mum as she rummaged in a box beside her chair, but she paid no attention to him. ‘Are you hungry?’

‘No, I’ve had breakfast and Mum’ll have lunch ready when I get back. Honestly, sometimes I think all we do on Sundays is eat. I’m stuffed by bedtime.’

‘You can’t eat that much,’ he said, looking me over. I wasn’t sure whether to be pleased he didn’t think I was fat or worried he thought I was too skinny.

‘I do. I eat loads. But Mum’s into organic and wholefoods so it’s all healthy stuff.’

He nodded gloomily in sympathy.

‘Very wise,’ his mum answered, counting crystals out on to her lap. ‘Food can be our medicine or our poison –’

‘I’m going to show Jenna round the boat now!’ Ryan said, jumping up. We stared up at him and he shrugged. ‘She’s never been on a narrowboat. Jenna, bring your tea.’

I scrambled up obediently. He’d already moved off, expecting me to follow. His mum smiled a slow, secret smile and said nothing.

The kitchen was clever, so much packed into a small space, even a baby range cooker. Behind the kitchen was the bathroom, again minute, but somehow a toilet, washbasin and shower all fitted in. I noticed a razor on the shelf above the basin.
So he shaves
.

He showed me his mum’s bedroom next. The bedcover had a sunburst pattern of purple and black and chains of coloured crystals hung from the ceiling. Drawers and cupboards lined the wall at the foot of the bed, with more drawers beneath that.

‘It’s so smart, all this storage. I’d never have believed you could fit so much in a boat. What’s it like living here?’

‘Don’t know really. I’ve never lived anywhere else. I’d rather have your kitchen than ours though.’

‘No, yours is sweet.’

‘And yours is big.’

‘Big isn’t always best.’

He turned to me, smirking. ‘You sure about that?’

It took me a second to catch on. ‘Shut up! You know I didn’t mean that.’ I was beginning to think embarrassing me amused him.

There was no crystal in his room and the walls held crammed bookshelves as well as drawers. His bed hadn’t been made and the pillow still had a dent from where his head had been. He opened a drawer and grinned. ‘I can put a T-shirt on if you’re finding me distracting.’

‘You are so full of yourself. How do you fit your head through doorways?’

He chuckled and flopped on to the bed without bothering with the T-shirt. I turned my back on him and examined his bookshelves.

‘Are all these yours?’

‘Mostly. I nicked a few from Mum.’

He had a strange mix of books – paperbacks of proper grown-up books, books on boat engines, a huge stack of dogeared exercise books and old textbooks. Home school, I remembered.

I took a book from the top shelf. ‘
Slaughterhouse 5
– what’s this about?’ I asked, testing him.

‘It’s an anti-war book about the bombing of Dresden in the Second World War. The guy can travel through time and meet aliens and –’

‘OK, so you do read them.’ I put the book back.

He laughed. ‘No, I just read the covers and pretend.’ He stretched his arms above his head and cracked his knuckles.

‘Urgh! That’s horrible.’ I shuffled uncomfortably by the bookshelves, not sure what to do in such a confined space with him. He took up so much of the bed that if I sat on it I’d be touching him, and from that smirk, he knew he was unsettling me.

‘Do you want to see the engine room? It’s cramped and I have to wedge my bike in there, but you can stick your head around the door.’

Engines didn’t interest me, but anything to get out of this room before I flushed bright scarlet did, so I agreed.

He jumped off the bed and led me to a door behind his bedroom. I looked in at some machinery I didn’t understand and he put his head over my shoulder, pointing out . . . things. I couldn’t concentrate on what he was saying . . . something about the engine . . . because he leaned against me, his arm brushing mine as he explained the mechanics of the boat. The smell of oil and diesel didn’t cut out the smell of him, deodorant and ginger, warm and close.

He knew he was having that effect on me. I was sure of it. He was doing it deliberately to boost his ego, the big-headed pig.

‘I’d better go. Lunch will be ready soon,’ I said, abruptly bumping him out of the way.

‘Thanks for bringing my coat back,’ he said, following me back to the sitting area. I noticed how he flipped into edgy best behaviour the minute he was around his mum. It was so funny, seeing the childish side of him for a change.

She got up and pressed a necklace into my hands. Smooth shards of pink crystal intermingled with silver beads, and I realised she’d just made it. ‘For you,’ she said. ‘Rose quartz. For healing inside and out. The more you wear it, the better it works.’

I gasped – it was beautiful. I knew it’d cost a lot in a shop. ‘Oh, thank you, Mrs . . .’ I stopped – I didn’t know Ryan’s second name.

‘Karen, just call me Karen.’

I opened the catch and looped it round my neck. Ryan’s hand brushed the back of my neck to lift my hair out of the way. My skin hummed at the contact.

‘It’s lovely,’ I managed to say. ‘Are you sure?’

‘A friend of my baby is a friend of mine,’ she said, and I caught a flash of Ryan’s teasing eyes in hers, making them look similar for the first time.

He let out a loud huff of disgust behind me and stomped on to the deck to wait for me.

Karen laughed softly. ‘He hates me calling him that, so sometimes I do it to annoy him. I can’t stand men who take themselves too seriously so I’m not having him growing up like that.’

I thought of him lying in the horse muck and grinned back at her. ‘I think it’s working.’

She patted my cheek, the unscarred one this time. ‘Drop by any time. You’re welcome.’

Ryan was waiting on the bank and he handed me off the boat with a sheepish face. I pretended I hadn’t noticed his mini-strop.

‘If you walk the dog past here in the evening, call me. I’ll come with you if you like.’

‘Oh, it’s getting a bit dark down here by that time.’ I bit my lip, wanting to take him up on his offer, but not wanting to end up in the canal or lost in the willow copse. ‘I normally stick to the lanes.’

‘Doh!’ He slapped his forehead. ‘Of course. Have you got a mobile?’ I fished in the pocket of my jacket and pulled mine out. He took it and punched a number into my contact list. ‘There. Text me when you’re going out and I’ll meet you up at your gate.’

‘You’ve got a mobile?’

‘Jenna, I live on a boat not in the Outer Hebrides.’

I grinned. ‘Sorry. Actually they probably have mobiles there too.’

He laughed and then looked at me hard. ‘Are you still all right? About last night?’

And just when I’d talked myself into thinking he was a full-of-himself git, he had to go and pull that. I nodded, not able to meet his eyes, but not because I felt bad about stupid Ed.

‘Good,’ he said, ruffling my hair like Dad did to me and Charlie. ‘His loss. Go on, and think of me when you’re having roast dinner.’ He made his comedy sad face.

But there was absolutely no danger of me not thinking of him.

Fifteen minutes later I skipped back into the kitchen, pretty sure that no one had noticed I’d been out. Mum looked at me suspiciously for a moment, but then said, ‘Can you drain the carrots off? I’m nearly ready to serve.’

As I went to pick the pan up, the phone rang. I turned to answer it.

‘Don’t! Ignore it!’

‘Why?’

‘It’s been going constantly for an hour. I’m surprised you haven’t heard it. Nuisance calls. Drain the carrots, please.’

I took the pan off the hob, frowning. ‘What do they say?’

‘Nothing. It’s silent. So don’t answer it. It’ll only encourage them. It’s probably kids being stupid.’

Or Steven Carlisle and his friends.

Later we all pretended to watch the film on TV, except Charlie who really did watch it. Dad stared at the wall behind the TV, his face set hard. He’d unplugged the phone half an hour ago. Mum and I said nothing about it in silent agreement.

I looked out of the French windows. Beyond the garden, the fields and the copse ran the canal. I forgot about Steven Carlisle and disgusting Ed from last night and Dad’s anger and Mum’s worried face, and thought about Ryan.

Sometimes, I thought, a secret boyfriend, the kind you have only in your head, was the best kind. No worries over whether they liked you. In my imagination he’d always do and say the right thing. He’d think I was wonderful and perfect and beautiful and in my head it could never be awkward or embarrassing. He’d never make me uncomfortable or unhappy. He’d never break my heart.

I’d had several boyfriends like that in the last couple of years.

But now the boy in my head had Ryan’s face. His voice. His smile.

It couldn’t do any harm. It was only in my head and no one would ever know.

As I freewheeled down to the boatyard on Monday, Sadie walked out of the gates in her school uniform.
I groaned quietly enough that she wouldn’t hear me. She stopped behind the wall where her dad couldn’t see her and waited for me to pull the bike up beside her.

‘Hi,’ I said. ‘Did you get home OK Saturday?’

She dead-eyed me. ‘Like you care.’

‘You knew loads of people there. And your dad was picking you up.’

‘Did your little troll get home OK?’

‘Why are you so mean about her?’

She balled her hands into fists. ‘Are you going to apologise to me?’

After what she said to Jenna? ‘For what? Taking my friend home when she was upset?’

‘I meant what I said about dumping you.’

‘OK. I’ve got to go now or I’ll be late for work.’

‘You won’t have a job if I tell my dad about you.’

I
knew
it – that’s why she was here. ‘Go ahead, but I don’t think he’ll be too pleased with you either.’

‘What if I tell him you made me do stuff I didn’t want to?’

I stared at her. ‘Whatever, Sadie.’

Her eyes filled up as she realised I was never going to beg to get her back. She tried the waterworks instead. ‘Are you sleeping with her?’

‘What? No! She’s my friend and she was upset and I was looking after her – she’s only fourteen. You want to lie about me to your dad? You want to be that pathetic? Fine, get on with it. I’m going to work.’

I wheeled my bike through the gates away from her. When I parked it up, my hands were shaking. Would she go through with it or not? I wasn’t sure what was worse – the thought of losing the job or Pete believing her. It mattered what he and Bill thought about me. It mattered badly.

Beth glowered at me when I walked into the form room.
‘So? Are you going to tell me where you got to on Saturday? I was really worried and all you could do was send me two measly texts.’

‘I was kind of busy.’ I smiled apologetically.

‘How do you think I felt? The club was buzzing with it after you’d gone.’

‘Huh! I expect everyone’s heard about it by now.’

Beth bit her lip. ‘I think it has got round, Jen. Three people asked me about it at the lockers this morning. But really, everyone seems pretty disgusted with that guy.’

It crossed my mind I should be mad at Ryan. If he hadn’t hit Ed, nobody would have known about it except those rugby morons. But I just couldn’t be angry with him.

‘How are you anyway?’ Beth asked, scanning my face anxiously.

‘Fine.’

She stared hard at me and waited, then sighed and gave up. ‘OK, if you say so.’ She grinned. ‘Come on then, what’s he like – Mr Knight in Shining Armour?’

‘He’s just a friend.’

‘He must be a very good friend. He could have got his head kicked in.’

I laughed. ‘I don’t think he thought about that. He lost his temper.’

‘Did you go home with him?’

‘Yes, he lives near me.’

‘Oh, that Sadie was so steaming. You should have heard her.’

‘Serves her right. She doesn’t deserve him.’

Beth’s eyes widened. ‘Ooh, you like him!’

I sniffed. ‘So? Who wouldn’t? Don’t worry – he’s boxed in the gorgeous but unattainable compartment in here.’ I tapped my head with my finger.

‘He is lush,’ Beth agreed. ‘What’s his name?’

‘Ryan.’

‘Where did you meet him?’

‘Walking the dog. A few times. Just got talking, you know.’

‘Aww, he’s a sweetie to stand up for you like that.’

I giggled – I doubted he’d like being called a sweetie. It didn’t fit at all with his image of himself. I changed the subject and went on for a bit about how great Max was, which made Beth happy.