Skin Deep (24 page)

‘Ryan works at the marina in Whitmere,’ Jenna said from across the kitchen.

Her mum gave me another of those smiles, more forced this time. ‘Is that where you live, Ryan?’

‘Um, no, I, er . . . live in Strenton at the moment.’

Her eyebrows shot up and I looked at Jenna. Help! What should I say?

‘Ryan lives on a boat on the canal with his mum. She makes this incredible jewellery. I bet you’ve seen it – it’s in all the craft shops in Whitmere. She made that pink necklace of mine.’

‘A boat? Oh, that’s unusual.’ Her smile became so fixed, it was nearly a grimace. She and Jenna locked eyes as the kettle bubbled to a boil. ‘The necklace . . . yes, it’s lovely. Your mum must be very clever.’

It was my turn to do the grimace-smile.

Jenna made the coffee and we watched her to cover the silence. She brought the mugs over, grinning as if we were all the best of friends.

‘So where did you two meet?’ Mrs Reed asked Jenna, giving up on her attempt to get me to talk.

‘Walking the dog. Ryan was washing the boat windows.’ She giggled. ‘Raggs knocked his bucket in the canal.’

‘That dog!’

Say something, stupid
. ‘He just wanted to say hello. He didn’t mean any harm. He got excited.’

‘Yes, he does tend to.’

Jenna’s mum sipped her coffee. I could see she was trying to figure out if we were just friends, or more. Jenna, the evil little witch, put her hand over mine and squeezed.

Mrs Reed’s face didn’t flicker, but I could almost see the cogs in her brain whirring at warp speed.

She put her mug down. ‘What film are you going to see?’

‘Ah, er, it’s sort of a surprise,’ I said.

Wrong move – her eyes got a hint of ice in them.

 ‘It’s a PG,’ I added quickly. ‘It’s the one she keeps going on about –
Touchdown Angels
.’

Jenna bounced in the chair. ‘Brilliant! I told you, Mum, Beth went to see it with Max last week and she said it was great.’ She looked at me. ‘Ryan, are you sure? You’ll hate it. He’s as bad as Charlie, Mum – likes those things with heads being ripped off and monsters and –’

‘It’s OK, I’ll live.’ I looked at her mum. I could’ve been wrong, but I thought she’d thawed slightly.

‘Have you got enough pocket money left? I can give you an advance,’ she said to Jenna.

‘Oh no,’ I cut in. ‘I’m paying. I asked her.’

‘But aren’t you going for lunch too?’

‘Yeah, but it’s fine. I’ve got enough from my wages.’

‘Is your boat anywhere near the bridge, Ryan?’ Mrs Reed asked, suddenly changing the subject. I nodded. ‘I can’t believe what’s happened. That’s a terrible business.’

‘Yeah, it happened quite near our mooring. The police are still up there, which is good because my mum’s on her own. I hope they get the guy soon.’

She shivered. ‘This has always been such a safe place to live and now . . . I don’t know. I heard his head was caved in, that it was beaten repeatedly on the bridge wall until he was dead. How could anyone do that? I can’t take it in.’ Mrs Reed looked at her watch. ‘I’ll pop up and let my husband know we’re going. He’s having a lie in – not feeling too well. You two finish your coffee.’

The second she was out of the kitchen, I glowered at Jenna. ‘I can’t believe you did that!’

‘What?’ She gave me the big blue eyes, all wide and clueless.

‘You know exactly what.’

She giggled. ‘Look, it was going to come out after you told the police. You know what it’s like round here.’

‘You didn’t have to do it like this.’

‘She was more likely to be all right about it once she’d met you. It worked.’

‘No, it didn’t. She doesn’t like me.’

Jenna stopped grinning and leaned over to give me a quick hug. ‘She does. She’s surprised, that’s all.’

‘She doesn’t. She thinks I’m . . . I’m . . .’

‘Rubbish! Mum doesn’t think like that. She just worries way too much since the accident. She’ll be completely fine when she gets to know you.’ I obviously didn’t look convinced. ‘OK, if you don’t hear shouting in about one second then she hasn’t told Dad about you, which means she’s more than halfway to liking you.’

‘Oh great, so now your dad is about to boot me out of the house.’

Jenna listened. ‘I don’t think so. It’s very quiet up there.’

Feet sounded on the stairs and Jenna’s mum returned. ‘Ready?’

I stood up. ‘Yes. Thanks for driving us.’

‘No problem.’ She smiled at me.

‘Told you,’ Jenna whispered as we left.

Mrs Reed kept up the Spanish Inquisition all the way to the cinema.

‘How old are you, Ryan?’

‘Sixteen.’

‘Oh, I thought you were older.’ She smiled at me in the mirror. ‘I expect that’s because you’re tall. You’ll just have left school then.’

‘Um . . .’

Jenna rescued me. ‘He didn’t go to school. His mum taught him at home.’

‘Really? I watched a documentary on the home school movement a couple of weeks ago. It’s very big in America apparently.’

Jenna smirked at me. ‘Ryan’s mum’s a vegan.’

‘Oh!’ Her mother’s face lit up and I got interrogated on vegan lifestyles for the next fifteen minutes.

We stopped at a garage to fill up with petrol and Jenna was sent inside to pay. While she was gone, her mum glanced at me in the mirror and said, ‘This is the first time in months I haven’t seen her nervous about going out in public.’

I got the feeling the maternal ice caps had melted a bit more.

Jenna’s mum dropped us outside the cinema and we waved to her as she drove off. I felt like an idiot doing that, but I thought it’s what I should do. As soon as the car was out of sight, I put my arm round Jenna and slumped on her shoulder in relief.

She laughed and shook her head. ‘Didn’t you dare do that in front of Mum? Wuss!’

‘Shut up, I’ve not forgiven you yet for pulling that stunt on me.’

She wound her arm round my waist. ‘Where are we eating?’

I looked round. ‘Frankie and Benny’s?’

I hid a grin as we walked over because she chattered away at me, still so full of it over wrong-footing me with her mum that she forgot to notice if anyone was staring at her. Like the only person she noticed was me.

She liked the film; I didn’t. But I held her hand all the way through it, cringing to think what Cole would have said if he could see me. When I was thirteen, he’d come home with a bunch of red roses for Mum. She glowed when he gave them to her and I laughed and made retching noises. Cole shoved me on the head and said, ‘You wait until you meet a girl you like. You won’t laugh then.’

Turned out he was right.

School on Monday was foul.
Everywhere I went, people stopped me to talk about the murder. Word had got round fast and I couldn’t get down a corridor without being mobbed. Stupid questions, stupid gossip. Beth and I hung out in the library at lunchtime where they couldn’t hassle me.

I was glad to get home again, though the village was still bustling with policemen doing door-to-door enquiries. The school bus dropped me and Charlie off, but as we got to the fork in the road, I took the lane towards the canal instead of home.

‘Where are you going?’ Charlie called, and then I heard his feet scampering behind. ‘Jen? Hey, Jen!’

I kept walking. ‘I want to see where it happened. I don’t know why, but it’s something I have to do.’

‘I’ll come with you.’

‘No, go home.’

‘I’ll come with you,’ he said firmly.

I looked down at my little brother, treading determinedly beside me, his face set into a protective expression. Charlie could be so unpredictable. He wasn’t a great talker, unless it was about football, and most of the time he was just an obnoxious, accident-prone little brat. But he had those other moments, like when I was in hospital and he brought me a pot of hyacinths he’d bought with his pocket money. I thought it must have been Mum’s idea, but she was as surprised as I was.

I slowed down as we got to the bridge. Blue and white crime-scene tape stretched across the lane blocking it. A police car was parked over the bridge on the other side of the tape and a man in uniform was standing in the road. He eyed us as we approached, but made no move towards us.

There were marks on the tarmac where the body had been. A chill crept over my skin as what had happened finally felt real. I’d hated Steven Carlisle for so long, but now . . . now, as I pictured his body lying there . . . the hate sizzled and burned away. It left a hollow behind it, an empty space where all that feeling had been.

What had gone so wrong? It all used to be easy and peaceful here, then one night, one stupid mistake, and we were all still paying for it. Not just me, all of us, and our families. The chill crept deeper and I shivered.

Charlie tugged at my arm. ‘Come on, Jen. Let’s go home.’

I looked a moment longer and I realised part of me was sorry Steven was dead. Maybe part of him had been sorry about everything too. Yes, maybe he had been sorry about Lindsay, but he couldn’t show it, like I couldn’t show strangers how much them staring at me hurt, and Ryan couldn’t show how he sometimes hated being the grown-up for his mum. Maybe Steven wasn’t really that different to us. Maybe he hid feelings too. Strange how that was easier to see with him dead.

Dad’s car was on the drive when we got to the house. I frowned – why was he home so early?

There was no sign of him or Mum as I unlocked the front door. Charlie spilled past me into the hall, dumping football kit, trumpet case and school bag on to the floor.

The study door was closed. He went to turn the handle, but I seized his wrist and pulled him back.

‘Ow! Cow!’ he squealed, rubbing his arm. He glared at me as if I’d betrayed him for his support at the bridge.

Mum opened the door. She started to speak, then stopped and frowned at Charlie. He took a step back.

‘What did you just call your sister?’

‘She hurt my wrist.’

‘You do not use language like that in this house, young man. Take your things up to your room now and get on with your homework.’

Charlie gawped, but even he could see the lines of strain on her face and the red rims of her eyes. Her mascara was blotched on her cheek where it’d run and she’d wiped it away.

My brother picked up his kit and went upstairs with dragging feet.

I waited until he’d gone.

‘Mum?’

‘Dad was called into the police station from work. They needed him to give a DNA sample and make an official statement. He’s only just got home.’ Exhaustion oozed from every word.

‘Is he OK?’

‘He’s . . . he’ll be fine. He’s in here. Just needs a little while to himself. Have you got homework?’

‘Yes.’

‘Go and do it, there’s a good girl. I’ll . . . I’ll call you when dinner’s ready.’

She turned and went back into the study and closed the door in my face.

After a moment, I heard her crying.

Jenna took some convincing about going to the Bonfire Night thing in Whitmere.
She didn’t think she should be out watching explosions when it was all imploding at home. I talked her round in the end by telling her we should take Charlie along – the kid needed to get out too. It sounded like it was Stress City in her house. As her dad didn’t know about us yet, and Charlie had threatened to tell, I thought keeping him sweet was a good idea. When we got there, he hooked up with some kid he knew and Jenna let him go as long as he didn’t wander too far. He muttered something about not staying here and watching us slobbering on each other, then slouched off. I’d been ten – I got it.

We watched a firework explode into red and gold and silver sparks, lighting up the Mere and the faces of the crowd. There was a bang and then another starburst, this time blue and purple.

Jenna wriggled against me.

‘You cold?’ I whispered.

‘A bit.’

I unzipped my jacket and pulled it as far round her as I could, then I rested my chin on the top of her head.

A series of loud cracks: one, two, three . . . and a fizzing fountain of white against black sky . . .

‘Brilliant fireworks,’ the girl next to me said.

I smiled and nodded – it was Jenna’s friend, Beth, the girl from the Rugby Club, so it was sort of important to make a good impression. Jenna said I didn’t have to double-date if I didn’t want to, but I could see she did and her mum was happier if there was a group of us. It was only twelve days since the murder and she was still shaky about Jenna and Charlie being out after dark.

‘There’ll be a second display later,’ Max said. ‘After they’ve lit the bonfire and burned the Guy. They save the best ones for last.’

‘Great.’