Southsiders (8 page)

Archie didn’t bother to swallow before answering, which just went to show that money and manners didn’t always live together in the same house. “There’s no way you’ll get away with this one, Jess.” A couple of crumbs flew from his mouth into the air. “You’ve got nothing else to sell and not even you can produce your parents for a meeting by next week. It’ll need a miracle.”

A miracle would have been nice. Talking of which, after a year of being totally ignored by Bonnie Bird, it seemed she couldn’t take her eyes from him since his recent string of absences. Either she knew something about what was going on or she’d finally come to her senses and decided that Jesse was the boy for her. Not only was she watching him all the time, she seemed to be finding any excuse to walk by the bench he sat on and each time she did, she got a little closer to the boys.

Her name was a standing joke in the school – what else could anyone do with it but laugh? She obviously had crazy parents, though to look at them they looked pretty normal. Happy even. And it suited her. She was about the prettiest girl in Edinburgh, or at least Jesse thought so. Her long, blond hair was always straight and perfectly brushed and her blue eyes seemed to have special powers, like they were looking beneath the skin or something. As if that wasn’t enough, she stood a head taller than anyone else at Preston Street, which meant she was always visible no matter where she was in a crowd.

She walked past the boys again and, as soon as she was out of earshot, they continued their conversation.

“There’s not much chance of a miracle, I’m afraid. What do you think I should do?”

Archie finished the chocolate, screwed up the wrapper and put it into his pocket. When he’d done, he pulled out an envelope and passed it over. “Twenty quid. I took it from my mum’s purse this morning.”

“Cheers, mate.” A hug was out of the question, so a wink did the job instead. “I appreciate it.”

“You think you’ll get taken into care?”

“I’m not letting that happen again. Remember when they sent me off to those foster parents?”

“The time your mum stabbed your dad?”

“Aye. It was a nightmare. They made me say prayers before eating. Even at breakfast. And there was a mad girl there who spent all her time rocking backwards and forwards and wouldn’t close her mouth when she ate. Disgusting.” He winced at the memory of it all.

“Good job your dad said it was an accident, wasn’t it?”

“Otherwise they’d still have me on my knees praying for my soul.”

Bonnie had been looking out of the school gates, but whatever it was that had caught her interest must have gone. She turned to start another of her circuits.

“She’s coming round again,” Archie said. “Think she’ll actually stop and talk this time?”

Much as Jesse hoped so, he didn’t dare tempt fate. “Nah.”

“Never mind.” Archie took a packet of gum from his coat pocket. “I’m cutting down on the sugar before Christmas. Fancy a stick?”

Jesse took a piece, unwrapped it and chewed. The mint freshened up his mouth and set him talking again. “So what am I supposed to do? Go and live on the streets?”

“I hear London’s full of them.”

“What?”

“Streets.”

“No kidding. And they’re made of gold, right?”

“Platinum. And it’s warmer down south.”

“I’m not going there. England’s no place for a Southsider.”

“What about the treehouse?”

Archie had a treehouse at the bottom of his garden. At least that’s what they called it. It was more like a posh shed and it had almost as much floor space as Jesse’s flat. It had a rope-ladder all the way to the base and was out of sight of the main house.

“Are you serious? That would be amazing. But it would still be cold, right?”

“And you’d have to keep it dark in case anyone noticed.”

“It’s hardly luxury, then.” Archie wrinkled up his nose when he heard that, as if his feelings had been hurt. “Only kidding. I love the treehouse, you know I do. And it’s nicer than my place. It’d be boss if you’d let me.”

Archie’s face loosened and he returned to chewing. “Course. It’s what friends are for. I’ll bring a key tomorrow.”

“Cool. So all I need now is a way to make some cash.”

Archie nodded over to Bonnie who was back at the school gate. “You’ll just have to get a job mate.” He stood, punched Jesse on the shoulder and set off. “I’ll leave you to it for a while. Maybe she’ll bite if you’re on your own.”

He was obviously right. No sooner had he moved a few steps away than Bonnie walked over in the straight line that had eluded her since lunch. She swished as the arms of her coat rubbed against her body. It was a nice sound, one that set Jesse’s heart racing.

She sat down in Archie’s place and crossed her legs.

Neither of them spoke for a while and the only thing that came from their mouths was the mist of their breath.

In the end, it was Bonnie who broke the silence. “You going to the disco on Friday night?”

“I might be.” He hadn’t decided, but the idea of turning up at school when you didn’t have to seemed completely crazy.

“I am.”

He knew that already. There was little that Bonnie got up to that he wasn’t aware of. And he happened to know that she was going with Todd Bentley. “I heard.” He was trying to act cool, but could feel the flush in his cheeks from the thought of Todd and Bonnie together and the flutter in his chest that seemed to be caused by the piercing look of her shiny, blue eyes.

“Do you want to chum me?”

Jesse’s body jolted upright as his reflexes gave him a reminder that they still worked. “What about...?” The question didn’t seem to have an ending that he could put his finger on.

“Todd?”

“That’s it.”

“Todd Bentley’s got a new nickname. Toad. As in ugly, warty frog.” Her lips had straightened and her canine teeth poked their way into view. “Ugly, warty bastard.” The words hissed from her like she’d been punctured.

“Tell me something I didn’t know already.” Not that Todd was ugly. In fact, he was the kind of kid you’d see on adverts for clothes and hairstyles and healthy cereals.

“So will you?”

It wasn’t that he was playing hard to get that he hadn’t answered earlier. It was more like his body hadn’t really recovered from the shock. This time he got the words out. “Course. I’d love to.”

Bonnie Bird stood up and allowed herself a smile. “Then I’ll be seeing you.”

Archie was over by the bins watching it all happen, his hands buried in his pockets and a smile on his face that was bigger than Fife.

When Bonnie got up to leave and the school bell rang, Jesse ran over to his mate and jumped onto him, nearly knocking the poor sod over.

“Jesse Spalding!” Mr Clegg’s voice growled over the malaise that was the end of lunch crush. Not even Clegg’s roar could wipe the smile from Jesse’s face. He looked over to his teacher and waited to accept whatever punishment was coming his way.

––––––––

T
heir third night out this week. Their third different hotel. Either Cliff and his bit of skirt were doing a great job of keeping their affair secret or they were managing to spread the word with amazing skill.

This time they’d gone for the Travelodge, which might have saved them a bob or two but did nothing for adding atmosphere or culture to the experience of hanging round in the bar. Ray had seen more interesting-looking waiting rooms than this place. The chairs weren’t comfortable enough for a bar and the bright orange colour scheme probably had the same effect on drinkers as a load of artificial food additives. A snug this most definitely was not. The few strings of tinsel and a pile of mince pies under a glass dome did little to add any festive cheer.

Ray sat waiting for his drink, his fists tight as knots and the need for a cigarette bigger than it had been since he first quit. He watched Cliff chatting to the barman, a young Polish guy with spikey brown hair and a silver stud shining from just above his upper lip. They were laughing about something or other and the only bit of the conversation Ray managed to pick up on was ‘keep the change’.

There was that wink again when Cliff returned to the table. The guy could bullshit for Ireland. Ray wanted to knock seven shades of the stuff from his friend’s body. Shut that eye permanently to stop it from closing all the time. Most of all he wanted Cliff to stop treating his wife this way. She was a gem. A kind and beautiful woman who’d slipped off the tracks for a while when the baby came along. As far as he knew, she’d done nothing to deserve this kind of treatment. A man like Cliff needed to spend a couple of weeks with Paula to find out how the other half lived. If nothing else, she’d have him learning the true meaning of ‘under the thumb’.

The thoughts were messing with Ray’s head. A swirling mix of Paula and Izzy, of Jesse and Rose and the craving for a smoke had him needing to grab hold of something concrete to focus on. He chose the bottled Czech lager in front of him. Before pouring it into the chilled glass, he rolled the bottle around his forehead and felt it cooling his mind.

“Here’s to the newest employee of Belfast’s jewel in the crown. Cheers, mate,” Cliff said, the wink providing a kind of full stop to the toast.

“Cheers.”

They clinked bottles and drank from them.

The suds settled Ray down as he paid attention to them slipping down his throat and lowering his temperature. He took another gulp before stopping to pour the rest of the beer into the glass.

“Don’t worry. We won’t be kicking you out straight away. You can stay with us for the first month or two, no problem. As long as you can get your arse out with me for a drink a couple of times a week, we’re even.”

It made Ray feel like a prostitute, putting it like that. Reminding him that he was selling his soul for services rendered. The beer fizzed in his stomach as if it wanted to return to sample a little more of the Travelodge’s great atmosphere.

The phone on the table did a little dance. “There she blows,” Cliff said. “Bang on time.”

Ray wanted to smash the phone. To club it with the empty bottle in front of him the way hunters used to do to cute, furry seals. To watch the electronic guts of the thing spill out of the case and dribble down onto the cheap red carpet tiles.

“Back in a couple of hours,” Cliff said “You should bring a book to read or a paper or something. It’d do you good to take your mind off things.”

Ray didn’t say anything. Imagined rolling up the proposed newspaper and shoving it where the sun would never shine. Watched as Cliff hurried out towards the lift in the reception area.

When Ray was alone, the swirl in his mind picked up again like an early breeze warning of an impending storm.

Truth was he missed Paula. The way she shielded him from the outside world and made sure he knew exactly where he stood. When she was around, everything was black and white. Or at least black and blue. However bad it was, he wished she’d been there with him so he could buy her a beer. Would enjoy the early stages of her drunk before the balance tipped and the tidal wave of anger and malice took over. She’d have told him what to do and have made him do it. She might even have done it herself. He imagined Cliff in one of her headlocks. Saw her pulling at his hair and rubbing her knuckles into his skull. Smiled at the thought. “Get out of that, you fucker,” he said.

The barman looked over. Raised a pierced eyebrow and got back to drying off the glasses in a way that most likely left smears all over them for their next customers.

Ray downed his beer in one. Stood up and strode over to the exit, eager to get back to his new home.

*

W
hile he walked through the warren of terraced houses, each street looking much like the last, he thought about Jesse.

He was a good lad. Had managed to do well at school in spite of everything at home. The boy deserved a chance in life and there wasn’t much likelihood of him getting that if Paula was the only one raising him. He might not even get to live to be a teenager if she carried on along the path she’d been treading. It would be a murder of sorts, no matter how things turned out. Either she’d kill him when she was on one of her drunken rants or she’d kill off every bit of potential the boy had.

It was while Ray took a shortcut down the ginnel that took him back to Izzy and Rose’s house that the idea struck him. He’d go back to Scotland. Pick up his son and maybe even collect the bag while he was at it. The thought of the bag had him reaching into his jacket to make sure the key was still hanging around his neck. The feel of the metal in his fingers relaxed him and he got back to planning. He’d ask Izzy about it later on, whether it would be OK for Jesse to come over and share the room with him until they found their feet.

When he got to the front door, he thought about returning to the hotel to be there when Cliff came down, all scrubbed and showered after sex as usual. If he was there, he could keep the boat steady. Avoid the iceberg as it were. Make sure Jesse would be welcome.

Still, he was there now and the urge to see Izzy and to protect her was greater than anything else he was feeling.

He put the key into the lock and turned it quietly so as not to wake the baby.

The light was off in the entrance and he had to feel around for the handle of the lounge door. An advert blared out the benefits of having fibre in your breakfast cereal and daring him to eat three. He was pleased that Izzy might still be up and about.

There she was, kneeling down in front of the gas fire that looked like burning coals. There was a green towel over her lap and she was drying her hair with a white one. Between the two towels she wore nothing.

The hollows beneath her long neck looked deep enough to collect little pools inside when she showered. Her breasts stood small and proud, with soft pink nipples that were perfectly in proportion. Her ribs were visible as though they were steps to guide his fingers up and down her body and her waist was tiny and trim even this soon after giving birth.

Ray let his gaze settle upon her face.

She was looking right back at him, watching him study her fine cheek bones and her deliciously pale eyes.