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Authors: C.J. Skuse

BOOK: The Deviants
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Two more bars of Dairy Milk, a shared pack of Smokey Bacon, a Go Ahead and a flick through two
OK!
magazines later, and Corey appeared again. I nudged Max next to me; he'd fallen asleep. Corey had plastic gloves on. There were streaks of blood on them.

Max and I both stood up and waited the agonising moments it took for him to reach us. He could barely speak. He could barely breathe.

‘Fallon let me cut the cord. She's wonderful.'

*

Fallon looked knackered when we walked into Room Five; her hair was all electrocutey with sweat. Rosie was holding the baby, her face full of joy. When we came in, she handed her back to Fallon and went out, muttering about tea.

‘Mum's a bit emotional,' said Fallon, cuddling the little girl close to her. ‘What do you think of her then? She's not too ugly, is she?'

‘I don't know how you did it. You were in so much pain,' said Corey, poking his finger inside the baby's fist. She clung on tightly.

‘She's so cute,' said Max, peering over to look at her.

I went round the other side of the bed where there was more space.

‘Yeah,' said Corey. ‘She is. Fallon's, like, a warrior queen or something. I swear to God, I'll never know how you did that.' He was looking at Fallon in complete awe.

‘Me either!' Her face brightened. ‘Labour hurts a lot though. I thought I was coming apart at the seams at one point.' She looked at me. ‘Do you want to hold her, Ella?'

‘Me?' I said.

‘Yes.' She smiled. ‘Go on.' She began handing the baby over to me and I took her, worrying immediately that she might cry in my face. But she didn't.

‘You don't have to ask to hold her, you know. You're practically her auntie now. And you two are her uncles, no question.'

‘We're not related, Fallon,' said Corey. ‘How can we all be aunties and uncles?'

‘Because I said so.' None of us had any argument against that. ‘Besides, she doesn't have anyone else. I don't have any brothers or sisters. I just have Mum. The baby needs a family.'

I understood now how new parents could spend hours
just looking at their babies. For what was basically just a pink blob with creases for eyes, she was fascinating. Every movement was delightful; every eyelid-flicker, every mouth-twitch was an event. Her little chest going up and down against the white blanket she was wrapped in. Her contented little mouth, like a sugarless Jelly Tot. The wisps of perfect brown hair, sprouting out all over her scalp. Suddenly, I was crying myself. I was crying more than Fallon.

‘Aww, Ella.'

‘You're so brave, Fallon. Look at her. She's great. And… Oh no.'

‘What?' she said. ‘Oh God, what is it? Is something wrong with her?'

‘No, I've just noticed – she just looks like Zane.'

‘Oh God, don't say that,' said Max, coming over to have a closer look at her. He could see it too then – the shape of her eyes, the colour of her hair. They even had the same nose.

Corey came round to look too. ‘She does as well. Ella's right.'

‘God, sorry,' I laughed, still crying freely. Unstoppably. ‘I don't know what's come over me.'

‘So this is Number Five, then?' said Max.

‘Huh?' said Fallon, wiping her eyes.

‘We're the Fearless Five, aren't we? Now we're complete.'

‘Oh yeah,' said Fallon. ‘I don't want to call her Timmy though. She doesn't look like a Timmy. I've no idea what to call her. We've looked through all the names, haven't we?' Corey nodded. ‘I'd originally thought it was going to be something like Hermione or Ginny. But looking at her now, she doesn't suit those names.'

‘Even though she is quite magical,' said Corey, beaming. Fallon nodded and let out a massive yawn.

‘Aww you're knackered,' I said. ‘We'll leave you for a bit to have a kip.'

‘No, please don't,' she said, even though she was fighting against her eyelids. ‘Just stay with me. I like you all being here.'

So we stayed. We sat around her room, taking turns to hold the baby and nip out to make hot drinks and phone calls. When Max had gone outside for a cigarette and Fallon was asleep, Corey turned to me.

‘Do you know what you're going to do then? About Shelby?'

‘Yeah,' I said, looking down at the sleeping baby in my arms. ‘Yeah, I think so.'

‘And what was that?'

17

Five Go Adventuring

I
wanted to trash her birthday party; the big shindig Neil had paid for her at Michaelmas Manor that Saturday night. But this time, it wasn't going to be a Fearless Five thing. It was just a ‘me' thing.

Days passed and I said nothing to the others about my plans. Fallon came out of hospital and Corey left home to go and stay with her for a bit, leaving a note for his soon-to-be-returning grandparents on their coffee table.

We carried on hanging out together, watching Netflix or playing video games. We ate out at Subway or Costa and took turns cuddling the baby. I trained with Pete and gave the punchbag a daily pounding. My body grew tighter with the effort and my arms stronger and harder at the top. And silently, I thought about my plan.

Operation Zane had been given a rest for a few days, so the man of the moment could freak out sufficiently, but I for one didn't want to wait any longer. One drizzly lunchtime I made Max drive us to the seafront. He parked up by the pavement opposite the jetty and they got three cod lots and curry sauce from Cod Save the Bream. The smell was glorious as they sat merrily stuffing their faces and making
om nom noises as the baby snoozed soundly between Fallon and Corey in the back. I was too nervous to eat.

‘Are you sure you don't want a chip, Ella?' Corey offered.

I bit my fingernails. ‘No thanks. I'm fine.' Max was looking at me, his gaze unbroken by my staring back at him. ‘What?'

‘Are you gonna do it then or what?'

‘I'm waiting for him to come back.' I took the note out of my pocket and smoothed it over my knee. ‘I can't post it while he's out; what if his mum reads it?'

Max moved his chip bundle to the dashboard and started chewing his thumbnail. I could smell the shampoo on his still wet hair from football that morning.

I turned to face the two back-seaters, jaws chomping together. Corey sneezed and a little gust of chewed up fish cake flew straight into the back of Max's headrest.

‘God's sake!' he shouted, grabbing the tissue box from the footwell by my feet and chucking it into the back. ‘Clean it off, now.' Fallon was wetting herself, probably literally thanks to her knackered fouf.

And while all that commotion was going on, I cleared the windscreen with the chamois leather and I saw a figure coming along the pavement.

‘There he is!' I cried.

Zane was fumbling in his XXL Hollister coat pocket for his keys and unlocking the door of their flat. Max flicked the ignition over, releasing the windscreen wipers.

I started to open my door. It was raining blades outside so I hitched up my hood and tied it tight to my face.

Max leaned over my seat. ‘He goes for you, just run and don't stop. We'll stay here with the engine running. All right?'

I nodded. I was shaking but determined. My fire in my
belly would help me, like it always had. I stood on the pavement, dazzled by the street lights and Amusements sign across the road. I made my way along the pavement towards Walker's place.

Over the sea wall, the tide was in and I could hear the waves crashing and retreating, crashing and retreating. It was a dark day and there were lights on the water, a couple of fishing boats. The Fun Pub was pulsing with some sad Eurotrash techno pop and a couple of Primark models were smoking cigarettes against a Postman Pat ride outside the arcades. I carried on walking and I didn't look back.

I stopped outside the gate. A light was on – it glowed either side of the thick curtains in what I assumed was the front room. I heard Max's engine revving down the road.

This was Walker. The Big Pig. Cat murderer extraordinaire. He was going to get his. The note would make sure of it.

Without another thought, I yanked open the gate, ran up the path and pushed the note through the brass letterbox, but the box was heavy and my hand got stuck. I yanked it back out so hard my scabby knuckles scraped against the metal and all the scabs tore off at once. I legged it back up the path as fast as my feet would take me. All I could hear was the clank of the letterbox behind me – the clank that said ‘Job Done.'

As I was locking the gate, I looked up, I don't know why, and the bay window was different. The curtains were open. And Zane was standing there looking out. Standing there, looking at me. Not coming to get me. Not reacting at all.

I think I knew then that we'd broken him.

18

Curious Discoveries

‘N
eed to talk about it?' asked Pete, letting go of the bag and sitting down on the bench. ‘About what?' I said, concentrating on softer jabs.

‘We're friends, aren't we?'

‘Yeah.'

‘Friends listen to each other's problems and help them find solutions.'

‘I don't know what you're on about,' I said, even though I knew
exactly
what he was on about because it was cutting me to the bone.

‘If your problem is the reason you run, if that's what's giving you the fire in those legs and those fists, then I'd rather you didn't run any more. I'd rather you stopped and faced it. I'd rather you were OK up here than fast down there.' He tapped the side of his head. He stood up and walked back to me, holding me on either side of my arms. His hands were warm. ‘I just want you to be mended.'

I stared into his eyes. They were so kind. I stared at his lips. I had no words to answer him but I had the sudden urge to kiss him. So I did.

I put my hands either side of his neck and, before I could
think, I moved closer and pressed my mouth against his. I trusted him. I trusted him not to hurt me. I wanted him to love me and teach me to how be a lover without being afraid of it.

But he immediately pulled back.

‘What the hell are you doing?' His face had changed, in an instant he was someone else. The kind understanding had gone, washed away by disgust and anxiety. He held me by my triceps again but this time firmly away. Arm's length.

‘I don't know, I wanted to see what it was like.' The embarrassment was cocooning. I was covered by it. ‘Oh God, I'm so sorry. Pete, I'm so sorry.' I fumbled out of my gloves and ran towards my bag on the floor by the door.

‘Ella, stop.'

‘I'm sorry,' I said again. ‘I don't know why I did that. I'm messed up. My friend's just had a baby and, ugh, I'm sorry all right? I don't know why I did that.'

I fumbled my rucksack onto my back. My hands were shaking.

‘Ella, look at me.' He came closer. ‘Ella.'

‘You must think I'm repulsive.'

‘LOOK AT ME.' I turned to look at him. I couldn't meet his eye. ‘Come here.' He held out his hands. ‘Come on.' I shook my head. ‘You are never going to feel any different until you confront that fire and put it out.'

Water filled my eyes and he became blurry. I turned away, fumbled with the catch on the garage door and yanked it up and over my head, emerging again into the dazzling sunlight, but, as I pulled it back down, I lost my grip and it banged down hard onto my face. I yowled and stumbled against the cottage wall, pain radiating out from my mouth, pulling down a clump of ivy and climbing roses. I sat on the path, blood dripping from my nose.

Pete came jogging out to me and started to help me up. ‘Come here, let's have a look at it. It's all right, it's all right.' He led me back inside and guided me towards the kitchen, sitting me down at the breakfast table. ‘Hold this against it.' He handed me a wad of kitchen roll.

‘I want to go home,' I sobbed, snatching the wad from him and holding it to my mouth. I thought of Corey and me in the girls' toilets on the last day of term. What a mess he had looked. Now I was the mess.

‘I can't let you go home like this. I need to check nothing's broken.'

After much coaxing, I took my hands away from my throbbing face and he held my head and looked at me, gently pressing against the side of my nose. He got up and went over to his fridge freezer, pulling out a new bag of frozen peppers and wrapping them in a clean tea towel. He left it to one side and came back over to look at me again.

‘Is it still bleeding?' He guided my fingers to the part of my nose just above my nostrils and told me to pinch it. ‘Lean your head forward. OK, stay like that, all right?'

I sat watching him, my hand cupped beneath my face as the blood
drip drip dripped
into my open palm. Salty tears had mingled with the blood in my mouth.
Drip drip.

When the bleeding had finally stopped, he handed me the frozen tea towel. ‘Hold this against it. It'll help with the swelling.'

I stupidly thought we were done talking. That this was our new focus. But he wouldn't put it down.

‘You need to talk to someone, Ella. I don't care who. Whatever it is you're hiding can't be kept hidden any more. Look what it's doing to you. I don't care if it's me or your dad or a doctor. Just talk. Let me see.' I moved the frozen tea
towel away from my face. ‘That looks nasty. You're going to need a plaster on it. Stay right here, OK?'

As he vanished back out into the garage, I put down the tea towel on the sideboard, grabbed my bag and swung it onto my back, heading through the living room to the front door. I clicked the latch and sprinted back down the lane as fast as I've ever run before. I knew he couldn't catch me. Nobody could.

*

My face was a mess. I told the others I ran into a lamp post on my way home. Max was the only one who didn't believe me. He wanted to know why I'd been running full pelt from Pete's house in the first place and kept picking at the fact like a scab. I just kept changing the subject. Then Corey suggested a Call of Duty marathon and he seemed to forget about it for a bit.

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