The Nothing Girl (8 page)

‘And besides …’ but she stopped there. Even Aunt Julia couldn’t bring herself to mention the most important reason I shouldn’t marry him was because of the scandalous link with her daughter. I saw her lips move, but she just couldn’t get it out.

Russell watched her struggle for an interested minute and then said brightly, ‘Oh, none of that is really a problem. You’ve obviously forgotten Jenny and I have known each other off and on for about fifteen years now. She’s been at Frogmorton this last fortnight, helping with the painting and what-not, so she’s got a pretty good idea of the state of the place. And frankly, Julia, I can’t see there would be any problems with her living quietly in the country, happy and busy and most importantly, included.’

‘Are you telling me she’s been
working
there? For two weeks? You’ve been making her work?’

‘Well, you’re hard to please. First you’re peeved because you think we’ve hardly met and now you’re all bent out of shape because we have. You need to make up your mind, Julia, so we can move on.’

Aunt Julia made a valiant comeback. ‘Her doctors …’

‘Oh yes,’ he interrupted. ‘I knew there was something. Jenny, I’m sorry. Another reason I was late is because I was on the phone to Peter Westall. You won’t know him, but our mothers were pretty good friends and so are we. Anyway – Julia, you’ll be thrilled to hear this – he’s one of the leading authorities in his field and he’s promised to see Jenny very quickly if we care to make an appointment. I think it would be quite useful to get Jenny checked out by someone with fresh eyes and ideas and get his recommendations, and then we can all rest easy knowing that Jenny is benefiting from top-notch expertise. What do you think?’

She still wasn’t giving up. ‘I have always had complete confidence in her current –’

‘I’m sure you have,’ he said, smiling at her. ‘And the Jenny we see today is a testament to your care for her.’

There was something going on here.

‘
No, I’m all at sea, too,
’ said Thomas.

‘Right, well, if that’s it then we’ll be off. We’re meeting my cousin and his friend for a meal. Do you fancy a trip to the cinema, Jenny? There’s some sort of Chain Saw/Zombie/Vampire/Creepy Psychopath thing on. Or Hugh Grant, of course, if you prefer,’ he said, catching a glimpse of my aunt’s face.

She opened her mouth.

‘Let it go, Julia,’ said Uncle Richard.

‘But …’

‘That’s enough.’

‘Lovely to have met you again,’ said Hurricane Russell, ushering me out of the door. ‘Get a warm coat, Jenny, it’s cold outside. No idea what time we’ll be back. Do you have a key?’

I shook my head.

Wordlessly, Uncle Richard opened a drawer in the little hall table and handed him one. It was that easy.

Russell handed it to me.

‘Here you go, Jenny. Don’t lose it. I’ll get you a key ring. You’ll need keys for my place – sorry – our place as well. What a lot there is to think about. My head’s whirling. Bye.’

He slammed the front door behind us.

‘Well, he said, climbing into his diseased Land Rover. ‘That went well.’

We pulled out into the road to the alarm of a passing white van. There was hooting.

‘
Look on the bright side,
’ said Thomas. ‘
The way he drives, we’ll all be dead long before he can marry you so none of this really matters.
’

We clattered down the High Street. Watching normal people doing normal things was somehow reassuring. Gradually I felt the tension drain away, leaving me sick, tired, and weak.

‘I’m going to drop you here,’ he said. ‘Get us a table in The Copper Kettle and I’ll park this beast. I’ll be with you in five minutes.’

He pulled over and it seemed to me there was less outraged hooting. Maybe I was beginning not to notice it either.

He drove off.

Thomas and I stood on the pavement and drew breath. ‘Do you think this is how it’s going to be from now on?’ I asked him.

‘
With a bit of luck. Shall we get out of the rain?
’

We ducked into The Copper Kettle and only when I was actually in there with the smell of fresh ground coffee all around me did I realise how much I was gagging for some tea. I stood at the ‘Please wait here to be seated’ sign. And stood and stood. All the waitresses seemed to be busy doing something at the other end, although at this time of the day and the weather being what it was, the place was almost deserted.

I stood for a long time. Beside me, Thomas shifted but said nothing. Occasionally, one of them would glance over and there would be giggling. I felt my face grow hot. Time passed.

‘
Stand your ground,
’ said Thomas.

‘Why?’

‘
You’ll see.
’

‘I don’t need any more grief today.’

‘
Just wait and see what happens.
’

More time passed. I didn’t know whether to just go and sit at an empty table or what. I looked around the room. I could sit anywhere, but the board said to wait. On the other hand, I’d just fought a great battle. Well, I’d stood to one side while a great battle was fought on my behalf, but I had been on the winning team, so …

‘Why are you still standing here?’ said Russell, bounding through the door at the speed of light. He looked down to the clump of waitresses at the far end. Seeing him, one of them detached herself and came up to us, a practised smile on her face.

‘Welcome,’ she said to him. ‘This way, please.’

He didn’t move. She repeated herself a little more loudly. Finally, he seemed to see her.

‘No, not you,’ he said, and I gasped. He looked over her shoulder. ‘Hey, Sharon.’

A very pretty, very plump girl came out from round the back of a screen. I guessed she was the most junior member of staff and, as such, would be doing most of the work.

‘Hello, Mr Checkland,’ she said, shyly.

‘Hello there, how are you? Jenny, this is Sharon. She’s Mrs Crisp’s niece.’

We smiled at each other. Her face was beautiful with huge brown eyes and blonde ringlets. Her teeth and skin were perfect. But she was a large girl and her hips bumped some of the tables as she passed. One of the girls laughed. I watched her blush painfully and decided I would never come here again.

‘The staff here are hopeless,’ said Russell, and the waitress’s smile abruptly disappeared. ‘Can you find us a table please, Sharon?’

‘Of course,’ she said and led the way to the one in the window. She produced menus as we got settled. Russell ordered tea. ‘Teacakes. Plenty of them. And when we’ve finished those, we’ll want to have a look at the cake trolley, please.’

She scribbled, smiled beautifully, and walked away, knocking against a chair as she went.

‘
What a lovely girl,
’ said Thomas. ‘
The face of an Irish princess.
’

I looked at him in surprise.

‘
I met one once.
’

‘So,’ said Russell. ‘How do
you
think it went?’

‘Peter Westall is a hairdresser, isn’t he? Or a chain of chemists. Or something you spray on athlete’s foot. You made him up.’

He just laughed again. I obviously wasn’t going to get an answer. Maybe it was best I didn’t know. Plausible deniability.

Sharon brought our order and Russell set to as if he hadn’t seen food for days instead of a couple of hours.

I drank my tea, got a refill, nibbled a tea cake, had another, and allowed myself to be tempted to a strawberry tart.

‘Afternoon tea,’ he said. ‘Best meal of the day. Everyone has happy memories of afternoon tea. Nothing to beat it after an emotional day. Do you want that cream slice?’

I shook my head and then he had a custard tart as well. I looked at his long, lean body and pondered yet another of the world’s injustices.

He looked up and the bill materialised seconds afterwards. He pulled out his wallet and said to Sharon, ‘Do you pool your tips here?’

She shook her head regretfully. She was at the bottom of the food chain, tip-wise.

He settled the bill and then stood up, ostentatiously holding a £20 note between his long fingers. ‘Thank you,’ he said. ‘Excellent service.’ She went red with pleasure and gratification and tucked it safely away.

He helped me on with my coat and made his usual dash for the door. Another waitress, maybe hoping for a generous tip herself, opened it for him.

He lowered his voice but I heard him quite clearly. He said, ‘Don’t ever ignore this lady again,’ and the harmonics in his voice lifted the hairs on my neck. And then he was out of the door and striding down the pavement.

I stood in the rain and watched him go. People scurried past, heads down against the rain. Everyone was eager to get home. Shop lights were reflected in the glistening pavements. I suddenly felt more alone than I ever had in my entire life.

‘
Tell me,
’ said Thomas, quietly.

‘It’s all right for him. He’ll go back home to Frogmorton at the end of the day but I have to go back to Aunt Julia and Uncle Richard and I’ll be alone.’

‘
No, you won’t. You’re never alone. I’ll be with you. I’ll help you think what to say and protect you while you say it. We’ll manage, Jenny. Just like we always do.
’

‘Nothing’s actually changed, though, has it? I’m just going to be overlooked by a whole new set of people. I’ve burned my bridges for nothing.’

‘
I doubt your aunt and uncle will say anything to you tonight. And possibly not tomorrow either. And here he comes. Wonder how far he got before he realised he’d lost you.
’

Russell and I looked at each other in the rain.

‘Are we having our first row?’

I shook my head.

‘Are you having second thoughts?’

‘
Tell him,
’ advised Thomas. ‘
This is normal. The two of you need to establish ground rules. He’ll stand up for you and protect you and kill dragons for you, but he won’t always know that sometimes, he’s the dragon.
’

He pulled me gently out of the rain. ‘What is it?’

I marshalled words. ‘I’m leaving the … safety and security of my home for a whole new world. I have just put … my entire future in your hands and I’m frightened.’

He said nothing. Oh God, had he changed his mind? Cars swished past in the rain. Hardly anyone was about now. Thomas moved to my side, standing really close for reassurance.

‘Do you want me to take you home?’

Did I? At that moment, my attic room felt pretty good. Thomas and I could watch a little TV, argue over the news. I could make some hot chocolate and go to bed and listen to the rain on the roof.

‘
And tomorrow?
’ said Thomas. ‘
What will you do tomorrow night? Watch a little TV, drink hot chocolate, and go to bed? Of course, it might not be raining, so that will be
different
, won’t it?
’

‘Thomas, I don’t know what to do.’

‘
Then go to the cinema. Even if you do change your mind, at least we’ll have seen a film and we haven’t done that for ages. Let’s at least have a night out and we’ll decide what to do in the morning.
’

‘I’d like to go to the cinema.’

‘Then you shall,’ He pulled my arm through his and we set off, albeit at a slower pace. ‘Are you feeling a bit overwhelmed?’

I nodded.

‘I should have realised. But listen, Jenny, you must speak up. I’m selfish and I’m not bright. You need to tell me things. Please don’t be one of those awful women who expect me to guess what’s wrong and then sulk when I don’t.’

Francesca? I wondered.

‘
Just what I was thinking.
’

I nodded. ‘All right. I promise to complain … bitterly at every opportunity.’

‘That’s my girl.’

Tanya and Andrew were waiting in the foyer, arguing about which film to watch.

‘Jenny?’ said Russell. ‘It’s your night, you choose.’

I chose the Chain Saw/Zombie/etc. film to the instant approbation of Thomas, Russell, and Tanya. Andrew wanted to see something with sub-titles. We stared at him in disbelief.

‘What?’ he said, ‘Unlike you troglodytes I have intellectual depth.’

‘No you don’t,’ said Russell. ‘You have the intellectual capacity of a small rock. You’re a Checkland. I won’t have you sullying the family name like that.’

Russell bought the tickets, Andrew bought the popcorn and in we went. I sat on the end, next to the aisle. Thomas stood next to me. I watched his face in the flickering light. He thoroughly enjoyed every minute. I occasionally felt guilty about him. I didn’t get out much, so neither did he.

Russell ate all his popcorn and most of mine.

I stared at the screen and worried.

Chapter Four

Russell was hungry again after the film. We stood and they argued over Indian or Chinese, settling on Chinese, which had the advantage of being just around the corner. They bickered amiably amongst themselves as we ate. I nibbled bits of this and that. Thomas wandered around looking at the décor and the other diners, obviously determined to extract maximum enjoyment from our night out. The most exciting bit however, was yet to come.

There was a toast to our future happiness. Tanya wanted to see the ring. Andrew wanted to know when. And where. We were obliged to disappoint both of them.

Andrew sighed and pulled out a notebook. ‘We’ll make a list.’

‘I am very sorry,’ said Tanya. ‘I have told him this is not acceptable behaviour in public. Usually he only does this in the privacy of our home. I am mortified.’

‘So,’ said Andrew, unheeding. ‘Rings. Register Office. Flowers. Guest list. Reception. Honeymoon. Pay your vet. How much of this have you actually already organised, Russ?’

The silence spoke for itself.

Russell roused himself to sudden activity. ‘Right. Jenny. You, me, tomorrow, buy rings, make an appointment at the Register Office – we both have to go. Do you want flowers? I’m a bit skint at the moment.’

I opened my mouth.

‘No, it’s a generous offer, but I’ll pay for our wedding. If you want to, you can buy your wedding dress, but that’s it. OK?’

‘I was going to say I don’t want flowers.’

‘Oh. Well. That’s OK, then.’

‘I have a very good idea, Jenny.’ said Tanya. ‘On Friday, my day is free. If yours is too, would you like to shop for your dress? We can make a day of it with lunch as well. There will be no men. It will be a very nice day.’

‘
Can I come?
’

‘Of course you can.’

‘Yes,’ I said gratefully to Tanya. ‘That is a very good idea.’

‘How can it be a very nice day,’ objected Andrew, ‘if I won’t be there? On the other hand, of course, Jenny – sensible girl – is obviously tired of you already, Russ. I’m only amazed it took her so long.’ He tore the page out of his notebook. ‘There you go, mate, Wedding 101. You’ll live to be grateful to me yet.’

I leaned over to look. ‘Does it have sub-titles?’

Andrew regarded me severely. ‘I used to think you were too good for Russell but now I think you deserve each other.’

We split up outside, going our separate ways. I got a hug from Tanya and a peck on the cheek from Andrew.

Russell and I set off for his Land Rover. The rain had finally let up, but it was cold and we walked briskly.

‘
Down here,
’ said Thomas indicating the alley behind the post office. ‘
It’s much quicker.
’

I automatically turned off and Russell, in the middle of telling me how he’d come to buy that collection of rust known as his Land Rover, turned with me. Ten paces in, a dark shadow slipped out from behind a wheelie bin.

It wasn’t that dark; there was a lamppost at each end and they easily gave out enough light to make out the knife being waved in a curiously non-threatening manner. A slightly squeaky voice said, ‘Give me your bag, lady.’

Russell pulled me behind him. Thomas stepped forward. I really should have been scared, but everything happened so quickly. I peered out to see what was going on.

‘Give me your bag.’

I said, ‘I haven’t got one.’

‘What?’

‘It’s true,’ said Russell calmly. ‘She doesn’t carry one. She expects me to pay for everything.’

The knife now pointed at Russell.

‘Then give me your money.’

‘All right. I’m going to reach for my wallet now. I’ll do it slowly so don’t be alarmed.’

‘Just do it, mister.’

Russell pulled out his wallet and offered it up, deceptively casual. The next second, he’d knocked the knife away with one hand and punched our assailant on the nose with the other.

The knife fell to the ground with a clatter and he kicked it away under the wheelie bin. The figure took two quick steps backwards, sat down hard and burst into tears. I picked up his wallet.

‘Jenny, would you go and stand over there, please.’

I did take two paces to the side, but no further, because I wanted to see what would happen next.

‘
Did you see that?
’ said Thomas. ‘
Pretty cool. You can tell he’s been in the army.
’

I’d forgotten that.

For a long time there was silence in the alley apart from the distant swish of traffic in the still wet streets and the odd gulping sob.

Russell stood with his hands on his hips, quietly waiting. For what, I don’t know, but Thomas and I stood quietly too.

Finally, he said, ‘Come on, lad, don’t sit there in the wet. Stand up now.’

The figure shambled to its feet and unfolded. I caught just a glimpse of a frightened, white face, covered in dark blotches, a thin, stick-like body and big hands and feet. He must still be growing because his wrists and ankles stuck out from his clothing and his ears stuck out from his head like wing mirrors. His hair was just a dark, clogged, dirty mass. Not designer dirt, just ordinary, sleeping in an alley dirt. He was a pitiful sight, shaking with fear and cold. Blood trickled from his nose.

‘
Oh, dear,
’ said Thomas in distress, and went to do what he did best. The lad had no idea he was there, but something must have got through, because the gulping slowed to just the occasional sniff.

‘Well?’ said Russell. ‘What have you got to say for yourself?’

He just shook his head, staring at his feet. I knew that feeling.

‘Come on, you were full of it five minutes ago. What’s this all about, then?’

There was no reply.

‘Last chance before I hand you over.’

He muttered something.

‘What? What did you say? I haven’t got all night and this lady’s cold.’

‘I was hungry.’

He was too. I could see it in his hollow eyes and cheeks. I know most teenage boys look like toast racks, but this was a different kind of hunger. A desperate kind of hunger. And there was a really bad smell. Not just stale body and dirty clothes, but a sharp tang of urine, as well. I wondered if he’d wet himself when Russell hit him.

‘So what’s the story here?’

He sighed and knuckled his eyes, like a child. He looked exhausted too. And now that I could see him more clearly, those dark blotches were bruises. He’d been pretty well knocked about even before Russell had a go at him.

‘You on the streets?’

He nodded.

‘So what’s the money for? Drugs? Booze?’

He shook his head. ‘Food.’

‘There’s shelters. I think there’s one near St Stephen’s Clinic.’

He nodded. ‘I went.’

‘And?’

‘I was too late for that night. When I went outside they were waiting.’

I grew suddenly fearful. Thomas looked at me, but I nodded for him to stay where he was.

‘Who was waiting?’

‘Some men. I didn’t really see. They hang around to have fun with … When I came out they pushed me over. Grabbed my things – what I had. Kicked me around a bit. Then they pissed on me and walked off.’

More silence. Thomas moved a little closer. Unconsciously, the boy leaned towards him. I looked at Russell to see what he would do. It never occurred to me that he would hand the boy over as he threatened. I don’t think it occurred to him either.

I shivered again and that broke the spell.

‘Come on.’

‘What? Where? Where are you taking me? I’m not going anywhere with you.’ He started to back away and collided with the wheelie bin.

Russell sighed. ‘Relax, will you. Jenny, tell him.’

I did my best. ‘He’s OK. A … bit odd. Noisy. Shouts a lot. Don’t worry.’

He turned to me. ‘A bit odd? You describe me as a bit odd?’

‘It sounds better than totally … bizarre. I was trying to reassure him.’

‘By telling him I’m odd?’

‘You want me to lie? Fine.’ I turned to the boy. ‘He’s completely … normal.’

Thomas was laughing. ‘
Just offer him a meal and he’ll go anywhere.
’

I struggled a bit. It had been a long day and it wasn’t getting any shorter. ‘We’ll … give you … food.’

‘What?’

‘She’s tired and sometimes words aren’t easy for her. She’s saying come with us and we’ll give you a hot meal.’

‘Can I get my stuff?’

‘I thought it was all stolen.’

‘It was. This is other stuff I need.’

He disappeared behind the wheelie bin and came back with a large flattened cardboard box and a carrier bag full of what looked like damp rags.

‘What’s that?’

‘What’s left. They didn’t want this’

‘You don’t need the cardboard box.’

‘Yes, I do. It’s hard to get one this size.’

That was wet too. He struggled to get it under his arm. Russell told him he wouldn’t need it, but he wouldn’t let it go, so off we set.

Russell made him walk in front of us. We walked along behind and Thomas brought up the rear. I said to Thomas, ‘What’s the box for?’

‘
He sleeps on it. The ground can be very cold and wet.
’

‘Oh.’

‘
And he needs to hang on to it in case it gets pinched.
’

‘By whom?’

‘
Other people on the streets, or those who regard the homeless as legitimate sport.
’

‘Oh.’

‘
For some people, the world is sometimes not a very nice place.
’

Russell made him sit in the back and promise to behave. He nodded, still clutching his bed and bag.

We achieved escape velocity, hurtled round the Whittington roundabout, and sling-shotted to Frogmorton. When Russell opened up the back he was sprawled on the floor.

‘Oh, sorry, mate.’

He scrambled out and stood looking around him. The light was still on in the kitchen.

‘Come on,’ said Russell, and we all trailed after him.

Mrs Crisp was in her dressing gown making cocoa.

‘There you are, just in time. Would you like some cocoa? She broke off as she got a good look at the guest. ‘Who’s this?’

‘That’s a point,’ said Russell. ‘Who are you?’

‘Kevin.’

We waited, but there was no more.

‘Just Kevin?’

He nodded, defiantly.

‘Police looking for you, Kevin?’

Mrs Crisp pulled the neck of her dressing gown closer and looked round for a rolling pin. Or possible a steak hammer.

He shook his head.

‘Anyone looking for you?’

Even I could feel the sudden sadness. ‘No, no one.’

‘No parents?’

He stared at his feet. ‘No.’

‘How old are you?’

‘I was eighteen last week.’

I felt so sorry for him. Other teenagers have parents who throw parties for their kids’ eighteenth. Or mark it with a special gift or a trip of some kind. Even I’d got a laptop. This kid had spent his eighteenth birthday on a wet pavement getting kicked and pissed on.

Mrs Crisp bustled forward. ‘That’s enough. Can someone please organise him a good hot bath and a change of clothes?’ She glared at Russell until he got the message.

‘Right, this way, Kevin.’ They disappeared into the house. I could hear them climbing the stairs. Mrs Crisp went to the fridge and started pulling out eggs, bacon, tomatoes – all the makings of a good breakfast.

Not wanting to intrude, I said shyly, ‘Can I help?’

‘Yes, of course. Thank you. Perhaps you’d like to make the toast. Lots of it, I think, and plenty of butter.

I found the toaster and bread and set to, carefully buttering the toast and stacking it over the range to keep warm. I found the marmalade, and under Mrs Crisp’s instructions, laid the table. Thomas took himself into the corner out of the way.

About twenty minutes later they were back. Kevin wore an old black jogging suit with the cuffs turned back and the legs pooling around his ankles. His hair was wet and a surprising dark blond colour. The downside was that without the protective covering of dirt, the bruises were much more visible. He’d had more than a bit of a kicking.

‘There you are. Come and sit down.’ She pulled out a chair for him and, as he sat, laid a heaped plate in front of him. ‘Eggs, bacon, hash browns, tomatoes, mushrooms, and there’s plenty of toast and marmalade. Dig in.’

He did. It was a kind of feeding frenzy.

‘Slow down,’ said Russell, not unkindly, ‘or it’ll all come back up again. I’ll admit it’s good value to see your food go by more than once, but in this instance, it’s a bit of a waste. No one’s going to take it away from you so just slow down a bit.’

Kevin nodded, broke off to gulp down some tea, took a deep breath, and made an effort at table manners.

Russell, obviously feeling his guest eat shouldn’t eat alone, made himself a bacon sandwich and tucked in as well. I had a piece of toast and marmalade and Mrs Crisp got up and came back with a lemon drizzle cake and we all had a piece of that too.

‘So, Kevin,’ said Russell. ‘What’s your story then?’

It was more a question and answer session than a coherent narrative and he stopped for tea and another piece of cake. It all boiled down to a familiar and sad story. His father left. His mother, desperate for money and obviously feeling that any man was better than no man at all, took up with a man she probably wouldn’t have looked at before. It was made clear to Kevin that he was no longer welcome in his own home. Reading between the lines, his mother never lifted a finger to save him. Only seventeen and with poor exam results, he’d been unable to find work. He spent a little time staying with friends, but that petered out. Unable to get a job, he couldn’t find anywhere to live and, unable to provide an address, he couldn’t get a job. This was his first winter on the streets. Even after the bath, he still looked grubby. The dirt was more than skin deep. He looked exhausted, desperate, lonely, and deeply afraid. He kept looking around the kitchen, half afraid to stay and very afraid to leave. I wondered what Russell would do.

Obviously the bacon sandwich had lubricated his brain cells. ‘We can offer you a room for the night,’ he said. ‘It’s not very much but it’s dry and warm. Mrs Crisp will look you out some blankets. You’ve already got towels. We’ll give you breakfast tomorrow and then have a bit of a chat. There is a lock on the door if you want to use it.’