That’s when I met her.
Though, I’d met her before. I’d seen her get her head cracked against the station wall and I’d seen her a couple of times at school and in the town. She looked like some kind of angel, that’s what she looked like, with her bouncing curly black hair that sparkled in the sun. She had rosy cheeks and green eyes and she was the most beautiful thing. I don’t know how adults know when they fall in love, but I thought that was maybe what it felt like, the way I felt when I saw her, and between my legs I was all a-tingle like when I played with myself, and I imagined her, I imagined what she looked like playing with herself, and then she said, ‘You fucking shits.’
I squinted at her, confused.
‘You fucking stinking shits.’
I turned and saw John torturing a spider, pulling all its long legs off. She barrelled towards him and punched him and I reached out to stop her, thinking he’s property and I needed to protect the property and bloody hell was she gonna be in all kinds of trouble but then I realised she didn’t belong to Tom so maybe he couldn’t touch her and maybe she’d be okay. I smiled. Weeks of anger just melted away as I watched her punching and kicking John. When she finished she stomped right on that spider, putting it out of its misery because it was just all messed up beyond repair. She ground that spider into the dirt and looked at me with the most vicious look anyone has ever given me, even more vicious than ma, and she said, ‘You goddamn son of a whore stinking shit.’
Then she was off, before I even had a chance to explain, before I even had a chance to tell her I thought she was some kind of angel, like you get in the Revelation book, all powerful and beautiful and you just don’t mess with those angels and I wanted to be on her side. I wanted her to love me.
But she was gone, and she thought I was some sort of spider mutilator. It really ate away at me, right down in my belly, that she thought I would have anything to do with the Idiot if I had a choice. I wanted to explain. I played it out in my head over and over, changing small things here and there, but she would always listen, listen quietly to my whole story and then she’d take me in her arms and she’d kiss me on the head with those rose red lips and I would melt away, drifting. ‘My angel,’ I’d say, ‘my angel.’
The Idiot got up out of the dirt where he lay next to the crushed spider and I wished he was the one that had his legs pulled off and was all crushed, but he wasn’t, he was alive and telling me how he’d see Tom and tell him I’d pummelled him, and you know what? I didn’t even care.
‘I don’t care,’ I said.
It was true. At that moment, I’d stopped caring about having pretend parents, because the love of my life hated me and thought I was an idiot just like this Idiot in the dirt. I was about to kick him until he was all broken when old Mrs Bellhaven came over and said, ‘I saw it all. That girl is trouble.’
She helped him up and marched him off.
‘Don’t you worry,’ she said. ‘I saw everything.’
I just sank into the dirt with the spider, stupefied, not knowing what was what anymore.
‘My angel,’ I said and stroked the spider corpse, covering it with dirt like it was a grave.
It was then I started reading Revelation like mad. I was all fire and brimstone, I was all little goblin plague and blood.
I learned to swim in the sea.
But not for months yet, and not a word was said to my Revelation angel. Winter was hard. Knee deep in snow and my chores became doubly difficult. We got through the winter with only a couple of deaths, a chicken and an old sheep, and I worked hard at home and at school and Tom was pleased with me, I could tell he was, but I can tell you something for certain – I was glad for spring. Long warm evenings playing with Corporal Pig in the woods and a summer holiday stretching out ahead with no schoolwork, only chores and roaming here and there when I’d done my bit.
In April we had an Easter gathering in the church hall after the service and it was then I realised I’d missed my birthday in March. I was ten-years-old and I hadn’t even noticed, so to mark it I got a hold of a big slice of cake and said, ‘Happy very belated birthday to me myself,’ and I was just minding my own business stuffing cake into my mouth when I heard the words ‘Greedy London rat.’
That’s what the old Snap-dragon called me. I pushed all the cake in, trying to chew, crumbs spilling on the floor.
‘No manners.’
I knew she was right, I knew I couldn’t swallow the cake, I knew I was choking and I knew she had no manners either so I spat the cake on her feet and ran like I had a spitfire up my arse.
That was the day I learned to swim in the sea and became best friends with Angel.
I ran to the back of the church hall, poking my head round the corner to see if the Snap-dragon was following me, but she wasn’t. I knew I’d be in all kinds of trouble later, but right then I didn’t care. It was worth it to see the look on her bloated snooty face.
‘Hey, London Rat.’
I almost jumped right out of my goblin-skin with fright. When I turned round and saw who it was I was so embarrassed that I almost fell over but I stood straight as can be and stared at her with my eyes narrowed, trying to pretend like I was oh-so-cool but inside I was churning, my tummy growling with nerves.
‘Well, that was a disaster,’ is surely what Queen Isabella would have helpfully pointed out and I could just see Amelia nodding in agreement.
‘You really stuck it to that stinking old Mrs Carter, didn’t you?’
She thought I was some kind of hero, spitting that cake at the Snap-dragon. She cocked her head at me.
‘You’ll get a hiding for that, for sure.’
I gawped at her. She was tiny and her hair was as black as the midnight Cornish sky. When it shone in the sun, her hair sparkled like glittering stars.
‘Are you dumb or something?’
I said, ‘Maybe you’re an angel or a Martian.’
Her eyes popped wide and she said, ‘You’re daft.’
I said her name was Angel. She said I was a silly London rat. I said I’m not a rat, I’m a goblin and anyway, you’re a London rat too. She said, ‘Angel is a stupid name.’ I said, ‘But you’re not like some boring old angel all in white on a cloud playing a harp. You’re one of those angels like in Revelation who doesn’t let people away with sins like torturing spiders, an angel who rains fire and blood down on people.’
She looked at me, cocking her head again, narrowing her eyes. She didn’t say anything and I felt uncomfortable, so I just said, for no reason really, just for something to say, ‘“Rats” backwards is “Star”,’ and she shrugged and she said, ‘Goblin-Rat-Star? Let’s go on an adventure.’
‘Angel?’ I said, ‘I was born for adventure,’ like some terrible Hollywood line out of a cowboy film, and I blushed, but I was pleased. She was my friend. We walked through the forest and I said, ‘Where’re we going?’
She looked at me with hooded eyes and said, ‘Stupid Rat, we’re going to the sea.’
I got huffy and said, ‘Well, how would I know?’ though inside I thought I might explode. I was going to the sea with my Angel. What could be better than that?
She said, ‘This is the path to the sea, stupid. How long have you been here? You not been to the sea yet?’