Julian’s eyebrows lowered in a frown of surprise. Ever since his mum’s illness, his dad had made a point of not working late so that he could be with her. “Is everything okay at the factory?”
“He says so, but then you know how he is.” A note of irritation came into Christine’s voice. “He thinks he’s got to wrap me up in cotton-wool. I keep telling him, I worry more not knowing what’s going on. I may be ill, but that doesn’t mean I have to be treated like a child.”
“Robert doesn’t treat you like a child,” said Wanda. Her expression suggested this was a familiar topic of conversation. “I’m sure he’d tell you if there was anything to really be worried about.”
Christine looked doubtful, but said nothing. The conversation turned to Julian. Christine wanted to know how his studies were going. And more importantly, had he managed to find himself a girlfriend yet. He answered that his studies were going fine. And no, he hadn’t got a steady girlfriend. He’d had a few flings, but nothing serious. He felt relaxed talking to his mum, knowing she wouldn’t ask him about the dreams, not with Wanda there. After the meal, Julian helped Wanda clear the table and wash-up. Then Wanda gave Christine her daily massage. Julian watched as she massaged his mum’s spinal column and paralysed limbs with scented oil. The limbs looked withered and dead, like wilted vines. But it was clear there was still some life in them from the way Christine grimaced as Wanda pushed her hands over their slack, veiny flesh.
At half-past seven, Julian said he was going out to meet Kyle. “Don’t stay out too late,” Christine called after him as he left the house.
Chapter 2
Julian pulled up outside a building with a blood-red neon sign overhanging the pavement that read ‘The Cut’. Another sign in the window stated ‘No Drugs or Nuclear Weapons allowed inside’. The bar was dark and grimy, almost deserted. There was a band playing on a small stage, fronted by some emo-boy whining on about loss and rejection. A boy with long hair, a goatee and a faceful of piercings stood drinking at the bar-counter. “Hey there, bro,” he called to Julian, grinning. “I got you a beer in.”
“Cheers, man.” They shook hands, warrior-style. Julian glanced around, taking a sip from his bottle. He shook his head. “Fuck me, I never realised what a dump this place was until now.”
“Hey, don’t go slagging it off, just ’cos you’ve been living it up in the big city. For some of us, this is the best we’ve got.”
“Don’t worry, you’ll be out of here too at the end of the summer.”
“As long as I get the grades I need.”
“You will this time, no worries.”
“Yeah, maybe. I fucking hope so. This town’s doing my head in. I’m so bored. There’s no one from our year left around, except me and all the dead-heads.” Kyle exhaled heavily. “Anyway, let’s stop talking about this before I get depressed.” He swilled back his beer. “I hope you’ve got your drinking boots on, Jules, ’cos I’m in the mood for getting properly fucked up.”
“I’m driving.”
Kyle’s face creased in disgust. “Aw, what the fuck. Why?”
“I’ve got some dope. I thought we could drive out to Five Springs for a smoke. You know, like old times.”
“Nice idea, bro. Only we can’t go to Five Springs. Haven’t you heard? The coppers are out there looking for that little jailbait bitch.”
“Yeah, I saw. Did you know her?”
“Nah. I spoke to her once or twice in here. She was serious trouble. I heard she fucked her way through half the scuzzballs in town.”
“You’re kidding.”
Kyle shook his head. “And that’s not all I heard, bro. I heard she was selling it.”
“You mean she slept with men for money.” Julian’s lips screwed up doubtfully. “Bullshit. How do you know that?”
“Anyone who knows anything around here knows it for a fact. If you don’t believe me, just ask around.” Kyle chuckled. “Although I don’t think you’ll find too many guys willing to admit to fooling around with an underage prozzie. Tell you what really makes me laugh. The way her mum keep’s banging on about her being abducted. What a load of shit. More likely one of her customers has done her in and dumped her in a ditch somewhere.”
Kyle opened his mouth to say something else, but closed it again as a group of goth-punk types, all black leather, torn drainpipe jeans and fishnet stockings, jet black hair and heavy makeup, entered the bar. There were two men and a woman, mid-twenties looking, and the girl, Morsus. One of the men approached the bar-counter and ordered drinks, while the others seated themselves around a table close to the stage. The girl looked drunk or stoned, her eyes glassy and vacant, a sort of vacuous half-smile, half-sneer playing around the edges of her mouth. Julian watched her out of the sides of his eyes. He couldn’t help but watch her. Kyle nudged him. “Don’t even think about going there, bro. That’s Mia Bradshaw. Jake Bradshaw’s twin sister.”
“Who’s Jake Bradshaw?”
“He’s a serious fuckin’ headcase. Been in juvie more often than you change your underpants. The coppers are after him at the moment for joyriding or something. There’s a rumour going round that he’s hiding out in the forest. Remember? Like we used to. Only for real.”
“Is she mates with Joanne Butcher?”
“Yeah, big-time, they were like twin sisters. Twins of evil, that’s what I call ’em. I know this guy who went with her for a while. He said she’s proper crazy, said she wanted him to do all kinds of weird shit to her.”
“What kind of weird shit?”
“Pull her hair, slap her around, strangle her. That kind of weird shit. He couldn’t handle it so he dumped her.”
Julian felt a twinge of the same sick feeling that’d come over him after his dream. It started in his stomach and slithered, cold and slimy as a slug, up his throat. He pushed it back down with a swallow of beer. Mia seemed oblivious or indifferent to him staring at her, but one of the men was giving him a none-too-friendly look. “Come on, let’s go for that smoke,” Kyle said, tugging at Julian’s sleeve as the man started to stand. Reluctantly, Julian allowed himself to be drawn away from the bar. As they stepped outside, a mocking peal of laughter followed them. Glancing back, Julian saw that it came from Mia. He shuddered a little.
“You trying to get the shit kicked out of us?” said Kyle.
Julian made no answer. He was thinking about Mia, trying to work out what it was about her that’d hit him so hard. It wasn’t her bad girl image. He’d never gone for that kind of thing. It wasn’t her looks, either. Sure, she was attractive — if anything, almost too much so. Her kind of looks did little for him, other than make him aware of his imperfections. No, it was something else, something deeper, beyond his understanding. It gave him chills. He could feel them now, running up and down his bones, like he was coming down with something nasty.
“Anyway, why are you so interested in a pair of no-marks like Joanne Butcher and Mia Bradshaw?” asked Kyle.
“I’m not. Doesn’t it freak you out though? I mean, you expect this kind of thing to happen in a city, but not around here.”
“Jules, man, you crack me up,” Kyle laughed, shaking his head. “You really don’t know shit about this town, do you?”
Chapter 3
Julian crept through the house to the kitchen. As he made a sandwich, Henry padded across to snuffle at his hand. He took the snack to his bedroom and lay with Henry curled at his feet, looking out into the darkness beyond the window. He wondered if Jake Bradshaw was really hiding in the forest. He imagined himself in Jake’s situation, sleeping under the stars, living off the land, moving camp every few days to avoid detection. The idea appealed to something within him that longed for a secret place, away from the reality of daily life, away from the pressure to study and achieve.
He closed his eyes, hoping he was stoned enough to fall straight into a blank sleep. He wasn’t. Bright, almost luminous images quivered behind his eyelids. He saw Mia Bradshaw, Joanne Butcher and Susan Carter. They separated and merged like colours in a kaleidoscope, until he couldn’t tell where one finished and the other began. He tried meditating, but it made no difference, so he got up and went to the living-room. His dad was there, too, sat in his dressing-gown, staring at the black walls of glass, sipping whisky. There was no light in the room except that of the moon. Even so, Julian could see that the bags under his dad’s eyes were heavier than usual, the lines on his forehead more pronounced.