TWENTY-FOUR
I met Kevin in the park — on the bridge where we’d been the night Matty and Kevin took pills and Emma went off with Marlon. Emma had texted me this morning:
I dumped marlon! U were right, hes an arsehole. He tried 2 change my mind! I feel good! :) xx
I’d wanted to hug her.
Kevin took a last deep pull on a cigarette and tossed it into the stream. He had a cut on his lip. His face had that desperate look again, like last night. It was similar to when he lost his temper, as if he had all this energy running through him that he didn’t know what to do with, like his emotions were bigger than him. His fists were clenching and unclenching. Then I noticed his right knuckle was all swollen and bruised again, but worse than last time. I sat on the wall near Emma’s graffiti:
E.S. + T.C. + K.O’R. + M.O’R. woz ere getting fukked!!!!
Kevin stayed standing. I reached out and took his right hand.
‘Who’ve you been fighting now?’
‘Just some dickheads outside The Wellie,’ he said, shaking his head like it wasn’t important.
‘So you went back there after I went home?’
‘What else was I meant to do?’
I rubbed the fingers of my other hand over his knuckle. It felt tender and hot. He winced.
‘You’re silly,’ I said.
‘I’ve told you before. No one mugs me off.’
‘You can’t be a famous cartoonist if you fuck your hand up.’ I smiled.
‘Don’t take the piss.’
‘I’m not.’ I made my face straight. ‘I wouldn’t take the piss out of you.’
He sniffed. He had a funny way of sniffing that made his whole expression change for a second — the corners of his mouth turned down and gave him a mean look. It made me think of a comic book baddie. He had the right features — the jaw, the full lips, the dark eyebrows.
‘So, you’re pregnant?’ he said quietly.
I nodded.
‘Just from that one time. Your first time.’
‘Yep.’
I could see his jaws ripple where he was gritting his teeth.
‘You can’t get rid of it,’ he said. ‘I’m Catholic. My family wouldn’t have that, man. They’d go crazy. It’s murder.’
‘Your family wouldn’t have to know,’ I said.
‘What, you mean you’re going to kill our baby? Our little baby?’ his voice became gruffer.
‘Kevin, stop it.’
‘So I don’t get a say?’ he burst out. He turned and smashed his foot into the wall opposite, letting out a growl at the same time. ‘Fucking hell,’ he exclaimed. ‘Don’t make me get angry with you, Tash. You don’t want to see me when I lose my temper. I mean it. I can’t control it.’
I almost wanted to laugh at him being all dramatic. It felt like we should be on TV. I was soap opera Tash again. Sometimes in Stanhill, it did feel like I was acting. But for Kevin, maybe it was all real.
‘I don’t know what I’m going to do yet, Kevin. I don’t know anything.’ I pulled on his sleeve. ‘Come here.’
He sat on the wall beside me and swallowed. I stroked his hair, then leant over and kissed him softly — being careful with the dark red cut on his lip. He was looking at the ground like a sulky little boy. I did it again, put little kisses all over his face until he kissed me back and then we sank into proper kissing. He was squeezing me tightly. I squeezed back. I felt like I didn’t want to let go, like I could never have enough of him. I imagined us having sex again. It would be different now, emotional. It seemed like the only way I’d be able to get my feelings out.
We hugged, rocking from side to side.
He pulled back. His eyes darted all over my face.
‘We’d be alright,’ he said. ‘We’d get a flat off the council. All my family would look after us. I could work full-time in the butchers in a year or so.’
I sighed. I stared into the stream for ages. I could see a few fish flitting about underneath the crisp packets and the Tesco trolley. I could feel Kevin staring.
I heard high pitched voices. A man walked slowly past the tennis courts, with three little kids and an Alsatian running ahead of him.
‘Kevin, I don’t know if I want that. You almost made me feel like I fitted in here for a while. You and Karen and everyone. I’d never felt like that before. But I want to go off and do stuff.’
‘What stuff?’
‘I don’t know.’
‘Don’t you love me?’
‘Yeah, I do, but ...’
‘We could run away together,’ he said. ‘Get away from this shithole, go somewhere better. America or somewhere.’
I couldn’t help laughing, remembering Dave had said the same thing to Karen. Then I heard a funny throaty sound and looked at Kevin. He was crying, tears streaming down his face. He didn’t look like he was older any more. He didn’t look like the hardest in Stanhill School. He looked like a little lost kid.
‘If you have the baby and stay with me, we’ll be OK,’ he sobbed. ‘If you don’t ... Tash, I want to stay with you. I’m bad, I’ve done bad things. I’ll probably end up in prison. But if I stay with you it’ll be OK. We’ll do stuff.’
I watched as he crumpled in front of me.
I remembered what Ms Fortune had said in that PSHE lesson — something about no one else being able to make you feel better about yourself. It sort of made sense now.
‘Kevin,’ I said. ‘I can’t do stuff for you. You’ve got to sort yourself out.’
I pulled him gently towards me, so his head was against my chest. I stroked his hair again. His tears left dark pink spots on my light pink top.
‘There’s something else,’ he said eventually, his voice muffled.
‘What?’
‘Matty’s been arrested.’
I let out a breath. ‘What for?’
‘I don’t know yet. Solicitor phoned me, said Matty would probably tell me when I saw him.’
‘And when will you see him?’
He shrugged.
I held him closer, leant my lips against his head. We stayed like that for a while.
‘What about school?’ I asked.
‘Think they’re sending me to that Pupil Referral Unit. Ryan went there. And Dave. It’s a shithole. No one learns anything.’ He sighed. ‘Maybe when I go to Ireland I won’t fucking come back.’
The Dad and three kids came near us, walking towards Redcroft Hill. There were two boys and a girl. They were walking past the rose garden. One of the girls had long blonde hair and buck-teeth. She was skipping along, holding a little violin case. I smiled at her and she smiled back shyly.
‘Nastasha!’
I turned round. It was Mum. She was stomping towards us, past the rose garden. She was in her work clothes — pinstripe trousers and jacket with high heel boots. Karen was struggling behind her in slippers and jeans, her ponytail coming loose.
‘What the bloody hell is going on?’ Mum yelled. ‘Why aren’t you in school?’
‘Your teacher phoned your mum,’ panted Karen. ‘She came to mine looking for you.’
‘Home. Now,’ Mum said. Her lips were pursed so hard the skin around them had gone bright white. She went to grab my arm, but I was up, anyway. Kevin sat slumped on the wall, not bothered about who saw the tears stuck in his eyelashes. I wanted to tell him I really did love him, but I couldn’t, not in front of everyone.
I turned to Mum.
‘I’m coming,’ I said. ‘I’m coming home.’