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Authors: Paula Rawsthorne

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BOOK: Blood Tracks
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“So why don’t you like him?” he asked.

“I used to think he was okay. Whenever he came round he’d bring me and Danny presents. My dad would tell him to stop, but Tom did it anyway. But then when Dad died, Tom told everyone at the inquest that my dad had been depressed. He said that Dad had hidden it from us because he didn’t want to worry us.”

“I suppose people do that kind of thing,” Declan said gently.

“My dad wasn’t depressed.”

“But why would his boss lie?” Declan said.

“I don’t know, that question keeps going round and round my head.” Gina tapped her head with her fist. “But there’s other things that Tom has done that make me think he knows something about what happened to my dad.”

“Like what?”

Gina suddenly shook her head. What was she doing? This boy had just seen her on top of a bridge and now she was telling him all this! He must think she was a total nutter.

“Nothing, it doesn’t matter, it’s just he’s a liar and now he’s round our house all the time, trying to play happy families with us. Well, we’re not his family. He should get lost.” She couldn’t stop herself. Her voice was venomous. She noticed Declan looking at her uneasily. “Sorry…I wasn’t always like this,” she said, sadly. “Maybe we should talk about something else. What have you been up to since you left school?”

“Well, at the moment I’m lodging with an old lady on Hanover Street, Mrs. Mac. She’s great apart from phoning my parents in Ireland to report whether I’ve been a good boy and checking under my bed in case I’ve smuggled in alcohol. I tell you, I’m living the dream!”

Gina laughed. “So why are you still here if your parents are in Ireland?”

“I wanted to stay – have a bit of independence – but I haven’t been very successful up to now.”

“You working?”

“I’m in between jobs at the moment.”

“What was your last job, then?”

“A paper round in Year Eight,” he grinned.

She rolled her eyes, smiling. “Well, what kind of thing do you fancy doing?”

“What is this, my job-seeker’s interview?” he laughed.

“I’m just interested.”

“I don’t know.” He shrugged. “But Mrs. Mac wants to set me up with a job in a funeral parlour.”

Gina pulled a face. “That sounds nasty.”

“I know! But if I don’t find something else soon, she’s going to drag me there.” Now it was Declan’s turn to change the subject. “So, how’s the old school surviving without me?”

“Well, the teachers miss you at detention.”

“God, I was so immature in those days.” He tried to sound sincere.

“You only left a few months ago.”

“So I did.” Declan grinned. “And what about you? You’ve got your exams this year, haven’t you?”

Gina shrugged. “Yeah, I might scrape by, if I’m lucky.”

They walked side by side until they reached her house, their chat punctuated by frequent laughter.

She gestured to the green door. “This is me. I’ve made it home safely despite your prophecies of doom.”

“I was only trying to help.”

“I know,” she said gratefully. “It was nice of you, thanks.”

“Maybe I’ll see you around?” he asked, looking hopeful.

“Not if I see you first,” she replied, deadpan. She turned her back to him, a secret smile spreading across her face. She couldn’t believe it. She’d been dreading returning to the bridge but if she hadn’t gone there today, at that time, she wouldn’t have met Declan Doyle and she wouldn’t be feeling the first spark of happiness since her dad died.

This must be a good sign
, Gina thought.
Maybe my luck is about to change.

As she entered the hallway the smile was quickly wiped from Gina’s face by the sight of Tom leaning against the staircase, laden down with parcels. Danny was buzzing around him.

“Hurry up, Gina,” Danny ordered. “Tom wouldn’t let us open our presents until you got back.”

“How was your run?” Tom asked her, teasingly lifting the parcels higher, just out of Danny’s reach. “I phoned earlier and your mum told me you’d gone out. That’s just great, Gina – your mum’s so relieved. She was worried you might never run again.”

She saw her mum rush into the hallway from the kitchen and flash Tom a silencing look.

“Hiya, love. How did it go?” Mum asked, planting a warm kiss on Gina’s cold cheek.

“Great,” Gina said through gritted teeth. “What’s
he
doing here?”

“He phoned up and I told him not to come round but he insisted. He’s only being nice,” her mum whispered apologetically.

Tom approached Gina, handing her a box with a flourish.

“When I heard you’d gone out running I just knew what I had to buy you,” he said.

“Wow! Look how much they cost!” Danny pointed to the price on the side of the box.

“Open it up will you, Gina?”

Gina lifted the lid unenthusiastically but found she had to stifle her excitement at the sight of the beautifully crafted running shoes.

“They look brilliant,” Danny cooed.

“I know,” Tom said proudly. “I went to that specialist running shop in town. I spent ages in there. I never realized there was so much to this running lark. To tell you the truth they made me feel like having a go at it myself. It’s about time I got outside instead of going to a sweaty gym getting nowhere on a treadmill.”

God, he better not suggest coming out with me.
Gina bristled.

“Do you like them, Gina?” Tom waited expectantly.

“If you don’t mind, I’ll stick with my own,” she said, shutting the lid. “You can take them back, can’t you? Get your money back.”

“Oh, Gina,” her mum said, embarrassed. “Don’t be so ungrateful. It’s such a thoughtful gift from your Uncle Tom.”

“My dad bought me these running shoes. I don’t want new ones,” she said defiantly.

“But your dad would be pleased you’ve got a great new pair,” her mum said, exasperatedly.

“I don’t need a new pair. These ones are fine.”

They all looked down at her feet and her scruffy, mud-caked trainers, fraying at the seams.

“Well maybe I’ll have more luck with your gift.” Tom gave a hopeful smile as he handed Danny the square box. “Gently does it,” he warned, as Danny threw off the lid.

He reached in and lifted out a water-filled plastic bag. He gazed at the three sleek black-and-white striped fish, their gossamer fins rippling gently.

“Wow, they’re so cool!” said Danny, trying hard to hide his disappointment.

“What’s up? Don’t you like them?” Tom looked crestfallen.

“No, I love them. They’re brilliant…but they’re tigerfish. I’ve got photos of them in my aquarium books. Thing is, Uncle Tom…” He hesitated. “I don’t think they can go in my tank. It’s a community tank.”

“What does that mean?” Tom asked.

“Well, it means that all the types of fish you put in it have to get on – you know, not go fighting each other – and tigerfish are aggressive. They might attack the others.”

Tom laughed. “Well, what if these fellas promise to play nicely and not bully the other fish?”

Danny looked unsure.

“Danny, I can’t have
two
rejected presents. Come on,” Tom cajoled. “They’ll look amazing. Put them in the tank, see how they get on, first sign of bad behaviour and you can fish them out, if you’ll excuse the pun.”

“Okay then.” Danny nodded shyly, not wanting to upset Tom. “But you can’t just empty them in, you’re meant to leave them in the tank in their plastic bag until they get used to the temperature.”

“Aren’t you the expert,” Tom called after Danny as he watched him carrying the plastic bag carefully into the living room.

“And for you…” Tom turned to Clare, who stood sporting a dusting of white flour in her brown hair and a grease stain down her top. “I’ve bought these.” He held out a shoebox together with a flashy-looking carrier bag. “They’re the right size. I did a bit of detective work, rifling through the shoe rack when you weren’t looking, and as for your dress size…well I just went to that posh frock shop on Hilton Road and mapped out your curves for the salesgirls.” He grinned, making an hourglass shape with his hands. “And they knew your size immediately.”

“Oh my God! I think I’m going to throw up,” Gina muttered.

Her mum blushed as she pulled a sequined dress out of the bag. “It’s gorgeous, Tom.”

“Wait till you see the shoes,” he said, his eyes dancing.

She opened the box to reveal a pair of killer heels.

“How’s she meant to walk in them?” Gina protested.

“Oh Tom! The dress. The shoes. The gifts for the kids… They must have cost a packet. You can’t go spending your money on us like this.”

“But I want to. Who else have I got to spoil? Now go and get that dress on because I’ve booked us all a table at that new Michelin-star restaurant that was in the paper!”

Gina turned on him angrily. “Don’t you know what day it is?”

Tom’s effervescence quickly faded. “Of course I do. It would have been your dad’s birthday.”

“Well, don’t you think it’s a strange night to go out celebrating?” she hissed.

“Gina’s right, Tom. I don’t think we should be going out tonight,” her mum said.

Tom looked offended. “Clare, do you really think I want to celebrate? That isn’t what I’m suggesting. I miss Martin too, you know.”

“Of course you do,” her mum said remorsefully.

“Listen to me, today of all days we all need cheering up. This is the perfect evening to go out. The three of you have been through so much this year. You deserve to start enjoying yourselves again. To start looking to the future. Isn’t that what Martin would want? He wouldn’t want you all moping around on his birthday.”

Mum looked like she was wavering.

“Danny,” Tom called, “you’d like to go out to a fantastic restaurant this evening, wouldn’t you? You might even see some footballers in there.”

“Really? Okay, but only if it does chips and I don’t have to dress up,” he replied.

“It may not call them chips but I guarantee they’ll be on the menu,” Tom laughed.

“All right,” he said.

“See, Danny’s up for it. Come on, Clare.” He looked at her pleadingly.

“Well, maybe you’re right about what Martin would have wanted and it would be lovely to get dressed up for once.” Her mum was getting excited. “But I’ll only go if Gina will come too.”

“Well, I won’t!” Gina said, crossing her arms.

“Please, Gina, it’s so long since we’ve had a family outing,” her mum said.

“But
he’s
not part of our family,” she retorted.

“Oh, shut up, Gina. You’re spoiling everything,” Danny pouted. “Just come, will you? I might get some autographs.”

“No, you lot go. I’m staying here.”

Tom took off his beautifully tailored jacket and hung it over the end of the banister.

“What are you doing?” her mum asked.

“I’ll cancel the table.” He smiled magnanimously. “I don’t want Gina upset over something that was meant to be a treat. So I suggest we stay in and I’ll get us a takeaway. What’s it to be?”

“Chinese,” Danny said immediately. “Barbecue ribs and chips, please.”

“Double chips,” Tom laughed, ruffling Danny’s hair.

Gina was flummoxed.

“This is so kind of you, Tom,” her mum gushed. “I’m sorry that we’ve messed up your lovely plan. Why don’t you go and sit down? There’s some lager in the fridge. Do you fancy one?”

“Yeah, that sounds great,” Tom said, walking into the living room and making himself comfortable in her dad’s armchair.

“Yeah?” Danny said, as he opened the door to the tracksuit-clad figure.

“Hi, is Gina in?”

“I think she’s still in bed.”

“Oh.” The young man sounded disappointed. “No worries, I’ll come back another time. Just tell her Declan called, would you?”

“Okay.”

Clare heard the front door shutting and appeared from the living room in a dressing gown, looking decidedly fragile. She certainly hadn’t intended to drink so much the previous night. Gina had insisted on going upstairs straight after the takeaway and Danny had, reluctantly, followed soon after. However, Tom had stayed until well after midnight, chatting to Clare and refilling her wine glass.

“Who was that, Danny?” Clare asked.

“Just some boy for Gina.” He shrugged.

“Really?” She scurried to open the door and called after the young man. “Hang on, love. Can I help you?”

Declan turned round sheepishly. “Hi, I’m Declan. I didn’t want to disturb Gina. I just called on the off-chance.”

“Are you a friend of Gina’s?” She eyed up the handsome boy curiously.

“Well…yeah, kind of…we went to the same school.”

“Well, come in,” Clare said enthusiastically, only too aware that Gina’s friends had stopped calling round a long time ago. “I’ll tell Gina you’re here.”

Declan stepped into the hallway.

Clare disappeared up the stairs. There was a shriek from Gina’s bedroom and the creaking of floorboards above signalled a flurry of activity. Her mum leaned over the banister.

“She won’t be a minute,” she called down.

“There’s no hurry. I just wondered whether she wanted to come for a run,” Declan said.

The next moment a disembodied voice rang out.

“A run?” it repeated.

“Yeah. I told you I love running. Do you fancy it? I’ve got all the right gear on this time.”

Gina flashed her rudely-awakened face over the banister.

“You really
are
serious,” she called.

“Yeah. Do you want to come?”

“She’d love to,” her mum chirped. “Danny, you look after Declan. Gina won’t be a minute.”

Danny looked up at the boy and wondered how he was supposed to “look after” him.

“Do you want a drink?” Danny tried.

“No thanks.”

“Do you want to sit down?”

“Okay.”

Danny led the guest into the living room.

Declan’s eyes were immediately drawn to the moving technicolour display in the corner of the room. “Hey, cool tank!”

Danny beamed proudly. “Do you like it? It’s mine. I set it up…well, Gina helped, but I got to choose the fish and I look after it.”

Declan watched in amusement as a gang of bright minnows bounced around in the stream of bubbles being blown out by the pump.

“Which fish is your favourite?” Declan asked.

“The clownfish. They look brilliant,” he said pointing out a little one with orange and white stripes.

“I like the angelfish best,” Declan said, as he watched one fan its delicate black and white fins. “And what about this one? He’s a funny-looking fella.”

“Yeah,” Danny replied, “he’s a catfish. He spends all day trawling along the bottom of the tank sucking up all the rubbish. I call him Gina,” Danny smirked.

Declan smiled.
Little brothers – always so kind to their sisters.
“Hey, look at those black ones chasing the guppies. It’s like they’re hunting them,” Declan said, his eyes following the frantic chase around the tank.

“I know.” Danny sounded worried. “They’re tigerfish. I’m hoping that they’ll calm down and stop worrying the other fish. I only got them yesterday. They were a gift. I don’t want to offend my uncle by taking them out just yet.”

“What you up to today?” Declan asked.

“Playing footy later.”

“Oh yeah, do you play for a team?”

“Yeah, the Panthers. We’re in the under-elevens Tudor league.”

“Really! I used to play in that league. Where are you in the table?”

“Bottom,” Danny mumbled. “We’re rubbish. We’re the reject team, made up of all the players no other team wanted.”

“Well, at least the only way is up.” Declan smiled encouragingly. “How are you on Fifa?” he asked, spotting the Xbox next to the TV.

“Do you want a game?” Danny ran to get the controls. “I may be useless on the pitch but on this thing – just call me Ronaldo.”

“We’ll see,” Declan grinned, taking a control.

Gina looked at herself in her dressing-table mirror and groaned. “I look terrible.”

“You just look a bit tired. I don’t know why, because you went to bed so early last night. You should have stayed up longer with me and Uncle Tom,” her mum said.

“No way! What’s he playing at, trying to take us all out on Dad’s birthday; buying you that dress and those ridiculous shoes?”

“Tom’s always been generous. He’s just looking out for us, now that Dad isn’t here. It’s lovely of him. You need to stop this terrible attitude you’ve got towards him,” her mum ordered. “Anyway, you’re a sly one, not telling me about this Declan.”

“That’s because there’s nothing
to
tell. I met him when I was out running yesterday.”

“And he’s on our doorstep this morning? He must be keen,” her mum teased.

“Nooo! He just likes running,” Gina said, hoping that wasn’t true.

“Well, hurry up. Don’t keep the poor boy waiting.”

Her mum left the room and Gina scrutinized her sleepy face. She opened the bottom drawer of her dressing table and pulled out a bag of make-up. The contents had once been well-used but, for the last eight months, bothering to put make-up on was the last thing on her mind. However, with Declan Doyle sitting downstairs, she suddenly felt the urge to delve into her bag once again.

Danny was three–one up when Gina appeared in the living room in her tracksuit, old trainers and a face that made him cry out, “Why have you got make-up on?”

“Shut up, will you?” Gina said, cringing in front of Declan.

“You’re only going running, aren’t you? You don’t wear make-up for running, do you, Declan?”

“Not personally,” Declan said, grinning. “But I think your sister looks good whether she’s got it on or not.”

Gina could feel her cheeks heating up.

“Uhh, I don’t want to know,” Danny said, pulling a disapproving face as Declan tried to hold in his laughter.

Gina stuck her tongue out at Danny as she walked over to the display shelf and momentarily cupped her hands around the urn. Declan looked puzzled but Danny ignored her as he concentrated on the game.

“Are you ready to go?” Gina said, heading for the door.

“No!” Danny protested. “Don’t make him go yet. The game’s only got five minutes and I’ve just got a corner.”

“Fine!” Gina smiled. “I’ll wait.” She plonked herself down on the sofa. It was obvious that Danny had taken to Declan and for some reason this made her happy.

“Mrs. Mac was on at me again last night about taking that job at the funeral parlour,” Declan said, taking a free kick. “I feel
really
cheeky asking you, Gina, especially after what you were saying, but do you know if that Tom has any jobs going at his warehouse?”

Gina couldn’t stop her face from falling.
So that’s why he’s here. He’s after a job.

“God, I hope you don’t think that I’m using you, Gina,” Declan said, reading her expression. “I really did come round because I wanted to see you, but I just thought there was no harm asking. I’m desperate not to end up working with dead bodies all day. I just need something to get Mrs. Mac off my back.”

Gina could tell he meant it. “Okay, I’ll ask him. He’ll give you a job.”

“Really?” Declan said, surprised.

“Yeah,” Danny piped up. “Uncle Tom would do anything for Gina because she’s being really mean to him and he wants to make her like him.”

“Be quiet, Danny!” Gina said.

“It’s true! You should start being nice to Uncle Tom, it’s not fair on him.”

“Look, I don’t want to cause a fight between you two,” Declan said.

“It’s fine. I’ll ask him,” she said curtly.

“Thanks, Gina, I really appreciate it,” Declan said, bathing her in his radiant smile.

“Yeah, whatever.” She tried to sound annoyed but couldn’t suppress a little smile.

“Now, what about this run?” he said. “There’s a burger place about half a mile away. How about we run there?”

BOOK: Blood Tracks
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