Dangerous to Know (13 page)

After that, it was all a bit Thank-you and goodnight, ladies and gentlemen. We swept back across the lawn, hand in hand; I felt like I could breathe again properly now she was here, as if all week a great heavy weight had been pressing against my chest.

Now it was just me and Bethany.

Everyone and everything else was nothing but a blur of colour and light. We went back into the tent, danced, holding each other, lost in the gathering crowd. The champagne lake had done its work and now pretty much everyone was dancing, or trying to: a sweaty tangle of glitter, fur, sweat-shiny skin and swirling black cloaks clouded by cigarette smoke.

Time flashed by; I don’t think we were at all scared of being caught any more. We just had each other, circling slowly around the dance floor, close together. I was still wearing my mask. I saw Sammy once, talking to an old guy in a cowboy hat, and Jono twice. He was with a different girl each time.

I saw Bethany’s dad, too, sitting at a table towards the back of the tent: tall and very thin, dressed as a knight, talking to an overweight woman in medieval gear who smiled too much.

At last, Bethany drew me away from the crowd. The funk band had long since packed up; a floppy-haired blonde guy was DJ-ing (badly) – playing a load of seventies stuff like Abba and the Stones. I didn’t mind the Stones but Abba was too much.

We went outside into the cool night, back among the apple trees. Bethany was breathless with laughter, lab coat drawn tight around her shoulders. I was freezing but I wrapped her in my cloak (an old dining-room curtain: properly sad but neither of us were complaining).

“You must be freezing.” She held me closer and we pressed against each other, leaning back on the apple tree. I could still hear the music: it was getting worse and worse, but somehow it was funny.

“Not with you here,” I said, and she handed me a cigarette.

What she said next totally threw me.

“Jack, are you OK?”

I blew out a cloud of smoke, feeling cold inside, like something bad was going to happen. “Why wouldn’t I be? I’m here with you.” I smiled.

Bethany shrugged, looking suddenly awkward and quite sober, as if she’d remembered we’d only met each other a few weeks before. There was so much about each other we didn’t know. I dug the fingers of my free hand down into the grass, holding on to the world as it was.

“Well,” she said. “Your brother – Herod. I mean him being missing and everything. I’ve been thinking about it all week. I feel so bad about my mum, what she said. She can be such a stupid cow.”

I could have cried with relief. Honestly. I thought she was about to end it. There’d been a shadow in her eyes when she spoke.

I told her about Owen and Natasha, how they’d come home.

“It’s because they’re twins,” I said. “Owen and Herod. They’re kind of weirdly connected. Owen said he just had a feeling that he had to come back.”

“No sign of Herod, then?” Bethany went on, taking the cigarette, eyes fixed on me. The silver glitter had spread all over her face now. She shone, full of light, but that was really just the mushrooms. “Isn’t that a bit weird? I mean, wouldn’t he phone?”

“The police are looking for him.” Saying so made it more real. I shut my eyes.

“Oh, Jack,” Bethany whispered. She reached out, pushed the hair away from my eyes. Her touch was hot; it burnt me.

“She called my dad, too. Not that it’ll make any difference. I don’t know why she even bothered. He doesn’t give a toss about us.”

“I’m sure he does,” she said. “You’re his kids.”

“I haven’t seen him for two years. He lives in California.”

Bethany frowned. “That’s really shit – even if they are divorced and everything. It doesn’t sound like he makes much of an effort.”

“He doesn’t. He’s a twat, anyway. I don’t care.”

Bethany turned to face me, serious. “Oh, come on. You don’t need to lie to me. I can tell that you don’t really think that.”

“OK, I do care. It annoys me that he doesn’t bother. It’s just so lame. I’m used to it, though.”

What I liked was the way Bethany didn’t try to tell me everything was going to be all right. Her total honesty.

I took a long breath. She waited for me to speak. Was I really going to say it, after all these years? Admit it to someone? Those counsellors had tried everything short of the rack to get this out of me. Was I now going to unload it onto a girl I wanted to be with every minute of the day, a girl with long dark hair and silver light around her face. I could almost hear Jono’s voice in my head:
Shut up, Jack. Do you want her to think you’re a pussy?

The words spilled from my lips anyway.

I closed my eyes. I could see it all.

“Tell me,” Bethany whispered. “If you want to.”

Once I’d started talking, it was hard to stop. “OK. You know how I said Herod went to see a psychiatrist. They sent him to hospital and he was there for weeks whilst they tried to get his medication sorted out.”

Bethany just held on to my hand, waited. This was the first time it had ever felt right to talk about what had happened to Herod.

“When Herod came out of hospital the first time, it was like he’d been changed into someone else,” I said. “I was only about ten – it was pretty freaky. You know how I said the anti-psychotic drugs made him fat? Well, it wasn’t just a bit. He got really massive. He’d stopped saying weird things, though. He used to get this blank look on his face before – when he was hearing voices – and that totally stopped as well. And he wasn’t interested in clay any more, either. That really was strange.”

“So was Herod a proper artist, then?” Bethany asked.

I nodded. “He made these amazing sculptures of flowers and leaves, that kind of thing. The school used to order in porcelain clay just for him. All his work was paper-thin – really delicate. But the medication he had to take stopped all that. Herod said it shut down his mind; he hated that even more than being fat. He said it was like being in a house with most of the rooms locked. He’d missed too much school to go back, but he volunteered with a conservation charity for a while, although that stopped after a bit. He wasn’t OK. Not really. We just wanted to think that he was.”

I stopped. The whole thing replayed in my head like a film. It was the school holidays. Summer. Mum was at work and it was only ten in the morning, so Owen was out somewhere, still in the middle of the night before; I was at home with Louis and Herod.

“This bloody student, Jack,” Louis told me, “has written a thesis so completely boring that I am falling asleep. I need coffee. Will you be OK for fifteen minutes while I run to the shop?”

Both of us thought Herod was just hanging out in his room as usual. He couldn’t sleep at night so he used to stay in bed most of the day.

“I’ll be fine,” I said, “as long as you get me some crisps.”

Louis laughed. “Maybe – if you’re lucky.” I was never one of those kids who wished their parents would get back together: Louis was a hell of a lot nicer than my dad. Even I could see that. Louis always had time for me.

I still don’t know what made me go upstairs. It was very quiet, but the radio was on downstairs in the kitchen. The sun was shining on the stairs, showing up the dust in the carpet.

“One day,” I told Bethany, “I went up to Herod’s room. He was sitting on the bed, facing the door, holding a white bottle of pills. Paracetamol. ‘I just want it to be over,’ he said. There were two more bottles lying on the floor with the lids off, empty. He’d taken the lot. You don’t even need that many.”

Bethany sat silently, waiting for me to go on. Saying nothing, she stroked the back of my hand with one finger. I was starting to feel cold, sitting out there by that apple tree, but her touch sent waves of heat rolling through me.

What are you doing?
I asked myself, furiously.
We’re at a party. We’re meant to be having a good time
. I was going to bring her down, massively, but somehow I just had to say it.

“I kind of ran at him and knocked the last bottle out of his hand. He was chewing like crazy and there were pills all falling out his mouth. He was trying to wash them down with wine. He had this bottle open.

“I managed to get to the window. I yelled for help and Louis was down there, my step-dad, just coming back from the shops. He called an ambulance and they pumped Herod’s stomach at the hospital.”

That wasn’t all they’d done.

I remember the frozen fear on Louis’ face as he looked up and saw me, dropping his bag on the pavement as he ran to the front door. The plastic bag split and a silver pack of coffee skidded across the concrete.

“He tried to kill himself. That’s mainly why Herod was sectioned that second time – you know, forced to stay in hospital. That time it wasn’t just a few weeks. They gave him loads of drugs. He was there for ages.”

I stopped talking and lit a fag, taking a long, deep draw. Bethany put her arm around my shoulder. We leaned together. I felt relieved, lighter somehow, as if I’d finally just put down a heavy load. “What a horrible, horrible thing to see,” she said, “your own brother in a state like that, wanting to die.”

I could tell her anything. I trusted her.

I stared at the cigarette smoke, feeling dizzy. The champagne bottle was cold in my hand. I took a swig but I could barely taste the stuff any more, just sugary sweetness on my lips.

“So,” I said, just to break the silence, really, “I can see why your mum freaked out when she found out who I was. My brother smoked too much dope and went mad, tried to top himself. At least now you know what really happened.” I paused. “Look. I’ll understand if you don’t want to know. I mean, I’m a fuck-up.”

Bethany frowned. “Give me the champagne.” She took a swig and turned to me. “I think I’m falling in love with you, Jack.”

I stared at her; I forgot everything else.

I answered with a kiss. Five minutes later, it all began to fall apart.

“Bethany!” I heard someone say. “I’ve been looking for you everywhere. Your poor father was exhausted; I drove him home hours ago. Where on earth have you been? You knew he’d be too tired to stay long.”

“Oh, God, it’s Mum,” Bethany muttered. We stood up, hand in hand, turning to face her.

At first Angela just looked confused. Then her face changed, hardened, when she got a proper look at me. Her mouth opened slightly, as if she couldn’t believe what she was seeing.

“What the bloody hell is he doing here? What do you think you’re doing?” Angela spoke in a low, furious hiss. Actually much more scary than shouting. If she hadn’t been so worried how it would look to other people, she would have raked my face to shreds with her expensively manicured fingernails.

“Don’t talk to her like that,” I said, sharply.

“You stupid girl, Bethany. I can’t believe you’ve actually done this!” Angela hissed. She was spitting mad. “Do you have any idea how upset Daddy is going to be? How dare you? This boy is a bad influence, and we’ve made our feelings clear. My God, I just don’t know how you can be so selfish – and
stupid
. Especially at the moment.”

“Don’t bring Dad into it!” Bethany shouted. I’d never seen her look so angry. She really did have guts. “It was
your
idea I shouldn’t see Jack. Not his. Wasn’t it?”

“That’s enough! All you care about is yourself, young lady. It makes me sick, absolutely sick. Your father deserves better than this. You’re just making everything worse.”

Bethany looked as if she’d been kicked. Her shoulders dropped, the light went out of her face, as if some invisible vampire had sucked the life from her body.

“That’s not fair,” I said. “You can’t blame Bethany because he’s ill. It’s not her fault.”

Angela turned to me. Her face was still twisted with anger. “Right, come with me. I’m taking you home, Jack. We’ll see what your parents have got to say about this, shall we?”

“Mum,
don’t
!” Bethany’s eyes were bright, as if she was trying not to cry.

“Be quiet!” snapped Angela. “I’ve heard enough from you for one evening. I hope you realize this puts an end to your Glastonbury plans, Bethany. You clearly can’t be trusted. And to think I was prepared to give you another chance after what you did last weekend. You must think I came down in the last shower of rain. Come with me this minute, both of you – I’ve absolutely had enough.”

For a moment I thought about legging it – there was nothing I wanted less than to get into a car with that woman, but at the same time I didn’t want to leave Bethany to face her mother alone. By the time they’d dropped me off, maybe Angela would have cooled down a bit.

“It’s all right,” I said to Bethany. “Don’t worry.”

“Jack, I—” Tears slid silently down her face.

“Not another word,” said Angela, in this really evil voice.

We followed her to the car in silence.

It was the worst car journey of my entire life. I had to sit in the front and Bethany on her own in the back as if I was some kind of potential rapist who might attack at any moment. Luckily, I’d started feeling a bit less trippy, but I was still pretty hammered and, by then, really horribly wide awake; I didn’t dare look across at Angela in the driver’s seat. Bethany sat behind me; I felt like I could hear the beating of her heart. It was killing me being so close, yet not touching.

Angela drove properly badly – stalling at the traffic lights outside town, revving the engine too hard, taking corners really fast. I was terrified she might hit something. Her jaw was set totally rigid; her hands gripped the steering wheel like horrible claws. God, I hated her. How could Bethany have such a hideous mother?

And again, as soon as I saw our house, I knew something was wrong. For one thing, a light was on in the basement: I could see the glow striking up through the wrought iron grid, hitting street level. Someone was in the kitchen. And there was a big, shiny car parked in the visitor’s permit space next to our wreck of a Ford. OK, so it could have belonged to anyone down our road.

It looked like a hire car, though.

Angela pulled up outside the house so suddenly we were all jerked forwards in our seats.