See If I Care (7 page)

One bit of sky was still missing. Luke pointed to the gap.

‘Look, Dad, we need a blue piece here, OK?’

His father looked down at the half-finished scene on the table. ‘We need a blue piece here, OK,’ he said. He scanned the scattered jigsaw pieces. ‘We need a blue piece here, OK.’ He picked up a piece that was mostly green with a tiny bit of blue in one corner and held it out to Luke. ‘OK?’

It was clearly not the bit they needed, but Luke took it and tried to fit it in. ‘No, that’s not it. We need another one.’ But just then a dog began to bark outside, and his father’s head swung towards the window.

Luke found another three pieces and fitted them into their places, and then he pushed back his chair and stood up. ‘Let’s do some more later, OK?’ As if the two of them were doing it together.

His father nodded, still turned towards the window. ‘Do some more later, OK?’

In the kitchen Luke’s mother finished loading the two-week-old washing machine and straightened up. ‘OK, love?’

‘Yeah.’ Luke watched her pressing the buttons, twirling the temperature knob. A second later he heard the gush of water as the cycle began. Funny how he thought something like a new washing machine could make anyone happy. It hadn’t changed things at all, this shiny new thing in the corner of the kitchen. His mother still looked tired and sad most of the time. Helen still went around with what Granny called a face as long as a wet week. His father – well, of course his father hadn’t changed. And Anne was still bringing her bundled-up sheets downstairs at least twice a week.

And the worst thing of all was that they didn’t even own the washing machine, not properly. They wouldn’t own it for another six months, because of what happened to Luke the day he went to buy it.

Christmas had gone pretty well, considering.
There hadn’t been any rows between Helen and Mam, and everyone had actually got a present for everyone else, even if Helen only managed a chocolate bar each – Luke got an Aero – and Anne’s presents were poems for everyone. This was what she wrote about Luke:

Luke thought it was actually pretty good for a seven-year-old. Anne had written the poem out carefully in purple ink and stuck different coloured stars all around it.

This year, Granny had given each of the three children a ten-euro book token. Mam got clothes for everyone – a sweatshirt for Luke, a skirt for Anne and a top for Helen.

Luke’s father, of course, didn’t give out any presents. He watched as the others were being distributed, a half smile on his face. When he was handed something he took it with a look of faint surprise and held it in his lap until Mam or Granny opened it for him, and then put it somewhere else.

Everyone loved Luke’s presents. Even Helen smiled slightly when she opened the envelope and pulled out the HMV voucher.

‘Thanks, Lukey.’ She hadn’t called him Lukey in ages. Hadn’t called him anything in ages.

His father looked down at his new slippers, and then put a hand briefly on Luke’s arm. ‘Yeah,’ he said. ‘Nice, yeah.’

Anne gave a scream of delight when she saw her new annual, and then threw her arms around Luke. ‘Thank you sooo much, Lukey, it’s brilliant.’ Granny told him the drawer liners were just what she always wanted, and Mam hugged him tightly when he gave her the body lotion and hand cream, and whispered, ‘Thanks, love’.

And all through the dinner, and afterwards, when they were sitting in front of the telly (except for Helen, who’d gone upstairs, and Dad, who was having a nap), Luke kept thinking about getting the new washing machine, and imagining Mam’s face when she saw it.

On Friday morning he’d lain in bed, waiting for the day to start. As soon as he heard Mam getting up for work he dressed quickly, shivering in the icy bedroom air, and followed her downstairs.

She looked up in surprise as he walked into the
kitchen. ‘What are you up so early for?’

‘I need to get something in town.’ He waited for her to ask what – he was dying to say ‘a surprise’ – but she just nodded.

‘Have a bit of breakfast and you can come in with me.’

It was nice to have her to himself. Usually Granny was around, or Anne. He took two slices of bread from the loaf and dropped them into the toaster. ‘You know my penfriend?’ he said.

‘The girl in England?’ Mam was spreading marmalade on her toast.

Luke nodded. ‘They have plum pudding for Christmas, and they pour brandy on it and set it on fire.’

Mam didn’t look surprised, like he thought she would. ‘A lot of people do that,’ she said. ‘I just think it’s a waste of brandy.’

‘Yeah.’ Luke thought for a minute, watching the inside of the toaster getting red. ‘I made up a few things when I started to write to her first,’ he said.

‘You did?’ Mam looked across the kitchen at him. ‘Like what?’

Luke shrugged, feeling her eyes on him. ‘Oh just… that I had a tattoo, and blue hair, and stuff.’ He paused. ‘And that Dad was a famous astronaut, and
that we had a big house with loads of horses, and a lake in the back garden.’ The bread was turning golden.

‘Why did you say all that?’ Mam didn’t sound cross, just curious.

Luke began to be sorry he’d started. ‘I dunno … maybe because I didn’t want …’ he paused, not sure how to put it. Then he said, ‘I didn’t want her to feel sorry for me.’

Mam picked up her toast and took a bite. She chewed it slowly, and when she’d swallowed it she said, ‘You mean about Dad.’

Luke nodded, wishing he could go back a few sentences and keep his mouth closed. The toast popped up suddenly, startling him.

‘You miss him, don’t you?’ Mam’s voice was very gentle.

The tears in his eyes took him by surprise. He blinked them away quickly and lifted the toast out and brought it over to the table.

‘It’s OK – I miss him too,’ Mam said, as he sat across from her. She put a hand on Luke’s. ‘But you shouldn’t be ashamed of what happened – it wasn’t your fault.’

A tear slid down Luke’s cheek and plopped onto the table. He pulled his hand away from hers and
wiped roughly at his eyes. ‘If the party wasn’t on–’

‘Don’t think like that.’ Mam interrupted him loudly. ‘Stop thinking like that. The party had nothing to do with it, nothing. Dad could have been coming from anywhere, and it could still have happened.’ Then she said in a softer voice, ‘OK?’

‘OK.’ Luke began to spread butter on his toast, struggling to keep more tears from falling. How had this conversation happened? He should never have mentioned his penfriend. He wished with all his heart that Mrs Hutchinson had never come up with the idea of getting penfriends for them.

He took a deep breath and then looked back at Mam with what he hoped was a fairly cheerful face. ‘OK.’ And for the rest of the breakfast neither of them mentioned Dad, or penfriends.

When Mam stood up to go, Luke said, ‘Hang on a sec,’ and ran upstairs. He shoved the receipt for the deposit he’d paid on the washing machine into his jeans pocket, and the brown envelope with the money into the pocket of his jacket. It made a rectangular bulge that he hoped Mam wouldn’t notice. As he ran downstairs again he tried to remember the name of the woman in the shop – Jennifer? Jane? Something that began with ‘J’ anyway. He was pretty sure he’d remember her when he saw her.

Mam dropped him outside the cinema. ‘Are you sure this is OK?’

Luke nodded. The cinema was about ten minutes’ walk from Brady’s Electrical, past a hospital and an office block, through a little park and around by some flats. ‘See you at home,’ he told his mother, and walked off.

It was a chilly day. Luke walked quickly, his jacket tightly buttoned and his hands jammed into the pockets. His left hand was wrapped around the bulky envelope. His breath fogged out in front of him. He passed the hospital and the offices, and turned into the park.

It was quiet there. Luke guessed that anyone who didn’t have to go to work today was still tucked up in bed. The few trees he passed were bare and cold looking. The flowerbeds were empty and brown, no sign of snowdrops yet. The two swings in the little play area hung silently, no wind to move them. Luke kicked at a stone, watched it skip along ahead of him before coming to rest at the feet of another boy, who stood on the path facing Luke.

He looked a bit older, although it was hard to see him properly, with the grey hood of his sweatshirt covering his head, and a black scarf knotted tightly around his neck and chin. Taller than Luke, too, and
thinner. He stood watching as Luke got nearer, not making any attempt to move out of his way.

Luke began to swerve around him, but the other boy put out a hand and jammed it into Luke’s chest. ‘Give us your phone.’ His other hand pointed towards the bulge in Luke’s left pocket. ‘C’mon.’

Luke’s heart thumped. He tried to pull away, but the boy’s fist was wrapped tightly around the front of Luke’s jacket. He snapped the fingers of his other hand. ‘Your phone – c’mon,’ he said, a bit louder now. ‘Give us it.’

‘I haven’t got a phone,’ Luke said, hating the tremble in his voice. In his pocket, his hand gripped the envelope tightly.

The boy swore loudly, and reached towards Luke’s pocket. ‘Give us here.’ He grabbed Luke’s left arm and began trying to yank Luke’s hand out of the pocket. He wore a thin leather wristband.

Luke knew it was useless – he’d have to try and fool the boy. He pulled out the envelope and held it up. ‘It’s not a phone, look. It’s just – a letter.’

It happened so fast: the boy grabbed the envelope, and pushed Luke backwards before racing away. Luke fell onto the grass and watched him, knowing he hadn’t a hope of catching him, or getting back the envelope even if he did. His heart was thumping
painfully in his chest, and one of his wrists hurt from trying to break his fall. He put his head in his hands and sat on the grass, shaking. His money, every cent he’d saved, was gone. The washing machine was gone. It was all over.

After a few minutes he stood up. He had no idea if he’d get his deposit back, but he may as well try. All they could say was no. His legs still trembled a bit as he walked slowly through the park and towards Brady’s Electrical. The main street was busier than he’d expected – most of the shop windows had big ‘Sale’ signs in them. He hoped he wouldn’t meet anyone he knew.

There were quite a few in Brady’s, but he spotted the woman straight away, talking to a couple in the corner. She noticed him after he’d been standing there for a few minutes, and signalled him to wait. Luke leant against a wall and wondered what she’d say when he told her he couldn’t buy the washing machine after all. Would she be cross, after holding on to it for him? After telling him they didn’t usually let people put deposits on things during the sale?

Jenny wasn’t cross. She put her hands to her cheeks as Luke told her what had happened. Then she took him into a little room behind the shop and sat him down and poured him a glass of warm
orange juice from a carton. She asked him if he was hurt, and if he’d reported the mugging to the police. She told him to wait there, and then she went away for what seemed like a long time.

Luke poured the juice carefully back into the carton – he thought he’d probably throw up if he drank it. His wrist ached, and he couldn’t seem to stop shivering, although it was warm in the little room.

Did Jenny believe him? Maybe she thought he’d changed his mind about buying the washing machine, and now he was just trying to get his money back. Maybe she was ringing the police to come and take him away for lying. Maybe Mam would have to come and collect him from the police station, like she’d collected him from the hospital the day everything changed.

But when Jenny came back, she was alone. She pulled a chair over and sat beside Luke.

‘Now, I’ve had a word with the boss,’ she told Luke. ‘He thinks it’s awful, what happened to you, and he says you can still get the washing machine, on interest-free credit, if you want.’

Luke looked at her. ‘What’s that?’ he asked. It sounded complicated.

‘It means that instead of paying for it all today, like you were going to, you can pay a bit every month
until you’ve paid the full amount,’ Jenny explained. ‘That’s called credit. Interest free means that you won’t pay anything extra, just what it costs.’

It sounded promising. Luke did some fast calculating. Jack gave him sixty euro a month, and he’d make at least another twenty from washing cars. ‘How much would I have to pay?’ he asked.

Jenny looked down at the pad she held. ‘Fifty euro a month,’ she said, ‘for six months.’ She looked back at Luke. ‘How does that sound?’

‘Fine.’ So Mam would have to wait six months for her new machine – but it was a lot better than not getting it at all. Just as well Luke hadn’t said anything about it at home.

‘One more thing.’ Jenny paused. ‘You can’t sign the credit agreement – it has to be a person over eighteen. Now I know you want it to be a surprise for your mam, so how about your dad? Could he come in and sign for you?’

Luke shook his head, his heart sinking. He might have known it was too good to be true. ‘He had an accident,’ he told Jenny. ‘He’s – he never goes out any more.’ He didn’t tell her that Dad hadn’t written a word since the accident, couldn’t write his name now. ‘Maybe I could get my granny …’ he began uncertainly. How would Granny feel about signing?

Jenny was watching him carefully. ‘I’ll tell you what,’ she said. ‘I’ll sign, if you like.’

Luke looked at her. ‘You?’ He wasn’t sure how big a deal it was, signing a credit agreement for someone, but he guessed it was pretty big. Especially when you didn’t know the person you were signing for. Especially when the person was just a kid.

‘I’ll sign,’ Jenny told him. ‘I have a feeling about you. I don’t think you’ll let me down.’ Then she smiled. ‘And even if you do, I could use a new washing machine myself.’

For the first time since the bad thing in the park, Luke felt his heart lifting. ‘Thank you,’ he said. It didn’t sound like enough, but he couldn’t think what else to say.