Skin Deep (25 page)

Now Beth’s boyfriend was more of a problem. Mostly when I came across lads my own age, they were travellers or townies. I knew how to talk to travellers, and the townies generally wanted to kick my head in, but Max didn’t and I had no idea how to get along with him.

I realised he was watching me out of the corner of his eye and I hunched closer round Jenna. A few seconds later, I noticed him move closer to Beth, holding her tighter. Interesting.

Next time I saw him watching us, I slid my hands down to rest on Jenna’s tummy and pull her back against me. She skewed her head round to look at me and I kissed her scrunched nose.

Sure enough, I saw Max’s hands drift lower and he gave Beth a squeeze.

I sniggered, remembering he was younger than me. He didn’t know how much he could get away with – thought he’d try copying me. Maybe I should take him aside and give him the benefit of my experience.

The temptation to turn this into a competition was irresistible. I tilted my head and kissed Jenna’s neck, down and then up again, and nuzzled her jaw.

His move.

Max stared fixedly at the fireworks shooting over the Mere. He was obviously not brave enough to try that one! Eventually he hugged Beth harder and gave her a quick peck on the ear.

Nowhere near! I win!

‘Will you behave?’ Jenna murmured.

‘What?’ I whispered back.

‘I know what you’re doing. Stop showing off.’

I chuckled and she trod on my foot.

A bit later, Max and I went to the food van to get the girls jacket potatoes and Cokes while they saved us a spot in front of the bonfire. Max shuffled from foot to foot as we waited in line.

‘So, er, you and Jenna, that’s . . . er . . . well, it’s great.’

I dead-eyed him. ‘Yeah.’

‘I mean, she’s great. Um, not that I know her that well. But Beth talks about her all the time and she obviously is great if Beth likes her because . . . er . . .’

‘Yeah.’ Dumb-ass.

He squirmed under my glare. ‘Um, Beth cares a lot about her.’

‘Right.’

He took a deep breath. ‘So, not that this is any of my business, but like I said Beth cares a lot about her and . . . um, she’d hate to see her get hurt.’ He stood up a bit straighter, but he was still half a head shorter than me. ‘And so would I.’

I stared down at him. He held my gaze though I could tell he wanted to look away. ‘Yeah, join the club.’

He let his breath out and smiled. ‘Oh, great. Oh, look I’m sorry. I promised Beth that I’d . . . well . . . um . . .’

‘Check me out?’

He made to take a step back and stopped himself. ‘Um, I guess. Er, sorry . . .’

I let him wriggle a bit longer and then laughed and shoved him, but not hard. ‘No worries. I’d do it if she was my girlfriend’s mate.’

‘You would?’ Max sighed in relief.

I grinned at him. I liked him better for that. He was all right. ‘Yeah. Hey, what do those two want on their spuds? I forgot to ask.’

‘Get ’em tuna. And Diet Coke.’ Max said, rolling his eyes. ‘Beth thinks she’s fat.’

‘You know how to fix that? Next time you see a picture of one of those supermodels, you know, the bag of bones ones, just sniff and say “Too thin” and look all
ewww
! Then get real huggy with Beth.’

‘You think?’ He smiled cautiously.

‘No, I know. Trust me.’

His smile widened. ‘OK, I will. Thanks.’

I waved to Charlie as we got to the front of the queue and he trotted over. ‘What do you want on yours?’

‘Beans and sausages. And a Coke, please.’

I passed them down to him when the guy behind the counter served up. ‘Having a good time?’

He looked at me like I was an alien life form. Probably thought I was – he had seen me kissing his sister. ‘Yes.’

Were little kids supposed to be this hard to talk to? I looked at Max.

‘Did you think the fireworks were exciting?’ Max asked. Even I knew that was a mistake. He was ten, not three.

Charlie snorted. ‘Seen better.’ He turned and headed back to his friend.

Max glared at him. ‘Isn’t he supposed to think we’re cool or something at his age?’

‘He’s a brat,’ said Jenna, materialising by my shoulder and taking her food. ‘And girls are icky, so that makes you two dorks.’

I could live with her brat brother thinking I was a dork because she looked like she was having a good time. The worry crease between her eyebrows had disappeared, and she was laughing as Beth pulled a face at Charlie’s back.

The forensics tests had to be back soon. It’d been over a week. Then her dad would stop shutting himself in his study and her mum would stop stressing, and Jenna could concentrate on me. I laughed at myself – sad or what? But yeah, I liked having all her attention.

A few days after Bonfire Night, I got something else beside Dad’s tests to worry about
.
We were in the village shop. Mum was at the till paying for a sauce mix.

‘Having fish tonight, Tanya?’ Mrs Crombie asked.

‘Yes, I forgot to buy some last time I was at the supermarket so I’ve had to rush down here. Honestly, it’s coming to something when you daren’t send one of the kids out in broad daylight.’

‘I know. Terrible business. Mrs Carlisle was in here the other day. She looks a wreck, poor thing. You can’t imagine anyone local doing something so terrible. I said as much to the police.’

I glanced over at Mum from the magazine rack where I was browsing. Her face blanked as Mrs Crombie gabbled on.

‘They’ll have been round to yours, with their questions? They were here ages. I thought they were never going. I don’t think there’s a family in the village they didn’t interrogate us about. It’s awful – doesn’t feel right to talk about neighbours in that way, but I suppose you have to when something like this happens.’ She hesitated. ‘Asked a lot of questions about your Clive, they did.’

‘Oh,’ Mum said stiffly.

Mrs Crombie’s gossip sensors homed in on Mum’s shuttered face. ‘They grilled my Derek too. He was out walking the dog around the time it happened. He told them in no uncertain terms that the Carlisles are respected customers.’ She stopped, her voice faltering a little. ‘I mean, you know he was never keen on me being involved in the action group, Tanya. Not that he doesn’t support the principle or . . . but, well, he doesn’t like upsetting customers.’ She gave Mum an apologetic smile. ‘You know, they even asked us about poor John Norman.’

Mum frowned. ‘About John? Why?’

‘They didn’t say. Just asked if we knew anything about his movements on the night Steven died.’

Mum’s face clouded in anger. ‘Hasn’t that poor man had enough to deal with? He never goes out now. Why would they want to know about him?’

‘That’s what I said. I took a box of groceries around for him that day once I closed the shop. He was in his pyjamas and robe when he answered the door. I don’t think he bothers getting dressed a lot of the time since Lindsay died.’

‘No, well, he’s not been himself at all since he lost her.’

Mrs Crombie nodded as she scanned the sauce through the till. ‘It’s a terrible thing, they say, to lose a child. You can understand him not being the man he was. That’s why I was glad my Derek noticed the lights were on in John’s sitting room when he took the dog out.’

‘That was lucky,’ Mum said flatly. I wondered what Mr Crombie had said about seeing or not seeing Dad. Mum wouldn’t ask, but I could tell she was worried too.

‘Yes, and when Derek was on his way back, he saw John through the glass in the front door, shutting up the house for the night. If he hadn’t, I bet they’d have questioned that poor soul within an inch of his life too.’

I wondered if Mr Crombie had caught nosiness from his wife.

‘And then they started on about David Morris. Pestering and pestering. When your Clive left his place, it seems David had a stroll down to the Green Man for a quick half before closing.’ She paused for breath to take the money Mum was proffering. ‘Thanks. And can you believe this? They’ve only had him down the station to do one of those DNA tests on him because he was walking back before closing time. I never in all my days heard the like. Can’t even walk around your own village without being accused of all kinds.’

Nosy old bat! She’d heard something about Dad. I was sure of it. And now she was testing Mum out.

Mum picked the parsley sauce off the counter, ready to make her escape, but Mrs Crombie leapt in again before she could make a dash for it. ‘Anyway, I said to those police, if you ask me, it should be that boy they’re looking for.’

‘What boy?’ Mum asked, out of politeness for her eyes were on the door.

‘The one who was in here throwing his weight about that night. Never seen him before. Buying alcohol, Tanya. Aggressive, he was. He scared me, I don’t mind telling you –’

‘Mum?’ I tugged her sleeve hard, wishing I had psychic powers and could bring the shelf above Mrs Crombie’s head crashing down on her. ‘Can we go now?’ I practically dragged Mum from the store before she realised who the old witch was talking about.

By three o’clock on Saturday afternoon, the Winter Market in the town square swarmed with shoppers carrying packed bags of early Christmas presents
.
From what I’d heard, every market from now to mid-December would be just as busy. People came from miles. The sweet, musky smell of chestnuts roasting on a brazier made my mouth water. I scouted the sea of faces looking for Jenna. Meet her by the clock tower in the square, she’d said, but if I saw her on the way, I’d run up behind her and make her jump.

I heard the disturbance ahead before I saw it. A voice carrying over all the other babble. It turned my blood to ice.

‘You! Come on! You! You want to buy this . . . Why’re you pretending you can’t hear me? Look at me! I’m not invisible. Here, you can see me, can’t you?’

The crowd ahead of me began to disperse. People moved away in that small town way, where making a scene is a crime equivalent to murder. In a few seconds the row I was in was all but empty. The shoppers moved on to other stalls. Their eyes appeared to be fixed on the goods for sale, but they were secretly watching the spectacle.

Seeing the mad woman in the market screaming at no one, at everyone. Seeing my mum.

‘So I’m invisible, am I? Well, to hell with you! To hell with all of you and your poxy lives.’

Everyone watched and didn’t watch with their special brand of English embarrassment, as she scooped up handfuls of beads and bracelets.

‘Who will buy? Who will buy?’ she sang out, in some tune she’d told me was from a musical. She used to sing it to me when I was a kid, sitting me on her knee and singing it in my ear just for me.

She hadn’t seen me. The hairs on the back of my neck prickled up with shame and I slid behind the nearest stall for cover.

She whirled around in a dance to the music in her head, spreading her arms and looking up at the sky. Beads scattered from her hands to rattle on the cobbles.

‘None of you are free,’ she shouted. ‘All afraid to be yourselves.’

I knew I had to stop her, but I couldn’t move. Just couldn’t. Rooted there.

Then I saw a familiar figure trotting towards her and I caught my breath.

‘Karen! Hey, Karen!’

Mum turned.

Jenna rushed up to her. ‘Hi! I didn’t realise you were over here. I’ve been wandering around for ages. Are you packing up? I’ll buy you a coffee. There’s a great café over there. I’m starving. I bet you are too. Shall we go?’

Mum’s arms, still outstretched stiffly, went slowly round Jenna as she woke from wherever it was she’d been. ‘Oh hello, sweetie.’

‘I’ll help you pack up,’ Jenna said. ‘We can beat the rush if we go now. Oh, they have organic cakes – I’m sure the banana nut brownie is vegan. I bet you’ll like that.’ Jenna chirped at her as if nothing weird was going on. As if Mum was just any normal person she knew. She grabbed Mum’s hand and tugged her back to the stall. ‘Let’s put these away.’ She handed Mum a box. Slowly, dazed, Mum began to gather her things.

Jenna continued to chatter. ‘This yellow crystal necklace is beautiful, Karen. Are you going to make more of those?’

Gradually the people around me began to move on and talk again, quietly at first, eyes still warily on the crazy, but then louder – back to normal.

My hands were shaking and a ball that felt like granite was lodged in my throat. Because Jenna, Jenna who hated people staring at her, Jenna had done that.

I made my legs move.

I went over to join them, picked up a box and piled stuff into it. I couldn’t speak.

We packed up without a word. Mum looked like she wasn’t really there, like she didn’t know I was either. Jenna stacked the boxes and I picked them up, with my chin on top to balance them. She linked her arm through Mum’s. ‘OK, coffee shop, my treat!’ she said. I trailed behind them.