The Baby (18 page)

Ben hates it. But has to listen.

‘A couple of times he hit me around the head.' She lifts her eyes fleetingly. ‘I actually saw stars when he did that. Like they say in the films.'

Nicola's mouth is O-shaped, her eyes round and frightened.

‘But the hair pulling was the worst. That happened the most, usually because of something I was wearing or if I was talking to a boy.'

He hates the way her fingers are twisting round themselves. Wants to wrap his arms around her.

‘I kept meaning to say something, I kept meaning to put a stop to it. It made me feel ashamed.' She exhales a wobble of breath. ‘But he was always so nice afterwards. So kind of tender and sorry. I always knew he felt bad. And besides, there was never a mark or blood or even a bruise.'

‘God, Livvy. I had no idea.' Nicola's face is stricken. Like she's missed the worst, most obvious secret in the world. ‘What a bastard.'

‘I knew it was wrong, but I didn't know how to stop it.'

Nicola stares at Ben. ‘Did you know?'

Shakes his head. ‘I sometimes wondered. He's pretty messed up.'

Olivia agrees. ‘Yeah, when his mum left he went all weird. He got angry. He took it out on other people.'

Ben grimaces. ‘So he turned the tables and started bullying everyone else. It's no excuse though.'

Nicola's eyebrows rise under her fringe. She turns to Olivia. ‘And you still stayed with him? I can't believe that.'

Olivia lowers her chin on to her chest. ‘It sounds stupid, but sometimes he was all I had. He was all I knew. I thought this happened everywhere. His mum leaving like she did and my mum being so worried about Alice and … sometimes it was
nice to know that I had someone whenever I wanted. Someone who loved me.' She searches Ben's eyes. ‘And most of the time he was really nice to me. Made me feel special.'

Ben thinks hard. He wants to say so many things: about how slapping someone around isn't love. How sleeping with your best friend isn't making anyone feel special. But he can sense Nicola cringing beside him, pushing herself into the cushions, so he takes a breath and stops himself.

Leave it. Don't spoil it now they're back together again
.

One more question then he'll have to change the subject. Things have got too heavy. ‘What about Eliza? Do you still want him near her?'

Both girls look at each other; pass a glance which he doesn't really understand.

‘I don't think he'll be like that with her. I think it was more a girlfriend thing. I just think he was incredibly jealous. Besides, he swears blind he doesn't do that sort of thing any more. Says he's getting help.' She puts her hand on Nicola's. Nicola nods silently. Thoughts whirring round her eyes like one-armed bandits. ‘I think he's changed.'

Nobody says anything.

Olivia breaks the silence. With a sniff and an exaggerated toss of her hair she suddenly smiles, like she's just unearthed some treasure. ‘Besides …' She narrows her eyes drawing in both Ben and Nicola ‘… he's not the only one who's changed.' She grins. ‘I might have moved on.'

Immediately, Ben sits upright. ‘What's that supposed to mean?'

‘Oh my God!' says a delighted Nicola. ‘With Blake?' The change in atmosphere is like a whirlwind.

Deliberately knocking back the last of her vodka, with the timing of a pro, Olivia looks from one friend's expectant face to the next. Her grin widens by the second. She even closes her eyes for added affect. ‘We-ell it just so happens that on the way to Biology last week, a certain Blake Johnson finally asked me out. We're official.'

Ben wonders if his eardrums may get perforated by the high-pitched screeching coming from Nicola. He's not quite sure who is the most excited. But actually, in the end, it really doesn't matter. He's pleased for her. Pleased she's found somebody else and pleased she's back with Nicola. Back to their solid little triangle. It's a good feeling.

So he pours himself another vodka.

‘It's my birthday in a fortnight. Can you get a babysitter, Nic? I was thinking Nando's and a film … you, me and Livvy, like old times.'

Nicola flicks her hair and grimaces. ‘I'll see what I can do. I'm a bit skint right now …' she raises her eyebrows, ‘as I'm sure you can imagine.'

Turns to Olivia, who is playing with her nails. ‘Livvy? What about you?'

Olivia sighs and starts to look anxious, it doesn't feel good under his skin. ‘Sorry, I'm busy on the Friday and Saturday and Mum won't let me out on the Sunday because I have an exam on the Monday. You know what she's like.'

Ben pushes the fleshy part of his finger where he thinks a
spot will develop underneath his eye. It hurts. But who cares? Nobody will be around to notice whether he's spotty on his birthday anyhow. He tries not to feel disappointed and letdown. Things have changed. It's only natural.

Wednesday lunchtimes are crap. Most of the kids have to fend for themselves as all the teaching staff have a meeting. The corridors and dining halls are dotted with lunchtime staff but the heavier presence of teachers is absent.

The sixth-form centre isn't usually too bad. But this Wednesday the centre is being redecorated, and all the students are kicked out into the main body of the school.

He and Olivia meet up in the noisy dining hall, they have both forgotten what a hellhole the place can be, and they're both relieved when, two baguettes later, they make their way out of the room.

They deposit themselves in the computer suite where Olivia has some coursework to finish. Ben dumps his jacket on the seat next to her. ‘I'll meet you back here. Just going for a piss.'

‘Nice.' Olivia moans, but is now concentrating upon her password. ‘See you in a minute.'

Ben saunters through the corridor, his mind on Josh. Imagining that full mouth. Picturing the back of his neck as he left the cafe on Saturday. It was a pale slash of skin which looked like it had only recently seen the light of day. As if he'd just had his hair cut. He wonders, with a lump in his throat, what it would be like to press his lips on that small
patch of skin.

He doesn't see Jonty and his mates lined either side of the toilet door. His mind is too far gone.

It's only when he hears, ‘Faggot alert,' that he looks up in surprise. He sees the smirk of a kid in the year below with yellow teeth and thin lips.

He rolls his eyes. He's heard it all before. But it doesn't stop the twist in his belly.

But he
is
surprised to see the broad shadow of Jonty hover in the corner of his eyeline and then, for some unexplained reason, make steps in the other direction. Ben thinks he looks like he's escaping. Running off.

‘Watch your backs boys,' one of the bright sparks nearer the door shouts as Ben pushes it open. ‘Gay-Boy Ben is entering the building.'

With the taste of bile at the back of his throat and a scowl which he discovers in the mirror, Ben takes his piss. Twats like these can ruin your day. And if he's not careful, that is exactly what they'll do. So, with a sniff which stings his nostrils because there's a bucket of disinfectant in the corner of the room, he aims to brazen it out.

Taking a breath and shoving open the door he grins at Yellow Teeth. ‘No one in there I fancied mate. He looks Yellow Teeth up and down and adds, ‘And no one out here either.'

The jeers of laughter make Yellow Teeth blush a plum colour. His sneer slides off his face and Ben watches anger light up his eyes

He walks through the wall of laughter, grinning as he goes. He hates everything about these boys, but won't for the life of him let it show.

But Yellow Teeth isn't happy. He has too much at stake. He follows Ben through the gap, anger packing his upper arms, and shoves Ben in the back.

Ben stumbles, the jab taking him by surprise. His bag slides off his shoulder and a grunt is forced from his throat. He doesn't fall to the floor but one of his knees lowers to within centimetres of it.

He's surprised.

Yellow Teeth at last has some sort of lead. He bellows so that the words echo around the corridor. ‘Fucking queer.'

And with a boot worthy of any Premiership football player, he kicks at Ben's bag so that it slides from one end of the corridor to the other.

It slides to a halt against some feet in Nikes belonging to Josh Strong. He's standing against the door to the Art room, a half-eaten sandwich in his hand. Josh looks from the bag on the floor up to Ben's face.

Ben flushes wildly, his heart lurches and his breath stings the back of his throat.

This wasn't how our next meeting was meant to be
.

Two days later, at the end of school, he sees Josh walking out of Science. There are three girls between them. Josh is alone, his head down, looking at his phone. Ben glimpses the white of the back of his neck. Feels the familiar pull at the bottom of
his stomach. He thinks about skirting round the girls, matching Josh stride for stride. Maybe making him laugh.

He starts to visualize it. Holds his breath. His heart begins to hammer at the thought.

Speeds up his steps.

But then, as a bus pulls in and the girls lift their eyes, they say some words which turn Josh's head. He grins at them. One of them grabs at Josh's blazer.

Josh dips his head towards her and she follows him up the steps of the bus. Ben watches from the pavement, his steps now slow again. He sees through the darkened window, as they find a seat near the front. How the girl slides an earphone into Josh's ear. How their heads bow together as they share some music. How their knees are up against the seats in front. Their ankles jiggling together to the music.

Ben knows he's not been noticed, standing there on the pavement.

Ridiculous. Why would he even like me anyhow?

Nicola texts when he's just finishing work at seven. It's a weird text, one which scratches at his throat. Unusual; has him slightly baffled.

Ben

You OK Babe? x he replies.

Yeah. Don't spose you're free tonight? x

He unties his apron. Knows it needs a wash. He'll think about taking it home next week. Janey's a bit of a stickler for clean aprons. He hangs it on the peg. Thumbs his response.

As it happens, that party I was going to … it's been cancelled x

Quickly, like she's been holding on to the phone, there's a reply.

Fancy coming round? Mum's out. x

Shrugs on his jacket. It's denim and cost a small fortune, even though it's vintage. Worry nags behind his eyebrows.

Sure. You OK? x

Three seconds where he imagines her fingers flashing over her phone.

I'm fine. All good. Only I wanted a word. x

Narrows his eyes, pushes open the door. He yells over his shoulder. ‘See you next week, Janey.'

He hears the muffled reply from where she's mopping the floor. ‘Don't do anything I wouldn't.' Shakes his head. She's a laugh is Janey.

He steps out into the evening, feels the weight of his phone in his hand. He senses importance in its heaviness.

Be there in twenty. Pour us a drink. I'm gagging. x

Feels funny. Nicola rarely does this. Springing suggestions like this. Since Eliza's been born everything's been planned weeks in advance. She's moaned about how spontaneity is a thing of the past. It's unnerving. Gets his mind thinking spirals.

The walk's a fast one, through the copse under trees which whisper at him. Over the bridge, his creepers thumping on the planks. Into the park with straggling kids shouting for the ball. Past Josh's house. All quiet and dark. No sign of Josh to
speed up his heart. Past the supermarket with a gang of lads jeering and laughing. Thinks he sees Jonty. Ducks his head. Doesn't want a conversation. Not tonight. Paces into Nicola's cul-de-sac. Decides to slow his steps. There's no need for a breathless entrance.

Calm down
.

Stops for a fag. Needs one. Under the lamp post, sucking up the nicotine. Can't get the weirdness from under his skin.

She probably just wants some company. It must be lonely on a Saturday night with a baby on your own. With the thought of everyone else getting ready to go out.

Stubs at his cigarette with the toe of his shoe. Breathes in under the jabber of birds and heads for her house.

She's at the door before he can put his finger on the bell. She must have been looking out for him. The house smells of oven chips and sausages. A welcome which reminds him how hungry he is. She holds the door wide. She manages a smile, which doesn't quite meet her eyes.

‘You OK?'

She nods, but he notices the twist in her hands. She points into the lounge where Eliza's on a blanket on the floor. ‘You go in. I'll get that drink.'

He perches on the end of the sofa. Unpeels his jacket. Puts it to one side. Eliza's gurgling with soft pink cheeks. He smiles at her, reaches out for her fingers. They curl over his like a tiny silk sea creature. It calms him down. He grins at her. ‘Lady, I reckon it's way past your bedtime.'

She smiles at him and he thinks she looks cute in her small,
warm pyjamas, a fragrance of bath time and shampoo comes off her.

He looks around him at the tiny lounge. Not enough room to swing a cat, let alone three females. No wonder Nicola gets frustrated sometimes.

Spots a scented candle lit on the mantelpiece. His heart ramps up a beat.
What's going on?

Nicola comes back, a bottle of milk in one hand, what looks like cider in the other. He sees the fizz of bubbles surge to the surface. Nicola's mouth looks tight. There's a smile thrown over the back of the sofa to him, but it still doesn't touch her eyes.

There's a throb at the back of his throat.

She nods to Eliza on the floor. ‘I was keeping her up. I thought you might want to see her.'

‘Always – she's completely perfect.' He sees a flash of something in her eyes.