The Bombs That Brought Us Together (18 page)

‘Oh, right. Yes. I remember.’ She didn’t. ‘Shame The Bookshop’s gone now, eh?’

‘Total shame,’ I said. ‘Anyway, there isn’t a library in this building either.’

She had her what-do-you-want-then face on.

‘I didn’t see you in English,’ I said.

‘That’s because I wasn’t in English.’

‘Were you late?’

‘I had to see someone about something, Charlie.’

I took this to mean,
It’s none of your effing business where I was, Law, so don’t ask again.

‘How was the rest of your summer?’ I asked.

Erin F took a big deep breath.

‘Oh, you know, dodging bombs, hiding from Old Country patrols, trying to eat properly, trying to get life back to normal, trying to keep Mum alive – what can I say? My summer? Couldn’t have been better.’

Was this a joke?

Was I supposed to laugh?

I laughed.

Erin F glared.

‘Charlie, those Old Country bastards have destroyed our town, our school and our spirit, don’t you see that?’

‘I do see it, Erin F, but I think you have to remain positive.’

‘Remain positive, that’s all I hear these days. Remain positive about what?’

‘Well, education for starters; it’s one way to get out of here.’

‘That’s if they let you.’

‘Of course they’ll let us. We can go anytime, can’t we?’

‘But go where? Some other shit, dangerous place? That’s exactly what they want, isn’t it? Divide and conquer. It’s a classic manoeuvre, Charlie. Classic manoeuvre.’

Erin F was a top-notch history student. Another tick in the box of her modes of attraction.

‘So what can we do about it?’ I asked.

‘Protest? Demonstrate? March? I don’t know. I don’t have
the answers, do I? I’m just a teenage girl with no influence, no opinions and therefore no voice.’ I could see the wheels going around in her head. ‘Maybe I should just strap a bomb to my waist and twaddle off into the moonlight.’

This chat was turning serious. It slowed my heart rate down, which was a bit of a relief.

‘What? You don’t mean, like, a real bomb?’

‘Of course I mean a real bomb.’

‘And do what?’

‘Easy. Just saunter to one of their checkpoints or patrols and press the boom button.’

On the word
boom
she exploded one of her hands in front of my face, widening her stunning eyes.

‘But then you’d be …’ I began to say, before it dawned on me. ‘You mean, like a suicide bomber?’

‘Exactly. It happens to us all one day.’

‘But where would you find the bomb to do that?’ I asked. It was a vital question because I didn’t have a clue where someone would go to find a bomb if they wanted to blow themselves up. I wouldn’t know where to start. Maybe The Big Man could sort me out if I asked him.

‘Minor problems, Charlie. They can always be sorted out later in the day.’

Now I really wasn’t sure if this was a shared joke moment, an extract the urine out of Charlie day or a cheeky yarn.

I neither laughed nor sniggered.

I didn’t even grin.

Erin F laughed.

Oh, now I got it!

Erin F looked at me, serious again. ‘Do you know what the real problem is, Charlie?’

‘No, what?’

‘That nobody gives a toss. Everyone in Little Town is happy to just sit back and let all this happen.’

‘Not true,’ I said, thinking of my mum and dad, then The Big Man’s guns flashing through my mind. ‘There
are
some people raging about this, Erin F.’

‘Who? You?’

‘And Pav.’

‘Your buddy, he’s one of them, is he not?’

‘He hates Old Country more than me and you. This is the second time he’s been persecuted by them, you know.’

But Erin F had steam coming out of her lugs. This wasn’t the Erin F I knew; this was an Erin F with fire in her belly and too much wagging in her fingers.

‘I doubt anyone hates them more than me at the moment, Charlie,’ she said.

I wanted to ask about her mum’s health but didn’t wish to send her into a tailspin of fury. ‘Does that mean you don’t want to meet Pav?’

‘I didn’t say that.’

‘I sent you a message to see if you wanted to come see our
shed,’ I said. Erin F stroked her dazzling locks. ‘You never replied. I mean, I know the network was down so maybe your phone wasn’t working.’ She crossed her feet. ‘Maybe I took your number down wrongly.’

‘You didn’t.’

‘I didn’t?’

‘No, my phone got taken off me, Charlie.’

‘By your dad?’

The moment I said it I knew that it was a twelve-year-old’s question.

‘No, not by my dad.’

‘Who, then?’

‘Some woman from Old Country patrol searched me.’

‘A woman?’

‘Slimy hands all over me like I was packing twenty kilos of Class A.’

My mind whizzed with the phrase
hands all over me
. I could see it happening; in fact I couldn’t stop seeing it happen.

‘That’s totally terrible,’ I said.

‘I know. Can you imagine having to do a grubby job like that?’

ABSOLUTELY!

‘No way could I imagine that,’ I said.

‘And from a woman too. God, it’s so disgusting and degrading to women all over. A crime against sisterhood.’

This was the best piece of news I’d heard all day. Erin F hadn’t rejected me; she hadn’t really thought that I was stalking her like a crazy mad fool; she hadn’t decided that I wasn’t to be the one and only guy for her. I was delighted, but I couldn’t show it on my face. The pain of keeping a smile in went all the way down to my toes.

‘It’s scandalous, Erin F. Scandalous.’

Then I smiled, which turned into a massive chuckle.

‘Not funny, Charlie.’

‘I know, but I’m just thinking that some Old Country woman has been getting all these texts inviting her to see my shed. She could be there at my shed now for all I know,’ I said.

Erin F slapped me on the arm, before howling herself. A real touch on the arm. Human contact. Not-washing-for-a-month contact.

‘How many texts did you send?’ Erin F asked.

‘Eh?’

‘How many texts did you send?’

Big giant swear word entered my head. I didn’t expect this question.

‘Erm … three … maybe four … I don’t actually remember,’ I lied.

I couldn’t really tell her that the figure hit the two-digit mark; if I did she would have definitely thought that I was the king of the stalkers.

‘Oh, right,’ Erin F said, shifting the weight to her other foot. ‘Well, sorry I didn’t get them.’

‘That’s OK, your excuse is watertight,’ I said.

‘Yes, well …’

‘So do you want to see it then?’

‘What?’

‘Our shed. Do you want to see it?’

Erin F flicked her hair, a sure sign that she was all flattery and flirty. That’s what the so-called brain experts tell us anyway. I was rubbish at reading the signs – the good ones anyway.

‘Erm …’ she said, like she’d just been asked if she wanted another bout of root canal.

‘It’s a cracker! We’ve furniture and everything in it.’

Time to raise the sail and bail.

‘OK,’ she said.

‘OK?’ I said.

‘OK.’

‘OK, you’ll come?’

‘Yes, I’ll come and see this stupid shed of yours,’ Erin F said.

YA BEAUTY! Play it cool, son, play it cool.

I ran my fingers through my hair.

‘Really? When? When?’ Way too much enthusiasm and very uncool-like behaviour.

‘Whenever you like.’

Oh, the pressure. I’d have to go above Pav’s head and make an executive decision on this one.

‘What about one Saturday?’ I said.

‘Fine.’

‘You don’t have anything on?’

‘Not unless I drop dead or I decide to blow myself up.’

‘Erm … OK …’

‘I’m joking, Charlie. I’m doing nothing. There’s nothing to do here any more anyway,’ she said.

‘What about your mum?’

‘What about her?’

‘Will she be OK without you?’

‘I think she’ll be fine for a few hours.’

‘Is she … ?’

‘She’s the same, Charlie, but thanks for your concern.’

‘Next Saturday then?’ I said.

‘Not this Saturday?’

‘Me and Pav are having a bit of a do next Saturday,’ I said.

Erin F’s eyes slit up again.

Stop saying his name in front of her.

Stop NOT saying his name in front of her.

‘A do for what?’

‘It’s my birthday and Pav’s is a few days later.’

‘OK, next Saturday’s good,’ Erin F said.

‘Around two?’

‘Two’s good.’

‘You know where to go?’

‘I’ll find it, don’t worry.’

‘Great.’

‘So, let me get this right, Charlie.’ Erin F’s face was confused. ‘You’re having a party in … your … shed?’

‘It’s not a party.’

‘Who else is going?’

‘Just me and Pav.’

‘You’re having an exclusive party with only two people?’

‘Three, now that you’re coming. But it’s not really a party as such.’

‘You’re very weird, Charlie Law, do you know that?’

‘But you’re still coming?’ I said with puppy-dog eyes. ‘Next Saturday at two?’

‘I wouldn’t miss it for all the landmines in the world,’ she said.

‘Me neither, Erin F. Me neither.’

On the second day back Max Fargo marched towards me as I was waiting to go into my geography class.

‘Is it true, Law?’

Max Fargo wasn’t in any of my classes. I’d say he was probably the best in the school at wandering the corridors. Most teachers chucked him out after about ten minutes of having him in their lesson, quickly followed by his little lapdog, Bones. Let’s say that Max Fargo and Bones weren’t your typical pens-out-books-on-the-table-heads-up-teach-me-something students. If Old Country officials ever managed to get their claws into the school system, then clowns like Max and Bones would get their arses rattled big time.

‘Yeah, is it true, Law?’ Bones said.

‘Is what true?’ I said.

‘That your little girlfriend we met on the bus is from Old Country?’ Max said.

For a split second I thought he meant Erin F when he said
girlfriend
. If only!

‘Yeah, that Old Country girlfriend,’ Bones said.

Bones was a wonder of medical science! He never failed to impress.

‘I don’t know. Why don’t you ask him?’ I said.

‘We don’t need to ask him; we’ve been told,’ Max said.

‘Yeah, we’ve been told,’ Bones followed.

‘His mob is the reason why loads of our mates are still missing,’ Max said.

‘Yeah, loads of mates,’ Bones added.

I held in a sarcastic laugh. Most of the missing people that I knew would have crossed the road to escape these tossers. Mates? That must have been a joke.

‘Who told you?’ I asked, because only Mercy and Erin F knew where Pav was from, and surely neither would contemplate sharing the same air with these two tosspots. Any conversation was out of the question.

‘Wouldn’t you like to know who told us, Flaw, eh?’ Bones took to occasionally calling me Flaw; he thought that the entire school would soon catch on to this piece of comedy genius. No one else ever called me it.

‘Norman told us,’ Max said.

Bones looked offended.

‘What does Norman know about anything?’ I said.

Norman, bloody mega mouth.

‘Wouldn’t you like to know, Flaw,’ Bones said.

Max piped up.

‘He told us his name, where he was from and where he lives now. He told us loads of stuff.’

Bones looked dejected.

‘So what,’ I said.

‘So what?’ Bones said.

‘Yeah, big deal,’ I said.

‘Big deal?’ Bones said.

I’d lose the will to live if I had to hang with Bones all day.

‘Who cares? It’s no big deal where he’s from, Max,’ I said.

‘Oh, I think it’s a big deal,’ Max said.

‘Big deal.’ By this time nobody was listening to or looking at Bones.

‘And I don’t like Old Country people anyway,’ Max stated.

I hear they speak so highly of you though, Max.

‘Yeah … Old Country people.’

‘And neither should you like them, Law,’ Max said.

‘I don’t hate anybody,’ I said, which is a bit of a lie because I did hate the people who smithereened our town and school. But I didn’t hate just for the sake of hating. That’s nuts.

‘Well, we know that that little pussy’s Old Country,’ Max said.

‘Little pussy,’ Bones said, still floating around in his magical world.

‘So what if he is? What’s it got to do with me?’ I said.

‘He’s your mate, Law,’ Max said.

‘Yeah, your mate.’

‘That doesn’t make me from Old Country, does it?’ I said.

‘But hanging around with the enemy makes you the enemy too.’ Max stepped closer and put his finger on my chest. Jabbed me twice. I didn’t move my face muscles. Up until that point I was fine and dandy but now my knees trembled. I think Max had seen far too many violent war movies.

‘He’s the enemy,’ Bones said, taking a step closer as well.

‘Pav’s not the enemy,’ I said, taking a half step back.

Bones guffawed. Max sniggered and shook his head.

‘What sort of twat name is that?’ Max said.

‘Twat name.’

Max gave the eyes to Bones, who stepped back a tad.

‘That’s his name. I don’t see anything funny about it,’ I said.

I’m not sure, but I think I might have done a tiny inside snigger myself when I first heard the name Pav.

‘Well, you tell Lav or Pav or whatever the hell his stupid name is that he better watch his back,’ Max said. ‘Or else.’

‘Watch his back, or else.’

‘What has Pav ever done to you two, eh?’

Max wasn’t expecting this. Bones expects nothing from life. Max stared at me.

‘I’ll tell you what he’s done, Law.’

‘I’m listening,’ I said, puffing out my chest, feeling all high and mighty like I was some sort of top boy. But I wasn’t a top boy. I was only little Charlie Law who liked the simple things in life. Shedding, reading, eating and a bit of tomfoolery. Oh, and dreaming about cosy nights in/out with a certain young redhead. I unpuffed my chest and waited for Max’s answer.

‘He was born, that’s what he’s done,’ Max said. ‘He breathes my air, that’s what he’s done. Look around you: that’s what he and his mob have done.’