The Panopticon (15 page)

‘Nothing, why?’

‘You couldnae do me a huge favour, seeing as things are, like, alright with us now?’

‘What?’

‘I’ve got a date, tae piss John off, not that he’s fucking here tae see it now, likesae, but it’s a doubler – you wouldnae?’

‘No.’

‘Please?’

‘I’d rather chew my own arm off, Shortie. I’m not in a dating mood.’

‘Dinnae be like that, they’re just a laugh, they always have good gear!’ she says.

‘Who are they like?’

‘They’re nice, really nice, we’ll pick you up at the gate later. I’m going tae meet them the now. I just thought – you know, we could hang out.’

‘Alright.’

‘Really?’ she asks.

‘Aye, I’ll see you out there at six.’

Slam my music on – loud as it will go – and find the last of my glittery body lotion, rub it into my arms and legs and neck. Spray perfume over my head and walk through it. I hate these social-work towels; they are so tiny.

I’m still listening to music on Jay’s old iPod cos my dock’s totally battered – need to get a new one. Skip through tracks until I get to ‘Jesus Don’t Want Me for a Sunbeam’, on Nirvana’s unplugged sessions. I love this album. After this I’ll play some no-wave. Or Joy Division, ‘Love Will Tear Us Apart’. Teresa used to say I was old-school. She said the best movie stars and burlesque dancers, and musicians, dealers, artists and hookers, were all totally old-school. I wish I was a drummer in a really good band.

I’ve left my brush in the bathroom, pad out of my room and stop. The twins are standing at the end of the hall, holding hands. They’re totally identical, curly blonde hair, blue eyes, and they look just like Isla. I love their matching dungarees, and they’ve both got cute wee welly-boots on; hers have ladybird eyes and his have frogs.

‘Hello,’ I say.

They scuff their feet and stare at me; they have beautiful wee fat arms and dimpled fingers. Isla comes out of her room with her social worker.

‘Mammie!’ The boy reaches his arms up.

Isla picks him up and hugs him so, so tightly. The girl wraps her arms around Isla’s leg.

‘I have something for you both, maybe, if that’s okay with Mummy?’ I ask Isla and she nods.

Leg it back to my room and haul a long T-shirt on for
now. I only own two lucky things. One is luckier than the other – I come back out with my arms behind my back.

‘Pick an arm,’ I say.

The wee girl looks a bit curious and freaked-out.

‘It’s okay, Bethany, go on,’ Isla says.

She picks my left arm.

‘Good choice,’ I say and I pull out the feathered headdress, and she grabs hold of it shyly.

‘What do you say?’ Isla asks her.

‘Thank you.’

‘So this must be for you!’ I say to the wee boy, as I whip my black fairy wings out and waggle them like a big beard under my chin. He giggles, snatches them straight away and runs off down the hall making aeroplane noises.

‘Thanks, Anais.’

‘’S alright. Are you taking them to the soft play centre?’

Isla nods and squeezes my arm. Her social worker’s away downstairs, waving at her to come down.

‘See you later then,’ I say.

Close my door to its designated four-inch gap. A lump rises in my throat again. I ache. Don’t think about it. Just go out and get wrecked.

Laid out on my bed are a pair of navy-blue shorts, short-shorts, with six buttons at the front and a high waist. I’ll need to put tights on under them, cos my legs are so white they’re almost blue. It isnae a good look for shorts. Haul on my favourite knickers, matching bra and my oldest band T-shirt – it’s totally faded, and it has wee holes in it, but I love it. Slip on four bracelets, pin my hair up at the back until it looks more Sixties. Rub serum between my fingers and smooth it over until my hair is shiny, shiny.

So.

Paris it is.

Paris – offensively rich parents, three eccentric and exceptionally beautiful aunts, a garden with a swing and a sundial. Jasmine flowers. Lilies. A big bedroom with a huge window overlooking the garden. Stuff. Piles of it. All new. All expensive. None from the chore.

Dab foundation on quickly, but not too much. I suit my pale skin mostly, it’s just my legs that look see-through in winter, so it’s better to hide them. Try my new pink blusher, carefully pencil on cat’s eyes with black kohl, finish up with two layers of mascara. I outline my lips with red liner, fill them in, then blot them by kissing the back of my hand. They look like perfect wee cupid’s bows – red always make the amber flecks in my eyes pop out.

I glance at where my wings were. Professor True gave me those wings. He bought them in London. Professor True was quite funny really. He loved Teresa and you want someone to love your mum – even if he is a client. It made her happy. He was always bringing her cashmere jumpers, and books, and perfume, and wee things for me. He got the wonky-cock disease eventually. Teresa said it was alright, cos mostly he just liked it up the arse anyway. Gross, or what!

Check myself out – I look like I didnae try, but still hot. Red-red lips, and my eyes are a wee bit green today; ’s funny how that happens. You always have tae make sure your outfit is immaculately clean, and ironed when you go out, ay. I’d never walk out the door with something shan on. I’d rather die.

My clothes smell nice – every inch is pristine. I shove
my sneakers on and head downstairs. Shortie’s probably waiting at the gate already.

‘Hey, Angus.’

‘Anais, are you in for the evening?’

‘Am I under house-arrest?’

‘Of course you’re not under house-arrest, young lady – that’s a bit of a dramatic way tae describe things.’

‘Then I’m going out.’

‘Aye, so you’ll be wanting your Friday outing money?’ he asks.

‘Aye.’

Angus rummages around and pulls out the petty-cash box.

‘Oh, there’s an envelope for you as well.’ He slides it over.

I open it up. It’s the results from the lab woman.

‘They’ve only got half my results here?’

‘You’ll get the rest soon.’

‘Do they not know what the blood is from?’

Angus shakes his head.

‘They want you back down at the station again for questioning. The policewoman’s condition is deteriorating.’

My heart misses a beat.

‘How can you deteriorate when you’re already in a coma?’

‘I’m not sure, they didnae say, Anais. You just need tae really watch yourself right now because if the polis can get you locked up, believe me, they are gonnae.’

‘Is she gonnae die?’

‘We better hope not, and we better hope we can prove you had nothing tae do with it just as soon as possible. We’ll find a way, okay?’

‘Do the polis want tae speak to me tonight?’

‘Not yet, don’t worry, go and have some fun. So, twenty pounds outing money, young lady, sign here for that, please. Where are you going?’

‘I’m going tae the pictures.’

‘Sounds good. What film are you going tae see?’

‘That new one.’

‘The one about the kangaroo?’

Angus scrawls something down on a file.

‘Noh, I’m going to see the one with the girl and the guy,’ I lie.

‘The one with the girl and the guy, I thought it might be that one.’ Angus smiles at me, he looks stoned. ‘Well, just you make sure the guy doesnae step out of line, or I’ll have tae come downtown and knock him out!’

‘Funny.’

‘I’m not being funny, Anais, I am being deadly serious. You have tae have someone tae watch your back, and despite what the police are saying about you being a big bad lassie, I think you’ve nae bad in you at all.’

I feel – shocked. I have never had a member of staff say something like that to me before, and he is just counting my outing money and places it on the table. I sit and look at the religious icons on the office wall.

‘You know, you’re not the only teenager who has ever been entirely alone in the world,’ he says.

‘How? Did you come from care, like?’

‘No, Anais, I came from worse than that – believe me. I’m just saying: dinnae think you’re totally alone, you’re not, alright?’

He hands me the money.

‘Cheers, Angus.’

‘Back by 11 p.m., you have court tomorrow!’ he shouts as the door slams shut.

The twins are running down the hallway – chased by Tash. She’s wearing a bucket on her head and making zombie arms at them. Bethany races by doing a whoop, whoop, whoop, and scalping anyone who comes near her with a ruler.

I slip out the front door before anyone notices. It’s cold outside but it doesnae matter. My legs look skinny in dark tights. This T-shirt is the best, it’s my mostest favourite one ever, The Velvet Underground playing in the Factory. It was a present from Pat. She said she shagged their guitarist, or their bass player, or somebody. I wonder how she’s getting on with her penis-art? Teresa and Pat were best friends for nearly thirty years. How mad is that? I cannae imagine even knowing someone for thirty years, I probably never will. I really need to go and see Pat soon, I cannae keep avoiding it.

Two blackbirds fly past. Fields of grass sway in the breeze and it sounds like waves. I walk fast and scan the fields, and the edges of the forest, but I cannae see John anywhere. He must be freaking out, and he’ll be freezing. This isnae a good time of year to sleep rough.

That was funny Angus saying that, like someone was bothered, like someone would stick up for you. I almost like him – for staff, he isnae that bad.

Get to the gate and the gargoyle is sitting with his back to me, his ears are pointy. I look out and there is no car, not yet, just an empty road. I’ve not even got Shortie’s number to text her and see where she is.

Lean against the gate and light a fag. A bird swoops down low, glides across the fields, it cries out – long and low – and it’s eerie. Look again, not one single car, not yet.

I scuff my feet off the wall and watch the bird soar towards the woods. The Panopticon is creepy from up here, the top bit of the watchtower is a sharp peak in the middle of the building, and below that, inside there’s the surveillance window, and although the experiment like to hang out there, they dinnae need a watchtower cos they can see anywhere, that’s the truth.

14

A LOW HEAVY
bass hums along the road. Fuck, is that Shortie in that motor? It’s an old Seventies car, what a fucking death-trap, it is totally pish. She’s sat up the front with some guy, the other one’s in the back.

‘Get in then.’ She grins.

‘I’m not sitting in the back with him! No offence,’ I say tae the guy.

‘Totally sound, get in the front,’ she says to him and she climbs over the front seat. I jump in the back beside her.

The guy that’s driving passes me back a joint, and the car pulls away, speeding right up to eighty, flying past Joan who’s trundling up in her old VW. We give her a wave. The guy who’s driving is hot, he has the nicest hands I’ve ever seen on a guy. His fingers are kind of square and long. His hands are twice as big as mine. I love it when a guy is tall like that – it makes me feel petite; I am petite, but it makes me feel more so.

‘Anais, that’s Ben, and that’s Craig.’ She nods at the driver.

Shortie flings her arms around the seat in front of her, touching the Ben guy’s hair. He kisses her hand.

‘Alright,’ he says.

‘Alright,’ the Craig guy says.

He’s cute, his wrists are slim – not thin, just perfect. Double-drag on the joint and watch him drive. His hands are like a sculptor’s, not a pianist’s, more like an artist or an artisan.

‘So, where are we going?’ I ask, passing the joint to Shortie.

‘Dunno,’ she shrugs.

‘Where are we going?’ I ask Craig.

‘Poaching,’ he says, turning the tunes up.

‘What?’

‘Poaching!’

‘Poaching fucking what?’ I ask Shortie.

‘Salmon probably. We’ve done it before, ay, it’s a laugh, Anais – you’re gonnae love it.’

‘D’ye no like poaching?’ Ben asks me.

‘I dinnae murder fish for fun, no,’ I say.

‘Anais put a cop in a coma,’ Shortie says.

The two guys look back now, the Ben one’s grinning.

‘So, you’ll put a cop in a coma, but you’ll no kill a fish?’

‘I didnae put a cop in a coma.’

‘She did, she battered her with a kosh – all the kids ken about it in all the units. And she burnt down the last place she was in. She’s been charged one hundred and forty-seven times,’ Shortie says proudly.

‘Have you read my files?’ I ask her.

‘Noh, just eavesdropping on meetings at the office. They’re always talking about you, especially Eric, and Angus, and Joan. Mullet does as well, but he’s not so fascinated. He just fucking hates you.’

‘What does Angus say, like?’

‘He’s always sticking up for you,’ she says.

We drive through some red lights, then turn down a hill heading out to the river. There’s a castle in the distance. Some lights are on in the windows. Imagine living in a castle. I cannae believe we are going poaching. I might have tae stage a humanist intervention. Fuck! I am so stoned already.

‘I hear you and Shortie had a fight?’ Ben asks, grinning.

‘Aye.’

‘I hear Shortie let you off lightly?’ he says, grinning even wider.

She looks away a wee bit sheepish, like.

‘Aye, something like that,’ I say and Shortie starts giggling, and I do too. Craig keeps glancing at me in the rear-view mirror. I’m glad I came out now.

‘So what do youz do then, now everyone knows I’m a fucking degenerate and Shortie’s hard as fuck?’

I pass her the skins, and she pulls out a wee rolling mat.

‘They’re farmers,’ she says.

‘For fuck’s sake,’ I say.

‘What’s wrong with that?’ Ben asks.

‘I’ve never been on a date with a farmer, that’s all,’ I say, trying no tae laugh, but Shortie’s laughing, her shoulders are shaking away.

‘What kind of farmers are you then?’ I ask them. ‘Are you sheep-shaggers?’

Shortie cannae roll her joint now for laughing, and the Craig guy’s smiling away.

‘You’re a wide one, ay,’ he says tae me.

‘We’re pig farmers,’ Ben says, all serious. ‘I dinnae fucking see how it’s a laughing matter!’