The Truth About Celia Frost (19 page)

He gasped, his whole body jumping as though she’d given him an electric shock. Celia shook with the effort of holding in laughter. Sol grabbed the pillow and turned it on her, getting in
two swift, clean, body shots, which nearly toppled her off the bed.

It was Celia who heard the noise first.

“Quiet!” she hissed. “What’s that?” It sounded like a herd of elephants coming up the stairs.

“Oh my God!” Sol froze mid-swipe. “It’s my brothers.”

Celia hit the light switch, hugging herself in an attempt to control the rising laughter.

“Can you hear something?” Abs said to Yacob as they reached the landing.

“Yeah, it’s coming from Sol’s room. Bit late for him, isn’t it?”

“Hey,” Abs whispered. “I think he’s crying.”

They put their respective ears to the bedroom door and heard the distinct sound of sobbing. They looked at each other, concerned.

Abs nudged his brother. “Go in there and see what’s up.”

“No, you go in. It could be something embarrassing.”

“We’ll both go in then.”

Abs tapped on the door.

“Sol,” he said gently, “are you all right? Can we come in?”

Sol and Celia were on the verge of hyperventilating, producing periodic gasps as they tried to stifle their laughter. Sol scrambled up the ladder. “Hide,” he mouthed to Celia.

Celia dived under the duvet, her cloud of orange hair poking out.

“Don’t come in,” Sol said through gritted teeth. “I’m fine.” He pulled Celia by the ankles so that her hair disappeared from view. He jumped in the opposite
end and smoothed the duvet over the suspicious mound.

“You don’t sound like you’re fine,” Yacob said, opening the door a fraction, light from the landing penetrating the room. The brothers’ faces appeared around the
door. Sol popped his head up, desperate to stop them coming in.

“What’s the matter with you two?” he said groggily. “Why have you woken me up?”

“We thought you were crying,” Abs said, puzzled.

“Crying? I’ve been asleep.”

“Listen, buddy, there’s no shame in having a little cry every now and then. If something’s bothering you, you can tell us.” Abs started to edge further into the room.

Sol could see the duvet moving with Celia’s quivering. He put his hand out like a policeman stopping traffic. “Honestly, I’m fine. I must have been having a nightmare,
that’s all. You two get to bed – you need your beauty sleep.”

“Okay, but you know, Sol, any problems, anyone giving you a hard time, and me and Yac will sort them out.”

“Yeah, yeah. I know. Thanks, guys,” he said, watching his brothers’ heads disappear and the door shut once more.

Celia threw the duvet off, gasping. “Oh my God! I thought I was going to die of laughter under there. They are so sweet, aren’t they?”

“They have their moments. Listen, I’m going back on the floor,” Sol whispered.

“Don’t be stupid. We’re both up here now, so let’s just stay like this; heads and tails. I promise to keep my hands off you.”

“Okay,” Sol’s voice squeaked.

Ten excruciating minutes passed as they lay there in the dark, listening to each other’s breathing, terrified to move a muscle in case they touched, acutely aware that there was only a
layer of body heat between them.

Sol couldn’t stand it any more. He sat bolt upright in the bed. “Actually, Celia,” he whispered, “I think I will sleep on the floor after all.”

“Okay then.” She nodded with relief. “If you’re sure.”

Celia couldn’t resist the lure of the Giran household. She’d planned to go straight home from the flooded quarry this evening, but when they reached Sol’s
house, Mrs. Giran had invited her to come in. Two hours later she was still there, watching TV with Sol and devouring delicious home-made biscuits.

“Your mum’s the best!” Celia sighed, sipping her sweet, treacly, Ethiopian coffee.

“Yeah, well, for some strange reason she thinks you’re great, but she might change her mind if she knew you spent Wednesday night in my bedroom,” he whispered, wagging his
finger at her.

“Shut up!” Celia blushed.

“You should phone
your
mum, you know. She keeps ringing. You should answer her.”

“Why should I? I’ve already phoned her once today. She’s got to stop stalking me. I tell you what, though,” Celia said excitedly, “something’s going on. I
think she may have found herself a man.”

“Are you sure?”

“Well no, but for the last few days she’s been getting these phone calls. Every time it rings she dives into her bedroom to answer it. Next minute I hear her giggling like a
schoolgirl, and when she comes out she’s all pink, with a stupid smile on her face.”

“Well, haven’t you asked her?”

“Of course I have. She just said why should she tell me, when I won’t tell her anything?”

“Suppose that’s fair enough.”

“Anyway, I’d love it if it
was
a boyfriend. That’s what she needs; someone else in her life. Maybe then she’d stop obsessing about me.”

Mrs. Giran appeared in the room carrying a fresh supply of coffee and biscuits, just as Celia’s phone rang again. Celia tried to ignore it.

“Aren’t you going to answer your phone, Celia?” Mrs. Giran asked.

She picked it up reluctantly. “Hi, Mum... The chicken’s burned? What are you talking about? What chicken? ...Oh, did you? I mustn’t have heard my phone... Okay.
I’m coming home now anyway... Just around... Out and about... Listen, don’t worry, I’ll see you in a minute.”

“That was your mother?” Mrs. Giran asked.

“Yeah – she wants me home.”

“Well, maybe next visit you’ll bring her with you. I’d love to meet her. It’s hard for us women bringing up our children alone. I want to tell her what a wonderful job
she’s done with you.”

Celia flashed an angelic smile and then turned to Sol, pulling a cartoon face of horror. The thought of Sol’s mum meeting Janice sent shivers down her spine. The shame of Mrs. Giran
meeting her deranged mother – no way was that going to happen.

“You know that you’re always welcome here, Celia. There’s a lot of
bad
things out there and it makes me happy that my boy has a nice friend like you to keep him away
from trouble.” Mrs. Giran beamed, as she ruffled Sol’s hair.

“Mum, get off!” Sol said, squirming.

“Walk Celia home, Sol, but make sure you come straight back. Goodnight, darling girl.” Mrs. Giran threw her arms around Celia, pressing her into soft, ample flesh.

Celia was overwhelmed by the embrace and hugged her back. She realized that things were far from perfect in this family. On top of living with the agony of trying to find her husband, Mrs. Giran
had two wayward sons to contend with and a third who, though she was blissfully unaware of it, had been bunking off school. However, despite all these stresses, there was no hint of the suffocating
tension that Janice created in their own home. Sol didn’t have to endure any wild-eyed interrogation every time he walked in the door. He didn’t have to cope with a mad, out-of-control
mother.

Is this what it’s like to have a normal mum? Is this what I’ve missed out on all my life?
Celia was suddenly in danger of crying. She quickly released Mrs. Giran, letting go
of the comfort and safety that enveloped her in this woman’s arms.

“You okay?” Sol asked, puzzled.

“I’m fine. Let’s go,” Celia blustered, hiding her face.

They headed towards the dark towers. The evening air was still warm from the day’s sun. A perfect full moon sat so clear in the sky that it looked possible to reach up and grab it.

“I’m starving. Do you fancy going to the chippy?” Sol said.

Celia was incredulous. “Don’t you ever stop eating?”

“I’m a growing boy.” He shrugged. “Come on, I’ll race you. Last one there buys!” Sol started running before he’d finished his sentence, leaving Celia
standing, but her long-legged strides soon closed the gap. They weaved in and out of the blocks of houses, skidding around corners, yelling through the echoing passageways, swerving past the
burned-out wheelie bins that were strewn around like some modern art installation. They didn’t take any notice as they ran past the figure, who looked up on seeing them, then quickly reached
for his mobile.

A minute later they became aware of someone sprinting up behind them. A voice shouted, “Hey, you two! Stop, please stop. I need your help!”

Celia and Sol slowed down and cautiously looked behind. The youth was panting, beckoning them towards him. Sol and Celia maintained their distance.

“What’s up?” Sol called to him.

“It’s my mate,” the boy spluttered. “He’s been beaten up, he’s hurt bad. Please...help me. I’m on my own with him. I don’t want to leave
him.”

“Have you called an ambulance?” Celia asked.

“Yeah. They said they’d be ten minutes. I don’t want to be on my own with him for ten minutes. Please...I don’t know what to do.”

Celia and Sol looked at each other. The boy’s panic was palpable. They couldn’t walk away.

“Okay. Where is he?” Sol asked.

“Thanks, mate! Thanks! It’s this way.” The hooded boy ran ahead of them, leading them to the entrance of a long, dingy alleyway.

“It’s a dead end.” Celia’s anxiety was growing.

“Yeah, I know. He’s down the bottom. Come on! He was bleeding bad,” the twitchy teenager said, corralling them down the unlit alley.

They reached the end of the alleyway, but all that could be seen were piles of black bags full of stinking rubbish, which had been dumped among other debris.

“What’s going on? There’s no one here,” Celia said tensely.

“God! I don’t know, honest,” their guide said innocently. “He was here. He must have crawled away or something.”

“This doesn’t feel right, Celia. Let’s get out of here. Now!” Sol took her hand, but as they turned to go, they saw figures enter the alleyway.

“I don’t believe it!” the boy announced in mock-shock. “Here he is now. Praise be to God – it’s a miracle!”

Sol immediately looked around for an escape route but high walls surrounded them on three sides; the only way out was to go past the approaching rabble.

“Don’t worry. Just play it cool. They’ll let us pass,” Sol said nervously.

But Celia could see the huge, mangy Rottweiler approaching, its owner tugging on its chain. “They won’t,” she whispered with dread. “They’re here for me.”

The group now stood in a line in front of them, barring any exit.

“What you doing down an alley in the dark? You and her up to dirty things?” Razor said sleazily. “You don’t look capable of it.”

The gang of shadow-faced followers cackled and jeered, lager spilling from their clutched cans. The dog started to get agitated, picking up on the growing tension in the air.

“Look,” Sol said, trying to sound relaxed. “We don’t want any trouble. Just let us pass.” He stepped forward but the gang responded by moving in.

“You ain’t going nowhere,” said the leader. “We have business with your girlfriend. She’s caused me a lot of bother. The pigs have been hassling me, taking up my
valuable time. But they ain’t got nothing on me. It’s police harassment, that’s what I told them.”

“You should sue ’em, Razor,” laughed one of the gang.

“Look at you,” Razor sneered at Sol. “You ain’t even got the balls to be part of a crew, have you?”

“I just mind my own business,” Sol replied.

Razor gave a look of disdain before jerking his head and spitting in Sol’s face.

“Stop it!” shouted Celia, her face screwed up in anger. “Leave him alone.”

“You’re right,” Razor said shrugging. “It’s not him we’ve come for, it’s you.”

Sol moved in front of Celia, trying to shield her, even though she stood head and shoulders above him.

“Hold him,” Razor ordered his rabble. They pounced on Sol, pulling him away from Celia and pinning him to the ground.

Razor dragged the dog towards Celia as she backed against the wall. “Rocky hasn’t eaten for a few days. I like to keep him hungry, it keeps him nice and mean.”

The dog looked disinterested, his anvil head bowed, his black eyes dead. Razor delivered a sharp kick to the animal’s belly. Rocky let out a sickening yelp.

“Come on, boy, have a good sniff. You lookin’ at your dinner, but maybe you need the smell of blood to get your juices flowing,” he said darkly.

Celia flashed a look of terror at Sol, who stared up helplessly from the ground.

“What you going to do with her?” asked Shane.

Razor handed him the dog’s chain before grabbing hold of Celia’s mop of hair and turning her to face the wall. He kicked her behind the knees and her legs immediately buckled. As she
crumpled he took hold of her and pushed her body against the wall, scraping it down the rough bricks like cheese down a grater. Celia felt the heat of the friction. She fell in a heap on the
ground. Her flayed skin smarted as blood sprang from her bare knees and elbows.

“Now Rocky might think you’re a bit more tasty. He likes raw meat,” Razor hissed. “Hey, Shane! I hope you’re getting all this.”

The scrawny lad fumbled around in his pockets for his mobile. “Yeah, no problem, Razor,” he sniffed.

“See that bitch over there,” Razor said, strutting for the video, “she’s about to become dog meat.”