The One and Only Page 10

  I’d lost my key somewhere in Cornwall so I had to ring the doorbell. It was about six pm and raining. Despite dreading the fury I was sure Mum was about to unleash on me, I hoped she was in.

  I was cold and hungry.

  But Mum didn’t open the door. Trisha did, baby Sam in her arms.

  She did a double-take when she saw me. ‘Luke?’

  ‘Hi.’ I smiled. ‘Is Mum here?’

  Trisha frowned at me. ‘Of course. God, Luke, where’ve you been?’

  I walked past her, ignoring the question. I looked round. It felt weird being home. After a month away everything looked familiar and yet somehow really strange as well.

  ‘Luke.’ Trisha sounded cross.

  I spun round. Little Alice was running across the hall towards me. She hugged my leg. I bent down and picked her up. ‘Hey, Alice.’

  She grinned.

  ‘Luke.’ Trisha was staring at me, this hard look in her eyes. ‘I need to talk to you before you see your mum.’

  I shrugged and followed her into the living room. I sat in Dad’s old armchair, Alice on my lap. Trisha perched on the sofa opposite, jiggling Sam over her shoulder, her face all serious.

  ‘I can’t believe you strolling in here like nothing’s happened,’ she said. ‘I thought you were more . . . more grown up than that.’

  A knot of anger tightened in my chest. I set Alice down on the floor, then pushed myself up off the chair.

  I was going to get enough of a bollocking from Mum. I didn’t need this.

  ‘Listen to me,’ Trisha said, furiously. ‘Your mother’s in a terrible state. Today’s not a bad day – at least she got dressed. But she’s still upstairs right now, in her room.’

  ‘What?’ I sat back down in the chair, a flicker of worry filtering through my anger. ‘What’s the matter with her?’

  Trisha rolled her eyes. ‘She’s depressed, Luke. Real, serious depression. She wasn’t good anyway, before you went. But now . . .’

  ‘Because I went away?’ I frowned. ‘But I sent emails. I made sure she knew I was OK.’

  ‘For God’s sake,’ Trisha snapped. ‘She didn’t know where you were. You’re sixteen. Still at school. Or supposed to be. Anything could have been happening to you. And I heard your girlfriend’s father on the phone. He was terrifying. And the school called and social services . . . Chloe’d only just moved out too, remember.’

  I stared at her.

  ‘And then, as if all that wasn’t enough, Matt left her. Just walked out one evening saying it was over.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘Yeah. I came round about a week after you’d gone, to see how she was. I was worried because she hadn’t answered my calls. He’d left her the day before. Almost exactly one year to the day since your dad died.’

  Oh God. I hadn’t even thought about the date Dad died. I put my head in my hands. I knew how much that would have upset Mum. And I hadn’t been here. I hadn’t even called.

  Trisha appeared to be reading my mind.

  ‘That’s right, Luke,’ she said. ‘Your mum was all alone. When I came round she was like this half-dead person. She hadn’t eaten, hadn’t got up, hadn’t washed. She’d dragged herself out of bed to feed the baby. But . . .’ Trisha’s face crumpled. ‘I didn’t know what to do. I called out the doctor and he gave her some pills and they’re supposed to start working soon. I wanted her to come to mine but she wouldn’t. So I’ve been living here since.’ Her voice rose to a shout. ‘And it’s not fair. I’m a single mum and I’m eight-and-a-half months sodding pregnant!’

  ‘What about Chloe?’ I stammered.

  Trisha sighed as if she was too exhausted to keep on being angry. ‘She’s come round a few times, but to be honest I don’t think she helps. It’s not as if they even get on that well.’ She looked up at me. ‘It’s you she wants to see. You she’s been worried about.’

  I sat back in the armchair, guilt flooding through my veins like ice water.

  14

  Out of reach

  Trisha went up first to say I was back.

  I heard Mum call out my name and I ran up the stairs three at a time. She was sitting on her bed, her face haggard, her hair all lank and straggly, her clothes creased and crumpled.

  Tears leaked out of her eyes when she saw me. I hugged her, my insides turning over and over. I’d never seen her look like this.

  She stroked my hair, whispering my name.

  ‘I’m sorry, Mum.’ I was seriously close to crying as she buried her face in my shoulder. ‘I’m sorry.’

  She felt so fragile. So broken.

  I wanted her to forgive me. To say that everything was all OK now. To say that she was fine, now that I was back. But when she looked up at me, her eyes were dull . . . empty.

  ‘Mum?’

  She was looking at me, but it was like she wasn’t really seeing me. Like there was this barrier between us.

  I held her, reassuring her I was fine. I had expected her to be angry or, at least, to demand a hundred explanations from me about what I’d been doing.

  But she didn’t shout or ask me any questions. Not even about Eve.

  It was like she was Mum and yet not Mum, at the same time. It was creepy and sad and really, really scary.

  Trisha tried to explain it to me later. ‘It’s like she’s in this black box, and she can’t get out of it back into her life. The anti-depressants will help soon, though, I hope. And you being back is the most important thing, Luke. She doesn’t have anyone else.’

  My heart slid into my gut. I didn’t want this. My whole plan coming home had been to give Eve a few days, then get her to take me back. Back to Cornwall. Back to the guitar. Back to our life. Yes, and back to the sex I still hadn’t had.

  But how could I go back now?

  Dads. It all came down to them. If mine hadn’t died then Mum wouldn’t be in this state. And if Eve’s wasn’t a total whack job, she and I would have been together all autumn and Hayley could never have happened.

  Ryan came round on Sunday afternoon. We’d texted each other a few times when Eve and I were in Cornwall – I’d borrowed George’s phone – but it was kind of weird seeing him again

  He asked for a beer as soon as he arrived. I found a stash in one of the kitchen cupboards and took it out to the garden. We were sitting outside to get away from Sam’s crying – which had graduated from the old mewing squeal to a piercing scream.

  Ryan drank the beer quickly while I told him about Eve.

  ‘Why didn’t you just lie about Hayley?’ he asked, looking staggered by my stupidity.

  I shrugged. ‘Dunno. Eve just knew. Without me saying anything.’

  Ryan set down his empty bottle on the grass and laughed. ‘So correct me if I’m wrong, but that means that you managed to get Hayley into bed in about five seconds flat, whereas you’ve been living with Eve – your mind-reading girlfriend – for a month and it still hasn’t happened?’

  Piss off, Ryan.

  ‘What about you?’ I said, pointedly changing the subject.

  ‘This and that,’ he said, smugly. He raised his eyebrows, obviously hoping I’d ask more questions so he could boast about however many girls it was he’d shagged since I last saw him.

  I suddenly didn’t want to hear it.

  ‘Chloe’s coming over later,’ I said. ‘D’you want to stay?’

  A weird expression crossed Ryan’s face. Sort of scared and hurt and worried all at once. He stood up. ‘No. Er . . . I need to get going anyway. I’m meeting someone.’

  ‘What’s going on with you two?’ I said. ‘When did you actually last see each other?’

  ‘Mmmn.’ Ryan wouldn’t meet my eyes. ‘Well, I may have failed to fill you in on all the details when we . . . er . . . last time we spoke . . .’

  ‘What d’you mean?’

  Ryan grinned. But the smile looked forced. ‘We broke up. Actually, she dumped me that night your mum had the baby.’

  ‘What? Why didn’t you say an
ything?’ I could feel my mouth hanging open and made no attempt to close it.

  ‘Didn’t want everyone making a big deal about it.’ Ryan shrugged. ‘Like you are now. Look, it’s fine. I’m fine about it.’

  ‘But . . . but . . .’ I stared at him. He did sound totally unbothered, as if he was chatting about a couple of football teams he was vaguely interested in. And yet, why wasn’t he looking properly at me?

  ‘Aren’t you upset?’ I said. Being without Eve is killing me.

  ‘No way.’ Ryan stared at the grass. ‘It’s given me a chance to see all sorts of girls. You know how I once had a thing with Kelly Simmonds? Well, she’s got a friend who—’

  ‘Hold on, Ry. Stop.’ I frowned, still failing to get my head around Ryan’s cheerful tone. ‘So you’re pleased about being dumped, then?’

  ‘It’s not a big deal,’ he said, his voice still all casual. Then he met my eyes at last. Just for a couple of seconds. But it was enough.

  He walked off. I stared after him, shocked.

  Not by what he’d said. But by the amount of hurt in his eyes. Hurt that he hadn’t been able to hide.

  Half an hour later, the phone rang.

  Trisha was out with Alice doing some food shopping and I knew from the last twenty-four hours that Mum hardly ever answered the phone any more.

  I picked up the receiver. ‘Hi.’

  There was a fierce intake of breath and then an explosion.

  ‘You sodding little shit. I’m going to kill you when I get my hands on you. Where is she? Is she with you now?’

  Jonno.

  I was so shocked that I slammed the phone down.

  It rang again immediately. I let it ring a few times, then realised if I didn’t answer it Mum might – and I didn’t want Jonno shouting at her. I picked the phone up.

  ‘Don’t you dare hang up on me again,’ Jonno roared. ‘Where’s Eve?’

  I gulped. ‘I don’t know,’ I said. This was technically true. The piece of paper on which Alejandro had written her address was screwed up in my jeans pocket. I had no idea what it said.

  ‘Don’t lie to me, you evil piece of—’

  ‘I really don’t know,’ I said, loudly. ‘She dumped me. That’s why I’m here. At home.’

  Silence. I waited while the non-psychotic part of Jonno’s brain processed this information. The last thing I wanted was to give him the satisfaction of thinking Eve no longer wanted me. But this was the only way I could think of getting him off my back. Off Mum’s back.

  ‘Hah.’ Jonno sucked in his breath again. ‘Came to her senses then, did she? Realised she can do better?’

  ‘I suppose so.’ I made rude signs with my fingers at the phone.

  Actually she’s now shacked up with a bisexual bass player and an obsessive rock guitarist.

  ‘But I don’t think she wants to go back to that prison you kept her in in Spain,’ I added.

  ‘No.’ Jonno’s voice suddenly sounded unbearably heavy and sad. ‘Well, just so long as she’s not with you,’ he growled.

  There was a long pause.

  ‘Right,’ I said.

  ‘Listen.’ Jonno was making chewing noises. I guessed he had a cigar in his mouth. I could just picture him – slicked-back hair, gold jewellery and that handsome, wasted face. ‘D’you know if she’s OK? I mean for money? It’s just I was worried that she might not have enough. I know Alejandro’s helping her. To be honest that’s the only reason why I didn’t beat him to a pulp in Madrid – but he won’t . . . he can’t do it for ever. And I know how easy it is to get into trouble when you’re broke.’ He stopped.

  This uneasy feeling twisted into my stomach.

  He cared about her. Yeah, he hated me and he didn’t want to let Eve live her own life and all that, but deep down he cared.

  ‘Luke?’

  ‘Yeah. Er . . . I think she’s fine. For money, I mean.’

  ‘Good.’

  Another long pause.

  ‘And if you do see her, tell her I’m here. If she wants to call.’

  The line went dead.

  I put the receiver down slowly.

  15

  Not talking

  ‘It’s a trick,’ Chloe said, several hours later. ‘He wants you to make Eve think he’s changed so he can kidnap her again and send her back to that hellhole in Spain.’

  We were discussing Jonno’s call with Trisha while Alice ate fishfingers at the kitchen table. Sam was grizzling in Chloe’s arms. Trisha was standing at the counter, heating up a bottle of milk for him.

  I shook my head. ‘Maybe he realises now he went too far.’

  Chloe snorted and pinched one of Alice’s fishfingers.

  ‘Hey, they’re mine,’Alice said.

  ‘You have to learn to share.’ Chloe licked her fingers.

  ‘I expect it’s a mix of things,’ Trisha said, looking irritatedly at Chloe. ‘I mean he’s bound to be worried. He’s her dad.’ She handed Chloe the warmed-up milk.

  Chloe waved the bottle in the air. ‘Like Matt’s worried about Sam?’ she said.

  We all stared at the baby. He had changed a lot since I’d left at Christmas. His face was rounder and fuller – more like a proper baby’s face. He was still scarily small, but he did look a lot cuter than he had five weeks ago.

  ‘How could anyone leave him?’ Trisha murmured.

  When Alice finished her tea, Trisha took her upstairs for a bath. Mum appeared and sat with us for a while. Then she went up to change Sam’s nappy.

  ‘Mum seems a lot better,’ Chloe said.

  I stared at her. ‘You’re kidding.’

  Chloe rolled her eyes. ‘You have no idea, Luke. It was hell here.’

  ‘Hell for Trisha, maybe,’ I said. ‘You weren’t here.’

  ‘Neither were you,’ she snapped. She stood up. ‘I’m going now. Gotta get back to the house.’

  I stared at her. ‘So how is it? You know, work and your flat-share.’

  Chloe looked at me suspiciously. ‘There’s no spare room,’ she said.

  ‘Jesus Christ, Chlo. I’m not trying to muscle in on your fabulous new life,’ I said. ‘It’s just I saw Ry earlier. He . . .’

  I stopped. Chloe’s expression had changed. The hard, ironic glare in her eye that was there almost all the time, had gone. She looked suddenly vulnerable. Like she wasn’t much older than Alice.

  ‘Ry was here?’ she said, in a tiny voice.

  ‘Yeah. He . . . look, Chlo, I know it’s none of my business, but what happened?’

  I half expected Chloe to flounce indignantly out of the room. But instead she sank back into the kitchen chair and sighed.

  ‘I thought I wanted all this other stuff. Like work,’ she said. ‘I mean, I hated school. But to be honest that stupid shop isn’t any better. In fact it’s worse. Well, worse than English anyway. You can’t turn up late and there are all these fascists there telling you what to do and it’s so boring. I mean it’s great having the money and the flat, but otherwise . . . ?’

  ‘But what about Ryan?’ I said.

  Above our heads I could hear Alice squealing as Trisha ordered her out of the bath.

  Chloe sighed again. ‘I thought I wanted to be on my own.’ She paused. ‘Well. Really I thought I wanted the chance to go out with other guys. But . . .’ she looked down at the floor.

  ‘But they didn’t ask you out?’ I grinned.

  She narrowed her eyes at me. ‘You are such a bin-licker. No. They’re just not him, that’s all.’ And she got up and stomped out of the kitchen.

  The next day was Monday. I went back to school. It was weird being there after so many weeks away. I was hauled into the head’s office first thing and given an hour-long bollocking for running away and truanting and being immature and generally excessively stupid. ‘And in your GCSE year as well, Luke,’ she said.

  As if doing it at some other time would have been fine.

  I was told I would have to do loads of extra work to catch up. And that it w
as only my home circumstances – dead dad, mad mum, though that’s not how they put it – that had persuaded them against permanently excluding me.

  I sat there, taking it, feeling resentful and sulky. God. Three days ago I’d been living in a great house, learning to play the guitar from a genius guitar player. And Eve had loved me.

  Eve.

  Whenever I thought about her it hurt in the pit of my stomach. I had her address. I could go round. I should, maybe, to tell her about Jonno’s phone call. I knew Cal and George weren’t going to be here very long. In a week’s time she’d probably be back in Cornwall, hundreds of miles away.

  But I was scared to see her. Not just because she might not take me back. But in case she did. And then I would face a choice I didn’t want to make.

  Eve or Mum.

  On Wednesday, Trisha told me that she was going to move back home at the weekend. ‘I can’t stay here any longer, Luke,’ she said. ‘I need to get the place ready for the new baby. And it’s starting to affect Alice being here all the time. And your Mum’s getting better now.’

  It was true. Mum did seem a bit better. The dead look in her eye had lifted a little and she got up more and came downstairs. She’d even asked me about Eve and where we’d stayed. I knew she wanted to ask me about how far we’d gone together – and other stuff too, about drugs and money. I gave her a few, broad reassurances: I’m not a junkie; I’m not a thief. Then made it clear I didn’t want to talk. She didn’t push it.

  I started fantasising about getting Eve back and going down to Cornwall again. ‘Maybe Mum’ll be OK on her own?’ I said.

  Trisha shook her head. ‘I know it’s not fair, Luke. It should be Matt here dealing with all this. But he isn’t. And it’s not as if there’s really somewhere else you should be. You’re still at school. This is where you belong.’

  And so the week slid away.

  Cal called me on Thursday and told me to come over to George’s flat that evening for a guitar session. ‘You gotta practise every day,’ he said. ‘Or you’ll slip back.’

  ‘Will Eve be there?’ I didn’t know whether I wanted him to say yes or no.