Дэвид Муди - Strangers

‘Does what?’

‘Walks away when she doesn’t want to hear what someone’s saying. Does my head in.’

The sisters sat down on the stone wall around the edge of the car park, their brother parked between them.

‘That school looked all right, actually,’ Phoebe said. Tammy just looked at her.

‘You serious? You must be off your head, Pheeb. It looked like a fucking hole, just like the rest of this dump of a place.’

‘It is Sunday though, Tam. Everywhere’s quiet on a Sunday.’

‘You all right, girls?’ an unexpected voice asked. They turned and saw a group of three lads and a girl standing on the other side of the wall. Two of the boys, Tammy quickly decided, were nothing special: all bad hair, cheap sports gear and exaggerated swagger. The one in the middle though, the tallest of the three, the only one who wasn’t smoking, was quite cute. But she’d already decided there was an insurmountable difference between a quite cute boy from Thussock and a quite cute boy from Redditch. These people were alien to her.

‘We’ve just moved here,’ Phoebe said and Tammy glared and shushed her. Too much information.

‘Never a good move,’ the smallest of the boys said, his T-shirt flapping against his willowy frame in the wind. He looked colder than he was letting on. He had a sharp nose and small eyes and looked like he was scowling. ‘Should’a stayed where you was. Fuck all happens here.’

Tammy struggled to work out what it was he’d just said. His accent was so strong, so unfathomable, that she had to replay the sounds over in her head a couple of times before she could make out the individual words and un-jumble them. ‘We didn’t ask to come here,’ she said, not wanting to engage, but not wanting anyone to think she was here through choice either.

The girl leant over the wall and peered down at George. ‘That your kid?’ she asked.

‘What do you think?’ Tammy said, sounding more aggressive than she’d intended.

‘Don’t know, that’s why I asked.’

‘No, he’s our brother.’

‘He’s cute,’ she said, apparently unperturbed. ‘I’m Heather.’

‘Hey.’

‘I’m Jamie,’ the tallest lad said, introducing himself. ‘This here’s Joel and Sean.’

Tammy just nodded and grunted something that was hardly even a word. She turned back around to emphasise her disinterest and stared at the Co-op, hoping her mum would reappear and get them away from here. The automatic doors slid open and Scott emerged with a bulging carrier bag in either hand. For once she was relieved to see him. She could already sense the crowd behind her beginning to slope away, all cigarette smoke and put-on attitude. She glanced over her shoulder and made sure they’d gone.

‘Were they giving you any trouble?’ Scott asked.

‘No,’ she replied, indignant. Even if they were, she didn’t need his help to deal with them.

Michelle watched the group disappear. She hated herself for sounding like such a snob, but she didn’t like the idea of her girls mixing with kids like that. And she knew that attitude was unfair and probably wholly unwarranted, but for now that was just how it was. She wondered if she’d have felt different if she’d seen the same kids in Redditch?

‘So what’s for dinner?’ Phoebe asked, more interested in her stomach than anything else.

‘All kinds of crap,’ Scott said. ‘Mostly junk food, stuff that’s really bad for you. That okay?’

‘Perfect.’

‘That’s what I thought you’d say.’

They walked back to the car which was parked all alone, numerous empty bays on either side. Michelle strapped George into his seat while Scott collapsed the buggy and loaded it into the boot with the shopping.

‘Wait up! ’Scuse me, sir!’

Scott looked around and saw one of the Co-op staff running towards him, waving furiously, already out of breath despite the relatively short distance he’d covered. He was in his late forties or early fifties, Scott thought, plump, and with a ruddy complexion and a shock of wild auburn hair which was just on the wrong side of being under control. He stopped short of Scott and stared at him with wide eyes, made to look even wider by the circular frames and magnifying lenses of his glasses. Scott was immediately on guard. He’d clocked this particular joker in the store, stacking shelves and collecting up trolleys and baskets with unnecessary enthusiasm.

‘What’s the problem?’

‘There’s no problem.’

The man, whose name was Graham according the name badge clipped onto his tie, just stood there.

‘What then?’

‘Eh?’

‘What do you want?’

‘Oh, right,’ Graham said, remembering why he was there. ‘You left your wallet in the shop.’ He handed it over. ‘Good job I was looking out for you, eh?’

Scott instinctively checked his pockets, then took his wallet from Graham’s outstretched hand. He checked his bank cards and counted the notes at the back.

‘It’s all there,’ Graham said.

‘Cheers.’

‘Don’t mention it,’ he said, and with that he was off again. He jogged back to the shop, suddenly veering off to the left to round up a rogue trolley he’d somehow missed when he’d last checked outside a few minutes earlier.

‘Thank you,’ Michelle shouted after him. Graham waved but didn’t look back.

‘Weirdo,’ Scott said.

‘That’s a bit harsh.’

‘Well, I mean… just look at him.’

‘What about him?’

‘Bloke his age, collecting trolleys for a living.’

‘Don’t be so hard on him, love. Looked to me like he’d got learning difficulties, something like that. Anyway, he’s working, and that’s got to be a good thing, hasn’t it? It’s more than either of us are doing at the moment.’

‘What’s that supposed to mean? We only just got here. Haven’t started looking for work yet.’

‘I know. I wasn’t suggesting anything, I was just saying it’s good to see people like him getting on so well, that’s all.’

‘Still a weirdo.’

Michelle sighed. ‘He might be thinking the same about you. Look at it from his point of view, Scott. The folks here all know each other and they all know this place. Right now we’re the strangers.’

The family’s improvised lunch was just about sufficient. They ate in the kitchen, all sitting around the rickety table they’d inherited from the house’s former owner. It started to feel reassuringly normal. ‘It’s like we’re on holiday,’ Phoebe said.

‘Except you’ve got school tomorrow,’ Scott reminded her.

‘And you’re supposed to enjoy holidays, remember?’ Tammy said.

Michelle shook her head. ‘Give it a rest, Tam.’

‘You know what I mean, though?’ Phoebe explained. ‘It’s like when you’re stopping in a caravan, and it’s home, but it’s not home? You get it, don’t you Mum? You’ve got all the same people around you and all the same stuff, but it’s not home. Feels like it by the end of the week, though.’

‘Remember when we went to the Isle of Wight?’ Scott said. ‘You two bottled it in the haunted house at that fair, remember?’

‘I was only ten,’ Phoebe protested. ‘It was scary.’

‘You should have seen your faces,’ he laughed, remembering the way they’d both coming running back out through the entrance, barging through the queue still trying to get in. ‘Priceless. You scared one woman half to death!’

‘You were just as bad,’ Tammy said. ‘You wouldn’t even go on the rollercoaster.’

‘I wasn’t feeling great. It was those chips. They didn’t agree with me.’

‘Yeah, right. I think you bottled it.’

‘We all ate the chips, Scott…’ Michelle said and he glared at her. The girls laughed and he had to admit defeat.