Catherine Bruton: I Predict a Riot

First published in Great Britain 2014

by Electric Monkey, an imprint of Egmont UK Limited

The Yellow Building, 1 Nicholas Road, London W11 4AN

Text copyright © Catherine Bruton 2014

The moral rights of the author have been asserted

First e-book edition 2014

ISBN 978 1 4052 6719 9

eISBN 978 1 7803 1345 0

www.egmont.co.uk

A CIP catalogue record for this title is available from the British Library

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without the prior written permission of the publisher.

Stay safe online. Any website addresses listed in this book are correct at the time of going to print. However, Egmont is not responsible for content hosted by third parties.

Please be aware that online content can be subject to change and websites can contain content that is unsuitable for children. We advise that all children are supervised when using the internet.

This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to actual persons – living or dead – is purely coincidental.

EGMONT

Our story began over a century ago, when seventeen-year-old Egmont Harald Petersen found a coin in the street. He was on his way to buy a flyswatter, a small hand-operated printing machine that he then set up in his tiny apartment.

The coin brought him such good luck that today Egmont has offices in over 30 countries around the world. And that lucky coin is still kept at the company’s head offices in Denmark.

For all my Peckham people, Clare, Howard, Nye, Nicola, James, Jo, Millie, Jonny, Joe and Elsie the Twinkle, with love.

Cover

Title page

Copyright First published in Great Britain 2014 by Electric Monkey, an imprint of Egmont UK Limited The Yellow Building, 1 Nicholas Road, London W11 4AN Text copyright © Catherine Bruton 2014 The moral rights of the author have been asserted First e-book edition 2014 ISBN 978 1 4052 6719 9 eISBN 978 1 7803 1345 0 www.egmont.co.uk A CIP catalogue record for this title is available from the British Library All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without the prior written permission of the publisher. Stay safe online. Any website addresses listed in this book are correct at the time of going to print. However, Egmont is not responsible for content hosted by third parties. Please be aware that online content can be subject to change and websites can contain content that is unsuitable for children. We advise that all children are supervised when using the internet. This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to actual persons – living or dead – is purely coincidental. EGMONT Our story began over a century ago, when seventeen-year-old Egmont Harald Petersen found a coin in the street. He was on his way to buy a flyswatter, a small hand-operated printing machine that he then set up in his tiny apartment. The coin brought him such good luck that today Egmont has offices in over 30 countries around the world. And that lucky coin is still kept at the company’s head offices in Denmark.

Dedication For all my Peckham people, Clare, Howard, Nye, Nicola, James, Jo, Millie, Jonny, Joe and Elsie the Twinkle, with love.

SCENE 1: MAGGIE’S HOUSE, BY THE SEA SCENE 1: MAGGIE’S HOUSE, BY THE SEA It’s been a year since everything happened, but I still have bad dreams. Dreams of last summer – of me and Tokes and Little Pea – in the park, under the arches, racing through burning streets on the night the city was in flames. It’s like a movie running through my head – the same one night after night. Then I wake up to the sound of the waves and I remember how the story ends. We live by the sea now, my mum and me. In a house with a long garden that runs down to a pebbly beach, far away from where it all happened. I can see the water from my bedroom window, hear the waves lapping on the pebbles. And there’s nothing to do here but remember how one of my friends is dead and the other one might as well be. All because of me. I think he has a new name now which would make Little Pea laugh because he always reckoned it was a stupid name. He’s got a whole new identity too: new home, new life – new start. A witness-protection programme. The police had to make him and his whole family disappear so Shiv and the Starfish Gang would never find them. And that means they can’t tell me where he is and I can never contact him. Ever. No phone, no text, no email, no Facebook. Nothing. It’s for his own safety, I suppose, but he probably never wants to see or speak to me again anyway. Most days I watch the film we made last summer. I’ve had a long time to try and finish it, but it still feels like something is missing. Even though I’ve cut and edited bits, changed angles, altered the soundtrack, I can’t ever seem to change the story it tells. Just like in my dreams.

SCENE 2: A PARK IN SOUTH LONDON

SCENE 3: CORONATION ROAD LIBRARY

SCENE 4: OUTSIDE THE LIBRARY

SCENE 5: CORONATION ROAD

SCENE 6: BEHIND THE FISH FACTORY

SCENE 7: MAGGIE’S HOUSE

SCENE 8: OUTSIDE MAGGIE’S BEDROOM

SCENE 9: THE NEXT MORNING. CHOUDHARY’S ELECTRICAL STORE

SCENE 10: MAGGIE’S DEN

SCENE 11: OUTSIDE THE STARFISH PROJECT

SCENE 12: CORONATION ROAD

SCENE 13: OUTSIDE THE PICTURE GALLERY

SCENE 14: MAGGIE’S BEDROOM

SCENE 15: MAGGIE’S DEN

SCENE 16: THE LOUNGE IN MAGGIE’S HOUSE

SCENE 17: TOKES’S BEDSIT

SCENE 18: CORONATION ROAD

SCENE 19: CORONATION ROAD. DUSK

SCENE 20: CORONATION ROAD. EVENING

SCENE 21: CORONATION ROAD. THE NEXT DAY

SCENE 22: THE LOUNGE IN MAGGIE’S HOUSE

SCENE 23: BEHIND THE FISH FACTORY

SCENE 24: THE PARK

SCENE 25: THE PARK. MOMENTS LATER

SCENE 26: THE PARK, A FEW MINUTES LATER

SCENE 27: A HOUSE BY THE SEA. ONE YEAR LATER

SCENE 28: THE BEACH

Acknowledgements

Praise for We Can be Heroes and Pop! , also by Catherine Bruton

Books by Catherine Bruton

It’s been a year since everything happened, but I still have bad dreams. Dreams of last summer – of me and Tokes and Little Pea – in the park, under the arches, racing through burning streets on the night the city was in flames. It’s like a movie running through my head – the same one night after night. Then I wake up to the sound of the waves and I remember how the story ends.

We live by the sea now, my mum and me. In a house with a long garden that runs down to a pebbly beach, far away from where it all happened. I can see the water from my bedroom window, hear the waves lapping on the pebbles. And there’s nothing to do here but remember how one of my friends is dead and the other one might as well be. All because of me.

I think he has a new name now which would make Little Pea laugh because he always reckoned it was a stupid name. He’s got a whole new identity too: new home, new life – new start. A witness-protection programme. The police had to make him and his whole family disappear so Shiv and the Starfish Gang would never find them. And that means they can’t tell me where he is and I can never contact him. Ever. No phone, no text, no email, no Facebook. Nothing. It’s for his own safety, I suppose, but he probably never wants to see or speak to me again anyway.