Juliet Bell - The Heights - A dark story of obsession and revenge

Mick and his mates made themselves at home on the steps around the statue in the middle of the village and opened the cans.

‘Saw your sister yesterday,’ Spud said. ‘She was up the blue hills with that gyppo kid. What’s his name?’

‘Heathcliff.’ Mick spat out the word as if it was leaving a foul taste on his mouth.

‘Yeah. Him. What sort of a name is that anyway? It doesn’t sound gyppo.’

‘Don’t know. Don’t care,’ Mick said, lighting another fag from the butt end of the first.

Two girls emerged from the Spar. They looked up the hill towards the statue. Mick watched as they exchanged whispers. The blonde one cast a glance his way

‘She’s a bit of all right,’ said Spud, jabbing an elbow in his ribs. ‘You might be in with a chance.’

‘Nah. She’s just a kid.’

‘I dunno,’ laughed Davo. ‘Hey, do you think that gyppo kid and your sister are…’

Mick swung his arm and slapped him up the back of the head.

‘Shut your mouth. That gyppo will never lay a finger on my sister.’

‘Yeah. Sure,’ Davo said quickly. ‘Just saying, they spend a lot of time alone out in them blue hills. Well, we all been up there with girls, haven’t we? You know what goes on.’

Mick crushed his empty can against the statue. Spud kicked his across the square. ‘I’ve gotta get back.’

Mick frowned. Spud never had anywhere to be. ‘Where you going?’

His mate shrugged. ‘Tracy’s mam said I could do a few hours for her on service washes.’

‘Fucking laundry?’

‘Tracy says we have to start saving for baby coming.’

‘Well, bugger off then.’ Mick’s expression closed as his mate strolled away. Spud was trapped. He wasn’t old enough to order a pint in the pub, but he’d got Tracy up the duff and now he had to marry her. He’d have a kid to support. They had no money and were living with her parents. No way Mick was going to end up like that.

Davo chucked his own can against the statue and stood up.

‘You off too?’

‘Well, there’s nowt doing here, is there?’ The clock on the building opposite hit twelve o’clock. ‘Mam’ll have lunch on.’

That was a thought. Mick’s mum would be at one of her church groups, but when she got back she’d do sandwiches with the leftovers from the roast. Mick shrugged. ‘Suit yourself. I’ve got stuff to do too.’

Davo nodded. ‘See you then.’

Mick made his way through town and onto the Heights. It was pretty quiet this time of day. Two of his mates from school had already moved to Manchester to work. One had gone all the way down to London. Some were already working at the pit. A couple of others had gone to college. He saw them every afternoon trudging up from the bus stop at the bottom of the estate at the end of the day. If he ever got away from Gimmerton, he’d never come back. He wasn’t going to end up like his dad, working in the same place every day for forty years, just to pay the mortgage on a terraced house in the Heights. Mick opened the front door and shouted for his mother. There was no answer. He stood at the bottom of the stairs and shouted again. ‘Mum. I want a sandwich.’

No answer. She mustn’t be back yet. He’d have to make his own sandwich. Then he might go up the blue hills. Cathy was a pain but she was his sister. He weren’t going to have people saying his sister was at it with some pikey bastard.

Chapter Five

April, 1983

Cathy watched the other kids shuffle forward in front of her. She could feel the itching starting at the back of her neck. Her head always itched in the queue. She couldn’t help but imagine the nits crawling through her curls, drinking her blood and laying their eggs in her hair. She thought about it. Had it been itching before she got in the queue? Had it been itching at playtime? Or last night in bed?

She was second from the front now.

‘Hands out of pockets.’ Mrs Bell’s cold voice made her look around. Heathcliff, standing behind her, was the object of the teacher’s glare. She was always telling Heathcliff off. He shrugged his hands down by his side and stared at Cathy.

The queue moved forward. At the front of the line Joanne Warren was having her ginger curls pulled one way and the other by a fat, grumpy-looking woman in a dark-blue dress. Cathy felt her hand rising to scratch the crown of her skull. She stopped herself. Joanne was released by the nurse and the queue moved forward again. Cathy watched Suki Karim unplait her long black hair as she stepped forward. Cathy would be next.

Something jabbed into the small of her back. She spun round. Heathcliff’s grubby finger was still digging into her torso. ‘What?’ she whispered.

He stuck his tongue out at her, rolling it into a tube. She did the same in response. He grinned. It was their secret sign. Mick couldn’t do it and he hated it when they did. Cathy could still see the shadow of the bruises on Heathcliff’s arms where Mick had thumped him yesterday, for doing exactly what he was doing now. Heathcliff never let Mick get him down. Or anyone for that matter. If he could stand up to Mick’s bullying, there was no way a few nits were going to get to Cathy.

‘Catherine Earnshaw!’ Mrs Bell pointed towards the nurse, who had finished her inspection of Suki and was waiting for the next victim.

Cathy stepped into position and turned around, bending her head slightly forward. The nurse smelt of disinfectant and cigarette smoke. She tugged Cathy’s hair apart in sections, and Cathy could feel the woman’s breath on her scalp as she leaned close to make her inspection. ‘All right then.’

Cathy started to walk away.

‘Wait over there for me, pet.’

Cathy stopped. The nurse was pointing towards the corner of shame. Kevin Harrison was already standing there. Kevin Harrison had a black ring around the collar of his school shirt and everyone knew his clothes came out of the charity box at church. Cathy felt tears welling up behind her eyes. She heard a couple of sniggers in the queue. It wasn’t even just her class any more. They’d started to bring the next class in. The whole school would be laughing at her now. They’d be calling her the same names she used to call Kevin Harrison and his sister.

Heathcliff was with the nurse now. He had his head bent forward away from Cathy, but she could see his fist balling up at his side. After a few seconds the nurse released him. ‘Okay. Back to class.’

Heathcliff didn’t move.

‘You’re done, pet. Back to your classroom.’

`Don’t you want me to stand in the corner?’

The kids in the line were interested now. Nobody volunteered to stand in the corner. That wasn’t how the corner worked. The corner was somewhere you got sent. The corner was for the dirty kids, the nitty, infected, outcast kids.

The nurse shook her head. ‘No. You’re fine.’

Heathcliff unclenched his fist, but only for a second before it balled back up again.

‘Heath!’ Cathy hissed his name.

The fist unfurled, and found itself stuffed into his pocket. ‘I’m gonna stand in the corner, miss.’

The nurse shot a look towards Mrs Bell, who shrugged.

‘Fine. Next!’

Heathcliff stood himself next to Cathy and pulled his hand out of his pocket, wrapping his fingers around hers.

‘What are you doing?’ she whispered.

He stared straight into her eyes. ‘Making sure we’re together.’

She didn’t say anything. She didn’t need to. He was right, of course. They were always meant to be together, wherever they were.

Mick lit a cigarette, drawing deeply to make the red flame glow brightly. That should catch their attention. He leaned back against the graffiti-covered wall, doing his best to look cool. He started to hum the new Madness single, and tugged at his jacket the way Suggs did when he sang. Mick took another draw on his cigarette in the way he’d practised in the mirror and ran his hands through his hair. He wouldn’t mind a skinhead cut. But he knew his old man would hit the roof if he did.