Jenny Downham: You Against Me

Mikey shook his head as Jacko walked backwards away from him. ‘The Vikings?’

‘Yep. And don’t worry, the face-to-face thing’s gonna happen. We’ll perforate him at the end, when it’s quiet.’ He tapped a finger to his head. ‘Stay frosty.’

Mikey took another swig of whisky and watched the clouds. Soon it would rain again. A downpour would be good – wet people rushing back to cars, the whole party ruined. Tom Parker would be left alone. An easy target.

Mikey scanned the lawn, looking for him, but he’d gone now, the circle of men broken up. There was the drunk girl again, moving slowly along the fence, staring at her own feet. She wouldn’t be any help.

But there – who was that? On the bench, underneath that tree. Lanterns swayed above her, people everywhere, and her simply sitting there, the one still point. Mikey put the whisky in his pocket, plucked two beers from a waitress and smiled. He knew this girl. She’d opened the door to him earlier. She was Tom Parker’s sister.

When he got to the bench, she looked up, but didn’t smile.

‘Mind if I sit down?’ he said.

She shrugged, as if she didn’t care either way, and slid along to make room. He put the beers on the bench between them. ‘One of these is for you.’

‘No thanks.’ Her voice was softer than he remembered.

He took out his tobacco and rolled a thin one, offered it across. ‘Smoke?’

She shook her head.

‘So,’ he said, ‘not in a party mood then?’

‘Not particularly.’

‘Missing revision?’

He meant it as a joke, but she didn’t get it. ‘It’s not that, it’s just, I never expected it to be so…’

She let the sentence drop.

A group of girls cheered as some Lady Gaga song suddenly blared from the speakers outside the marquee. They started dancing, singing along to the words and pointing their fingers at the sky. A couple of boys stood watching and one of the girls wiggled her arse at them. Adults stood about on the grass, leaning towards each other in deep conversation. It was like there were two parties happening at once.

‘Your brother knows a lot of people,’ he said.

She sighed. ‘Never underestimate the power of curiosity.’

‘Are any of your friends here?’

‘I didn’t invite anyone.’

‘You invited me.’

‘Apart from you.’

She slid a fraction further away to show her utter lack of interest. He smiled. This would be a breeze.

‘Where’s your boyfriend then? Is he here?’

She frowned. ‘Who?’

‘Just thought you’d be with someone. Looking like you do.’

‘No.’

Mikey inhaled, exhaled. He knew it was up to him to say something else, but most girls would’ve laughed when he mentioned a boyfriend, would’ve been flattered. Now everything that came into his head sounded fake. He sat and smoked and tried to work out what to do next.

It was solved for him – her phone rang and she stood up to fish it out of her pocket. ‘Tom, yeah, I did text you,’ she said. ‘Because I couldn’t see you anywhere, that’s why. This is madness. Do you even know half these people?’ She glanced back at Mikey only briefly before walking off down the slope. When she got to the fence, she opened a gate he hadn’t even known was there and disappeared through it. Now what did he do?

Across the grass, Jacko was talking to some bloke in a suit and tie. He was taking his responsibilities seriously by the look of it – nodding and smiling, asking questions, gathering information. Mikey felt his throat tighten. That Jacko would do this for him when it wasn’t even his fight – it was like having a brother.

He stood up, determined. He was going to walk across the grass and go through that gate and make Tom Parker’s sister talk.

As he crossed the lawn, he realized how massive this garden was. Holly would love to live in a place like this – so big she could have her own frigging football pitch. Beyond the fence was the river, so that gate must be a private entrance to it. He imagined him and Holly running down this slope to their boat, jumping in whenever they wanted and getting the hell out of this town.

The lights from the party didn’t reach the river, but he could still see the girl through the gate. She was off the phone now, standing there gazing across the water. A train was moving slowly along the tracks on the other side of the river. Its lights splashed the grass at her feet, her face lit up for a second and then went dark again. He’d envy this party if he was on that train – the marquee, the music, the enormity of the place. Funny how things could seem better from far away.

Before he even got through the gate she said, ‘You shouldn’t sneak up on people in the dark.’

‘I wasn’t.’

‘Yeah, you were.’

He shut the gate behind him. ‘What’s so interesting through here anyway?’

‘Nothing.’ She waved her hand at the water. ‘It’s a river. There was a train and now it’s gone.’ She turned to him. ‘As you can see, it’s totally fascinating.’

‘You should be careful,’ he said, ‘wandering about on your own.’

She didn’t even blink. ‘Is that supposed to be funny?’

Her eyes burned with something. Anger? Sadness? He had to look away. Karyn had eyes that deep. He swigged the last of his beer and chucked the empty bottle at the river. They both watched it – a dark missile, arcing against the sky before splashing into the water. Somewhere not far away, a duck called in alarm and then everything went quiet again.

Now what should he do? He wasn’t going to look at her again, that was for sure. He didn’t want to get to know her in that way, didn’t need bridges between them. He tried to remember the plan. He had to believe he’d come to this party for something. He was supposed to be getting information out of her, that was it. But before he could think of anything to ask, she nudged his arm and pointed across the water to the field beyond.

‘See the horses?’ she said. He hadn’t even noticed them – three of them beyond the railway line, marooned together under a tree. ‘Keep watching them. Watch by their feet.’

It made his eyes go funny to stare into the darkness. The field became dark blue and thunderous as he watched, although as he kept looking, the colours got less dense and the edge of his vision became ragged with grey. Then, from below the tree, a shadow moved, hesitated, moved again. A fox, low and sleek, stood exposed on the grass, one paw raised, before gathering itself and vanishing diagonally across the field.

‘See that?’ she said.

‘Yeah.’

She sighed, as if she was satisfied it existed now he’d seen it too. He glanced at her briefly, even though he’d told himself he wouldn’t. He noticed her scar again. She saw him looking, ran her tongue along it. ‘A dog bit me.’

‘Serious?’

She nodded. ‘I was on holiday and it came running out of the woods and jumped at my face. They thought it had rabies, but it didn’t.’

‘Rabies?’

‘We were in Kenya.’

The closest he’d got to Africa was Dex teaching him how to roast goat meat with garlic.

She peered at him. ‘Have you got any scars?’

Imagine she’s some girl in a pub, he thought, and make something up. It helped not to look. ‘I got shot once,’ he told her, ‘but it’s on my arse.’

She laughed for the first time and he felt ridiculously pleased with himself. ‘Some guy shot me five times at point blank range. You want to see?’

She shook her head, still smiling. ‘You were running away if he shot you in the arse. Which makes you a coward.’

Now that wasn’t an ordinary line – too quick-witted. Again, he felt confused. He wondered about this girl. She wasn’t even drunk, not remotely, and there was loads of booze at the house. He decided to get back to the point.