Deborah Levy - Billy and Girl

Girl hopes the Merc is going to change her life. The days of minicab protection are over! She watches Raj remake the Merc with real excitement about all the rides they’re going to go on, a thermos of margaritas in the hamper. She sits on the bonnet, Raj under the car, just chatting. Telling him about her life view and what she thinks about certain events. He loves mending the Merc. Makes a change from selling dead fruit to Stupid Club.

Because Raj is always under the car trying to figure out how to fix something that was made in 1959, he doesn’t get to do much of the talking. Anyone walking past the Merc would think Girl was sitting on the bonnet talking to herself.

‘I hate it when people say, Are you all right? What are you supposed to reply? You fall over in the street, rip your elbows and scab your knees. Someone comes over and says, Are you all right?’

Raj smiles under the car. Even though she can’t see him, maybe she can feel his smile? He’s also noticed that she’s wearing blue knickers with a little flower pattern on ’em.

‘You’re hurting and just want to bawl. Everyone watching and your bag’s tipped over the pavement. Are you all right?’ They know you’re not all right, Raj! They know that when they ask you.’

Girl crosses her arms and makes herself comfortable. Watching a Stupid Club member go into the shop. Probably got wind of the mince pies Raj’s father bought in bulk from the plumber who came to mend his central heating.

‘I don’t believe in being brave, Raj. I’m sick of courage. When do you have to start with this bravery requirement? Jeeezus! Who wants a row of medals clinking on your Mothercare anorak?’

The truth is Girl and Billy are getting over their exposure to Dadness. Quiet is required. Hot baths. Small activities. Choosing a moisturiser. Cutting up cinema seats. Talking to Raj. Leafing through Harpers and Queen to see who has been drinking champagne with who. Sometimes going out to write MOM CALL HOME messages. Whipping up a banana milkshake afterwards. Trying to get to sleep without thinking first. Watching the neighbourhood cats slug out their territory battles.

Raj listening. Enjoying himself. Thinking about Merc parts and the pretty pants Girl wears and how her talking to him makes him feel happy.

All the kids in England. Being brave. Being all right. Being okay.

Louise pressed the doorbell at number 24 with the tips of her small fingers. Just a little tinkle. ‘Nothing to worry about’ was her message.

The lightest of pressure. The smallest of interruptions. When Billy heard it, he wanted to lock himself in the bathroom. Girl said, ‘Nothing to worry about, Billy. It’s only Louise.’

Louise is not pale. She’s past being pale. Girl can see through her cheeks. Louise is wearing a minikilt, leggings and horrible shoes. Shoes with no hope in them. Beige rubber soles.

‘Hello.’

Sweet. She’s painted clear varnish onto her chewed-up little nails to strengthen them. Somewhere, despite the shoes, Louise cares. The silky blondeness of her hair. Girl reminds herself that she’s got two plastic heart hair clips for Louise upstairs. She wants to put them in for her. A middle parting. Clip on each side.

Louise is wearing a bottle-green turtleneck jumper. A jumper with zero attitude in it. Only the tartan mini is any good — just like in Girl’s dream. Louise needs to be dressed by an expert. Girl is already going through her own wardrobe making up outfits for her. Louise has got a dimple in her cheek and a vial of asbestos dust in her eyes. The Louise eyes. They grab you just when you think you’ve got away safe and sound.

Girl is going to play dirty. This is her house after all and Louise is just an intimate stranger. What the fuck is she doing here?

‘All right?’

‘Yeah.’

Louise could really be beautiful. Girl is being brave.

‘Do you want to come in?’

Louise nods. Of course she does. Girl has known this for some time. The Louise tangle. Louise walks in in her horrible shoes. It’s the shoes that hurt Girl most. Louise has arrived. Girl points her in the direction of the kitchen where Billy is making tea. Billy is very busy. The tea takes up all his boy concentration. What with the teabags and the water all having to get to the teapot. That would be a good topic for Stupid Club — the time it takes to make a pot of tea. Girl knows that Billy is working out the meaning of this event for his book, that’s why he’s so slow.

GOD , Billy! Hurry up. Talk about the weather. Talk about paindogs and how it’s a shame milk isn’t delivered to the door any more!

Louise takes something out of her bag. Aaah. It’s a slab of marble cake! From FreezerWorld. She gets a special staff discount on all items from the bakery.

Really? Billy’s making conversation at last. He’s seen the cake. Glanced at Louise, close up and from a distance. Conversation! Here it comes!

‘Thanks.’

Girl offers Louise a menthol. Louise stares at it for a while and then shakes no with her silky hair. She stares at Girl when she lights her cigarette, watching everything Girl does. Billy pours them all a cuppa. Teatime! Tea and cake. At home with the Englands.

Louise’s voice is deadpan. Speaking facts. Speaking the truth. ‘I’ve come for my cut.’ Little hands reaching for a slice of marble cake. Lips puckering to sip the tea.

Billy’s eyes flicker towards Girl, who is sending him an SOS via brother and sister know-how. Shut the fuck up and leave this to her. Girl is still playing dirty.

‘You’ve come for your cut?’

‘Yep.’

‘Cut of what?’

Another sip of tea. Another little peck into the marble cake. Speaking facts. Watching Girl tap her silver loafers on the kitchen lino. ‘Cut from Express.’

Girl’s begining to feel bitter. So Louise thinks the Express till was a big deal, does she? Six hundred miserable fucking pounds. If Louise had got her act together and packed the peas faster, Mr Tens would have promoted her from Express to a full-blown trolley till. More groceries. More cash.

Louise and her horrifying princess eyes. ‘I gave a description of you both.’ She pauses. ‘But I gave it wrong.’ The Louise dimple creasing her see-thru cheek. She’s flirting a bit with Billy, would you believe? ‘They did an artist’s something. From what I said.’

‘It’s called a likeness.’ Girl tries to disguise the sneer in her voice.

‘Yeah. ’S nothing like you. Or him. Cos they knew it was two.’

Billy is revving up. Licking his lips. Fiddling with the spare button sewn into his shirt sleeve. The manufacturer’s precaution against loss. Girl can see what’s coming. Billy is going into Dr England mode. Dr England and his talking pain couch. Louise is Billy’s patient. Something sensible is lurking in him. It always terrifies Girl when Billy goes sensible. He’s rearranging the furniture inside Louise’s head. Except the furniture is fucking weird to start with. The table’s got no legs to support it in the first place but Dr England is going to move it somewhere. The armchair’s got cigarette burn holes all over the seat and Billy is going to shove it against the wall. Rolling up the rug and sweeping up under it. Putting it back in a different place. A whole room of weirdness rearranged. Jeezus. Why doesn’t he just chuck out the furniture and leave the room empty?

Billy has been in pain training since he was born. Girl is so freaked out by the sense look in Brother Billy. She doesn’t much care for being rearranged by a crazy. Just look at him.

Billy puts the tips of his fingers together. They make a flesh cage with a hole in it. His voice is coming through low and clear. A subtitle is passing through his vision like an autocue. LOUISE DESCRIBES RETARD RAGE ON BILLY ENGLAND’S COUCH. Now he’s speaking in his new voice. ‘Did you help Girl then, Louise?’