She’s Not There. Tamsin Grey

       12

      ‘Is she here, have you seen her?’ Raff had come running out of his class.

      ‘Shut up, shut up!’ Jonah grabbed Raff’s arm and pulled him across the Infants’ playground.

      ‘Shut up yourself, dumbhead!’ Raff said, trying to kick his ankles.

      ‘You don’t have to talk so loud. Mrs Blakeston could have heard.’

      ‘So what?’

      They were out of school, standing by the crossing. Saviour and Emerald had already crossed and were walking up the hill, hand in hand.

      ‘Let’s go with them,’ said Raff, tugging him. ‘I want to see Dylan.’

      ‘No, come on, let’s go home and see if she’s there.’

      The dead fox was looking much deader now. Jonah wondered if its soul was already reborn, or whether it was a ghost, still, looking down at its smashed body. On Southway Street they passed Mabel and Greta, and their mother Alison, as they were going through their front gate.

      ‘Hello boys,’ said Alison. ‘Everything OK?’

      ‘Yes, thank you,’ said Jonah. Alison didn’t like Lucy, and she didn’t think the boys should walk to and from school by themselves. Taking Raff’s arm again, Jonah slowed them both right down, to make sure Alison and the girls were inside their own house before they got to their front door.

      The door had been painted maroon, but a long time ago, and the maroon was all peeling off, showing the white paint beneath it. Jonah banged the knocker. Then he banged it again. Raff couldn’t quite reach the knocker, but he shouted, ‘Mayo!’ a few times through the letter box, while Jonah kept knocking. Then they stopped. The sun beat down and Jonah felt sweat trickle from his armpits. The white patches in the maroon reminded him of the marks Violet’s paws had made in the dirt on the van, and he stared at them for a moment, imagining they were some kind of code which, if he could crack it, would tell him what to do. He turned and looked over at the squatters’ house. Their front door was open, and he could see all the way along the dark hallway, with its red and gold wallpaper, to the rectangle of light at the end.

      ‘What shall we do?’ said Raff.

      Jonah gazed at the rectangle, which was the squatters’ open back door. Were the two open doors, that blaze of light, another sign, a kind of call? He imagined walking down the hallway and out into the garden. The squatters would be sitting, or lying down, probably smoking, one of those big, fat sharing smokes, which had made Lucy ill. He felt Raff nudging him, and cleared his throat. ‘Maybe we should ask Ilaria if we can wait with her,’ he said.

      ‘Nah, fam.’ Raff shook his head and crossed his arms, his nose wrinkled. ‘Remember those sausages.’

      Jonah nodded. It was the only time they’d been in the squatters’ house – a long time ago, just after Angry Saturday. The three of them, Lucy clutching a bottle, had walked through the open door and down the hallway, with its crazy velvet wallpaper, and its smell of incense and mould. Ilaria had been in the kitchen, making the big, ghostly sausages she called nori wraps, which were vegan, she’d told them. She had given him and Raff one each, and they were slimy and floppy, with bits sticking out each end. Neither of them could bear to take a bite, and had carried them around, not knowing how to get rid of them. In the back garden there had been a bonfire, the squatters and their friends all squatting around it, holding their hands out to it, their faces lit orange in the growing darkness. Everyone was white, and drab and raggedy compared to Lucy, who was wearing her red jumpsuit and her red lipstick. The red jumpsuit had a gold zip up the front, and the zip had worked itself down, so that you could see where her bosoms touched each other. He’d reached up to try and push it back up again.

      Then a man had offered Lucy a big smoke, and she’d taken a few puffs on it. The man had a single, very long dreadlock coming out of his chin, and Jonah and Raff hadn’t liked him, but Lucy had started chatting to him, all giggly and bright. The dreadlock man had stayed quiet, and after a while Lucy had stopped talking and gone inside. He and Raff had found her in the sitting room, lying on the floor with her eyes closed, moaning. They had both been really worried about her, and had taken it in turns to stroke her forehead. Ilaria had come in with a glass of water, and Lucy had managed to sit up and sip some. After a while she’d been well enough to stand up, and Jonah and Raff had taken her home.

      ‘Let’s go back to school,’ said Raff. ‘She might have gone in through the other gate, and still be waiting for us.’

      ‘OK.’ Jonah followed him back the way they’d come.

      The school gate was already closed, so you couldn’t get in without pressing the buzzer, but they could see that both playgrounds were empty by looking through the railings.

      ‘OK, let’s go to the park, then,’ said Jonah. He could see Christine, who was the school manager, and much stricter than any of the teachers, peering at them through the office window. ‘Come on.’ He tugged Raff’s arm. ‘We could practise, for Sports Day.’

      ‘I want to go to the Martins’,’ said Raff.

      ‘We can’t. They’re having a special dinner.’

      ‘So? They won’t mind us coming.’

      ‘They might want to be on their own.’

      Raff dropped his school bag on the ground and kicked it.

      ‘And when Lucy gets back, she won’t know where we are.’ Jonah picked Raff’s bag up and held it out to him, aware that Christine was still watching them. ‘Come on, let’s go home. If she’s still not there, we can get in through the back.’

      They crossed the crossing and walked down the hill again, Raff dragging his school bag along the ground.

      ‘Raff!’

      It was Tameron. He was squatting on the kerb over the fox, with Tyreese from Jonah’s class, and their elder brother Theodore, who went to secondary school. Tyreese was poking at the fox with a stick and the others were watching.

      ‘They shouldn’t just leave it like that, man,’ said Theodore.

      ‘Look at its eye!’ cried Tameron. ‘You lookin’ at me, Mr Foxy?’

      ‘Should we burn it?’ suggested Tyreese. He looked at Jonah. ‘You know, like the Hindus.’ Theodore shrugged and pulled out a lighter.

      ‘Come on, Raff,’ said Jonah.

      ‘Wait! I want to see it burning!’ said Raff. Jonah stepped forward and peered over their heads. Theodore wasn’t holding the lighter near enough, and anyway the flame was tiny. He looked at the fox’s face. Its eye was open, and for a tiny moment it was like it was alive, alive and wanting his attention.

      ‘Let me try, bro,’ said Tyreese. Theodore passed him the lighter, and Tyreese managed to slightly singe the fox’s fur before burning his thumb and dropping the lighter to the ground.

      Theodore picked up the lighter and put it back in his pocket. ‘Not gonna burn with just that little thing.’

      ‘We need petrol!’ said Tyreese.

      ‘Petrol!’ cried Raff. ‘We got petrol!’

      The brothers looked at him, interested, and he looked back at Jonah. Jonah shook his head.

      ‘Why not!’ said Raff.

      ‘I don’t think we should,’ said Jonah. ‘And anyway, we might not be able to get in.’

      ‘Why not?’ asked Tameron.