I took them back into the sitting room and sorted through, thinking that I’d rather die than wear them. She’s small, like me, so we were OK size-wise, but – obviously – they all stank to high heaven of smoke and, to be honest, they were gross.
“What you making that face for? Not good enough for you?” She’d caught me. “Look, you’ll need a couple of T-shirts, and you’re going to need something warm. It’s dropping cold at night now. This sweater,” she rummaged vigorously in the heap and pulled out a big pink thing with a huge roll neck, “and a coat, or something. Here.” She threw a mint-green padded parka and some gloves in my direction.
“I’ll…I’ll try them upstairs.” I stumbled up and found the bathroom, dumped the clothes on the side of the bath, and slid the bolt across to lock the door. I used the toilet, and then sat there for ages, just breathing, trying to get my head around what had happened, what was still happening. It was like things were slipping and sliding around me, and I was trying to catch up, hold everything together.
After a while, I stood up and wriggled out of my hoodie. I’d have to try Val’s things, anyway. I put them on and faced the mirror. I looked like me in someone’s grandma’s clothes. It was horrific. But I was going to have to do something, wasn’t I? The filth who’d picked me up the other day would soon realize it was me they were looking for, even if Karen didn’t ring them up, which I was pretty sure she would. They’d have a description then, wouldn’t they? Even a photo. Karen had taken a couple of me with the twins when I’d first got there. They would be looking for a small, skinny girl, with long, mousy hair.
I opened the cabinet on the bathroom wall above the sink. Among the painkillers, hemorrhoid cream, and indigestion tablets were some nail scissors. Without thinking twice, I took them out and started hacking at my hair. The scissors were crap, and I could only cut through if I pulled the strands really tight. As I snipped away, I was left with handfuls of hair. I let them fall to the floor. Halfway through, I looked in the mirror. God, I looked bad. What the hell had I done? It was no good, though; now that I’d started, I’d have to see it through. I didn’t look in the mirror again until I’d gone all the way ’round.
Have you ever seen that film The English Patient? Bloody boring, if you ask me. Karen made me watch it at her house once; it went on for hours and she cried her eyes out at the end, silly cow. Anyway, one of the characters, the nurse, cut her hair off, ended up looking absolutely brilliant. She just cut it, ran her fingers through it, and there she was, like a model. Just like me. Except that I looked seriously bad. There was no way I could even go out of the house, let alone run away, looking like this. I looked at the bundles of hair lying on the floor with a sick feeling in my stomach. Was there any way to stick it back?
Val knocked on the door. “You alright in there? Jem, you alright?”
I slid the bolt back and opened the door.
“Sweet Jesus!” Yeah, it was as bad as I thought it was. “It’s alright. It’s not that bad,” she said quickly, trying to undo the damage, but we both knew she wasn’t fooling anyone. It was tragic. “I think it’s going to have to all come off, love. I’ve got some old clippers somewhere. Let me look under the sink.”
She sat me on one of the stools in the middle of the kitchen. I felt like a jarhead, wincing as the clippers buzzed in my ear.
“Sit still, love. I can’t do it if you move about.”
Eventually she stood back and admired her work. “There, that’s better.” I put my hand up to my head. It had all gone. You could feel the shape of my skull. “Not too short, love, you’ve still got a good inch. Go and look.”
I went back up to the bathroom, stood outside the door for a bit while I got up the courage to look. The girl in the mirror stared back at me. She was a stranger. I was used to seeing my face curtained by my hair, half-hidden, but now my features were laid bare – eyes, eyebrows, nose, mouth, ears, jawline. I looked about ten, a ten-year-old boy. I scowled, and the person in the mirror scowled back. He might be small, but you wouldn’t mess with him. I was fierce. Intense eyes, strong cheekbones, and you could see the jaw muscles through the side of my face. It might feel like my protective layer had been stripped away, but this was a pretty powerful look. I guessed I could live with it. I ran my hands through, starting to enjoy the feel of the newly cut ends.
When I walked into the front room, Spider was back. His jaw literally dropped, I swear it did. “Fucking hell, I’ve only been gone half an hour, what’ve you done?” He walked around me, examining me from every angle. “Oh, my God,” he was laughing. “You look way cool!” He reached out and touched my hair.
“Get off!” I wasn’t public property. He jumped back, holding both his hands up in defense.
“OK, OK.” He was still laughing, then he sobered up. “Listen, we need to get going. Sooner the better.”
“Where you going, son?” Val asked.
Spider shuffled his feet, looking down at the carpet. “It’s better if you don’t know, Nan…”
“Alright, but you’ll ring me, won’t you? Let me know you’re OK?”
“Yeah, I’ll try.”
Val had put some stuff together in a bag: food, a sleeping bag, a blanket. I went upstairs to fetch my “real” clothes, and put them in a shopping bag Val had found for me. We stood around awkwardly for a minute, then Spider coughed. “Come on, time to go.” He reached down and hugged his nan. She held him close. I tried not to think that this was probably the last time they’d see each other.
Spider picked up the bags and moved toward the front door. Val caught my arm. “Take good care of him, Jem.” Those hazel eyes looked deep into mine. I swallowed hard, but didn’t say anything. I couldn’t promise anything, could I? “Keep him safe.” I looked away, and straight off she dug her fingernails into my arm. “Do you know something? Do you know something about Terry?”
I gasped; she was starting to hurt me.
“No,” I lied.
“Look at me, Jem. Do you know something?”
I pressed my lips together, shook my head.
“Oh, Christ,” she murmured, her pupils widening in alarm. “Just do your best, Jem.”
She let go of my arm and we walked into the hall. Spider had opened the door a crack and was peering out.
“OK,” he said, “I think it’s clear. Let’s go!” He darted out to a red car parked halfway on the sidewalk, clicked open the trunk, and chucked in the bags.
“What the…? Is this yours?” I stuttered.
He looked up and grinned. “It is now. Get in, quick.” He was looking up and down the road, twitching like mad.
Val fumbled in her pocket and brought out a fiver. “Here,” she said, trying to give it to Spider, “take this.”
He smiled and closed her hand around it. “Nah, don’t worry, Nan, I got money.”
“I don’t care, Terry. This is mine. It’s all I’ve got. I want you to have it. Take it.” She shoved it into his pocket.
“What you gonna live on?” Even in such a hurry, he had time to think about her.
“Don’t worry, I get my Disability money tomorrow. I’ll be fine. You have it. Get some chips or something.”
“Cheers, Nan.” He bent to hug her again. Her eyes closed as she held him one last time. “I’ll be in touch. See you soon, yeah?”
“Yeah, alright, son.”
We got in the car, and Spider reached beneath the steering wheel with both hands and rummaged around until the car spluttered into life. As we drove off, I looked behind. Val was standing on the pavement, just watching, hand half-raised. Her voice echoed in my head: “Do your best, Jem.” I wanted to tell Spider to stop the car there and then. I wanted to get out and run, and just keep running until I had a heart attack or someone caught me and none of it was in my hands anymore. Deep down inside I knew there was nothing I could do to keep Spider safe – his time was coming, and it was days rather than weeks now.