‘There’s a ’pprenticeship goin’ at the garage. My old teacher, McKinnon, he always liked me, it’s his brother’s place. Said he’d put in a good word for me but I gotta pass a maths test.’
‘Can you do it?’
Tyler huffed, shrugging half-heartedly.
‘Is it that it’s too difficult, or you’re letting your dickhead mates fuck with your future?’
Tyler scowled at her. ‘They’re my mates! We spent years in school. It’s crap and pointless.’
‘As pointless as working in the chippy for the rest of your life?’
‘You’re a broken fucking record, Jesus!’
Chelsea took a deep breath to give herself the patience to proceed. She knew she’d have to go carefully.
‘Babe, it’s the only way. What else you gonna do? Sell a bit of weed on the side and get nicked, like everyone else?’ She tried to stop herself rambling. ‘An apprenticeship could set you up! You’d be qualified, you could always learn more and specialise – work on Ferraris one day or something! Can you imagine?’
Tyler looked at her with a strange mixture of exasperation and affection. ‘You’re such a bloody dreamer. I think it’d be nice to work down at the garage and you start going on about Ferraris. Have you ever seen a fucking Ferrari drive into Mike’s garage?’
‘If it did, it’d come out in parts,’ she laughed, and watched as his lips tilted up briefly.
‘So pass the test, what’s the problem?’
‘Mum says it don’t pay enough. Starting salary’s less than the chippy.’
Chelsea growled a little, stubbing out the fag on the windowsill and turning to her little brother. ‘Tell her you spoke to a careers person at the youth centre and he’s found a way to get you more money for working there, a subsidy or a grant or something,’ she exhaled. ‘I’ll pay the difference into your account.’
Tyler looked at her, surprised and wary.
‘That’s not money for you to go boozing. It’s so you can get ahead and Mum can’t stop you. And don’t you fucking breathe a word to her.’
‘But Chels—’
‘You pass the test, you get on the programme, and I’ll even out the money. But you drop out and you don’t bother, I’m not helping you with shit. Got it?’
He nodded sombrely and she caught his eye, holding out her hand.
‘Deal?’
Tyler nodded and shook her hand. She took the chance to pull him in for a hug.
‘Good choice, dickhead. Now come downstairs for some birthday cake before I kill Mum.’
Tyler went to follow her, then paused. ‘Chels, you know Dad’s been asking about you. They think he’ll be out soon.’
‘And then he’ll do something stupid and be back in again,’ Chelsea shrugged, ‘what’s the point?’
‘I dunno, he’s family?’
She looked at her younger brother. ‘Is it important to you that I see him?’
Ty shrugged, looking outraged at the question. ‘I don’t care, do what you want.’
‘I’ll think about it.’
The rest of the afternoon passed easily enough into the evening with Jermaine chattering away about his birthday wishes, and Kai playing with Chelsea on the floor. When the time came to go, Tyler offered to walk her to the train station. Carly didn’t do much beyond what she normally did, which was hand Chelsea any post with her name on, mostly pointless advertising that she would bin when she got home, and stand stonily, like she’d been called to attention, part of a parade that Jez had ordered. The only thing that comforted Chelsea about it all was that she imagined her mother did exactly the same thing she did as soon as she left, take a long, deep breath, close her eyes, and be relieved it was over for another few months.
She walked in step with Tyler, her strut softening to match his slow, lazy strides.
They didn’t talk – it seemed pointless trying to catch up on lives that barely made sense to the other. They just walked next to each other, happy enough in the silence. Every now and then she noticed that Tyler looked at her like she was from a different world, one that didn’t know anything about who he really was, or how they lived. She was an impostor. But the truth was, Chelsea had always existed in a different world, even when she was stuck on that estate in Badgeley.
She called Kit on the train back, and hearing the warmth in his voice as he insisted he’d meet her at the station was a balm.
‘I don’t know, I’m exhausted,’ she sighed, ‘I was just going to walk home from the station.’
‘I’ll get you! Come on, even if it’s just the five minute drive home, I want to see you.’
She’d relented, as she often did in the face of Kit’s enthusiasm. Most days, when she was her best, most Chelsea self, she’d match him quip for quip, egging on his excitement with ideas for new adventures.
Occasionally, when he’d been working on a horrible case that seemed to draw the life out of him, he’d become quiet and soft, and she’d be the one in control, the one caring for him and suggesting things to do. Often, she was relieved at the downtime. Life with Kit was a hundred miles an hour.
Chelsea stumbled out of Kentish Town Station and a car flashed its lights further down. Inside, Kit waved, a huge grin on his face. Chelsea got in the car and looked at him, this kind, gorgeous man who for some strange reason had picked her. Kit was tall, his blond hair shorter now that he was at a big office unlike the unruly mop he had when they first met. His skin was pale, but tanned instantly, his eyes an alarming blue that always looked kind. He had that adorable sloppy look, she noticed, like he’d relaxed for the night. She loved that most, when he took off the expensive suit and left the fancy education at the door so they could curl up in comfy clothes on the sofa to watch a stupid movie. His shirt sleeves were rolled up, his collar unbuttoned, and she had never seen something that looked so much like home.
‘Hello, gorgeous.’ He reached for her, capturing her lips briefly. ‘I missed you.’
‘It’s only been a couple of days, you soppy git.’ She grinned as he pulled out into the road. Chelsea paused, feeling like somehow she had to readjust her language to her life.
‘Soppy git indeed,’ he laughed, nodding. ‘I like that. It’s been a long couple of days. I haven’t even seen you since you got the promotion – congratulations, Miss Big Executive.’
‘Why thank you,’ she said, twisting her wrist in a royal impression, ‘and they rewarded me for all my hard work by making me take time off after getting a bigger workload – it’s nuts!’
Kit raised an eyebrow and pursed his lips as he tried to stop the smile on his face.
‘Baby, do you think maybe that’s because you refuse to take your holiday and the accounts team are getting pissed with you?’
‘But still!’ Chelsea huffed. ‘Making me take three weeks in one go! I’m going to be so behind!’
‘You’re probably already ahead into next year, knowing you.’ Kit shook his head, indicating. ‘Want to get some stuff from yours and come to mine?’
Chelsea shrugged. ‘I’ve got some stuff at yours, it’s not like I’ve got to be anywhere tomorrow.’
Kit