Jonah typed:
Sorry, I am OK but very busy so great if you could have boys for tea shall I send them over now from Lucy
He showed it to Raff, who studied it. ‘You don’t write “great” like that. It’s g, r and the number 8.’
Jonah made the change, and pressed Send. Raff whooped and started dancing.
‘Put your trainers back on, then. And take the lipstick off.’
‘The Martins don’t care about lipstick, fam!’
It was true. Saviour would laugh, and Dora would tell Raff how glamorous he looked. Watching Raff prancing, he imagined being with Saviour in the kitchen, helping him with the meal; Saviour glancing sideways at him, saying, ‘Penny for them.’ He wouldn’t answer, and Saviour’s brown eyes would get even kinder. ‘That bad, eh?’
‘Not that good,’ Jonah whispered to himself. ‘Lucy’s gone, and we haven’t got any food. But the thing is, I can’t tell you.’
The phone bleeped. Raff came running to read the reply. It was two words:
Fuck yourself.
‘Oh Em Gee!’ said Raff, his eyebrow shooting up. ‘Is it really Dora who wrote that? That is bad swearing, man!’
Jonah felt like crying. He lay down on the bed.
‘Is it because she’s going to die?’ Raff sat next to him.
Jonah pushed his face into Lucy’s pillow. Raff picked up the phone and started pushing buttons. After a few minutes he tapped Jonah’s shoulder.
‘Look.’
Jonah peered at the screen.
I am so soz. Please dont die xxx
‘Have you sent it?’
‘Yes.’
‘Idiot.’ Jonah put his face into the pillow again.
‘Why?’
‘People don’t say stuff like that.’
‘Yes they do!’ The phone bleeped. ‘Yesss!’
Jonah rolled over and watched him frowning at the screen.
‘“Want to see the boys. Tomorrow, not now.” Shit!’ Raff threw the phone onto the bed. Jonah reached for it.
Want to see the boys. Tomorrow not now. All too tired.
Em in bits.
‘But they’re having roast chicken! Let’s just go!’
‘We can’t,’ Jonah scrolled back to look at the old texts. The most recent had been sent on Sunday morning.
Tonight X
Not from Dora. From a number, not a name.
‘What are you doing now?’
‘Nothing.’
‘We need to do something, Peck!’ Raff’s fist bashed at his shoulder.
Jonah stood up, putting the phone into his pocket. ‘Calm down, Raff. Let’s go and have a look in the freezer.’
They found some ice cream in the freezer, and a pizza, which they cooked in the microwave, so it came out more like a Frisbee than a pizza. Jonah tried cutting into it and it splintered into bits. He chopped up the mango instead, which was difficult, and he cut his finger, and the blood mingled with the mango juice on the kitchen table. The mango was completely delicious, but they still felt hungry so they ate the ice cream, which was butterscotch. They ate it straight from the tub, and finished it, and then they felt sick and went and lay on the sofa in the sitting room. The cricket was finished so they watched the Tour de France, but Bradley Wiggins wasn’t in it, and it was hard to work out what was going on.
‘Where is she?’
‘I don’t know.’
Raff sighed. ‘She must be dead.’
‘Don’t say that, Raff. Of course she’s not dead.’
‘Dead, or a bad man’s got her. Otherwise she would of come back by now.’
Jonah felt in his pocket for her phone, and held it, feeling its solidness. ‘The thing is, she might come back at any minute.’
Raff got up and went and opened the front door, and looked left and right. Then he slumped down onto the doorstep. Jonah went and sat next to him. Shadows had started to fall across the road, and it felt quiet and sleepy. The sky was still very blue, and Jonah thought about the gods in Jason and the Argonauts again, looking down, deciding what would happen next. Then Alison, Greta and Mabel appeared, from the direction of the park. Alison was carrying a big bag with a towel trailing out of it, so they’d probably been to the paddling pool. They were all quite pink, and Greta and Mabel were arguing. Alison was telling them not to, but then she noticed the boys and shaded her eyes to look at them. Jonah waved, but Greta hit Mabel, who burst out crying, and Alison was distracted from waving back. They went into their house and the road was quiet again, and Jonah felt a deep sadness steal up on him.
‘Jonah.’ Raff’s voice was thoughtful, and he was sitting very still.
‘What?’
‘Why doesn’t Alison like us?’
‘Because she’s not a very nice person.’
‘Is it because of Angry Saturday?’
Jonah stared at Alison’s dark green shiny door. ‘I think she already didn’t like us. Or didn’t like Lucy.’ He was remembering long ago, the itch of his spots and Raff crying all the time, and Lucy crying too, though she’d tried to hide it. ‘Lucy invited them to tea once.’
‘Really?’ Raff sounded like he didn’t believe it.
‘We both had chicken pox and we couldn’t go out anywhere, and it was really boring, and Daddy said Mabel and Greta had already had chicken pox and to invite them all over.’ Roland was always telling her she should make more of an effort with people.
‘I don’t remember them coming to tea.’
‘You were just a toddler. And anyway, they didn’t.’
‘Why not?’
Jonah stared at the green door. It had been lovely weather and Raff had been crying and crying, and Lucy had seen Alison coming out of the Green Shop with the girls in their buggy, and had put Raff down and run and opened the front door. He closed his eyes, remembering Alison looking down at him, commenting on his spots, and saying they’d got that one over with a few months ago.
‘So you can come in for a coffee!’ Lucy had cried, but they were off to the park to meet up with some friends. ‘Pop in later, then! Come for tea! 5 p.m.!’ And Alison had replied, over her shoulder, that that would be lovely. Lucy had spent all day tidying up and had even managed to make a cake, in between walking Raff up and down.
‘Because of Angry Saturday?’
‘I already told you, Raff, it was before Angry Saturday.’
‘So why didn’t they, then?’
Jonah closed his eyes again. They hadn’t come at 5 p.m., and they’d waited and waited, and then they’d gone to sit on the step to look out for them. And when they did finally appear, with lots of other mums with buggies, and Lucy had stood up, Raff on her hip, waving and smiling, Alison had waved back – but then she’d opened her own front door and all the mums and buggies had gone inside and the door had shut. And Lucy had sat back down, staring,