The Nothing Girl Part 10

Russell made him walk in front of us. We walked along behind and Thomas brought up the rear. I said to Thomas, 'Whats the box for?

'He sleeps on it. The ground can be very cold and wet.

'Oh.

'And he needs to hang on to it in case it gets pinched.

'By whom?

'Other people on the streets, or those who regard the homeless as legitimate sport.

'Oh.

'For some people, the world is sometimes not a very nice place.

Russell made him sit in the back and promise to behave. He nodded, still clutching his bed and bag.

We achieved escape velocity, hurtled round the Whittington roundabout, and sling-shotted to Frogmorton. When Russell opened up the back he was sprawled on the floor.

'Oh, sorry, mate.

He scrambled out and stood looking around him. The light was still on in the kitchen.

'Come on, said Russell, and we all trailed after him.

Mrs Crisp was in her dressing gown making cocoa.

'There you are, just in time. Would you like some cocoa? She broke off as she got a good look at the guest. 'Whos this?

'Thats a point, said Russell. 'Who are you?

'Kevin.

We waited, but there was no more.

'Just Kevin?

He nodded, defiantly.

'Police looking for you, Kevin?

Mrs Crisp pulled the neck of her dressing gown closer and looked round for a rolling pin. Or possible a steak hammer.

He shook his head.

'Anyone looking for you?

Even I could feel the sudden sadness. 'No, no one.

'No parents?

He stared at his feet. 'No.

'How old are you?

'I was eighteen last week.

I felt so sorry for him. Other teenagers have parents who throw parties for their kids eighteenth. Or mark it with a special gift or a trip of some kind. Even Id got a laptop. This kid had spent his eighteenth birthday on a wet pavement getting kicked and p.i.s.sed on.

Mrs Crisp bustled forward. 'Thats enough. Can someone please organise him a good hot bath and a change of clothes? She glared at Russell until he got the message.

'Right, this way, Kevin. They disappeared into the house. I could hear them climbing the stairs. Mrs Crisp went to the fridge and started pulling out eggs, bacon, tomatoes all the makings of a good breakfast.

Not wanting to intrude, I said shyly, 'Can I help?

'Yes, of course. Thank you. Perhaps youd like to make the toast. Lots of it, I think, and plenty of b.u.t.ter.

I found the toaster and bread and set to, carefully b.u.t.tering the toast and stacking it over the range to keep warm. I found the marmalade, and under Mrs Crisps instructions, laid the table. Thomas took himself into the corner out of the way.

About twenty minutes later they were back. Kevin wore an old black jogging suit with the cuffs turned back and the legs pooling around his ankles. His hair was wet and a surprising dark blond colour. The downside was that without the protective covering of dirt, the bruises were much more visible. Hed had more than a bit of a kicking.

'There you are. Come and sit down. She pulled out a chair for him and, as he sat, laid a heaped plate in front of him. 'Eggs, bacon, hash browns, tomatoes, mushrooms, and theres plenty of toast and marmalade. Dig in.

He did. It was a kind of feeding frenzy.

'Slow down, said Russell, not unkindly, 'or itll all come back up again. Ill admit its good value to see your food go by more than once, but in this instance, its a bit of a waste. No ones going to take it away from you so just slow down a bit.

Kevin nodded, broke off to gulp down some tea, took a deep breath, and made an effort at table manners.

Russell, obviously feeling his guest eat shouldnt eat alone, made himself a bacon sandwich and tucked in as well. I had a piece of toast and marmalade and Mrs Crisp got up and came back with a lemon drizzle cake and we all had a piece of that too.

'So, Kevin, said Russell. 'Whats your story then?

It was more a question and answer session than a coherent narrative and he stopped for tea and another piece of cake. It all boiled down to a familiar and sad story. His father left. His mother, desperate for money and obviously feeling that any man was better than no man at all, took up with a man she probably wouldnt have looked at before. It was made clear to Kevin that he was no longer welcome in his own home. Reading between the lines, his mother never lifted a finger to save him. Only seventeen and with poor exam results, hed been unable to find work. He spent a little time staying with friends, but that petered out. Unable to get a job, he couldnt find anywhere to live and, unable to provide an address, he couldnt get a job. This was his first winter on the streets. Even after the bath, he still looked grubby. The dirt was more than skin deep. He looked exhausted, desperate, lonely, and deeply afraid. He kept looking around the kitchen, half afraid to stay and very afraid to leave. I wondered what Russell would do.

Obviously the bacon sandwich had lubricated his brain cells. 'We can offer you a room for the night, he said. 'Its not very much but its dry and warm. Mrs Crisp will look you out some blankets. Youve already got towels. Well give you breakfast tomorrow and then have a bit of a chat. There is a lock on the door if you want to use it.

The poor lad was suddenly shattered. After nights without proper sleep and then a big meal on an empty stomach, he could hardly keep his eyes open. He did, however, remember to thank Mrs Crisp for the meal. Underneath the worlds most inefficient mugger was a nice boy.

We gathered up various bits and pieces and made our way to the stable block on the other side of the yard. Russell led the way, so when he stopped dead, I walked into him and Kevin walked into me. Thomas neatly sidestepped all of us.

'Ive just thought, do you smoke?

'No.

'You sure? Its not a problem if you do, it just means Ill put you in another room, but I need to know if you smoke.

He shook his head. 'No. Never tried and now I cant afford it.

'OK, then.

He opened the door to the stable block. In his big box at the end, Boxer stirred and stuck a sleepy but curious head out to look.

'Oh, neat. A horse.

Kevin dropped everything onto the tack table and went off to look. Boxer lowered his head and sniffed.

'Good job hes had a bath, muttered Thomas. 'You have no idea how snooty ex-racehorses can be.

'Wow, this is really cool. Whats his name?

'Boxer.

He reached a tentative hand and Boxer deigned to have his nose gently stroked.

Russell looked at me and wiggled his eyebrows. I had no idea what he was trying to say.

'Come on, Kevin. This way.

We climbed a rickety stair and he opened a door at the top and switched on a light. This must, once upon a time, have been the old feed store. It still retained a certain atmosphere, but being made of wood, it was warm.

'You can sleep here tonight. Theres a sleeping bag and a couple of extra blankets. Jenny has the pillows. Im sorry theres no bathroom. If you get caught short nip downstairs and pee in one of the buckets. You can blame it on Boxer.

He smiled, but it was a poor effort.

'Dont rush to get up in the morning. Come over when youre ready. You can use the bathroom and well give you breakfast.

He stopped.

Kevin was looking at him. I could see him thinking then what?

I was wondering that myself.

'OK, got everything you need?

He was unpacking his sad little carrier bag. There were a couple of grimy T-s.h.i.+rts which he carefully spread out to dry, three socks (hes a man, they can only do socks in odd numbers) and a battered Harry Potter with an old photo being used as a book mark. He put this on the floor and stood politely, waiting for us to go.

Russell seemed to be in another world again, so I pulled his sleeve.

'Oh, right. Good night then.

As we crossed the yard, I said, 'Russell, hes sleeping in an outbuilding on ... the floor.

'Hes dry, warm, fed, and safe. Its the best thing thats happened to him in weeks.

'What about tomorrow?

'Dont know, Jenny. Ill have to think about it. Ill drive you home.

I was glad to go. I was tired too.

It was well past midnight when we got back. I fumbled anxiously for my key. Russell walked with me to the door. Various lights came on as we walked up the path. Russell stopped and looked around us but said nothing.

I was too tired to ask.

Finally, he said in a whisper, 'Its very neat, isnt it?

I looked around with new eyes. After the shabby cheerfulness of Frogmorton, I suppose it was. Uncle Richard and Aunt Julia lived in a solid, respectable, detached house on the solid and respectable side of town and their property was immaculate. The extensive gardens, front and back, belonged to the conifer and heather style of horticulture, which means they required minimum maintenance, were always neat and looked exactly the same during all the seasons of the year dull.

We tiptoed up the path and Russell opened the door for me. 'Goodnight, future wife, and before I had time to worry about goodnight kisses, and with the unerring sense of timing that all men responsible for unwed females seem instinctively to possess, Uncle Richard appeared. He wore pyjamas and dressing gown and carried the local newspaper. He said nothing at all in a very meaningful way, but Russell remained unabashed.

'Good evening, Richard. Where was I? Oh, yes. Jenny, Ill pick you up at ten tomorrow. Dont be late lots to do, people to see and so on. Sleep well. He gave me an affectionate clap on the shoulder that made me stagger slightly and disappeared back down the path. I watched the lights flash on and off, marking his progress. His Land Rover started with a clatter and roared away into the night, leaving a sudden velvet silence.

Uncle Richard held the door for me. I remembered to keep the key.

'Uncle Richard, you didnt have to ... wait up for me, I said, feeling very guilty because if we hadnt been feeding and housing a potential member of the criminal cla.s.ses then I would have been home hours ago. Some instinct warned me not to mention Kevin.

He smiled slightly. 'I think youll find that waiting up for young female members of his family is in every fathers and every uncles job description. Come into the kitchen a minute, please. Ive left the milk on.

I sat at the table while he poured himself a cup of hot milk. I shook my head when he offered me some. It was a kind gesture and now didnt seem to be the time to point out Id lived here for twenty years and he still didnt know I hated milk.

He sat himself down opposite me.

Thomas yawned. 'Are we ever going to get to bed?

'Shh, I said, because if Uncle Richard stirred his milk any more hed go through the bottom of the cup. (There are no mugs in Aunt Julias house.) Clearly, he had something to say.

'She has your best interests at heart, you know, he began, finally laying the spoon down in the saucer.

In the quiet kitchen I could hear the pipes ticking as the heating system shut down for the night and the house bedded itself down.

I nodded.

'You must see that this has come as a tremendous shock to us. Especially since its that man ...

'Good old Russell Checkland. Causing trouble in the Kingdom household since he could walk.

I nodded.

'I want to ask you, quietly and away from any upsetting moments I have to ask Jenny, is he putting any sort of pressure on you to marry him? You can tell me.

I shook my head.

He looked down again. 'Are you pregnant?

Another head shake.

'Are you doing this of your own free will?