Good Me Bad Me(22)

‘All good, it was already unlocked so I got hold of a new SIM. Easy. Do you want it back?’

‘No, I’ve got a new one, you hang on to it.’

‘Are you sure?’

‘Yeah. I’ve got something else as well.’

I take the wrap I stole from Saskia’s purse out of my jeans pocket, hand it to her.

‘No way, where did you get it?’

‘Found it in my foster mum’s handbag.’

‘Jesus.’

I watch her unfold it crease by crease, until it lies open in her hand. She squats down, shields the contents, tells me she’s had it a couple of times before at parties on the estate. She uses her pinkie to scoop some of the white powder on to her finger, leans in, plugs one nostril, sniffs the drug up the other. She passes the wrap to me, lies down immediately, a starfish on concrete. When she closes her eyes I pretend to inhale some. I fold it back up, lie down next to her.

‘Fuck, that’s good,’ she says.

‘Yeah.’

‘So how’s life with blondie?’

‘I’m trying to stay out of her way.’

‘Wise move, I don’t reckon she’s got a nice bone in her body.’

‘Probably not.’

‘So why were you sneaking around your foster mum’s stuff anyway?’

‘Just bored I guess, she’s kind of easy to wind up as well.’

‘So you like winding people up then?’

‘Not really, I shouldn’t do it to her. I reckon she’s a bit scared of me.’

‘Scared of you? As if. What’s so scary about you?’

My past, is what’s scary.

‘Nothing. Here, have some more coke.’

Morgan’s question unsettles me, makes me think about what lives inside me and if it’s possible to outrun it. Traits buried deep in my DNA follow me. Haunt me.

She takes a line, jumps to her feet, asks me if I want to feel like I’m flying.

‘Come on, I’ll show you,’ she says.

We walk to the edge of the roof, the gap in the barrier, the wind stronger, the sky darker. She’s behind me, pushes me forward, close to the edge. Climb up, she says, on to the ledge. My body’s rigid, my legs won’t obey. It feels like a game I don’t want to play.

‘Go on, climb up, you won’t fall. I do it all the time. Spread your arms out like an eagle.’

‘No, it’s too windy.’

She calls me a wimp, moves forward and steps on to the ledge, takes a moment to steady herself before uncurling her body from crouching, stands up.

One wrong move.

And.

Something switches on in my body.

‘See,’ she says, laughing. ‘It’s not hard, not for some of us anyway.’

Your voice comes to me now, it’s angry, disappointed. SHE’S LAUGHING AT YOU, ANNIE, THAT’S NOT OKAY, FIND A WAY, MAKE HER PAY. No, I don’t want to. I want to walk away but instead I take a step closer to her. A current runs up and down my spine, so dead since I left you, I don’t know who I am. YES YOU DO, ANNIE, YOU DO KNOW, SHOW ME. I take another step, my arms stretch out so close to her, there on the edge, and maybe I would have, maybe I’m capable of it. Of worse. But she jumps down, turns to me, grinning, a chip in her front tooth. A powerful feeling of guilt when I look at her.

‘Chicken,’ she says. ‘What do you want to do now?’

‘I don’t mind.’

‘Let’s go back to the air vent, take some more coke.’

‘Okay.’

When we’re lying on the ground again I ask Morgan why she wanted to fly, why she wanted to be like an eagle.

‘To escape I suppose, go somewhere else.’

‘Somebody once told me a story about a girl who was so scared she prayed to be given the wings of an eagle.’

‘What was she scared of?’

The person who was telling her the story.

‘Something was chasing her but no matter how fast she ran, or how far she went, it was always right behind her.’

‘What was?’

‘A serpent. It would wait until the girl was tired out from running, wait until she’d fallen asleep, and then it would come.’

‘Is a serpent the same as a snake?’

‘Yes.’

‘Why was it after the girl?’

‘It wasn’t really a snake, it was just pretending to be one.’

‘What was it then?’

‘It was a person, letting the girl know if she ever tried to leave, it would come after her. Find her.’

‘How can a person turn into a snake?’

‘Sometimes people aren’t what they say they are.’

‘Does the girl get away?’

Not in the version you told me, Mummy.

‘I don’t know.’

‘Why?’

‘Because the girl disappeared and hasn’t been seen since, and neither has the snake.’

‘Do you think it’s still chasing her?’

‘Possibly.’

Probably.

‘I’m glad no snakes are after me.’

‘Yeah, lucky.’

‘Have you got loads of other stories?’

‘Yes.’