The Dead Ex(18)

‘And you know you can’t keep coming into our room. I’ll tell on you. I’ve said it before.’

‘But you don’t mean it, do you, Angie? Cos you love it really.’

‘Fuck off.’

‘Maybe I will now someone else has just arrived.’

‘Her?’ The black-eyed girl was glaring at Scarlet. ‘Call that competition?’

‘You wasn’t much when we first …’

‘Shut up. Or I’ll smack your bleeding gob.’

‘All right, you lot.’ Mrs Walters was at the door. ‘Enough arguing. Off to bed.’

‘It’s only seven o’clock.’

‘You know the rules. We need time to ourselves.’

‘Excuse me.’ Scarlet put up her hand like she did at school and wanted to ask a question. ‘But I still haven’t got my pyjamas or toothbrush.’

‘Then you’ll have to sleep as you are, won’t you?’

What about the stuff Mrs Walters had promised to find?

‘And there’s a mug of shared toothbrushes in the bathroom; just help yourself.’

That wasn’t clean! Mum had always been very particular about the uncles ‘keeping their mitts’ off their pink ones.

‘You’ll be sleeping next to Dawn,’ Mrs W continued. ‘You’re lucky. I’ve found a mattress to put on the floor. Your toilet’s at the end of the corridor. Don’t use the one at the top of the stairs. It’s ours.’

‘That’s right,’ muttered the girl with black lines. ‘One for three of them. And one for nine of us. Ten now with you.’

‘It’s OK,’ said Scarlet. ‘I’m not going to be here for long. Just until they let my mum come home.’

‘That’s what they told me,’ said a girl with a turned-up nose, who seemed a lot nicer. ‘That was at Christmas.’

Christmas! That brought back happy memories. Last year she and Mum had played the ‘game’ next to Santa’s grotto inside the big shopping centre. Afterwards, because she’d been such a good girl, Mum had taken her to see him. He’d given her a necklace with pretty red-and-blue beads. She’d kept it under her pillow.

They were queuing up now to use the toilet. She could smell it from here. Ugh!

‘What’s school like?’ Scarlet asked her new friend, who turned out to be Dawn, the one she’d be sleeping near. (So pretty!)

She shrugged. ‘I don’t go that often.’

‘Why not?’

‘Don’t like it.’

‘Really?’

‘Who does?’

‘I do.’ Scarlet felt herself going red. ‘I love reading and writing stories and drawing pictures.’

‘Fucking hell. We’ve got a swot.’

It was the girl with black eyes. ‘I don’t know what your last school was like, but you won’t like this one. I give you that for nothing. Tell Mrs W you’ve got a stomach ache. Then you won’t have to get on the bus, and she’ll pretend she’s keeping you at home so she doesn’t get reported to Social Services. But as soon as the bus has gone, she’ll push you out of the house and tell you not to come back until four. Then you can do what you want.’

‘Won’t the teachers check?’

‘Depends. They can’t always keep up. If they do, you might have to go to class for a bit but then you can drop out again.’

‘I don’t want to do that.’

‘I don’t think you get it, Scarlet.’ The black eyes came closer. ‘It’s not what you want. It’s what we want you to do.’

‘That’s right.’ It was the ginger boy with a rash of red spots all over his chin and yellow bits on top. ‘If you want us to be nice, you’ve got to do exactly what we say. Just wait for the word. It might be tomorrow or next week or the week after that. We’ve got to make sure it’s safe first.’ He stepped towards her, looking mean.

What was he going to do? Sometimes when she got really frightened, she couldn’t help …

‘Shit.’ The black-eyed girl was pointing. ‘The new kid’s just pissed herself.’

Scarlet went red and hot. She wanted to run away and hide. Everyone was looking.

‘Baby, baby,’ chanted the boys.

Footsteps pounded up the stairs. ‘What the hell’s going on?’ demanded Mrs W. Her beady eyes took in the damp patch on the swirly red landing carpet.

‘I don’t believe it! They’ve only gone and sent me another bedwetter! That’s it. You’re out, my girl. First thing in the morning.’





Sometimes I’ll get a phone call from a husband who wants to buy a voucher for his loved one, to celebrate a special occasion. One man said his wife was ‘too shy for her own good’. So I treated her with eucalyptus for confidence and (because I hadn’t cared for the husband’s arrogant tone) I blended it with basil for ‘mental enthusiasm and concentration’. With any luck, that might sharpen her mind and get rid of him.

Yet physician heal thyself! I should have taken a dose of my own medicine when David cut our honeymoon short for ‘an important meeting’. Was Tanya there too? Bet she was. That woman deserves to be punished. And so does my ex.