I Was Born for This(87)

‘I don’t have it! I bet you fifty thousand pounds she has it.’ He points aggressively at Angel, who is also in the hallway, and then at her friend Juliet. ‘Or her fan friend.’

Angel lets out a hysterical laugh, which probably doesn’t help their cause.

Rowan starts laughing too and walks towards the front door. ‘Look, I’m leaving—’

‘No.’ I grab his arm, pulling him back from the door. ‘Don’t fucking do this to me. Just give it back.’

He yanks his arm back. ‘Do what? What could I possibly do to you that’s worse than what you’re doing to me?’

‘Boys, come on,’ Grandad barks. He looks at Rowan. ‘Come on, Rowan, just give him the knife back.’

‘I don’t have it!’

To my side, Angel’s friend Juliet murmurs, ‘Angel … do you have it?’

‘What?’ Angel practically shrieks. ‘I’d never steal something of Jimmy’s, oh my God!’

Angel wouldn’t have it. She’s the only one who’s been helping me. If she’d wanted to take it, she wouldn’t have given it back to me yesterday.

‘But … you’ve … I mean, you’ve been acting kind of weird, generally …’ Juliet doesn’t say any more. Angel blinks several times, and then just turns round and goes back into the kitchen.

‘You can’t leave,’ I say to Rowan.

Rowan sighs. ‘I bet you just fucking lost it, or something.’

‘Why don’t you just admit that you have it?’

‘Come on, Rowan,’ says Bliss, giving Rowan a pointed look. ‘Just give it back to him.’

‘I literally don’t have it!’

‘Right.’ Grandad pulls Rowan by the shoulder and shoves him into the lounge, then he grabs me and pushes me into the kitchen. ‘No one’s going anywhere until this is resolved. Anyone can come forward and give me the bloody thing any time. No questions asked.’ He lets out a harsh breath. ‘It was my father’s and I don’t want anyone to take it either.’

I sit down heavily into a kitchen chair. Angel is already there at the table, and she looks up at me.

You don’t have it, do you? I ask her with my eyes.

She shakes her head at me.

I decide to get some air. The house has been getting really hot and stuffy with so many people inside and waves of panic were starting to flow over me. I step out into the back garden and trudge through the wet grass, breathing in the fresh air. The rain hasn’t stopped all day. I wonder whether the river has burst its banks.

My clothes are getting gradually wetter and wetter, my T-shirt changing from light grey to dark.

Are we all going to be trapped here forever, kept still by indecision?

No one doing exactly what they want?

Wouldn’t be much different to being back in the band, would it.

As I wander down the garden, a figure appears from behind a bush. I have to squint through the rain to identify them – it’s Lister, a lit cigarette in his mouth, sitting down on a bench that looks out over the woodland and countryside.

‘Hey,’ I say, and he flinches at the sound of my voice, then laughs when he sees me.

‘Didn’t hear you coming,’ he says, and takes a drag from his cigarette.

‘You shouldn’t smoke,’ I say. ‘You’ll die.’

‘We’re all dying.’

‘How pretentious.’

‘I don’t want to grow old, anyway.’ Lister takes another drag. ‘Seems boring. I’ve lived enough, thanks. I want my rest.’

His voice is slurring slightly. He has an empty glass in one hand.

‘Calm down,’ I say. ‘You’re only nineteen. Not dead yet.’

‘Nineteen years too old.’

I laugh at him but can’t help hearing the slight sincerity in his voice.

‘What’s going on?’ asks Lister. ‘What’s going to happen?’

I can’t answer him. And then he presses his cigarette out on the bench, puts it into his glass, and turns to me. For a moment I think he might want to kiss me again, but instead he just presses his head into the crook of my neck, nestling his cheek on my shoulder, and wraps his arms round my shoulders. He smells vaguely smoky, and a little of alcohol, but he feels so warm.

‘I want to change too,’ he says. A raindrop falls from his hair and lands on my leg. ‘When I come back in my next life, I’m going to be a normal person, with a normal job. Nobody will know who I am.’

Is that a good alternative? I don’t know.

‘Jimmy …’ he says, ‘I’m sorry …’

I rub his arm. ‘What are you sorry for?’

‘I …’ He hides his eyes. ‘I took the photo.’

‘What photo?’

‘The Jowan photo. From Tuesday.’

My stomach drops. It takes a moment for it to sink in.

Lister’s voice gets wobbly. ‘I … I genuinely didn’t think it was me, but … then I found it in my phone … and I remembered …’

I can’t even speak.

He sits up. ‘Look, Jimmy, I … it was months ago. The … the Jowan shipping thing, the fans, it was really getting to me.’ His eyes fill with tears. ‘The fact that they all wanted you and Rowan to … to be in love or whatever. It messed me up. It made me feel like I’d never have a chance with you because the fans would be so … so angry …’