drunk, and so on. It would be just as if nothing unusual had happened.
There was a tightness in her throat at the thought of Tommy and Leanne being together. Leanne wasn’t his kind of girl at all. Leanne was an identikit teenage girl, one of the many in school who looked similar, talked about the same things, wore the same clothes. Mandy couldn’t think of a single time that she’d said something interesting in class or socially. Leanne was pretty, and wore lots of make-up. Her clothes were tight and always showed the outline of her breasts and her slim hips. Leanne didn’t wear charity shop clothes and didn’t care about things like recycling. Whenever Mandy saw her in the toilets she was layering lipstick on her mouth and smacking her lips together, eyeing herself in the mirror to make sure she looked good.
Leanne was
not
the girl for Tommy, she thought miserably.
The whole of Sunday stretched ahead of her. How would she get through it?
She made a decision. She pulled her nightclothes off and put on her jeans and jumper. She slipped into her boots and got a jacket out. She picked up her phone and then left her room, creeping along the landing and tiptoeing quietly downstairs. There was no sound at all from her parents’ room. They were fast asleep. She picked up her key from the hall table and then unhooked the chain on the front door and opened it, turning the lock slowly. She stepped out into the early morning. The mist seemed as though it were clinging to the street lights. She had the key in the lock so that she could turn it as the door closed to avoid any noise. Once it was shut she stood there for a few moments, tensing herself in case a light at the top of the stairs flickered on and her mother came running down. The house remained silent, so she walked on up the street. As she went her eyes grew accustomed to the dark.
It took less than five minutes to get to Princess Street. The roads were hushed, with just a single cyclist in a fluorescent jacket. The newsagent’s was shut. She crossed over to the other side and soon saw the place where the house had been.
A car passed slowly behind her and its headlights lit up the area for a few seconds. The space between the buildings was wide and long. She could see how the owners had got permission for a block of apartments. There was a wire fence across the front and she walked up to it. She frowned when she saw that it’d been pulled away at the side, vandalised already. She stood staring through it and her eyes began to pick out shapes. Two huge trees towering at the back. It looked as though most of the garden had been flattened. Maybe it would become a car park for the tenants.
She looked at the place where the wire had been pulled away from the post. The very bottom of it had curled back on itself. Then she glanced up and down the road. The street lamps were yellow, the mist eddying round the light. A car passed by, slowing down to go over a hump. She wondered who was up so early on a Sunday morning.
She pulled at the loose wire. It came away up to her waist. Then she crouched down on her knees, edged through the gap and stood up quickly on the other side, brushing the dirt from her jeans. She walked over to the wall of one of the adjacent houses and then stood against it so that she wasn’t visible to anyone passing by. From where she was standing she could see the ground that had been under the house. There was a faint outline of bricks, as if someone had drawn a line round the outside wall of what had been the house. Inside the line there was some concrete and earth in places and some slabs of stone sticking up. The area at the back, which had once been the garden, was mostly dug over and looked soft and mulchy. The brick sheds at the back were gone and just the two trees were left standing, looking lonely and out of place.
She edged along the wall until she came to the end of the neighbouring house. The garden fence was
There was a tightness in her throat at the thought of Tommy and Leanne being together. Leanne wasn’t his kind of girl at all. Leanne was an identikit teenage girl, one of the many in school who looked similar, talked about the same things, wore the same clothes. Mandy couldn’t think of a single time that she’d said something interesting in class or socially. Leanne was pretty, and wore lots of make-up. Her clothes were tight and always showed the outline of her breasts and her slim hips. Leanne didn’t wear charity shop clothes and didn’t care about things like recycling. Whenever Mandy saw her in the toilets she was layering lipstick on her mouth and smacking her lips together, eyeing herself in the mirror to make sure she looked good.
Leanne was
not
the girl for Tommy, she thought miserably.
The whole of Sunday stretched ahead of her. How would she get through it?
She made a decision. She pulled her nightclothes off and put on her jeans and jumper. She slipped into her boots and got a jacket out. She picked up her phone and then left her room, creeping along the landing and tiptoeing quietly downstairs. There was no sound at all from her parents’ room. They were fast asleep. She picked up her key from the hall table and then unhooked the chain on the front door and opened it, turning the lock slowly. She stepped out into the early morning. The mist seemed as though it were clinging to the street lights. She had the key in the lock so that she could turn it as the door closed to avoid any noise. Once it was shut she stood there for a few moments, tensing herself in case a light at the top of the stairs flickered on and her mother came running down. The house remained silent, so she walked on up the street. As she went her eyes grew accustomed to the dark.
It took less than five minutes to get to Princess Street. The roads were hushed, with just a single cyclist in a fluorescent jacket. The newsagent’s was shut. She crossed over to the other side and soon saw the place where the house had been.
A car passed slowly behind her and its headlights lit up the area for a few seconds. The space between the buildings was wide and long. She could see how the owners had got permission for a block of apartments. There was a wire fence across the front and she walked up to it. She frowned when she saw that it’d been pulled away at the side, vandalised already. She stood staring through it and her eyes began to pick out shapes. Two huge trees towering at the back. It looked as though most of the garden had been flattened. Maybe it would become a car park for the tenants.
She looked at the place where the wire had been pulled away from the post. The very bottom of it had curled back on itself. Then she glanced up and down the road. The street lamps were yellow, the mist eddying round the light. A car passed by, slowing down to go over a hump. She wondered who was up so early on a Sunday morning.
She pulled at the loose wire. It came away up to her waist. Then she crouched down on her knees, edged through the gap and stood up quickly on the other side, brushing the dirt from her jeans. She walked over to the wall of one of the adjacent houses and then stood against it so that she wasn’t visible to anyone passing by. From where she was standing she could see the ground that had been under the house. There was a faint outline of bricks, as if someone had drawn a line round the outside wall of what had been the house. Inside the line there was some concrete and earth in places and some slabs of stone sticking up. The area at the back, which had once been the garden, was mostly dug over and looked soft and mulchy. The brick sheds at the back were gone and just the two trees were left standing, looking lonely and out of place.
She edged along the wall until she came to the end of the neighbouring house. The garden fence was
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