Read Online Scaredy cat by Mark Billingham - Free Book Online Page B

to go along with that. After all, the police had told their parents that it would be better for everybody if they were not allowed to be together. There had been talk of 'influence' and of 'geeing up'. He missed the excitement though, he missed the unpredictability, and he was delighted when Smart, once they'd started hanging around together again, told him that he'd missed it too. Plus, he always felt better about being around Karen, if Smart was close by.
    Karen was older than he was, closer to Smart's age, but Stuart couldn't make her laugh the way he could. He'd always been the one that got her giggling, ever since that day when she'd crawled through the hole in the fence and seen the business with the frog. There were times, when he saw the two of them whispering, or smoking, or watched them walking ahead of him along by the railway line, that he would start to feel like he shouldn't be there. Then Karen would stop and smile that smile at him and ask him to pull some stupid face, or put on a silly voice or something and he would soon have her in fits. Sometimes he thought that perhaps she was teasing him a little, but he didn't really mind. He could see how important he was to her, and to Stuart. He could see the three of them together, friends for good, the long grass of the railway embankment becoming the carefully tended lawn of a college quadrangle and the back garden of one of the big houses that each of them owned.., and finally, the rambling parkland of that Heath in London his mum had taken him to once, where the three of them would sit together on a park bench, with dogs, and perhaps children. Palmer knew, as much as he knew anything at barely fourteen, that he was in love.
    Karen stood up and looked around for a few seconds before half running, half-tumbling down the bank. She pretended that she was going to crash into Nicklin, and he pretended to be frightened. At the last minute, she jumped and Nicklin staggered back as he caught her, shouting and laughing, one hand holding tight to her arse. Palmer laughed too and swatting the swarm of gnats aside, followed them as they each lit a cigarette and began walking slowly towards the small group of blackened, broken-down railway buildings in the distance.
    Once inside the main building - a disused equipment shed - they did the usual quick sweep, searching for signs of habitation. Tramps slept here sometimes. The place still smelt of stale piss and strong lager. They'd found the remains of a fire a few times before now, and empty tins and syringes, and once, a used condom which Nicklin had picked up and chased Karen around with for a while. Today the place seemed even more deserted than usual. The usual fixtures and fittings. A mountain of fag ends, some old newspapers, a soggy, mouldering roll of carpet that had once been a dosser's bed. Huge bluebottles flew around their heads as Palmer threw stones at the remaining slivers of glass in the rotting window frames. Nicklin stubbed out his fag and looked around for something, anything, to spark him off, and Karen wandered around singing the latest Duran Duran single, her light, high voice echoing off the grimy Artex walls.
    'Let's go. Fuck-all in here.' Nicklin aimed a kick at an empty bottle. It skittered across the concrete floor and into the far wall where it smashed.
    Palmer cheered. 'We could start a fire or something...'
    'Let's all have a dump,' Karen said, ignoring him and leering at Nicklin. She began to laugh and Palmer turned away, blushing. He hated it when she talked like that. She would squat down in the long grass sometimes and he couldn't bear it.
    'Boring,' Nicklin said. 'Fucking eggs for lunch anyway. Couldn't squeeze one out even if I wanted to.' He lit another cigarette from a packet of ten Silk Cut. Karen took a loose one from the top pocket of her denim jacket and moved over to join him. She took the cigarette from Nicklin's mouth and used it to light her own.
    When Palmer turned round, Karen and