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Authors: Kevin Brooks
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parents.’
‘What about them?’
‘Well, they might be . . . I mean, if they’re very traditional, you know, they might . . .’
‘Travis?’ Courtney said impatiently, staring at me with her hands on her hips. ‘Just spit it out, OK?’
I sighed, bracing myself for her reaction. ‘They might not like the way you’re dressed.’
A flash of anger crossed her eyes, and just for a second I thought she was going to start yelling at me, but it only took her a moment to realise that I had a point. The Kamals weren’t
necessarily Muslim, but there was a fairly good chance they were. And if they were very traditional Muslims, and we wanted to talk to them in their home, it probably wasn’t a good idea for
Courtney to turn up looking like a dancer in a rap video.
‘I’ll get changed before we go,’ she said.
15
Courtney didn’t say a word as we left her house and drove off towards Beacon Fields. She’d changed her clothes and was now wearing a short brown jacket with a brown
knee-length skirt and a stuffy-looking light-grey blouse. Her hair was neatly tied back in a ponytail, and she’d even toned down her usually over-the-top make-up. She looked like a different
person. And it was quite obvious that she hated it.
I resisted the temptation to say anything for as long as I could, but as we swung round the roundabout at the bottom of Magdalen Hill, I couldn’t hold back any longer.
‘You look really smart,’ I told her.
‘Shut up, Travis,’ she said, not amused.
‘No, really,’ I went on. ‘It suits you. You should dress like that more often.’
‘You’re not funny, you know.’
I smiled. ‘You should have worn a pair of glasses too. You know, those smart designer frames they’re all wearing these days. They’d look
really
good on you.’
‘Do you want to walk the rest of the way?’ she said, slowing the car.
‘All right,’ I said, holding up my hands. ‘I won’t say anything else, I promise.’
As she speeded up again, I could see her trying to hide a smile.
I kept quiet for a while then, just looking out of the window at the passing streets, letting random thoughts float around in my head. It was a pleasant afternoon now. The heaviness and humidity
had lifted, the air was clear, and the sky was bright with a pale summer sun. It felt really nice for a minute or two – driving along in the afternoon sunshine, the windows open, the summer
streets busy with traffic – but after a while all I could feel was a big hole in my heart where Mum and Dad should have been. I wanted to be in a car with them, enjoying the sunshine with
them, going somewhere nice with them. I wanted to
be
with them. I wanted them more than anything else in the world. But they were gone. And there was nothing I could do to bring them
back.
Nothing.
The sun would never shine on them again.
‘Are you all right, Travis?’ Courtney asked quietly.
‘I can’t stop thinking about Mum and Dad.’
She glanced at me, looking concerned. ‘Maybe we’d better leave this for now. We can always—’
‘No, it’s all right,’ I said. ‘I’d rather be doing something than just sitting around at home, you know?’
‘Sure?’
‘Yeah.’
‘OK.’
I looked out of the window again. We were heading along Slade Lane now, about a kilometre or so from Beacon Fields. In the distance up ahead, I could see the grey houses of the estate shimmering
in a haze of heat.
‘I’d better use the sat nav when we get to the estate,’ Courtney said, reaching up to turn it on. ‘Driving around Beacon Fields is a nightmare. What’s the address
again?’
I looked in the file. ‘42 Roman Way.’
As she keyed it into the sat nav, a memory of Mum and Dad flashed into my mind. It was the day of the car crash. Dad was getting out of his car with his sat nav in his hand, and Mum was saying
to him, ‘I’m not having that thing in my car.’
‘We’re driving into the middle of London,’ Dad had said. ‘You know what
‘What about them?’
‘Well, they might be . . . I mean, if they’re very traditional, you know, they might . . .’
‘Travis?’ Courtney said impatiently, staring at me with her hands on her hips. ‘Just spit it out, OK?’
I sighed, bracing myself for her reaction. ‘They might not like the way you’re dressed.’
A flash of anger crossed her eyes, and just for a second I thought she was going to start yelling at me, but it only took her a moment to realise that I had a point. The Kamals weren’t
necessarily Muslim, but there was a fairly good chance they were. And if they were very traditional Muslims, and we wanted to talk to them in their home, it probably wasn’t a good idea for
Courtney to turn up looking like a dancer in a rap video.
‘I’ll get changed before we go,’ she said.
15
Courtney didn’t say a word as we left her house and drove off towards Beacon Fields. She’d changed her clothes and was now wearing a short brown jacket with a brown
knee-length skirt and a stuffy-looking light-grey blouse. Her hair was neatly tied back in a ponytail, and she’d even toned down her usually over-the-top make-up. She looked like a different
person. And it was quite obvious that she hated it.
I resisted the temptation to say anything for as long as I could, but as we swung round the roundabout at the bottom of Magdalen Hill, I couldn’t hold back any longer.
‘You look really smart,’ I told her.
‘Shut up, Travis,’ she said, not amused.
‘No, really,’ I went on. ‘It suits you. You should dress like that more often.’
‘You’re not funny, you know.’
I smiled. ‘You should have worn a pair of glasses too. You know, those smart designer frames they’re all wearing these days. They’d look
really
good on you.’
‘Do you want to walk the rest of the way?’ she said, slowing the car.
‘All right,’ I said, holding up my hands. ‘I won’t say anything else, I promise.’
As she speeded up again, I could see her trying to hide a smile.
I kept quiet for a while then, just looking out of the window at the passing streets, letting random thoughts float around in my head. It was a pleasant afternoon now. The heaviness and humidity
had lifted, the air was clear, and the sky was bright with a pale summer sun. It felt really nice for a minute or two – driving along in the afternoon sunshine, the windows open, the summer
streets busy with traffic – but after a while all I could feel was a big hole in my heart where Mum and Dad should have been. I wanted to be in a car with them, enjoying the sunshine with
them, going somewhere nice with them. I wanted to
be
with them. I wanted them more than anything else in the world. But they were gone. And there was nothing I could do to bring them
back.
Nothing.
The sun would never shine on them again.
‘Are you all right, Travis?’ Courtney asked quietly.
‘I can’t stop thinking about Mum and Dad.’
She glanced at me, looking concerned. ‘Maybe we’d better leave this for now. We can always—’
‘No, it’s all right,’ I said. ‘I’d rather be doing something than just sitting around at home, you know?’
‘Sure?’
‘Yeah.’
‘OK.’
I looked out of the window again. We were heading along Slade Lane now, about a kilometre or so from Beacon Fields. In the distance up ahead, I could see the grey houses of the estate shimmering
in a haze of heat.
‘I’d better use the sat nav when we get to the estate,’ Courtney said, reaching up to turn it on. ‘Driving around Beacon Fields is a nightmare. What’s the address
again?’
I looked in the file. ‘42 Roman Way.’
As she keyed it into the sat nav, a memory of Mum and Dad flashed into my mind. It was the day of the car crash. Dad was getting out of his car with his sat nav in his hand, and Mum was saying
to him, ‘I’m not having that thing in my car.’
‘We’re driving into the middle of London,’ Dad had said. ‘You know what
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