AVON
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First published in Great Britain by HarperCollins Publishers 2008
Copyright © Helen Black 2008
Helen Black asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work
A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library
This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.
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Ebook edition © 2008 ISBN: 9780007328864
Version: 2017-06-26
Things, as Luke Walker’s mother is fond of saying, are getting out of hand.
The voices of his friends jar his ears as they stumble through some song by Lily Allen, clapping out of time, urging her on. Tom whoops with glee like a small child at Christmas, saliva dribbling down his chin. Charlie digs Luke in the ribs and shouts something in his ear but the words are lost in a fit of giggles.
The girl is in the middle of their ramshackle circle, her laughter almost hysterical. She says something none of them understand and spins round and round so that her skirt flares up and the boys can see her knickers.
Tom reaches out to touch her. ‘Yeah baby,’ he brays, but the momentum makes him lose his balance and he falls over, bringing Luke down with him.
Tom gropes the ground and swears.
Luke feels sick. He wants to go home. He would go home but he’s boarding tonight, and if the house master catches him in this state he’ll be in detention for a month.
And anyway, the field is spinning and he doesn’t think he can stand.
‘You like?’ the girl asks them.
The other two applaud but Luke can’t even nod his head. He doesn’t like, not at all.
That night had started the same as any other. With prep finished and Mr Philips dealing with one of the homesick new boys, Luke and his friends sneaked out of school to mooch around the village. They pledged how different their lives would be when they could drive.
Charlie’s the eldest and is getting lessons for his seventeenth, but that’s not for over two months.
Luke should be next, but every time he mentions it his mum gives him the look and talks about how many young people die in road accidents.
Tom is the youngest of the group but will probably still be first to pass his test. His dad already lets him drive an old Jeep across their land.
They wandered down to the off-licence. Luke didn’t know why they bothered because Mrs Singh knows they’re all from the boarding school and under age. Tom called her a ‘fucking Paki’ and knocked over a rack of crisps. Luke hates it when Tom does stuff like that.
They finally dragged Tom out with Mrs Singh threatening to call the police, and there was the girl, leaning against the Post Office window opposite. She was one of that lot from the hostel. You could tell by the way she dressed, the way she wore her hair. And she stood like they all do, hunched in on herself, as if trying to disappear.
‘Hey you,’ Tom shouted.
She looked startled at being spoken to and was about to move on when Tom dashed across the street and caught her arm.
‘Do you want to earn some money?’ he asked.
She didn’t answer, her face a blank canvas.
‘Money,’ he repeated, rubbing his thumb and forefinger together as if she were deaf or an imbecile. So they paid her five quid to get them some bottles of cider and headed to the park.
It was built for the local kids but they’re all at home on their Nintendos. Only the boarders use it when they manage to slip out of evening prep. It’s cold and deserted, but at least they can get pissed in peace.