AllFreeNovel
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I get to the edge of the woods in a couple of minutes, there’s literally not much of use at all. The only thing would be to cut branches off the trees. As in I’d need an axe that I’d be crap at using. I sit down on a tree stump, hopelessly searching for my next move. I remember the bit of draw in my pocket. I should have bought some tobacco.
Aiden emerges from behind a large holly bush, carrying a bit of tatty plastic sheeting.
‘How’s it going with the shelter?’ he smirks.
‘There’s not a lot of spare wood around.’ I point to the pathetic pile of twigs I’ve gathered. ‘Wouldn’t shelter a fairy.’
‘Aye, you’ll maybe want to use this.’ He hands me the plastic. It’s a faded orange colour, a good few square metres.
‘You reckon?’ I smile. ‘That’ll do nicely.’
Aiden nods, shuffles his foot. He seems awkward rather than hostile now and I am genuinely touched that he thought to help me.
‘I’ve got a bit of draw here, if you’ve any baccy?’
Aiden pulls out a battered Drum tobacco pouch, perches on the tree stump next to me. ‘Go on then, I’ll roll us a smoke,’ he says, producing a limp looking pack of Rizlas. He sticks them together, then takes a ready-made dog-end and empties it into the paper. Looks up at me, like he’s expecting me to be shocked. Which of course I am, well, not shocked, but surprised, yeah?
‘Not too proud for someone else’s tab?’ He takes the grass and tips the whole lot into the spliff. Looks at me as if he dares me to say anything.
Fucking hell, it’s literally the best part of a ten bag. Just because he gave me a shitty piece of plastic. But I’m not going to risk getting him riled up.
‘We’ll go into town later, get you a sleeping bag,’ he says, licking up the spliff. He produces an old Zippo lighter and lights up, leaning back as he takes a big toke. He exhales a massive cloud looking up at the sky, then nods and takes another, leaving me to wonder about the sleeping bag.
By the time we get back to the fire I’m like totally trashed. Fucking three tokes were enough for me. I thought I was a hardened pothead, but I’m a complete wuss compared to the malnourished waif Aiden. He goes off to find me some string for my shelter while I stand gawping at the trees, concentrating on staying upright. As if I need a fucking whitey now? I take deep breaths of the dank smoky air, wondering if there’s any chance of a drink of water around here. Skunky’s back onto tormenting Pauol. I don’t want to draw attention to myself.
Someone crashes through the woods on the other side of the fire. She emerges pushing a supermarket trolley rattling with empty cans. A tiny woman in a sleeveless leather jerkin and snake tattooed arms. Spikey dark hair and a heart shaped face. Her skin is verging on yellow and it’s hard to tell how old she is. She stops by the fire, kicking at the dirt, non-stop cursing from her rosebud mouth.
‘Fucking wanking social shirkers can’t even let you fucking alone when they’ve taken your fucking daughter, fucking five years fucking old and you can’t even fucking escape them from fucking Coatbridge to fucking Inverness, the cunts.’
She catches my eye for a second and I see a flash of Emily in her. Something about the shape of her face? Her manic gestures?
‘Awright, Minx. Calm yourself lassie, what’s going on?’ Skunky shifts to face her.
‘Come all this way, don’t I, to make a new fucking start and that. Off the fucking booze, fucking AA, getting by collecting me cans.’
‘Aye, you’re doing OK,’ Skunky says.
‘Wanking social worker on her hols with her bastard girlfriend and their bairn. Dirty lessies are allowed a bairn. There on fucking King Street fucking shouting her head off at the laddie for no fucking reason. Catch me fucking bawling at my daughter like that? I get fucking done for fucking neglect and there she fucking is. Fuck her. Fuck.’
Minx bangs her fists against her thighs with every ‘fuck’ – so wired it’s like she’ll snap in two. Paoul walks away but nothing fazes Mustafa who stays put on his oil drum. I move to lean against a tree out of the wood-smoke, feel dizzy and sick and cut up by the weirdest ever notion that this exploding bomb is Emily in a parallel universe.
‘Wissht, now, Minxy. Getting yourself all of a lather. Have yourself a sup of this, just this once, to calm you, hen.’ Skunky pulls himself up and hands her his bottle.
Minx stares at the label, tilting it as if to drink. Then with a flick of her wrist she slings the bottle onto the fire. The plastic melts and the cider hisses in a cloud of noxious smoke. Skunky backs away cursing, trips on his car-seat and lands on his knees. Minx stands with shoulders tensed, teeth gritted, hands clenched.
‘Fuck you, fuck you all.’ She roars before turning and rattling her trolley back through the woods.
I take my plastic sheeting to a group of silver birches away from the fire. The smoke’s still billowing, and I throw myself down on the sheeting to get under the path of the fumes. Fucking midges aren’t put off though, biting my neck, side of my face, pretty much everywhere they can. I pull my hoodie up, tug my sleeves over my hands and lie with as little of my face exposed as possible. Was there ever a time I felt worse than this? These people are fucking out there, man.
I can’t breathe with my face pressed against the plastic, plus the sounds of Skunky’s complaining and twigs cracking as people move about make my heart pound with fear when I can’t see them. I shift to rest my head on my folded arms, look up to see Mustafa standing right there on the edge of my plastic, holding his knife and his carved stick.
I let out a yelp and jolt back with the shock. Freeze on all fours, mouth dry, literally not daring to breathe. Images of drug crazed African militiamen out to scalp the nearest tourist. My eyes dart as he drops his wood and reaches for his pocket. See Aiden approaching with a reel of rope draped around his neck as Mustafa pulls out something metallic.
I gasp as he leans towards me holding out the object. It’s one of those like army surplus aluminium water bottles. He shakes it in my face, and I take hold of it, feel the metal cool on my palm. I sit back on my heels, unscrew the top, look at him again.
‘Water?’ I say.
He stands blank faced, so I risk a sip. Slight metallic tinge, but it pretty much tastes like water. I moisten my lips, take another longer gulp. Never have I so valued water.
