‘He popped out the back of school to get some fish and chips from Stratees.’ Ayo frowns. ‘Why?’
‘That’s my business.’ As I turn to head out of the food hall, my phone rings. I wouldn’t bother answering it but it’s Mum. She hardly ever phones me so, in spite of myself, I take the call.
‘You’re welcome!’ Ayo calls after me.
‘Hello?’
‘Libby, I need you to do something for me.’
‘What?’ I ask.
‘There’s a journalist who wants to do a story on me and my career, but he asked to interview you too. His story has to be filed this afternoon if it’s going to make this month’s edition of the magazine. He’s waiting at the school’s back gate to interview you. Could you do this for me, please? It’ll only take a couple of minutes.’
Are you kidding? ‘No way. Mum, I’m at school.’
‘Yes, I know. I told him that. He was happy to go to you so I gave him the school’s address. He really needs to see you now or the story won’t happen, and I need the money and the publicity. Please just do this for me and I’ll never ask you to do anything like this again.’
An interview with a journalist who’ll probably want to know all kinds of family details? Stuff I’d rather keep private? No thanks. ‘I’m sorry, Mum, but he’ll have to write his article without me.’
‘Libby, please. Do this and I’ll help you get in touch with your dad. In fact, I’ll personally take you to see him. Deal?’
I sigh inwardly, calling myself all kinds of a fool, but Mum is holding out a carrot too tantalizing to ignore. ‘Two minutes, Mum. That’s all. I mean it.’
‘Honestly, that’s all he’ll need. He’s at the gate now. Thanks, Libby,’ she says, and she hangs up.
I shake my head. How stupid am I? I should just tell Mum and this journalist where to go, but I’m heading that way anyway. Lips pursed, I promise myself that this journalist is going to get the equivalent of name, rank and serial number – and not much else. Then Troy and I are going to have a conversation, no matter how painful.
thirty. Troy
* * *
We aren’t supposed to leave the school grounds at lunchtime, but I really need to get away from the looks and whispered comments that have followed me since the debate. Libby is just lucky I didn’t come across her on my way out of school. She and I have unfinished business. I decided some haddock and chips from Stratees, the fish-and-chip shop at the bottom of the road, would improve my mood. Anything was better than the cold five-bean pasta mess that was the only thing left in the food hall by the time I got there. That five-bean pasta looked like it’d be great for filling potholes and not much else.
I still can’t believe Libby used my private family business to further her campaign. What am I talking about? Of course I believe it. Knowing her, I should’ve expected it. Total bitch!
I head for the school side gate over by the tennis courts. The weather is distinctly chilly with grey-white clouds lining and redefining the sky. Five minutes to the end of the residential, tree-lined road, two minutes in the fish-and-chip shop, five minutes back to school and none of the teachers will be any the wiser. What I’m doing is against school rules, but at this moment in time I don’t particularly care. Ayo offered to come with me, but I’m not in the mood for company.
I enter the shop, buy my meal, head back to school. Callie’s warning plays in my head as I walk. On the opposite side of the road, a Cross woman walks her dog. She doesn’t even glance in my direction as we pass each other. I sigh. I can’t let my sister make me paranoid. Callie is definitely overreacting to a few stupid threats. And, besides, threatening me serves no purpose. Anyone who knows my sister is well aware of that. If anything, threats will make Callie dig her heels in that much harder.
I’d intended to save my food until I got back to school, but the smell is too enticing. Walking back, I open up the food box and retrieve a couple of chips to shove into my mouth. Crisp on the outside, fluffy on the inside, just the right amount of salt and vinegar bursting over my tongue. My eyes close momentarily as I slowly chew. Delicious. So worth waiting for – and better than the school muck. Definitely the best thing that has happened to me today. I break off a piece of fish and stuff that in my mouth. I’m not a great lover of fish unless it’s swimming in vinegar and comes with big, chunky chips – and this is perfect. Having skipped breakfast, I seriously doubt if my meal will make it as far as the school gate.
‘Troy, wait up!’
I look round, surprised not so much by hearing my name but by who is calling it. Libby. She trots up to me, her heels click-clacking on the pavement.
‘Didn’t you hear me calling you?’ Libby huffs with attitude.
Seriously? After the stunt she pulled, she’s acting like she and I are friends or something. This girl has got some nerve. I move to walk past her. She sidesteps in front of me. I swivel to walk past her again. She repeats her previous move. This is getting old real fast.
‘Libby. Move.’
‘You and I need to talk.’
‘You don’t have a damn thing to say that I want to hear.’ I stuff another chip into my mouth, never taking my eyes off her.
Libby eyes my box of haddock and chips. ‘D’you mind if I have some? I missed lunch.’
My mouth falls open, my half-chewed chips on full display. Libby wrinkles her nose at the sight. My lips snap shut. Since when did Libby eat anything or ask for anything from me? I’d’ve thought she’d rather bin-dive than take food from me, or any Cross for that matter. What’s she up to? Suspicious, I hold out my fish-and-chips box towards her. If she’s going to knock the box out of my hand or spit in it, then I swear to God it’ll be on. Libby glances up at me, then helps herself to a handful of chips. I mean, a whole handful.
‘Thanks, I’m starving,’ she says with a forced smile.
My eyes narrow. Bitch, please!
What’s she up to?
If Libby imagines I’m buying this sudden camaraderie act, then she has another think coming. Does she really believe I’m that stupid? She’s not getting any more of my lunch either. I pop another couple of chips into my mouth and start back towards school. Libby falls into step next to me.
‘Libby, what’re you doing here?’
‘I was supposed to meet someone at the school gate but they didn’t turn up.’
‘Maybe they’re there now. Don’t let me keep you,’ I suggest.
Libby’s mouth tightens slightly, but she carries on walking next to me. ‘Actually, you’re the one I want to talk to. It’s about the election.’
A dusty grey van pulls up ahead of us, its hazard lights blinking. There’s no other traffic on the road, which is only ever busy during the school run. I frown at Libby, who pops a chip in her mouth. A chip – singular. Even the way she eats is grating.
‘How did you know where I was?’
‘Ayo told me, but I had to wait to sneak out because Mr Lamont was telling someone off by the tennis courts.’
We walk in silence.
‘You still haven’t told me what you want, Libby.’ I stuff another couple of chips in my mouth. ‘Have you come to stick the knife in harder or just twist it some more?’