‘She wouldn’t do that,’ Tar said.

‘Wouldn’t she?’ I said, but I hardly needed to, because we both knew she would. She’d tell him she’d been to bed with Prince Charles if it suited her. And expect him to believe it.

And he would.

‘I told you not to ring her up. She’s only saying it to make you feel guilty. Same as she always does.’

There was a long pause. I could almost hear him thinking down the phone. I held my breath. Then he said, ‘I’ve done it again, haven’t I?’ And I almost crowed because I was scared stiff he’d come back, and where was I supposed to run away to then?

‘I’m so stupid.’

‘Nah, you’re just too nice,’ I said, and I would have covered him with kisses if I could.

To be honest I wasn’t half as convinced as I made out. He beats Tar up and then when Tar goes he starts on his wife. It was quite logical, except that it was equally logical that she was lying about it.

‘It seemed so typical of him to start on her…’ he said.

‘That’s why she said it. That’s what she does, doesn’t she?’

‘Yeah… I know.’

Tar and I made arrangements for Saturday. I think I can say he was a much more cheerful boy by the time I put the phone down.

She had a big fat lip. Joanne actually saw the lip when she was out shopping with it. She wore dark glasses but she couldn’t hide the lip.

Of course, she could have done it falling down the stairs or walking into a wall. She’d done that before. But it sounded like a fair bet it was Mr Muscles wot done it. It seemed like he didn’t waste much time, either. He walked straight in and thumped her one as soon as she showed him Tar’s note and she ran straight off down the road to a friend of hers who told Joanne’s mum all about it. She slept on the sofa and their cleaning lady said there was a pile of sick behind it in the morning.

I wasn’t telling Tar that, though. Not yet, anyway. He only needed the slightest excuse to dash back and get beaten up for Mumsy.

I went round there once and she was all over him. I was surprised she didn’t put her tongue in his ear and wiggle it about. Honestly. She was grabbing hold of him and pulling him on top of her and holding on to him like Young Love, except that she’s about forty and all baggy and scrawny with her hair all over the place, like the Hag Woman of Minely. It quite put me off him for a bit. I’d smell her on him sometimes. She used to use gallons of perfume to try and drown out the booze, and she came out smelling like she drank the stuff. Maybe she did.

Poor Tar was ever so embarrassed but his dad was livid. He was clanging around in the background pouring drinks for him and her, not forgetting to abuse her for drinking it, of course. I never heard language like it. His dad, actually, must have known she was only doing it to wind him up but he couldn’t help getting angry about it. Not that he wanted to have her wet tongue in his ear… but he didn’t want her to even pretend to put it in anyone else’s, especially not Tar’s. And of course that’s exactly why she did it.

It was all deeply crazy stuff and both Tar and his dad knew exactly what she was up to but they didn’t seem able to help themselves. She had the old man knocking Tar about, when all he really wanted to do was land one on her.

It sounded as though he hadn’t wasted much time waiting for his dreams to come true. And of course she wanted Tar to come back and carry on inserting his face in between his dad’s fist and her own ugly mug.

I had no intention of letting him.

I tried to get round to have a look at his mum myself. I thought I’d go and knock on the door and pretend to be all sympathetic. Fat chance. My mum and dad would have fed me to the sharks first.

Since Tar ran off, things had been tighter than ever. Dad wasn’t just picking me up from school. He’d started taking me there as well. He must have got time off work to do it, because I didn’t get ready until about ten to nine. There were top-level meetings at school. I used to catch glimpses of the teachers keeping an eye on me when I went to the loo, that sort of thing. Of course it was All For My Own Good. They wanted every second of my life accounted for. I suppose they thought that the moment I had a spare minute, I’d be peeling my knickers off and diving into the boys’ toilets…

I tried telling them. ‘I’M STILL A VIRGIN!’ I screamed from the top of the stairs one day. There was no reply.

I’d had the police round questioning me about Tar. Mum and Dad hated that. I think they hated me for it, bringing their home into disrepute or something. They’d even taken to locking the doors in the evening to stop me sneaking out. The stupidity of it, when you think… I mean, I could have gone out of the windows or anything. And, of course, my weekends out hadn’t been banned, not yet anyway, although I assumed that it was only a matter of time. Let’s face it, if I was going to run off there wasn’t much they could do about it, beyond tying me to the bannisters. As they were soon to find out.

They thought I was on drugs, too. I got accused of smoking and sniffing glue on the beach with the crowd.

‘I expect that boyfriend of yours is dead by this time,’ my father suggested, sounding as though it would be no bad thing. Tar, sniffing glue… I ask you. Or me, for that matter. It’s true some of the kids did it but all I’d ever done was smoke a bit of hash. Of course, they knew all about it. I don’t know who told them but they knew all right.

My parents belonged to the Slippery Slope school of thought. They had no doubt at all that unless my life was made as miserable as possible, I’d be a junkie whore by midnight.

I made my plans. I went along with it, staying in, presenting my homework for the nightly check, waiting for my dad at the school gate to collect me. I was even dropping the sarcasm.

‘I hope there’s nothing behind this good behaviour, missy,’ my mother told me. Talk about trust. I suppose I overdid the not being sarcastic. Sarcasm flows in my veins like blood. But it shows how much they thought of their darling daughter, that I couldn’t even be good without arousing suspicion.

Still, I did pretty good. Saturday was the best day for it. They’d get furious at teatime when I was supposed to check in and start worrying at night when I didn’t turn up. But in the end they’d get hoisted by their own paranoia. I reckoned they’d think I was staying the night with some boy. It wouldn’t occur to them I was actually giving them the elbow. They’d start really worrying, I mean police worrying, about Sunday night. Monday morning, and they’d get a nice letter in the post from their loving daughter.

This is how I did it.

I hid my bag in a garden a few houses down on Friday night, so I wouldn’t be seen walking out with it. Next morning, shower, breakfast…

‘Where are you going this weekend?’ my dad demanded. He’d dropped any pretence of liking me over the past few weeks.

I shrugged. ‘Down town, maybe.’

He snorted. My mum leaned across and held my arm. ‘Stay out of trouble, Gemma,’ she begged, but I didn’t even bother looking at her. I thought, If you only knew.

I sneaked out about ten. Mum was upstairs and Dad was out at the supermarket. I walked out of the house and down the road to the coach station.

Oh, there was one little arrangement I forgot to tell you. On Friday I got my hands on Dad’s Visa card and booked my ticket. I also helped myself to his bank card. He was always running about the house yelling, ‘Where’s my cards, where’s my cards? If I can’t find them I’ll have to ring up and get them cancelled again…’ So even though he’d miss them some time over the weekend, he’d wait a few days for them to turn up before getting suspicious.

I have indicated that my parents are not over-endowed in the head department. Dad left the number you need to type in the money machine written on the back of a mirror in the bedroom. He’s not very good at remembering things. On the way to the station I dropped by the bank and got a hundred quid out. It was no sweat. In the town centre I posted the letter to my parents.

Then I stepped on the coach.

And the coach drove off.

And it was as simple as that.

I was almost chewing my nails with frustration and excitement by the time we got to the coach station. I almost welcomed that feeling actually, because I didn’t want to be cool about it. I was planning on giving Tar a welcome he’d remember for the rest of his life. I was going to really go for it, knock him off his feet. I wasn’t going to be cool and swagger down the stairs and say, ‘Hi…’ It was going to be full pelt, total happiness. Tar’s had so much grief in his life. I wanted to make the poor sod feel so good. And I wanted him to make me feel good too.

I was thinking that all that excitement and frustration building up inside me was rocket fuel…

I saw him out of the coach window, waiting for me. I ducked down. I didn’t want to water myself down with little glances through the window. I kept my head down right up until I was on the last step down from the coach… then I saw him.

I yelled, ‘TAR!!!’ and I dropped my bags on the steps and I went off like a scalded cat, shrieking across the tarmac, screaming his name at the top of my voice. He looked quite alarmed. I got my arms round him and I hugged him and, oh, and I kissed him and I hugged him and I kissed him and I danced around and then I hugged and kissed him some more and, oh, and I squashed my boobs on his chest and slowly this enormous great smile crept across his face…

‘Oh, it’s so GOOD to see you… Oh, I’ve MISSED you, I’ve MISSED you…’ And I was pressing myself into him and pulling him against me and and and and – and I think it worked.

I made him walk me round a bit. We went through the town centre to the docks… and I just fell in love with the place. It wasn’t big and busy like you think a city’s gonna be. No one was desperate about anything. There were weeds growing out of the walls and people weren’t rushing. I cooled down and I started feeling really mellow. I mean, I was still high, but it was okay to be high. No one was bothered about stopping me; it didn’t feel like I was going out of control. I remember thinking, I’m gonna like it here.

Tar was worried about getting home. ‘They’ve cooked us a meal,’ he kept saying. ‘They’re really nice people, it’s rude…’ But I wasn’t interested in them.

I don’t love Tar, I’ve said that, but I didn’t half fancy him that day. I kept catching sight of myself in the windows. I was very pink in the face and I was wearing all these russety coloured things – scarf and jumper and a skirt. I should have worn jeans and things but I’d dressed up.

It was all for him, see. I wanted to feel like he could have done anything he wanted with me and I’d have let him.

We got away from the docks and into the market and I suddenly leaned against the wall and pulled him on top of me. He’s about a foot taller than me. I pulled him on me so he was leaning against me. I could see from his face what I was doing to him. Then he kissed me – a real long kiss like we were on our own in the middle of a forest or a desert and there was no one within a hundred miles and we could do anything we liked.

I said, ‘Wow…’

‘Yeah, wow.’

I wanted him to touch me so much I think I’d have dragged him into a shop doorway but there were too many people about. But that was okay. There was always later on.

Richard was a bit weird, grinning all over the place, but he was fun. I think he was shy or something. Jerry was okay, he was fairly normal but even he was putting it on a bit. I felt like they could have been vampires in disguise for all I saw of the real them. You had the feeling they were nice because they’d decided it was the fashion to be nice. You could see them working out how to be nice. For all I knew they were probably no nicer than I am.

Now, if it’d been me, I’d have been sleeping in doorways and eating toenail clippings. But I’d have found a crowd to do it with, I expect. I guess I’m not all that interested in niceness. Sometimes people call me nice but that’s just because I can make them feel happy. Inside, I just want to have a good time, enjoy myself.

I expect I’ll get found out one day.

The first bad sign was that the meal Richard had made for us was drying out in the oven. Richard didn’t care. When I said we’d been sightseeing he beamed at the ceiling as if it was the most exciting thing in the world and said, ‘Oh, that’s all right.’ Vonny was a bit put out, though, even though she hadn’t cooked it. Well, except she’d made an apple pie for pudding.

Over the apple pie Vonny said, ‘How long are you staying with us, Gemma?’ And there was this pause. I could feel them all looking at me.

I thought… oho. Because it wasn’t, do you think you’ll like living here, but, how long…

I just smiled and I said, ‘I don’t know. I just don’t know…’ And I smiled and they smiled and Tar smiled.

Like I say… they were all very nice.

They wanted to know if I’d heard anything about Tar’s mum. So we talked about that for about an hour which made him utterly miserable. Mind you, they seemed to have a good time.

After a bit it turned out they were all anarchists. That took me back a bit. I mean, I don’t know much about it, but aren’t anarchists supposed to go around blowing people up, not hugging one another? It turned out they had this big plan for Sunday night. They were going to go out and superglue all the locks in the banks.

Richard got really beside himself about this. He kept putting his beer down and grinning wildly at the ceiling with the sheer delight of ruining the banks’ trade for a day. I said, ‘Don’t banks have back doors, then?’

‘Oh, we’ll glue those up, too. And the night safes.’ And he beamed all round the pub like a man who had been given a million pounds.

It was all arranged. Me and Tar were going along with them. I got quite excited about it. I thought, This is different. I always looked down at the vandals at home – you know, having a good time by smashing up the kiddies’ playground. Great fun, eh? But this had a purpose and anyway, I’d have given anything to see the bank manager’s face when his lock wouldn’t open. We all had a good laugh about that.

I told them about my mum and dad and they seemed very sympathetic. Richard was quite distressed about it. ‘My parents used to let me misbehave all I wanted,’ he said, and he grinned in that mad way he had at the ceiling. ‘I made plenty of use of the opportunity,’ he added happily.

I was getting to like Richard.

We started swapping stories about mums and dads and how terrible they were. Tar was a bit quiet. Well, he would be, wouldn’t he? But I was beginning to get the giggles. I’d had a vodka and orange on top of the lager and I was thinking how just at that very time my parents would be beginning to get utterly furious. It was ten thirty and I was just one hour late. They’d be sitting there grinding their teeth and planning new restrictions, which frankly would be taxing even their imaginations because there wasn’t much left to restrict. They’d be wondering who I was sleeping with, what I was taking, etc. etc. It really cracked me up, thinking about them raging around at home and ringing round all my friends and promising themselves they’d be tougher tomorrow. And all the time I was a hundred miles away…

They’d find out on Monday morning when my letter came through.

And then, Vonny turned to me cool as a cucumber and she said, ‘Don’t you think you ought to ring your folks up and tell them you’re all right?’

I just gaped at her. The hypocrisy of it! There we’d been swapping stories about parental horror and now she wanted me to start being nice to them!

‘What for?’ I asked.

‘But they must be feeling awful. At least you could let them know you’re all right.’

‘And tell them when to expect me back?’ I asked. ‘And to send on the woolly vests.’

‘No, like I said – just let them know you’re okay.’

‘I think that would be a good idea,’ said Richard to the ceiling.

Well, I was cornered, wasn’t I? I went on about the letter coming on the Monday morning but it wasn’t good enough. Mum and Dad were worried now. I tried to point out that at this stage in the proceedings, incandescent fury would be a more typical reaction, but no. Even Tar rounded on me. Then of course he wanted to ring up his mum and we had to argue him out of that. I hoped that’d put them off the scent but as soon as he backed down they started on me again.

They even had a whip round so I wouldn’t get cut off in the middle of something important. And before I knew it I was standing there in front of the pay phone stuffing in pound coins and thinking, Pig, pig, pig. How did this happen?

‘Gemma… where have you been? Where are you now?’

‘I’m all right, I’m just –’

‘We’ve been worried sick –’

‘It’s only half past ten –’

‘It’s eleven o’clock and you should have been in an hour and a half ago. I thought we were past this, I thought things were getting better. Your mother…’

‘Look, I’m ringing up to let you know I won’t be back tonight…’

‘You… you’d better be back. Picked up with some of those seafront friends again, have you?… It isn’t good enough, Gemma… blah blah rant…’

And he was off. That’s all it took. I held the phone away from my ear and I whispered, ‘Please, please don’t do this to me…’ I was in the corner of the pub but I was aware of all of them looking over at me. I couldn’t talk to him, he was shouting so much. I couldn’t even look upset because they were all watching. I just had to pretend I was having a normal conversation with a normal person.

‘Oh, we’re having a great time, thanks. Yes, okay, I’ll be careful. Yeah, thanks, Dad. I’ll see you tomorrow… Yeah, give Mum a big kiss…’

And he was going, ‘Why are you speaking to me like that, are you being sarcastic? Gemma, what’s going on? Look, let’s overlook this slip. You get back here WITHIN THE HOUR and we can discuss –’

‘No, I’ve already eaten, we had baked potatoes. I’ll give you a ring again, tomorrow probably. Okay, see you, Dad, thanks, ‘bye…’

And I put the phone down.

I don’t know why it upset me so much. I just wasn’t ready for it. I was leaving home, I was running away, I just wasn’t ready to start talking to them. I guess it took me by surprise.

I stood there for a bit staring at the wall trying not to cry. It wouldn’t do for them to see me cry after speaking to my folks. Vonny came up to me after a minute and tried to peer into my face but I turned away.

‘Are you okay? Gemma?’ She came up close and touched my arm. ‘Is everything okay at home?’

The stupid cow! What did she think things were like at home? I closed my eyes and nodded my head. It felt like she was drilling a hole in my skull. She just made everything so hard. I managed to whisper, ‘Look, I’ve done it, is that enough?’ She thought about it and nodded. I went out to the toilet to fix my face.

Me and Tar went back and sat in his room. I was furious with him for siding with them. We almost had an argument and then I started to cry and…

I couldn’t really be angry with him for long. Once he saw me cry he got really upset about it. He started hugging me and saying, ‘Sorry, sorry…’ and getting all wet-eyed. And I thought, I’m not coming all this way just to fall out with Tar about that pair of sergeant majors.

We got ourselves cosy. I wanted to light a fire but we weren’t allowed to in case the neighbours thought the house was on fire and called the fire brigade. They weren’t supposed to know the house was squatted. We weren’t allowed to have the lights on either, for the same reason. I was beginning to get a bit irritated with the list of things we weren’t allowed to do. But Tar stuck loads of candles in bottles and made coffee and we sat on the floor in a pile of cushions and had a bit of a cuddle, and we talked for ages about… I dunno, everything.

Then bedtime came along. I had my bedroll with me that I used for camping. Tar had his mattress and he kept going on and on about me sleeping on that. I could feel myself losing my temper about it so I just said, ‘Okay, okay.’ I had his present to give him and I didn’t want to spoil this.

I was feeling shy by this time. I put the bedroll down next to the mattress and got undressed and into my bag while he was out of the room.

And I thought, right. I’ve done my bit. He can do the rest. Tar came in. He blew out the candles, got undressed in a corner and into his pyjamas. Then he slid into his bag and just lay there.

I was furious. Livid. I had the bag up around my nose so my hair and my eyes were peering out at him, three feet away with his eyes closed, all set to go to sleep. The worst of it was, I was getting cold and if this kept on I’d have to sneak out and get my pyjamas on.

I lay there for about ten minutes getting really chilly. And then he said, ‘Can we have a cuddle?’

‘All right, then.’

He pushed his mattress across so he lay next to me and hugged me. He didn’t try to kiss me. Then he put his hand on my neck and I could feel his fingers slide down to my shoulder…

I was watching him. I saw his eyes open and catch me looking at him and he closed them again, quickly. Then in a moment the fingers slid down a little further, down my waist, to my hips.

That was my present, see. Me. I wasn’t wearing a stitch.

Tar opened his eyes and smiled at me and I smiled back and said, ‘It’s a double. The sleeping-bag.’

‘Oh…’

The big oaf.

‘I’ve taken two bags and zipped them together.’

He got out of bed and was just about to slide in next to me when I said, ‘Have you got anything?’

‘Oh… no…’

It was such a pain. I was so cross. I sat up in bed and seized a cup of cold coffee I had by me. ‘Do I have to do everything?’ I snapped, and started slurping the coffee.

‘I’m sorry, I’m so stupid…’

Well… I suppose I should have supplied them. How was he to know? Still, Tar was never a Boy Scout, that much was clear.

Then he said, ‘Hang on…’ And he ups and outs the room with his jeans on and I thought…

‘Oh, no!’ I knew what he was doing. He was going to borrow some off Vonny and Jerry… I was half amused, half furious… because, I mean, this was my first time. I didn’t want to use boring old borrowed anarchist condoms!

And then he was away for ages. He must have been half an hour and then he came back quietly in case I was asleep, all sheepish.

‘Sorry…’

‘What happened?’

‘They were a bit reluctant to lend them.’

‘Why?’

‘Well, you’re only fourteen, see, and…’

I got the picture. There’d been a big discussion about whether Gemma was old enough. I was livid. I sat there and steamed. He was dithering around the room. He came and sat next to me and asked me if I didn’t want to any more. It was dreadful. This was exactly the sort of thing I’d wanted to avoid. I thought he’d discover me wearing nothing at all under my sleeping-bag and it would just happen. Now he was sitting there in his blue jeans and I had my jumper back on, I’d got so cold waiting.

I said, ‘Oh, never mind,’ and I turned away and wrapped myself back up in my sleeping-bag as if I wanted to go to sleep. I could feel him standing there for a moment, then he got into his. He lay close and cuddled up to me.

Well. Sometimes you’ve got to work harder than you want to. I turned round and he kissed me and then he slid out and into my bag and he lay there very still for a bit, although I could tell he was really excited. He can be very tactful sometimes. We cuddled and it got very warm and then a bit steamy and pretty soon my jumper found its way up around my neck…

And I said…

Oh… I felt so sorry for him, but I hadn’t anything else to give him, you know? It was just a moment we had together. I mean, he was a really special person to me, but… I just felt that someone could come along and blow hard and I’d fly away from him, go in the wind and end up… next door or on another planet with someone else, anywhere. Just because the wind blew.

I didn’t want to hurt him.

I put my finger on his lips and I said, ‘Ssssh…’

I could see him looking at me. He was hurt and I felt cross because I’d done my best. And what right had he got to love me?

I said, ‘Don’t say that.’

There was a long silence and then he said this funny thing… ‘Dandelion.’

I just looked at him, it was so out of context. I said, ‘What’s that supposed to mean?’

He sort of smiled and shrugged and I smiled back because I realised…

He’d given me a picture he’d done of a dandelion. It was a lovely picture. I didn’t know what the dandelion meant to him but I knew what he was saying. He was saying that he still loved me, even though…

I wanted to say something to him… to tell him that I felt so much for him, even though I didn’t love him. I couldn’t say dandelion so I said, ‘Ladybird.’ It just came into my head.

He laughed and said, ‘Why ladybird?’

I said, ‘Because they’re nice, and everyone likes them, and they’re pretty and red…’ He began to kiss my mouth.

‘… and they like dandelions. A lot,’ I said. I touched his nose with the tip of my finger, as if I was telling him off.

Tar smiled and nodded.

‘Dandelion,’ he said.

‘Ladybird.’

‘Dandelion.’

‘Ladybird.’

And I really did love him in that moment, more than anyone, more than myself, even though tomorrow it might all be over.

He kissed my mouth and we snuggled up as close as we could get.