One last glimpse
an excerpt

“That one. The blonde.”

Alex threw him a sideward glance, trying to pick out the girl in the mob of schoolchildren huddled by the corner shop. A swarm of them, they’d descended on the same patch everyday for a week now, gossiping, smoking, eyeing up passing strangers that could be cajoled into buying them bottles of cider, alchopops. This was their patch, and they made sure everyone knew it: dressed in their uniform of tracksuits and chains they sneered and sniggered at anyone stupid enough to catch their eye, jeering as the timid lunchtime shoppers scuttled past, heads glued to the floor, racing from the relative safety of the housing estate on one side, and the small boulevard of shops that heralded the town centre on the other.

Just let them try it, Graham thought defiantly as a spattering of glares were slung their way, just let them bloody try it. He couldn’t take much more of this, the long tedious hours standing outside this godforsaken shop, bidding their time. If he’d had his way they’d have been long out of town by now. He could handle himself; Alex could have half these lads in hospital without a bruise. He pulled himself up, bristling for a fight.

But that wasn’t the plan, was it? He thought bitterly, thrusting his hands deeper into his pockets and slouching against the brick wall they’d found to use as a shelter from the wind. The girl was all that mattered.

He could spot her easily now, even if Alex couldn’t, his sight was going now, even if none of them admitted it. One of the stragglers, skirting the edge of the group. Her make up was caked on a little too thickly; she laughed just a second too late. You could see it flashing in her eyes: fear. A rabbit caught in the headlights – so desperately trying to disappear in anonymity. She didn’t belong: her presence jarred slightly, an oval peg being sledge-hammered into a circle hole.

A slightly smug, reminiscing smile uncoiled on his face. He had been like that, once upon a time. Another class joker, disruptive, never expected to achieve anything except a nice, unskilled, 9 to 5 job in some nameless town, another reject to be slotted into the system. But he was different. Meant for something else. This girl was the same, only she didn’t know it yet.

“You’re one of us.” Graham breathed. He was sure of it now, no matter what the others said. He wasn’t stupid; he knew what they thought about him. That he was losing it, seeing things in some blind desperation to win back his father’s pride. As if finding the girl could bring back the dead.

Alex turned round to face him, hands shaking as he fumbled with a lighter, holding it up to the cigarette dangling from his lips. “I see her. The small one. Pale. With the red bag.” He raised his eyebrows, finishing quietly, “She looks ill.”

Giddy with triumph, Graham laughed, “I told you so, yeah? I’ve been keeping an eye on her, all this month. She’s the one. One of us. One in two million.”
Alex just grunted, apparently unimpressed. “It looks like all the signs are there. But don’t go jumping to conclusions.” He paused, taking a drag of smoke and looking guilty: he’d been trying to quit for months now, ever since he’d found out about the baby. Slowly, he looked at Graham and asked wearily, “What’s her name then?”

“Leah. Leah Harrison.”

“Parents?”

“Both alive. Both living with her.” Graham rocked back on his heels, suddenly nervous, desperate to see some sort of approval on Alex’s face. Nothing. He was a hard man to please; Graham knew that more than anyone. “That’s unusual, but not unheard of.”

“Yes. Not unheard of.” Somewhere in the distance a bell could be heard wailing – the end of lunch. The majority of the students began to move, screeching and giggling back towards the school, calling to those who’d stayed behind. The girl, Leah, she moved with the herd, head down. For a second, he caught her eye: a bewildered flash of blue peering out from under the wiry blonde fringe that covered that covered most of her gaunt, pallid face. Just for a second. And suddenly all his doubts were gone. Pulling himself up to full height, he turned on Alex, angry.

“Didn’t you see her? Are you blind? I know, Alex. She’s one of us, and I’m not having her rot here! Because that’s what’ll happen if we don’t do something and you know it! Or do you just not care anymore? Are you that bloody self-centred?” His words carried, whipped away by the wind. People were staring; he could feel their disapproval closing in on him.

Alex said nothing, fixing him with a hard, cold look that oozed irritation. When he spoke his voice was dangerously low.

“You know nothing. Nothing. You’ve got no idea what you’re getting yourself into. How many people do you think I’ve chased, people like that girl there? Hoping that maybe, just this time, it’ll pay off?” A bitter edge slid through his voice, the dull cynicism of a broken man who had drawn the short straw in life one time too many. It stabbed through Graham like a knife, hitting him with the sudden, unshakable realisation. Alex was getting old. An old man trapped in the body of a twenty-something, his life trickling away uncontrollably, water pouring through open fingers. He would die soon, leaving his wife, his child. Leaving Graham. And one day Graham would be just the same. Carefully, he peeled his eyes up from the floor, meeting Alex’s icy glare.

“Sorry.”

Alex sighed, something softening in his voice, a spark of humanity flickering in his stern tone. “Fine. On your head be it. You try and bring her in. You can’t go following me forever.” The unsaid words hung between them, impossible to ignore, ringing out in the deafening silence that enfolded them. Time you went out on your own, Graham - because one day soon, I won’t be there.

Glancing at his watch, Alex checked his phone, muttering, “Salima’s not called. That gives us a few hours.” Graham couldn’t help grinning, feeling slightly smug. He had a chance. Just the one, that was all he needed. Already wrapped up in his plans he turned to go, but Alex caught his arm.

“Graham. I trust you with this, yeah? Whatever you decide to do – it’s your call. But you’re on your own: I’m not going to bail you out if you mess this up. We’re leaving in a few days, and don’t think I won’t leave you to rot here, if you get above yourself and end up in some police cell.”

Chilled, Graham found himself unable to move, pinned by Alex’s words, the look in his dark, blue eyes. “And don’t you forget. She has a family, this girl. They won’t understand. Just think what you’re going to be asking this Leah to do. It’s going to get messy. Cover your tracks. Don’t get reckless. And if in doubt, dump her. You cut and you run. Understand?”

Sullenly, Graham nodded, the anticipation torn from his gut, his half-formed dreams of returning home and seeing a flicker of respect behind Alex’s eyes plucked away like ashes on the wind.

Silently, he started to amble towards the school, half wanting to fling his bag on the floor and kick it, burning with resentment of being talked down to, again, of being treated like some naïve child.

“And be careful!” Alex’s last protests came as a whisper in the corners of his mind, half drowned by the howling wind that buffeted him from side to side as he turned the corner. Graham didn’t look back.

Digging inside his pockets he pulled out his phone: a gleaming new model that he’d taken from a shop in town a week or so a go. No one knew he had it, although you could bet Alex had guessed, even if he had said nothing. He scowled, imagining his mother’s outrage, her sickening rants about morals, how his father would be turning in his grave. She had no idea, what it was like to be him, watching them all scrimp and save and try to make ends meet. Graham could solve all their problems in a day, if only he was allowed. And they weren’t even grateful for that.

His resolve hardened by the burning resentment that settled in the pit of his stomach, Graham scrolled down into his pictures, selecting the single image stored there. Leah Harrison’s blurred face settled on the screen, the only photograph he’d been able to get of her. Studying it for a moment or two, he flicked the phone shut and allowed himself a tight a tight smile of victory. For all of Alex’s warnings, he knew this would be easy.

“Leah Harrison.” He whispered to himself, a bubble of nervous laughter rising in his voice, “There’s no going back from here.”