The Art of Being Normal by Lisa Williamson Read Free Book Online

anything about him.’
    ‘Now steady on, kiddo, I might know more than you think,’ Spike says, holding up his hands.
    ‘You know bugger all,’ I spit, heading for the door.
    ‘Leo,’ Spike calls. ‘Oh, come back, mate! Leo!’
    I slam the front door behind me.
    As I stomp across the garden I hear one of the upstairs windows open and Tia’s thin little voice calling my name. I ignore it and keep walking.
    I know exactly where I’m going.
    I’m heading for the old Cloverdale baths.
    It’s still light when I arrive so I lie on my back on the bottom of the empty pool with my hoodie propped under my head as a pillow. Above me, the fading sunlight shines through the glass roof and warms my face. Already I feel a bit calmer. I spread my fingers out. The tiles beneath me feel cool and sort of damp, which is weird because there hasn’t been any water in here for a couple of years now. It still smells of chlorine though. I like breathing it in, taking big gulps and letting it fill up my lungs and nostrils.
    When they announced they were going to close down the Cloverdale swimming baths a few years ago, everyone made a big fuss and signed a petition, but it did no good; the council went ahead and closed them anyway. They’re building a new leisure centre about a mile away apparently, with a gym and café and Zumba classes. It won’t be the same though.
    I used to swim here when I was a kid. On sunny days like today, you’d get blinded doing the backstroke. But I liked it best when it was raining. I used to love how it got really dark and the water would thunder on the roof and you could imagine you were swimming down the Amazon in the middle of some tropical storm.
    Gav used to bring me and Amber here on a Saturday morning while Mam stayed in bed and slept off her hangover. Gav was Mam’s boyfriend at the time. He taught us to swim in the shallow end – backstroke and front crawl. Amber never liked it much. She didn’t like getting her hair wet and would cough and splutter every time she got water in her mouth. But I loved it. Gav used to say I was a natural, a proper water baby.
    I liked Gav. He was one of the better ones. Of course he was too soft and let Mam get on at him all the time, until one day he must have finally had enough because he left the house in the morning and never came back.
    Even though I haven’t been in the water for five years now, I miss the way swimming made me feel – calm and in control. I miss the muffled sound of voices when my head was underneath the water. Sometimes I think life would be about a thousand times easier if I could do everything under water, with no one bothering me, everyone’s words distorted and far away, and me just under the surface, fast and untouchable.
    As I lie there, Spike’s words keep echoing around my head: ‘I might know more than you think.’ Part of me wishes I’d stayed and asked him what he meant. But then Spike would only have Mam’s story and who knows what crap she’s been telling him.
    No, the only person who can really tell me the truth is long gone.

11
    At lunch time on Monday, the canteen is packed, the majority prepared to put up with the stench of boiled cabbage and burnt parsnips in exchange for warmth. Essie, Felix and I look over at Leo who is wolfing down a plate of chips.
    ‘I wonder where he goes?’ I ponder, watching as he deposits his empty tray and heads for the door.
    ‘To howl at the moon?’ Essie suggests.
    ‘Ha bloody ha.’
    ‘Why do you care anyway?’ she asks.
    Through the glass, I watch as Leo strides across the playground. He doesn’t wear a coat and I can see his breath in the air.
    ‘He must be freezing,’ I murmur, frowning and craning my neck as he disappears round the corner. The weather turned over the weekend. According to the newspaper it’s set to be the coldest September on record since the 1940s.
    ‘Who are you, his mother?’ Essie says.
    Essie is in a horrible mood because she’s just found out