Weirdo by Cathi Unsworth Read Free Book Online Page B

the chalk down and sat back on her heels, lifting up her mug of tea, “there was a new girl.” She took a slow sip, looking down at the beginnings of her new creation. “I got lumbered with showing her around, so I din’t do as much as normal.”
    Alex raised his eyebrows. “You din’t like her, then?”
    Debbie cut him a sideways glance. “No,” she said. “Corrine did though.”
    She put the cup down and picked up the chalk, bent back over her drawing, trying not to think of the argument they’d had on the way home, Corrine trying to assure her that she was only being nice to the new girl and that Sam was lovely really, showing her the little pencils she’d given her, white with pink love hearts down the side. Sickly childish things.
    “How come?” Alex watched Debbie’s face change, the colour rising in her cheeks.
    “Well,” said Debbie, not looking up, “Pinhead made them sit together and she started sucking up to Reenie straight away. Told her that her granddad own the Leisure Beach and she can take her there any old time she like, get free rides and everything.”
    “Oh yeah?” said Alex. “Well, maybe that in’t such a badthing, Debs. Look, I know you done your best for her, but you and Reenie in’t really got a lot in common, have you?”
    “No,” Debbie said, trying to keep the wobble out of her voice.
    “I mean,” Alex went on, “she don’t like the same things you do, do she? You said yourself you only got her to go down Swing’s the other week ’cos she thought she was in with that, what’s his name, Julian?”
    Debbie nodded, swallowing hard. “Yeah,” she said.
    “He was a good bloke,” Alex considered, and then said more gently, “and so was that Darren. You like him, don’t you?”
    Debbie nodded her head. But it wasn’t his face that danced before her eyes. It was Corrine, standing in the middle of the alleyway on their shortcut home, raging at her: “Now you’ve got that Darren to play with, that in’t even like you want me no more, is it?” Poking Debbie in the breastbone with a hard little finger. “See! You don’t even try and deny it. What do you even care about Sam for?”
    Alex put his sketchpad down, slid off the bed and down next to her. The youngest of three boys by ten years, Alex’s own brothers had always been remote, leaving home while he was still a child. Debbie had always seemed more like his real sibling.
    “That’s really good,” he said, putting an arm around her, looking down at the drawing.
    “D’you think?” Debbie sniffed, glad for a change of subject.
    “Yeah,” said Alex. “Let me get some paint. I’ll help you with it.”

7
Silver
March 2003
    On the pavement outside, Francesca laughed. “Oh dear,” she said, placing her hand on Sean’s arm for a moment. “Sorry about that. That’s what you call an Ernemouth welcome. I had it all myself when I started here, especially from Pat. She’s been here the longest, had that job since she was sixteen. Likes everyone to know who runs the place.”
    “Well, you must have made a better impression than I did,” said Sean. “She’s like your guard dog now.”
    “I have my ways. Now then, we go down here,” she led him down a Victorian arcade, past shops selling jewellery, souvenirs and women’s clothing.
    “There’s not much in the way of sophistication here,” said Francesca, eyes flicking towards a display of mannequins in florals that had probably been there half a century. “But what you can find is always in the oldest part of town.”
    When they came out at the bottom, Sean thought for one horrible moment that she was about to lead him back to his hotel and that institutional smell of meat and gravy. But instead she stepped to the left, went through a cutting into a square of Georgian houses.
    “See there, at the bottom,” she pointed to some much older buildings, remnants of the old Town Wall and a preserved peel tower. “That’s the Tollhouse. The old jail. Where