from his father who kicked it a couple of months back.’
She stared up at Maxen – at the splattering of acne across his pale cheeks, the way he was huddled into his khaki jacket, various badges pinned to the pockets.
‘And now he’s going out with your sister,’ he said.
She clenched her fists. Why did everything good happen to Gail?
‘Why are you telling me all this?’ she said. But she didn’t wait for an answer – she turned and rushed from the arcade and out into the dull grey day.
She hurried along Cliff Road, eventually turning a corner towards the sea, and shuffled a packet of cigarettes from her denim jacket pocket.
The cliff edge was deserted, apart from a teenager with his back to her looking out to sea, his hands in black trouser pockets. She dropped down on a bench and stared at him as she lit a cigarette. He turned as though sensing her there. She vaguely recognised him from school – although he hadn’t been in any of her classes. He looked somehow wrong in a creased white shirt that had clearly been taken straight from the packet, and a black tie.
‘Hey,’ he said, raking his fingers through white-blonde hair. ‘Couldn’t spare one of those, could you?’
She threw him the packet, and he took one and threw it back. ‘Got a light?’ he said, approaching. She handed him her lighter as he sat down beside her. He smelt of cheap aftershave.
He dragged on the cigarette and blew smoke circles upwards. ‘My mum died,’ he said after some moments. ‘I’ve just been to her funeral. Carried the coffin. Life’s shit, don’t you think?’
‘I’m so sorry,’ was all she could think to say.
‘Me too.’ He sniffed, looking up and into her eyes. ‘You look a bit like one of those china dolls,’ he said. ‘My mum used to have one. It freaked the life out of me when I was little.’
‘Oh …’ She touched her face.
He laughed. ‘You’re all right. I didn’t mean you’re freaky or nothing. Just pale and fragile, and your hair’s all curly and that.’ He smiled. ‘Do I know you?’
She shrugged. ‘I think we went to the same school.’
‘Yeah, that’s it. And you live in Bostagel, don’t you?’
She nodded. ‘Ocean View Cottage.’
‘Yeah, I thought I’d seen you about. I live in Cranberry Close.’ Another sniff.
‘How did your mum die? If you don’t mind me asking.’
‘Fucking cancer,’ he said. ‘She’d been ill for ages. We all knew it was terminal, but it was still a shock, you know.’
She met his blue, watery eyes. Her family was useless, but at least they were alive. ‘I’m so sorry.’
‘Cheers for that.’ He turned from her gaze. Kicked a stone. ‘Dad’s taken it bad. She was his rock – mine too.’
‘I’m so sorry,’ she said again. She felt an urge to lean over and hug him, but beat it down.
They sat for a while, looking out. The sea and sky were the same shade of grey. It was impossible to tell where one ended and the other began. Boats bobbed on the waves and a feeling of peace washed over Ava, and her stomach twisted as she looked at the lad, and quickly looked away again. She liked him.
Nearby seagulls wailed, breaking the quiet.
‘What’s your name?’ he said, and she turned back to see his eyes were fixed on her.
‘Ava.’
‘Nice – suits you. I’m Justin.’ He rose. ‘Well, Ava, I’d better get back to the wake. Dad’s been necking the spirits, so I need to keep an eye on him. I reckon he’s full of grief and guilt and shit.’ He threw the cigarette to the ground and pummelled it with his trainer. ‘Maybe I’ll see you in the village sometime.’
‘I hope so,’ she said, as he walked away, hands deep in his pockets, shoulders hunched, not looking back.
1999
Ava stared at the ceiling, eyes wide. She hadn’t slept for two nights. Not since she bought the pregnancy test on Thursday. Not since it told her she was having Justin’s baby.
It had been a weak moment – that night they went back to Cranberry Close when Justin’s dad was out. She hadn’t meant for things to go so far.
‘She’s seeing Justin Havers, Mum.’ It was Gail’s voice – her tone high-pitched, carrying up the stairs. Ava sat up. She’d kept her relationship with Justin from her mum for almost four months, knowing she would disapprove of him. Think he wasn’t good enough. How the hell had Gail found out?
‘Ian Havers’ son?’ Jeannette cried.
‘Aha. That’s the one. Talk about scraping the barrel.’
‘Oh my God, no.’ Jeannette’s voice was high and tense. ‘She can’t go out with him. For goodness’ sake, that girl will be the death of me. Whatever is she thinking?’
Ava dived from her bed, and raced down the stairs in her pyjamas to where Jeannette and Gail sat in the lounge drinking coffee. They looked up.
‘I love him,’ Ava blurted from the doorway.
‘You have no idea what love is, Ava. You’re only seventeen,’ her mother cried, slamming down her mug. ‘And Ian Havers’ son of all people – sometimes I think you go out of your way to upset me.’ She sniffed, pulled a tissue from her sleeve, and dabbed her nose.
Ava stepped into the room and sat down on the chair, glaring at her mum and sister. She took a deep breath and blurted, ‘I’m pregnant.’
Jeannette gasped and covered her mouth with her hands.
‘Jesus, Ava,’ Gail said. ‘Just when I thought you couldn’t stoop any lower.’
‘You failed all your exams, you smoke, you drink …’ Jeannette released the slide clipping her fair hair back, as though it might relieve her tension. ‘And now you’re pregnant,’ she continued. ‘You’ll have an abortion. There’s no doubt about that. I’ll book you in privately. And don’t for goodness’ sake tell anyone.’
‘No!’ Ava yelled.
‘No?’
‘I’m keeping the baby. I know when I tell Justin he’ll be pleased, and we can move in together.’
‘Ava, for Christ’s sake stop being so naïve,’ Gail said. ‘He’s seventeen. And not only
