We Come Apart Read online

  He nods again. ‘I get you, Jess.’

  ‘Then you give the cards to me,

  and I’ll sell ’em on to

  the people at the ticket machines

  for half of what they’d usually pay.

  Right?’

  He gives two thumbs up. ‘Right, Jess.’

  And then we get going,

  blagging tickets,

  selling them on,

  making a fiver a time

  until I’ve got fifty quid

  in the back pocket of my jeans

  and Nicu has two spare

  Travelcards to get us into London.

  So we take the Tube,

  the Piccadilly Line all the way to Leicester Square,

  and from there straight into

  Häagen-Dazs, where I order the fattest cone

  they’ve got and four scoops of

  cookie dough ice cream.

  ‘What do you want?’ I ask Nicu.

  ‘I want same as you, Jess,’ he says,

  eyes so fixed on my face that

  I blush.

  ‘All time same as you.’

  RHINO HANDS

  Metal collecting give Tata dirt and oil hands,

  like rhino skin.

  I can’t to keep eyes off those rhino hands.

  Mămică stand behind

  with palms in pray position.

  It like

  Heaven and Hell

  are standing in living room.

  Tata have two photo picture,

  one for each dirt hand.

  I scare to look.

  Mămică and Tata have sunbeam on their faces.

  ‘We’ve found her, Nicu,’ Mămică say.

  ‘Well, we’re down to the last two,’ Tata say. ‘Two lovely girls.’

  He holding these two lovely girls up to my eyes.

  ‘Have a look, Nicu, and tell us who’s your favourite,’ Mămică say.

  ‘I’ve spoken to both families. They’re happy with what I’ve offered them.’

  ‘So it’s down to you now, son.’

  Right rhino thrust:

  ‘She’s called Ana-Maria.’

  Left rhino thrust:

  ‘She’s called Florica.’

  I look

  at both photos

  with concentrate.

  But I seeing only

  Jess.

  Liam

  Nicu flicks my ear and I scream out,

  try to give him a dead leg

  and we bust our arses laughing

  until a shadow appears over us.

  ‘Jess?’

  It’s Liam.

  He’s got a bit of a goatee,

  brown with flecks of ginger,

  but he looks good.

  As usual.

  ‘You all right?’ he says.

  I feel Nicu watching,

  wondering who this bloke is,

  this mad-good-looking bloke

  who can get any girl he wants.

  ‘I heard you got nicked,’ Liam says.

  ‘It was ages ago, Liam.’

  ‘Yeah.’

  He pulls out a packet of fags and offers me one.

  I take it

  and we walk away,

  Nicu’s eyes burning into my back.

  I feel them,

  and I wish he wouldn’t do it –

  look at me like that all the time –

  like I’m

  Someone.

  ‘Where the hell have you been?’ I ask Liam.

  ‘It’s been over a year for fuck’s sake.

  You didn’t even tell me you were going

  and now

  it’s a nightmare at home.

  You have to come back.’

  Liam shakes his head,

  flicks ash at some flowers.

  ‘Terry still around?’

  I nod.

  ‘Still knocking Mum about?’

  I nod again.

  ‘Way worse than ever.

  You’ve gotta come home, Liam.

  He’ll kill her

  if you don’t come back.’

  Liam looks up at the sun.

  Right into it.

  ‘I got my own problems, Jess.

  Leila’s pregnant.’

  Leila,

  the girl on the estate

  who did drug runs for everyone?

  That Leila?

  ‘I’m living with her over in Tottenham now.

  You could visit,

  if you want.

  Sometime.

  That’s what I wanted to say.

  I wanna see you more.

  I mean,

  I wanna see you again.

  I feel like a total dick for leaving,

  but I couldn’t stay.

  Someone would have ended up dead.’

  ‘OK.’

  ‘Council gave us a flat.’

  I look up at the sky myself

  but the sun’s gone –

  heavy clouds hang low overhead.

  He roots around in his pocket and pulls out a tenner,

  stuffs it into my hand.

  ‘I’ll see you around, yeah.

  I’ll call you,’ he says.

  But I know he won’t call.

  ‘Who was heart throb?’ Nicu asks

  when I walk back.

  ‘Mind your business, Nicu,’ I say,

  and punch him in the arm,

  when what I really want

  is for him

  to give me hug.

  THE CHANGING PLACE

  Teacher of P.E.

  blows whistle,

  scream my way,

  ‘Come on, son, toughen up!’

  I rubbing my knee because some idiot dick

  kick it hard on the purpose.

  P.E. teacher does fast walking to my direction,

  swinging arms,

  steam in ears.

  My knee blinks with pain.

  ‘What is it?’ he say when closer.

  ‘My knee hurting,’ I say.

  ‘What?’

  ‘My knee.’ I try to tell to his ears and eyes.

  But P.E. teacher don’t care of my agony.

  ‘If you knew the difference between a ball and a kebab then maybe you wouldn’t get yourself hurt,’ he say.

  ‘Yes, sir.’

  Asad and Bilal look at grass.

  Dan and mates do evil stare.

  ‘Get up off your arse,’ teacher say.

  Red come to my face.

  Fists get tight.

  No reply.

  Instead

  I fast run to changing room.

  P.E. teacher screaming more until I hear fading in his voice,

  like I run inside cave.

  After what happen in changing room

  I don’t do more football lessons.

  After what happen in changing room

  I don’t want to go to school.

  After what happen in changing room

  big part in my heart

  think Tata could be right when he say:

  ‘People here will never accept us.

  They treat us like animals.’

  But other part in my heart

  think not all people see us like that.

  Jess, for number one,

  because she tell to me,

  ‘The way I see it, if you’re a dick, you’re a dick,

  so it doesn’t matter what country you come from.’

  But Dan definitely disagreeing with Jess

  because

  in changing room

  he call me,

  ‘a filthy, fucking thief,’

  as he can’t to find

  his pen.

  His pen with words Chelsea Football Club on it.

  One mate with neck muscle say,

  ‘I bet he nicked it,

  when he pissed off from football earlier, Dan.’

  Two mate with the punk rock hair say,

  ‘They’d rob from the


  blind given half the chance.’

  But I not know what he mean.

  Three mate with fat belly say,

  ‘Yeah, my old man’s right about them lot.’

  But I never one time meet his old man.

  Dan and crew make the circle around me.

  I try to put my sock on

  but Punk Rock Hair

  yank it

  from my toe

  and try to

  throw on top of locker.

  It miss

  and hit wet floor.

  Neck Muscle say,

  ‘You should do him, Dan.’

  Punk Rock Hair say,

  ‘Break his nose.’

  Fat Belly say,

  ‘Or his fingers.’

  Then all I hear is

  RA

  RA

  RA

  because every boy shout in

  my face,

  so very close that I feeling their

  mouth spit as it hit my

  cheek

  chin

  eye

  ear.

  Then another great

  yank come.

  Massive yank on my hair.

  Dan’s hand is

  strong and mighty.

  My head is pull back,

  my eyes see roof,

  my heart like music:

  Boom!

  Boom!

  Boom!

  Dan come close like maybe he want to

  kiss.

  ‘If I find out you robbed my Chelsea pen,

  you stinking gyppo twat,

  I’m going to slice you

  from here

  to here.’

  He do finger line across face

  from ear

  past cheek and mouth

  to destination other ear.

  ‘Got it?’ he say.

  ‘Got it,’ I say soft.

  But I don’t

  got it,

  his stupid football pen.

  ‘Right, come on, lads,’ Dan say.

  Before leaving changing room

  Fat Belly kick my knee.

  The sore shoots

  between my legs,

  but I stay silence.

  Neck Muscle sniff up until his face become red,

  his mouth full.

  He spit

  on side of my head.

  But I again silence.

  Punk Rock Hair do nothing,

  laughs only.

  Still I silence

  while

  my blood boiling with angry

  and violence.

  After they going

  I pick up my

  sogging sock.

  The toe part is dry

  so I use for towel

  my eye sockets

  and

  clean Neck Muscle spit

  from my head.

  As I leaning to pick up bag

  I spy it.

  Like long plastic cigarette

  lying dead under bench.

  I roll it over with my

  toe,

  all the way

  until Chelsea Football Club shine

  up at me.

  On the Grass

  Ally Pally again.

  But not to skate,

  just to sit up there

  and watch London

  spread out below us like an untouchable 3D map.

  ‘Weird, isn’t it?’ I say.

  Nicu is next to me on the grass

  pulling apart dead leaves.

  ‘What so weird?’ he asks.

  ‘I dunno.

  Just that there are millions of

  people in London,

  and everyone thinking they’re so important.

  But if,

  like,

  a giant came along

  and

  squashed them,

  hardly anyone would care.

  Everything would go on as normal.’

  ‘News reporting would care,’ Nicu says.

  He cups his hands over his mouth,

  making his voice dramatic.

  ‘Killer giant squash all citizens in London.’

  I laugh.

  ‘Yeah, but you get what I mean?’

  He is silent. Maybe he doesn’t understand.

  Sometimes it’s like that,

  and not just cos of the language.

  He rests a hand on my knee.

  ‘You meaning we not important, Jess.

  You wrong.

  We both very important

  enough.’

  THREE SEATS

  Tata is not computer man.

  I showing him much times

  how to delete

  his

  Internet History Browse.

  Tata is not strong student.

  When I get computer

  time,

  it not the

  sexy site

  Tata looking at

  that

  shivers up my skin.

  Skin shivers begin

  when I see

  the buying of

  three seats

  to Cluj-Napoca.

  Three seats to take us away

  from

  here.

  Three seats in three weeks.

  To take me away from

  Jess.

  Accused

  I see it happen.

  I mean I’m standing right there.

  And what happens is

  nothing.

  One hundred per cent

  zero.

  Meg is taking her books out of her locker,

  moaning about some physics test,

  when Nicu walks by,

  brushes her with his bag,

  and she turns

  like a wild cat,

  like a witch,

  and pushes him against the opposite wall.

  ‘Did you just touch my arse?’ she shouts

  in his face

  and loud enough for the whole

  corridor to hear her.

  ‘What’s going on?’ my form teacher,

  Ms Allen, wants to know,

  coming out of her classroom.

  ‘He touched me, Miss,’ Meg says,

  and starts to cry,

  like,

  proper tears.

  ‘I not touched her,’ Nicu says.

  He holds up his hands

  as if the truth were written

  on to his palms.

  ‘No, he didn’t,’ I say.

  I stand forward.

  I stand up

  for Nicu for the first time.

  ‘Yes, he did,’ Meg says,

  and gives me a glare.

  A warning.

  I look away so she enlists Shawna and Liz.

  ‘Didn’t he?

  You saw him.’

  They nod,

  and if Ms Allen

  wasn’t standing right there

  I’d claw them both.

  ‘Right, everyone, come with me,’ Ms Allen says.

  Her face is flushed,

  with pleasure, I think;

  she likes a good crisis.

  ‘But Nicu didn’t do it,’ I repeat.

  And

  as though

  Meg’s conjured him up using black magic,

  Dan appears.

  Great.

  ‘What’s happening?’ he asks.

  ‘Him. He touched my arse,’ Meg says.

  Tears again.

  Sobs.

  Choking sounds

  I’ve never heard from her before,

  not even when her nan died

  last year.

  ‘Yeah, a thief and a perv,’ Dan says.

  ‘A little dickie bird told me he was on some

  youth offenders’ thing.’

  He turns to Nicu.

  ‘Rape you were done for,

  weren’t it, mate?’

  Students slow down in the corridor –

 
stare and smirk

  like it’s some show at the O2.

  Ms Allen’s way out of her depth now.

  ‘He. Didn’t. Touch. Meg,’ I say.

  Dan puts his mouth to my ear as Ms Allen

  tries to calm Meg down.

  ‘That don’t matter, Jess,’ he whispers.

  ‘What matters is that everyone thinks he did.’

  INNOCENT

  It is filth lie what they say to me,

  filth lie.

  I do no arse touch

  or

  what Dan accuse.

  I can’t to prove

  because I have no words for

  defend myself.

  So

  I stand like stupid man in the train lights,

  listening to Jess

  doing

  my defending.

  Then I can’t be stupid man no more.

  I bolt away from all voices,

  down long corridor,

  past canteen

  and find

  my comfort.

  In library.

  The Right Thing

  Meg says, ‘Oh my God,

  did you see his face, though?

  Classic.’

  And they all crack up laughing

  like an army of idiots.

  I know there’s nothing

  I can do

  to make them

  more human,

  but at least,

  for once,

  I didn’t stand and watch

  like someone had his hands around

  my throat,

  stopping me from speaking

  out.

  For the first time in my life

  I did the

  right thing.