Three
Not long afterwards, Charlie and his parents moved away. Beth wasn’t surprised when she heard the news, she figured maybe they just couldn’t cope with living so close to the place where they’d nearly lost him.
He came to see Beth on his last day. ‘I’ve not got long, they’re just finishing packing up the van.’
‘Is it weird seeing all the stuff coming out of your house?’ Beth couldn’t imagine leaving the home she’d known all her life.
‘Yeah. It’s rubbish. They packed my BMX first, stupid idiots.’
‘Well you’ll get it back when you get to your new house,’ she tried to reassure him.
‘I know. But … for God’s sake. It’s jammed into the back of the van now. How thick are they?’ Charlie seemed unduly upset about his bike.
‘What do you mean?’
‘Oh, I don’t know. I’d like to ride it now, I guess.’
‘Are you sad that you’re going?’
‘Duh? What do you think?’
Beth stared at the ground. ‘Sorry.’
Charlie folded his arms and sighed. ‘I don’t even get why we have to go. It’s bloody miles away.’
‘It’s your dad’s job, isn’t it?’
‘Uh huh. But …’
‘What?’
‘He had a perfectly good job here. They said it’s a fresh start or something. But I don’t want to leave Tennison Avenue.’
Beth was worried. Charlie looked tearful, and she’d never seen a boy cry before. What was she supposed to do? Tentatively, she put her arm around him and gave a squeeze. ‘I think it’s hard for them … you know, living here. Because … you …’
‘But I’m fine. I didn’t die. If I can still be here, why can’t they?’
Beth was pleased. He was so in tune with her, there had been no need for her to say the words. ‘They were very upset. It’s what they want.’
Unexpectedly, Charlie stamped his foot. ‘What about me? What about what I want? I don’t wanna leave you …’ Seeing her surprise, he quickly added, ‘Or Michelle. You’re my friends.’
She wasn’t sure what to say. She liked Charlie. He was funny. She was going to miss him. But it wasn’t as bad as if she were losing Michelle. Michelle had always been the more important of her two friends. Deciding to try to be positive, she patted him gently on the back and said, ‘You’ll make friends at your new house and school. Maybe there’ll be boys you can play football with or something.’ She tried an encouraging smile.
He stared into the distance. ‘I don’t want them. I want …’
‘Your mum’s waving at us.’
‘Huh?’
‘Turn around. Look. Your mum’s trying to get your attention.’
‘Bloody hell!’ Charlie stamped his foot again.
His mum held the dog’s lead in one hand, with the other she signalled ‘five minutes’.
Charlie looked more than ever as if he was about to cry. ‘They’re putting Dylan in the car. I don’t have long.’
‘I guess not.’ She was sorry for him. ‘Listen, you can write to me,’ she offered. ‘Let me know your new address and I’ll write back.’
‘OK.’
‘I’ll miss Dylan. He’s a lovely dog. So clever.’
‘Yeah. I taught him to give me his paw last week. I didn’t even get the chance to show you.’ Charlie pouted.
The more annoyed Charlie became, the more Beth felt uncomfortable. ‘Um … do you think we ought to knock at Michelle’s?’ She knew Michelle would want to say goodbye, and hopefully she’d know what to do to stop Charlie from crying, if and when he started.
‘Yeah. If you like.’ He scraped his trainers along the pavement as they walked to their friend’s house.
Just before they began making their way down Michelle’s path, Charlie unexpectedly stopped in his tracks and grabbed Beth’s hand. Mumbling, ‘Thanks for being my friend, Campbell,’ he kissed her clumsily on the cheek.
It wasn’t like him at all, it was different to anything he’d done before; Beth was totally gobsmacked. Unsure of what to do, she chose to do nothing. In silence, they resumed walking, and within seconds they’d reached the front step. Beth rang the bell and Michelle opened the door almost immediately.
‘I’m here to say goodbye, you bloody wally.’ Charlie punched Michelle playfully on the arm.
‘Tragic!’ Michelle replied.
And, just like that, the unfamiliar Charlie was gone. Beth watched as, before her eyes, he switched back to his usual self.
To cheer her up at the departure of her friend, Nanna gave Beth a couple of pounds to treat herself. After much deliberation, she decided to buy a pack of temporary tattoos from Woolworths.
Although usually a lover of all things pink, Beth was somehow persuaded by Lisa to try something different. The tattoos she bought were black, and the designs were a selection of skulls, snakes and daggers.
Later, in Michelle’s bedroom, Beth and Michelle used a wet flannel to stick the tattoos to their skin. Starting with just one each, they somehow got carried away, until before they knew it they were squeezing as many tattoos as was humanly possible onto their skinny arms. Convinced they must look cool, they had no idea that once they’d finished they resembled a couple of dockers.
Noticing the time, Beth said, ‘I’d better go before your mum comes back.’ She wasn’t keen on Michelle’s mum. Mrs Grant wasn’t welcoming like her mum or Nanna. She was the kind of woman to complain about the smallest amount of mess and make you take your shoes off, even if there wasn’t a scrap of mud on them.
‘I think she’s gone to the CO-OP. She’ll be ages yet.’ Michelle was beginning to regret the tattoos and she didn’t want her friend to go.
Not convinced, Beth opened the bedroom door. ‘Even so, I’d better get home.’
Coming down the stairs, the girls were horrified to bump into Michelle’s mum.
She barged through the front door, laden down with numerous carrier bags. ‘What the hell have you two done?’ Her mouth was pinched in. It reminded Beth of the rubber tea towel holders at Nanna’s house.
Caught off guard, and with no time to cover the offending articles, Michelle became flustered. ‘Um … they’re tattoos, Mum. They’re not real though.’ Her eyes darted from her mum to her friend.
‘I should hope they’re not real. They look as common as muck.’ Michelle’s mum’s favourite expression was ‘common as muck’. ‘Get them off!’ Dropping the bags, she began rubbing at her daughter’s arms with the flat of her hand.
Michelle squealed. ‘Ouch. You’re hurting!’
Beth tried to explain, ‘They come off if you wash them, Mrs Grant. You don’t need to ‒’
‘Do not tell me what I need to do, child!’ Unbelievably, Michelle’s mum took a swing at Beth.
Beth’s family didn’t believe in hitting children; this reaction shocked her. She stepped back.
Michelle’s mum dragged her poor daughter by the afore mentioned arms into the kitchen. Unsure of what to do, Beth decided to follow, which could possibly be described as a brave act.
Reaching for a scouring pad, one of the ones that’s spongy on one side and green on the other, Michelle’s mum began scrubbing at her daughter’s arms with the dry abrasive side.
Michelle screamed as her arms instantly became inflamed.
‘Whose idea was it to buy these?’ her mum asked.
Michelle was sobbing, she was in no fit state to reply. Beth gave the answer. ‘It was mine. I had some money and ‒’
‘Do you think this is a good idea?’
Of course, what she meant was, did Beth think it was a good idea to buy temporary tattoos shaped like skulls and snakes, and plaster them all up their arms. That was, no doubt, her intended question.
But Beth was confused, she thought Michelle’s mum was asking an entirely different question. ‘No, I don’t. I think you’re a mean old cow, and I don’t think you should be scrubbing like that.’
‘HOW BLOODY DARE YOU?’ Again, Michelle’s mum took a swipe. This time, her slap came extremely close to Beth’s face.
Beth decided that being there with that mad woman wasn’t for her. Turning, she ran towards the front door. Yanking it open, she made her way out into the street. Like a kidnap victim fleeing her captives, she ran the five house distance in record time and raced down the side of their house.
Nanna was in the kitchen. As Beth crashed through the back door, like a bat out of hell, their old washing machine was dancing its way around the room. Nanna started to reprimand her granddaughter, ‘Don’t come in this way, I’m trying to sort out your mum’s wash …’ But spotting Beth’s face, she instantly asked, ‘What on earth has happened?’
As soon as Beth began to explain, Nanna was out of the house and on Mrs Grant’s front step.
‘What the devil’s got into you, Doreen?’ she demanded.
‘I’ve no idea what you’re talking about.’
‘No idea? Well that doesn’t surprise me, you’re not known around here for your brains.’
‘I beg your pardon?’
‘You heard me.’
‘How bloody rude.’
‘You’d know all about rude,’ Nanna scoffed. ‘I remember you as a child. A right little madam you were, even then. Your mother had to take you everywhere twice.’
‘What do you mean by that?’
‘The second time was to apologise!’
‘How dare you? I don’t have to stand here and ‒’
‘Listen, Doreen,’ Nanna cut in. ‘Beth’s just told me you’ve been scrubbing your daughter’s arms with a scouring pad.’
‘Yes. I have. Because that stupid child stuck disgusting tattoos to her skin. Those girls looked like workmen. There were skulls and ‒’
‘Oh please, do stop. They’re temporary! And I’ll thank you not to call Beth stupid. She’s only ten and she already knows what you were doing was ridiculously over the top.’
Michelle’s mum’s face was a picture. She was no match for Nanna.
Without seeming to draw breath, Nanna continued, ‘Everyone knows the best way to remove those tattoos is to give the child a warm, soapy bath, let her soak her arms, then give them a gentle rub.’
‘I … I …’
‘And the most important thing, if you ever, I mean EVER, try to slap my granddaughter again, you’ll have a bloody good fight on your hands. Do you hear me?’
Beth took that to mean Nanna would slap Mrs Grant – marvellous! Throughout the entire conversation, Michelle’s mum stood, shell-shocked, her mouth hanging open. Every attempt to interrupt was thwarted by Nanna.
Once she’d made her point, Nanna didn’t wait around to hear any more of Doreen’s nonsense. Taking her granddaughter’s arm, she quickly led her back down the path.
As they heard the front door slam behind them, Beth asked, ‘Would you really slap her if she hurt me, Nanna?’
‘You bet your sweet life I would, Butch.’