The Alibi Girl. C.J. Skuse

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      He yanks my plait and wiggles Foy’s bun and we both laugh and then he rides off like he’s on his horsey, which makes us laugh even more. ‘I won’t be long.’

      Chelle’s not laughing.

      Me and Foy have cheese burgers and chips and strawberry milkshakes and scoff them greedily as Chelle sits taking the ice out of her Coke and placing it in the ashtray.

      ‘How many Easter eggs have you got?’ Foy asks between red-saucy mouthfuls.

      ‘I don’t know. Dad packed them in my case to give to Chelle.’

      ‘We’ve got to buy some, Ellis,’ says Chelle. ‘He didn’t get round to it. As usual.’

      ‘Oh right.’

      ‘We’ll nip to Woolworths on our way to the car. And I must do the bank.’

      ‘Maybe that’s what his errand was?’ I suggest.

      ‘I doubt it,’ Chelle smiles, stealing a couple of Dad’s untouched chips. ‘Woolworths is nowhere near the betting shop, is it?’

      ‘I don’t know.’

      ‘Anyway, never mind him. What would you like to do this holiday, Miss?’

      This is my favourite bit of any holiday – the bit before it all begins. She leans forwards, like she’s telling us both a great big secret. ‘Everything,’ I say, licking at the dried line of tangy ketchup around my mouth. ‘I want to do everything!’

      ‘Right, well, we’re doing our Easter egg hunt on Sunday and then we’ll all go for a ride out in the country to that nice tea place and have poached eggs and soldiers—’

      ‘Yeah!’ says Foy. ‘They have a wicked climbing frame there, bigger than the castle. And they’ve got the dogs we played with last time, remember?’

      I do remember, every second of it. One of the dogs had a thorn in its paw and we reported it to the lady and she gave us a free scone each.

      ‘And then we can go asparagus picking up the farm on Monday, cos there’ll be nothing open in town. And the boys will be around so I’ve asked if they’ll take you out flying kites again, or maybe some fishing down at the stream. How about that?’

      I’m so excited I could burst but I settle for kicking my heels against my chair.

      ‘Can they take us to the cinema as well?’ asks Foy.

      ‘Yes, I’m sure they can,’ says Chelle, sipping her Coke and looking at the time.

      ‘We can go to that burger place they took us to last time,’ I say. ‘Where we got the free Frisbees.’ The Frisbees that kept going over the beer garden wall into the stream and Isaac had to keep climbing over the wall to fish them out.

      Paddy and Isaac are the two best boy cousins I could ask for. Isaac’s fifteen and sporty, and always working out on the machines in the old stable behind the cellar. Paddy’s twelve and he’s more into art and styling his hair. Isaac’ll be starting his GCSEs soon. I hope he still has time to chase us around the car park on the bikes.

      ‘Can we have chicken pie and mash one night please, Auntie Chelle?’

      ‘I don’t see why not.’

      I love it when that’s the answer.

      ‘And chocolate sponge and alien sauce?’ says Foy.

      ‘Yeah, baby! Oh that reminds me, I’ve got to nip in the comic shop and pick up Stuart’s birthday present.’

      ‘What is it?’

      Chelle rolls her eyes. ‘His dream Tardis.’

      ‘Not a big Tardis though,’ says Foy. ‘A little one with a little Doctor Who inside and a Dalek and it plays the theme tune when you open the door.’

      ‘He’s had his eye on it for a while,’ says Chelle.

      ‘Can I buy him something as well?’ I ask. ‘Maybe a Doctor Who comic?’

      ‘Yeah he’d love that. Do you want me to look after your pocket money?’

      ‘Dad’s looking after it for me.’

      ‘Okay,’ she smiles, looking towards the door as a family with pushchairs struggle in out of the rain. ‘How is he at the moment, sweetheart?’

      ‘He’s okay.’

      ‘How much did he get for the car in the end, do you know?’

      Foy dances her little unicorn pencil topper along my arm. ‘How much?’

      ‘Yeah. He’s sold it, hasn’t he? That’s why you came on the train.’

      ‘He said it was having a service today.’

      ‘Ah, right. My mistake. Finish your burger, love.’

      All the ice in Dad’s drink melts and his chips go cold so Chelle tips them in the trash. He sends a text to Chelle that he’ll meet us at the car at 3 p.m. instead. So we do Woolworths for the eggs and Chelle banks the takings at NatWest and me and Foy steal armfuls of leaflets for our bank, which the castle doubles up as sometimes.

      We’re back at the car by 2.55 p.m., but Dad isn’t there. By 3.15 p.m. we’ve played I-Spy, Yellow Car, the memory game, and Foy and me have planned all the things we’re going to do in the castle when we get back – first paint the walls, then we must clean the carpet and deadhead the window box. Then play Banks. And then we have to do a supermarket run because the dinosaurs are getting low on tins of Jurassic Chum.

      At 3.25 p.m. Chelle puts another hour on the car cos there’s still no sign of him.

      ‘I’m sorry, hon, I know he’s your dad but he does my bloody head in sometimes. Why is he so unreliable?’ she huffs. ‘There’s nothing consistent about him at all.’

      Foy picks up Miss Whiskers and makes her growl and roar around Chelle’s neck until she reacts, turning round in the driver’s seat and swatting it away.

      ‘Will you stop that, please? I’m not in the mood.’

      Then we see Dad coming.

      ‘Uh-oh,’ says Foy, and Auntie Chelle slams the driver’s door when she gets out. Me and Foy laugh at first but then we see her shouting at him and they both stand in front of the car, him being barked at like a stranger at the gate. Foy winds down the back window so we can hear what they’re saying. Chelle’s patting down his jacket and she wrenches something out of his grasp and holds it up – small pieces of paper.

      ‘Can’t fucking stay away from them, can you? You utter loser.’

      We aren’t laughing then. The F word makes Foy go quiet and then cry.

      I hold her hand. She grips mine tightly.

      ‘She СКАЧАТЬ