(I would have posted part 7 a lot earlier, but then I went and finished part 8 first.  So here they are together.)

May 2003

The plan finally went into motion on the second Friday in May.  By then, GCSEs had already started- Natalie and Abbie had had a French Listening exam that morning- but now it was the weekend and they were free.  They met on the edge of Crowe’s Wood, just across the road from Sainsbury’s, and then they walked through the woods to meet their destinies.

The sky was just beginning to get dark.  A hush had fallen over the wood, as the daytime creatures gradually stepped aside to give the nocturnal ones their turn, and everything around them, animal and plant alike, seemed to be whispering in case somebody nearby was trying to get to sleep.  David took a deep breath, savouring the night air.  “Beautiful, isn’t it?”

Natalie looked around, and had to agree.  At night, Crowe’s Wood turned into a mysterious, primeval forest straight out of every nightmare you’d ever had and every fairytale you’d ever heard.  And she’d never have been here, in this particular time and place, if it hadn’t been for her friends.

“I don’t get why we spend so much time trying to get away from nature.  Hiding from the sky…  Trying to convince ourselves that we’re supposed to smell of spices and chemicals…”

Johnny laughed.  “Well, they’ve got to convince us to consume more stuff somehow…”

“Too right!” came a shout from behind.  This was Daisy Sparrow, who was a friend of Amelia’s from another school.  She looked a bit like a cartoon- small, round and enthusiastic, with big glasses and almost canary-yellow hair.  Natalie hadn’t met her before, but she was growing to like her.  “Like the adverts plastered around the bus stop.  I’m trying to catch a bus, I don’t care about what brand of L’Oréal Neutrogena some random model uses!”

Abbie smiled, and said sweetly, “But I’m sure she cares about you.”

They’d all managed to find little motors from one place or another- old toys, blenders and can openers their parents had thrown out, and one or two things smuggled out of the CDT classrooms.  Johnny was also carrying a string of lights, a little like the ones you got on Christmas trees.  “No use breaking our backs making this if the drivers can’t even see it,” he’d explained.

David was happily ambling along.  You got the impression that he’d be just as happy- no more, no less- if he was on his own.  “You know, I strongly believe that life is a naturally sexual and impulsive thing.”  He gave a gentle kick to a couple of pebbles.  “That’s why any attempts to restrict it…  They just lead to people’s minds being twisted.”

“And that’s where the paedophile priests come from,” said Amelia.

Natalie sighed.  “Not to mention all those fundamentalists in America.  With their revival tents and their purity balls…”

“Purity balls?” asked Amelia, raising an eyebrow.

“It’s something I read about on the internet.  It’s a party for girls who’ve promised not to have sex before marriage.  Only it’s set up like a wedding- the girls have to wear white dresses, and their dads give them rings.”  She grimaced.  “It’s set up like they’re marrying their fathers.”

Amelia made a delicate retching sound.

“Seriously?!” asked Abbie.

“Oh, yeah.  The girls make vows to their dads that they’ll save it for their wedding night, and the dads make vows to their daughters that they’ll do their best to protect their virginity.  Which would be fine if they meant acting out vigilante justice on any potential rapists, but what they actually mean is controlling every aspect of their daughters’ lives so that they don’t accidentally get a boyfriend.”

Johnny shuddered.  “And how many of those fathers do you think are secretly sneaking into their daughters’ rooms at night?”

“I don’t want to think about it.”  Natalie liked to think that she had a fairly decent relationship with her father, but if he ever bought her or her sisters rings and started banging on about protecting their virginity, she’d run screaming for the hills.  Luckily, it didn’t seem to be in his nature.  He had been a little snotty about some of Andrea’s boyfriends, but Andrea’s boyfriends tended to be a bunch of whiny manchildren, so that was fair enough.

“So that’s decided, then,” said Abbie, “We are never, ever going to America.”

“Damn straight,” said Amelia.

They stopped just short of the fence at the side of the road- no sense in the drivers seeing them this early- and gathered an armful of twigs each.  They’d all put on gloves before coming up here, even though Johnny didn’t think it was likely that anyone would dust a bunch of twigs for fingerprints.  Better safe than sorry, that was the consensus.

“I don’t see why we have to cover our tracks anyway,” muttered Abbie, knotting a length of twine around two twigs and a motor, “This wood’s supposed to be public property.  We’ve got as much right to be here as anyone else.”

Johnny snorted.  “Well, obviously not, if the council’s got the right to bulldoze it and none of us can stop them.”

David looked dreamily at his twigs.  He and Natalie had spent a few minutes trying to work out the right angle to get them to dance about in the right way, but they seemed to have cracked it now.  “It’s all artificial,” he told them, “The council only think they can bulldoze this wood because we let them think that.”

“Yeah,” said Natalie.

“I mean, we all come from the same reference point.  We’re all eaters of food and breathers of air.  We were all made when one random sperm hit an egg.  There’s no reason why any of us should put ourselves above each other.”

Sometimes, when David spoke, it was as if Natalie could feel herself floating in the air, up above anything that could bother her or bring her down.  Still, she had to say what was in her head.  “Yeah, but try telling that to the Prime Minister.”

David turned round, giving her a big, bright grin.  “I think someone should try telling that to the Prime Minister!  I think someone should try telling that to everyone in power!”

Daisy sighed.  “If more people thought like that, there would be no more war.”

It was darker now.  They had to be careful when they moved around, in case they tripped over randomly-placed roots and holes in the ground.  Soon it would be time to start putting things in place.

At one point, David went over to talk to Amelia, and Daisy, glancing after him, whispered, “Do you think he’s… conscious of his beauty?”

Natalie grinned.  “No way.  He’d be unbearable.”

“But… do you think he knows he’s special?  Or do you think he gets up in the morning, and goes about is day assuming that everyone else is just the same?”

Natalie thought about David, about how, when you first met him, he seemed like a normal, artsy boy, but then he’d come out with something that made him sound like a 500-year-old Buddhist monk.  She thought about how different life had seemed since she’d met him, almost as if the air had a different flavour to it.  She thought about how his smile made her heart feel as if it was going to explode.  “I don’t know,” she told Daisy, “I don’t think anyone really knows how they affect other people.  You’re too used to yourself- you don’t know what might be surprising everyone else.”

Daisy nodded, wide-eyed.  “That is so true.”

When it was time to go, they went quickly, fumbling a little in their movements.  They placed the twig models where they were meant to go, spread the banners carefully through their hands, and threw the lights up in the branches of the trees above them.  Then they set everything off and ran, going at a hundred miles an hour.  The whole thing had barely taken a minute, and they hadn’t looked at the road once.  If any of the drivers looked at them, if they made eye contact, they’d freeze in place and be easy pickings for anyone in authority.

After they’d got a safe distance away from the road, David led them to a road on the other side of the woods where they could get a good look at it.  As they approached it, Natalie felt her stomach turn upside down.  Something would have gone wrong.  The motors wouldn’t have gone off.  The twine would have broken and the models would have fallen apart.  Everything would have fallen out into the road and caused a massive traffic pile-up.

Instead, it was perfect.

From a distance, it really looked as if four of the trees had come to life and started doing a clumsy, jerky dance.  The lights shone above them, illuminating the sign.  SAVE CROWE’S WOOD, in letters big enough to be read fifty yards away.  Cars were slowing down to look at it.  Natalie’s heart was beating so hard that it felt as if it was going to break her ribs.

They all walked home.  It was too nice a night to get the bus.

About halfway back, David put a hand on Natalie’s shoulder.  “You know what?  I believe that everyone is born with a certain light.  A talent they have to share with the world.  It’s up to them to decide what to do with it, but everyone has it.”  He smiled.  “Natalie, you used your light to try and help people out of the pits they’ve trapped themselves in.  You should be very proud of that.”

And if Natalie had died at that exact moment, she’d have had no regrets whatsoever.

 

 

June 2005

Amelia had called everyone over to David’s place that Saturday.  In theory, it was for a bit of last-minute A-level study, but in practice, they were mostly just drinking Bacardi Breezers and trading gossip about people from school.  They all sat on the floor in the main room, with their notebooks in front of them for the look of the thing.

Abbie wasn’t there, so Johnny started talking about her.  “It’s as if it’s her only topic of conversation these days.  Squealing and drooling over boys like a twelve-year-old.  It’s embarrassing.”

Amelia laughed, and leaned back against the wall.  They’d pretty much had to sit on the floor, because there were five people here and David only had two chairs.  In fact, he hadn’t bought much furniture in general.  He said he’d been thinking of other things.

“I don’t see why it bothers you so much that Abbie fancies people,” muttered Natalie.

Johnny snorted.  “Listen to her talk sometime.  It’s all drooling and moaning over packages and trouser bulges.  It’s embarrassing to listen to.”

“That happened once.  And it was a joke.”  Natalie could feel her nerves being pulled taut, like an elastic band.  It seemed to happen every time she was in the same room as Johnny lately.

Amelia gave her a sagacious look over the top of her Bacardi bottle.  “I can tell who you’ve been hanging out with, Natalie.  If you think obsessing over trouser bulges is healthy.”

“I’m just telling the truth,” added Johnny, “If tummies are turned, boo hoo.”

“OK, I’m getting pretty sick of this…”  Natalie got to her feet, picking up her stuff.  She wasn’t completely sure that she wanted to leave, but she got the impression she was going to have to.

“Oh, right!” crowed Johnny, “And I thought you were the one who was all about free speech!”

“There’s a difference between ‘free speech’ and ‘being a smug little tosser’!”

A few feet away, David watched, deep in thought, as if he was assessing them so he could give them marks out of ten later.  Just next to him, Daisy had the exact opposite reaction.  “Guys!” she said, waving her arms, “Guys!  What’s with all the hate!”

Amelia ignored both of them.  “Natalie, just drop this subject before we start dissecting your bad habits.”

“Ooh, yeah, my bad habits.  Some of them are even worse than ‘occasionally fancying a boy’.”

Amelia rose to her feet.  “OK, Natalie, if you want me to come out and say it, I will.”  She put one hand on her hip, and used the other to point at Natalie’s face.  “I don’t think you’ve been you the last few months.  You open your mouth and I hear Mischa Lewis talking.”

“Like when?!”

“Oh, if only it mattered!” cried Daisy, rolling her eyes.

“You just called Johnny a smug little tosser!” snapped Amelia.

“Because he was being a smug little tosser!” said Natalie.

“Oh, if only it mattered!” cried Daisy, a bit louder this time.

Johnny frowned.  “I’m sitting right here…”

“Yeah, and you heard what I said the first time,” said Natalie.

“Oh!  I see!”

Daisy got up and got between them.  “Guys!  Guys!  Why are you taking all this so personally?  We’re friends, remember?”

Natalie looked at Johnny, and narrowed her eyes.  “Hmm.”

Daisy looked from Natalie to Amelia, and back again, and forth again.  “All this over a difference of opinion!” she proclaimed, shaking her arms again, “Since when did different beliefs make somebody less of a person?  Flinging around insults and losing your tempers…”

Amelia seemed to take this to heart.  She stopped scowling, shrugged, and sat back down.  After a moment or two, so did Natalie.  Daisy briefly looked as if she might insist on them shaking hands and apologising, but then she decided against it and went back to where she’d been sitting before.  Beside her, David still sat watching.  His expression hadn’t changed.  “There’s no reason to worry about Mischa Lewis, Amelia,” he said, “A-Levels will be finished in another two weeks.  After that, Natalie won’t need to spend time with her anymore.”

Natalie looked at the floor.  He hadn’t bothered to replace the old carpet, either.  It was worn nearly transparent in places.

“Right, Natalie?” said David.

She looked up.  “Maybe, maybe not.  Why do you care?”

Johnny made a noise like a wounded animal. “Oh, God, did she promise to give you a makeover or something?”  Amelia didn’t say anything, just rolled her eyes and made a disgusted face.

David sat on the carpet, his legs crossed like he thought he was Buddha.  “It can get to you, you know,” he said, in his usual tranquil voice, “Spend long enough swallowing your real opinions and accepting things, and you’ll start to forget there’s a real you under there at all.”

Natalie laughed.  “David, this is Mischa Lewis we’re talking about, not Hitler.”

Amelia raised her upper lip in an impressive sneer.  “I guess I just don’t like ignorance.”

“No,” said Natalie, meeting her gaze, “Me neither.”

“There’s plenty of people with cancer in the world, and most of them don’t have half the advantages Mischa Lewis has had.  Why don’t you try helping some little kid dying of leukaemia through no fault of their own instead of a girl who fried her skin on tanning beds for years and then wondered why her moles started changing colour?”

Natalie thought of Mischa’s pale pink complexion.  “What makes you think Mischa’s ever been near a tanning bed?”

“But no, apparently I’m evil because I don’t feel sorry for somebody who treated her body like a fucking garbage dump.”  Amelia was shouting now.  More than that, there was something about her voice that suggested she was about to burst into tears.

Johnny gave them a weary look.  “Hey, do you two think that maybe you could take your catfight somewhere else?”

Again, Amelia didn’t seem to hear this.  “Oh, I can ruin as many organs as I like!” she said in a plummy voice that didn’t sound anything like Mischa’s, “Mummy and Daddy will get me new ones!”

The words were out of Natalie’s mouth before she could properly think them through.  “Other people just aren’t real to you, are they, Amelia?  You fucking narcissist.”

Amelia recoiled, as if Natalie had slapped her.  Shocked, she looked around at the others, all of whom were sitting around in stunned silence.  No doubt about it-Natalie ad gone too far.  This was going to be bad.

It was David who spoke up.  The tranquillity had finally gone out of his voice.  “Natalie, back off.  You apologise to Amelia right now.”

“Bite me,” said Natalie, and walked out.

(To be continued)

(Posting this in lieu of the next page of “Woe to the Giant,” which should go up tomorrow.)

May 2005 

Sometimes Natalie hung around for an hour or so after giving Mischa her homework.  It made more sense to get started on it straight away than to wear herself out walking home and then only be in the mood for watching TV.  Besides, Mischa’s room was quite a nice, restful place, with its rose patterns and perfume smell.  It could calm you down after a hard day at school.

“What are you doing for the “How To” coursework?” asked Mischa, who was sat cross-legged on the floor with a laptop resting on her knees.  She was thinner now, but her hair was the same as ever.  Unless her parents had just managed to find her a really convincing wig.

“Um…  ‘How to Be In An Indie Band.’”  Natalie flicked through the course booklet, trying to find the page that went with the notes she’d made earlier.  “You know, lyrics, musical style, how to avoid obnoxious fans….”

“Aw, I wish I could think of something interesting like that.  All I can think of is boring stuff like ‘How to Change A Lightbulb.’”

Natalie folded back the corner of the page she wanted.  “Well, they won’t mark you down for being boring.  If anything, they’re more likely to mark you down for trying to be interesting in the wrong way.”  That was what Johnny had found out when he’d tried to write an essay about Anton LaVey in RE.

“Yeah, but I wish I could think of something that stands out, you know?”  Mischa rested her cheek on her hand.  “Something that goes the extra mile.”

“Well…  You could always write something like, ‘How to Get All Your A-Level Coursework In On Time While Also Going Through Chemotherapy.’”

Mischa’s face twisted, as if she’d just tasted something sour.  “As if.  They’d just think I was going for the sympathy vote.”

“Hey, you want to get into Durham, don’t you?”  Natalie smiled.  “I say use every weapon you’ve got.”

Mischa snort-laughed, and looked back down at her notes.

Natalie glanced at the gossip magazines on her bedside table.  There always seemed to be a new one around.  They creeped Natalie out a bit- it was something to do with the sticky-sweaty finish there always was on the front cover, and something to do with the way they spoke about famous people as if they were a bunch of melodramatic thirteen-year-olds, constantly thinking up ways to spite their exes or steal their rivals’ thunder.  She’d mentioned that to Mischa once, and she’d just said that you had to imagine the whole thing was a soap opera.  “Or you could use these as inspiration.  ‘How to Go Through A Divorce If You’re Famous.’”

Mischa laughed.  “‘How Not to Marry Tom Cruise’…”

*

That Friday, everyone ended up in Amelia’s living room after school.  They lolled all over the sofa and carpet like beached jellyfish, flicking through the music channels as they recovered from a hard week at school.  The only ones with the energy to talk at the moment were Abbie and Daisy, who were sitting closest to the TV.  Abbie’s History class had gone on a trip to the V&A the previous week, and she was still full of stories about it.  “It’s amazing.  All those Ancient Greek statues with their perfectly-carved muscles, and then you look between their legs…”  She bit her lip in a cartoonish way.

Daisy grinned.  “Not so much in the boner department?”

“Not much of a package, no.  Maybe the sculptors got too embarrassed and rushed it.”

“Uh-huh,” said Johnny, sourly, “And that’s all you got from the Victoria and Albert Museum?”

Daisy didn’t seem to have heard that.  “Not many hotties in Ancient Greece, then?”

“Well, no…” said Abbie, “But then again, if there were, it would be necrophilia, wouldn’t it?”

Amelia gave a low chuckle.  “This conversation started on the wrong foot, and the gutter seems deeper than expected.”  She lay back on the sofa as if she was preparing to go to sleep.

Johnny hadn’t taken his eyes off Abbie and D0aisy.  “Seriously, how old are you two?  You need to get out more.”

Cowed, Abbie and Daisy stopped talking.  The group of them flicked through a few more music channels before settling on an Alien Ant Farm video that Natalie hadn’t seen before.  The video showed the band performing on a rooftop outside something called “The BET Awards,” while people like Nelly and Eve looked up, amused.

Johnny pointed at the screen.  “Most talent in the whole event,” he declared.

“Too right!” said Amelia, coming back to life, “A hundred percent real, too.  Look at all the posers below!”  The screen now showed Snoop Dogg and Li’l Kim, plus a couple of other people Natalie didn’t recognise.  “They’re all looking up and thinking, ‘Oh, so this is what real music sounds like!’”

Daisy let out a loud, honking laugh.  “Yeah- ‘Oh, it’s not talking about hoes and bitches, and encouraging kids to join gangs?  Is that even allowed?’”

Johnny snickered.  Apparently Daisy was forgiven.

“When I hear shit like that, I think, ‘Thank God there are golddiggers in this world, who can fleece guys like that in their sleep!’”

“Amen!” said Amelia.

Daisy had got into a rhythm.  “They’re so shit, shitter than shit, so shit, heaps shit, so much shit that I wish they would get cancer and die just so they’ll stay the hell away from my TV screen and radio!”

Johnny gave her a funny look.  “Er…”

“Whoops, bad karma!”  Daisy giggled.  “But they’re so shit!  What is wrong with people these days?  They’re the shit ones!”

Amelia settled back on the sofa, hunching her shoulders up so that her head could settle comfortably.  “Oh yeah, Natalie, speaking of cancer…”

The others all burst into scandalised laughter.

“What?” snapped Natalie.

“I don’t know why you’re bothering, really,” Amelia said airily, “When has Mischa Lewis ever cared about her grades?”

Natalie thought about how pleased Mischa had been when she’d suggested bringing her her homework.  OK, it had been because she was bored, but still.  “You don’t know the first thing about it, Amelia.”

Johnny snorted.  “Oh, charming…”

“Hey, whoa.”  Amelia held up a hand.  “I think it’s very kind of you, what you’re doing.  I just don’t want to see you taken advantage of.”

She smiled, and Natalie couldn’t help but smile back.  “Well, I’m not.”

“Good!”  Amelia went back to watching TV.

*

Abbie offered to drive Natalie home.  She’d only been able to drive for a couple of months, so the car still had that smell, all new and you-are-not-worthy.  Abbie sat in the driving seat, wearing her waistcoat and sensible trousers, and almost looked like a responsible adult.  It was a worrying sight.  It reminded Natalie that they only really had a month of school left.  In six months’ time, they’d have all scattered to the winds.

Natalie had spent the last five minutes trying to think of ways to start this conversation.  Eventually, she decided just to be direct.  “Johnny was being a real dick to you earlier.”

Abbie adjusted the mirror.  “Yeah…  Well, you know what he’s like.”

Natalie did know what he was like.  That didn’t mean she had to excuse it.  “Seriously, what harm does it do to him if you make dirty jokes now and then?”

Abbie glanced at her.  “I don’t know…  He had a point.  We were being a bit immature.”

“So?  Everyone acts a bit immature now and then.  Who’s he to elect himself the sole authority on who can joke about what?”

Abbie grinned.  “If you ask me, he just doesn’t want us discussing any penis that’s not his.”

Natalie chuckled.  “I’m sorry I didn’t say anything.”

“Nah, you’re OK,” said Abbie.  But just because she said it didn’t mean that Natalie had to agree.

(To Be Continued)