Junk - Melvin Burgess [93]
‘He can’t be at the bus station, he hasn’t got any money,’ I said.
Sandra said, ‘We’d better check my purse and your wallet.’ I just looked at her, but she was right, he was desperate enough. We ran back in and Sandra spent ten minutes looking for her purse, but she found it in the end. The money was all there.
‘He must be hitching.’
We jumped into her old Renault and headed off towards the motorway junction.
We got to the roundabout – no one there. We stopped and got out of the car to see if he’d spotted us and hidden on the slip road, but he was definitely not there.
Then I realised: ‘The other roundabout…’
There are two in Reading.
‘But that’s miles away.’
‘Yes, but that’s where he got dropped off when he came, that’s where I picked him up. He might not even know about this one.’
So off we went again. We got on to the motorway and drove up to the next turn-off. We drove around that roundabout, but he wasn’t there either. We got off the roundabout and drove back in towards town.
He was walking down the road towards the junction. He didn’t try and hide. We pulled up, jumped out and ran towards him. Tar put down his bag and waited for us.
‘Got you!’ I grinned. He smiled back wanly. I think he was pleased to see us.
Well, we argued and argued all over again. Tar wasn’t interested. All he was willing to talk about was whether we were going to lend him the bus fare or whether he was going to hitch. It went on for ten minutes or more, but gradually it began to sink in on me – there was nothing we could say or do. He’d already given up in his mind.
‘But you can do it, other people do it,’ Sandra kept saying.
‘It’s no worse than a dose of ‘flu,’ I reminded him.
‘And I can’t even cope with that,’ said Tar.
I sort of understood. That was how worthless he felt. It was poison and you knew it was poison. Maybe it was just like the ‘flu, maybe it was even easy to stop, but he couldn’t do even that.
‘I’m going back to Bristol to get some heroin. You can’t stop me. All you can do to help me is lend me the money to get back on the bus.’
‘We’re not lending you anything,’ said Sandra.
Tar must have seen in my face what I was thinking. ‘Tell her,’ he said.
And I just shrugged. The thing was, if he hitched back it would be so miserable. It was a lousy day, cold, damp, he wasn’t dressed for it. But he’d freeze and get sodden for the sake of heroin, and what would that achieve? He’d just feel even more worthless and useless than if he caught the bus, because then at least he wouldn’t have to suffer for it.
I tried to explain to Sandra, but she was more or less convinced anyway. He was so sure of himself, if you see what I mean.
‘I can’t give up for you,’ Sandra said, ‘or I would.’ I rummaged in my pockets for the money. He was looking miles better all of a sudden, and I could have kicked him for it.
Then we drove him to the bus station.
‘You did the right thing,’ said Tar. And we both glanced at each other because it was like he’d pulled the wool over our eyes, because he was so pleased with himself. Maybe. Or maybe he was just glad that he didn’t have to hitch after all.
We went with him to the station to wave him off. Sandra said, ‘Come back soon, any time you want to try again.’
‘Any time at all,’ I said firmly.
‘Any time at all,’ she agreed.
Tar nodded his thanks and moved towards the bus. We stopped him to give him a goodbye hug and he waited while we did that. Then he climbed on board and the bus drove him off.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Gemma
OH HOW COULD YOU EV-ER LET ME DOWN
NOW HOW COULD YOU EV-ER LET ME DOWN
THESE PROMISES (AH AHHHHHHHHHHHH)
WERE MADE FOR US
(O-O-OH O-O OH OOOOOHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH)
The Buzzcocks
I had a problem. Maybe I had a problem. I was waiting to see if I did when someone started pounding on the door and yelling. I leaped up and spilt tea down my front and scalded myself.
I thought, Police! But it was a woman doing the yelling.