Rise by Karen Campbell

Author:Karen Campbell
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Bloomsbury Publishing
Published: 2015-01-23T05:00:00+00:00

On the way home, Ross begins to snore.

‘We should wake him. His mum will crack up.’

‘Why?’ says Justine.

‘Because he won’t sleep at night. He’s not been sleeping well.’

‘But he’s tired now. And he seemed a bit upset. I think he’s worried about you.’

‘Why? What did he say?’

‘Nothing. Maybe he’s worried you’re not very well. You’re not, are you? I mean, you look like death warmed up.’

‘Cheers.’

‘Well, you do. All pale and clammy.’

Michael drives on through the slim channel she’s made. It’s another vacuum to be filled; she’s waiting for an explanation. A politeness at least. But it’s a relief to be quiet beside her. He carries on driving and not talking, although what he really wants is to fold into her lap. Time is flashing past as the standing stones come into view, grow big, diminish. More stones appear, grey and bowed against the centuries of wind. They will be home in less than ten.

‘You don’t want to talk about it?’ she asks.

‘No.’

‘Fair enough.’

That’s wrong. She needs to prise it out of him, or coax it like a little bird. Why does nobody know that what Michael wants most in the world is to be looked after?

He sees Justine check her watch.

‘Fine,’ he says. ‘I’ll tell you. If you tell me why you were leaving.’

‘Were?’ she says.

‘If you were really going to go, you wouldn’t have come with us in the car.’

‘You think? You practically dragged me in.’

‘Please?’

She sighs. ‘I did something stu— look, I just need to get out of here.’

‘Is it Hannah? I can talk to her.’

‘Why would you think it’s Hannah?’

‘Well . . . She’s not always as friendly as she could be.’

‘Put yourself in her position. Some strange lassie gets the run of her house – and I bet I’m not the first one, am I?’

‘I don’t pick up women, if that’s what you mean.’

‘No, but I know your type. So busy trying to save the world—’ she stops. ‘Do-gooders can be right selfish bastards, actually.’

‘I think you’re being unfair.’

‘That right? Well, I know a social worker that got me two black eyes and a broken nose.’

‘He gave you what?’ His knuckles are white across the steering wheel.

‘No. He didny. But if he’d left well alone, I wouldn’t of bloody got them.’

‘But he was trying to help you, yes?’

‘I don’t see why some people aye think they know what’s best. When they have absolutely no idea of what’s going on. Or how some folk really live.’ She folds her arms. ‘Do you have a single clue, Michael? Of the shit that happens to some folk, for no reason at all? Not cause they’re bad and they deserve it, not cause—’

‘I think there can be reasons. We just might not understand them.’

‘What? Like you were a real bastard in a previous life? Or God’s just having a pisser of a day?’ Justine sniffs. ‘I don’t know how you believe all that shite. How’s a whole bunch of weans getting shot up on a bus fair? What’s the reason for that, smartarse?’

He shrugs.

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