2 Love bites
The map. The map would explain everything, Ben felt sure of that.
All he had to do was pull himself together and go to look at the map.
He pushed himself away from the wall, waited for a car to pass, then headed across the main street.
A few cars were parked in the spaces painted onto the square. They looked like normal cars but the makers’ badges were unfamiliar and Ben didn’t recognise them. Not a Ford or a Nissan in sight.
He approached the display board. The map had been put there for holidaymakers: made to look as if it had been painted by hand, with little pictures of some of the buildings and tiny black footprints picking out interesting walks.
“The Historical Market Town of Kirby” the map proclaimed in big letters. The layout of the streets looked familiar to Ben, and some of the names.
But some of the street names were slightly different: as he had already seen, Regent Road was now Regency Road, but also Mill Street had become Miller’s Row, Hearst Green was Hart’s Green, Lime Street was Lyme’s Street...
And Duke Street! According to this map, Duke Street, where Ben had lived with his parents for six years, was now called Tanner’s Cut...
~
Ben heard voices.
He dragged his gaze from the map.
Three teenagers, about Ben’s age, came running out of the newsagent’s, laughing and shouting. They sprinted round the corner into ... was it still Richard Street?
A middle-aged woman in an old-fashioned shopkeeper’s apron appeared in the shop doorway, waving a hand in the air, shouting at the youths. “Thieving little so-and-sos!” she yelled.
She didn’t run after them, though. They had a head start and she was too heavy to give chase anyway.
She saw Ben watching and took a step towards him.
“You with them, are you?” she demanded. “You keepin’ watch while your mates go nicking sweets and things, are you?”
Ben backed away, shaking his head. “No,” he said. “I don’t know them. I’m not with them. I’ve never seen them before.”
She took another step across the road. “You’re lying,” she screeched. “I can tell. You’re a lying little so-and-so.”
Now, there were some other people in the street. They must have come out of the shops when they heard the commotion.
They were all staring at Ben.
He turned and ran.
He couldn’t be sure, but one of the three shoplifters had looked just like his friend Andy.
It wasn’t possible, he knew. He’d left Andy at his cottage a mile and a half away, on the far side of Barlow’s Patch. Andy hadn’t been coming into town. He must be mistaken.
But he wasn’t going to hang around and try to explain all that to the angry shopkeeper and the people in the street who were all staring at Ben accusingly. How could he ever begin to explain something as strange as what was happening to him this afternoon?
~
He headed back along the alleyway to Regency Road, then turned right, and right again into a road he knew as Beaumont Street. Sure enough, he heard the voices again a few minutes later: the three must have stopped running when they were clear of the square, confident that the shopkeeper wouldn’t give chase.
They appeared at a junction a short distance ahead of Ben.
He walked faster.
Mid-brown hair down to his collar, a good head taller than his friends, a casual, rolling stride – from behind it looked just like Andy.
Ben didn’t recognise the other two. A boy with short, dark hair and a scuffed leather jacket. A girl with spiky blonde hair and tight jeans. She was full of energy, bouncing about, pushing and poking at her two friends, talking and laughing all the time.
When he was only a few paces behind, Ben said, “Hey, is that you, Andy?”
The three turned as one and stared at Ben. There was something in their look that Ben didn’t like, something that cut right through him.
The one who looked like Andy seemed puzzled for an instant, as if he was struggling to place Ben.
“I... sorry,” said Ben. “I thought you were someone else. From behind, you looked like someone else.”
The tall boy shrugged, just like Andy, and the three of them relaxed.
“You shouldn’t do that,” said the girl. “Thought you were the filth.”
They turned to walk on and Ben fell into step with them. He felt the need to explain. “I was at the square,” he said. “I saw you running off and you–” he nodded at the tall boy “–looked just like a friend of mine called Andy.”
The boy shook his head. “My name’s Stu,” he said.
“But we all know him as Stacker, don’t we?” chipped in the girl.
That jarred Ben: he’d been joking about that with Andy while they watched football. It was something their form teacher Mr Marshall had said just before the summer holidays.
“Because all he’ll ever be good for is stacking shelves in a supermarket, right?” said Ben.
The girl looked at him strangely, then grinned and smacked him on the arm. “Spot on, matey,” she said. Then she added, “My name’s Rachel and the quiet one here is Lenny. Lenny hardly says a word, ’cos he’s got a crush on me. Haven’t you, Lenny?” She leaned over and kissed him on the cheek. Lenny beamed at her, his cheeks bright red.
“My name’s Ben.”
“Hello, Ben. D’you fancy me, too? Stacker does – he’s nearly as bad as Lenny.”
What she said was clearly true, but she fancied herself more than the other two added together. Ben didn’t say that, though. “That woman from the shop thought I was with you lot,” he said instead, unable to meet the girl’s steady gaze. “I had to leg it, just like you did.”
“We were just nicking,” said Rachel. “Something to do, you know?”
“Want some?” Stacker produced a handful of chocolate bars from his jacket pocket and tossed one to Ben. “Hate the things, myself.”
They came to the recreation ground and went in through the steel barrier that was supposed to stop kids getting bikes and motorbikes onto the playing field.
They stopped behind the old sports pavilion. Its pebble-dashed concrete walls had been sprayed with graffiti: mostly Rachel’s name picked out in jagged purple letters by her or one of her admirers.
“You from round here, then?” asked Rachel, suddenly intense. “I don’t know you. You don’t sound like one of us.”
A harsh rattling broke through the silence that followed her question. Lenny had produced a spray can and was shaking it loudly, getting ready to paint something new on the wall.
“I... just moved here,” said Ben.
Rachel relaxed. “Thought you was one of them Grammar School snobs,” she said.
The Grammar School... She must mean Harpers College in Colchester. Ben’s parents had wanted him to go to Harpers but he had argued with them that he wanted to go to the local Community High School with his friends.
“A new boy,” said Rachel. She turned to tall Stacker and blew a kiss to him. “New boy’s got a lot to learn, hasn’t he?” she said.
Ben looked from one to the other. He didn’t understand what they were talking about. All of a sudden he didn’t want to be here with these three. He didn’t know why he’d followed them.
He glanced across to where Lenny was spraying the pavilion wall. Where someone had painted “Eddie! Eddie! Eddie!” Lenny had added, “IS A PIG”.
Ben looked back at Stacker and Rachel.
They were kissing. Rachel pulled away. “I bet new boy hasn’t even had a taste of the locals, yet, has he?” She grinned at him, and said, “Is that right, Ben darling? You want a taste?”
She reached out and took his hand, while he stood rooted to the spot.
She moved closer and kissed him on the cheek, and then on the neck. He felt her teeth on his skin. “Fancy a love bite?” she whispered.
He backed away, feeling dizzy, feeling that she was teasing him, confusing him even more.
She laughed and spun away.
Lenny had finished at the wall and now he came towards Rachel. He grinned, revealing his long white teeth.
“Lenny’ll show him how to do it, won’t you darling? Come on, Lenny, give me a love bite.”
Lenny lowered his head to Rachel’s neck. After a second or two, Rachel gasped and her eyes opened wide. She looked at Stacker and said, “Come on, Stu, you too. Come here.”
She pushed Lenny away.
Slowly, the leather-jacketed boy turned to look at Ben.
There was blood smeared all around his mouth and a peaceful, faraway look in his eyes. At his side, Stacker stooped low over Rachel’s neck, lapping at the wound.
Rachel raised a hand towards Ben. “Come on, new boy,” she gasped. “Come and have a taste of the locals. Kirby’s purest.”
Ben turned and ran and behind him he could hear the three of them laughing and giggling like little children at play.