The Boy in the Smoke Read Free

do this,” he said. “They’re just curtains.”
    “They forgot you,” Gina said. The second curtain fell to the ground, along with the rod it hung from. She stood up and walked to the desk, where she got a large pair of scissors.
    “Gina  … ”
    “Stephen,” she said, sounding very calm, “they forgot you. I need to help them arrange their priorities. You are more important than these curtains.”
    She used the scissors to point at the curtains.
    “I understand, but  … ”
    Gina got to the floor and began to cut away at the fabric. Stephen sat down on the edge of the sofa and nervously watched her make ribbons out of the material. The curtains were heavy, so she had to chop hard. Unsure of what to do, he turned to the television and flipped through the channels until he found a police show he knew on one of the constant repeat channels. He put it on mute and watched it for a moment to steady himself. When he turned back to Gina, he realized she was crying. This sent a new wave of panic through his system. He got up and crouched near her, then sat down on the edge of the curtain and put a tentative arm around her shoulder. She continued to cut the curtain as if nothing was happening.
    “I have a plan,” she said. “Would you like to hear it?”
    He nodded, albeit a bit warily.
    “I’m sixteen now, so I could leave school, but Mum promised that if I made it through this year without any trouble, they’d get me a flat in London.”
    “You’re joking.”
    “I’m not. They know I’m never going to university, so they’re going to have to make some provisions now. In fact, they’ve already looked at a few places. It’s an investment, right? You know they love buying property.”
    “But you just left school without taking any exams.”
    “I got close enough,” she said. “And anything to get me out of the house. It probably won’t be an expensive flat, but it will be enough. It’ll be in London. I have friends here. This is where I want to be. As soon as I have that flat, I’m coming for you. You’ll come and live with me.”
    “And just leave school?”
    “You can go to school in London. There are loads of comprehensives in London. I’m going to get a job at somewhere cool like Vivienne Westwood or something. And you’ll live with me, and neither one of us will ever go home again.”
    This was madness. This plan had no relationship with reality. It was possible that after a few glasses of wine his parents had told Gina that if she got through the year they’d get her a flat. They said things like that sometimes, but they never meant them. And even if they had, they certainly wouldn’t buy her one after she ran away on the eve of her exams. There was no flat. There would be no running away from Eton and living together. Gina said crazy things sometimes, but not like this. Not seriously—not like she really meant it.
    “You just can’t go to Eton,” Gina said calmly, still cutting away. “It’s my job to save you. So we’ll live in the flat.”
    “There’s nothing to save me from,” Stephen said. “Whatever you think they’ll turn me into, they won’t.”
    “You won’t be able to help it.”
    “Yes, I will. Don’t you trust me?”
    At that, Gina started sobbing properly. She threw her arms around his neck and held him close. He felt her heart beating wildly against his chest and had no idea what to say to make her stop crying. So he just sat there with her until she calmed down and detached herself.
    “I have a bit more to do,” she said, getting up and wiping at her eyes. “They’ll be here in a few hours.”
    She went into the kitchen, and Stephen heard the sound of glasses being dropped, one by one, on to the floor. He got up and went into the kitchen and watched her break every bit of glassware and crockery in the room, including a complete set of Viennese crystal and bone china. He could have stopped her—he was bigger and stronger—but he would not touch