The Taming of Lilah May Read Free Page A

gulping from a new glass of red wine and dishing up a shepherd’s pie that she made at the weekend and then shoved in the freezer.
    There are tiny baby carrots to go with it, and a dish of leafy kale.
    Dad’s gone out on an emergency lion-call so it’s just the two of us.
    That’s nothing new. It’s hardly ever the three of us these days.
    â€˜Mum,’ I start, stirring my fork around in the savoury mince so that a strong smell of animal and onion rises up towards my fringe. ‘Is it OK if I go round to Bindi’s in about an hour? She wants to play me some CD or something.’
    Mum looks up from where she’s forking in mince in a vague sort of a way. I know she’s thinking about Jay.
    â€˜I’ll give her mum a call, just to make sure,’ she says, going over to the phone.
    I cross my fingers hard underneath the table. I’ve arranged with Bindi that she will hog the phone all evening.
    â€˜Reeta?’ Mum’s saying. ‘How are you?’
    There’s a short pause. I’m hoping that it’s Bindi she’s speaking to, not Reeta.
    â€˜Lovely,’ Mum says. ‘Actually Reeta, Lilah would like to come over and see Bindi for a while. I hope that’s OK with you?’
    Whoever’s on the phone obviously says that it is, because Mum says, ‘Thanks, love,’ and hangs up with a smile.
    â€˜Yes, that’s fine,’ she says to me.
    Megatriff
!
    â€˜Poor Reeta,’ says Mum. ‘She sounds as if she’s got a terrible cold.’
    I fight back a smile.
    Bindi’s such a great best mate.
    â€˜You don’t need to call there to check I’ve arrived,’ I say, rinsing my plate in the sink and gulping down a glass of water. ‘I’ll only be a couple of hours, tops. Promise.’
    â€˜OK,’ says Mum. She looks a little nervous. There weren’t all these rules and curfews and checking-ups when Jay was my age.
    â€˜Thanks for supper,’ I say, bolting upstairs.
    I stand in front of my mirror and decide to stay in the black jeans, but change into a tight black and white striped top and some silver hoop earrings.
    I spray gloss stuff all over my dark hair and put my eyeliner on again for about the millionth time today. Then I lace up a pair of black Converse trainers and fling my black leather jacket over the top.
    â€˜See you later,’ I call to Mum, rushing out of the front door before she can see how much make-up I’ve got on.
    I leap onto my bike and wheel off towards the precinct, wobbling in the stiff breeze.
    There’s something strange in the air tonight.
    Or maybe it’s just me.
    It’s like everything is sharpened and extra-clear after the storm earlier.
    I swear I can even smell a hint of danger in the air.
    It makes me feel reckless and mad and confident.
    I chain up my bike and stroll into the precinct.
    Adam’s there early, which is kind of good as I have absolutely zero patience and hate waiting around for people.
    He’s got his back to me, so I creep up by the fountain where he’s standing, and then some mad urge makes me leap on his back and shout‘ADAM!’ so that both of us almost fall into the water.
    â€˜You nearly gave me a heart attack, Liles,’ he says, brushing down his black T-shirt and tossing back his hair.
    Liles?
    When has he ever called me that?
    That’s the special name that Jay had for me.
    â€˜Call me Lilah,’ I say, abruptly.
    He stares at me for a moment, but then his good-natured grin returns and he offers me a hand to jump off the side of the fountain.
    â€˜Where shall we go?’ he says.
    I shrug.
    â€˜Park?’ I say. It’s a mellow sort of evening now, still and full of promise.
    â€˜Sure,’ says Adam. He pulls a roll-up from his pocket and sticks it between his lips.
    â€˜Smoke?’ he says, offering me the packet of dried worm tobacco.
    â€˜No thanks,’ I say. ‘Smoking is for