Like This, for Ever

Arm would smell of mud. The boat would be grounded, skewed at an angle. No mains water, relying on a generator for electricity, Calor gas to cook. And that rubbish-strewn yard to negotiate several times a day. It would be the most impractical place in London to live.
    ‘Was there something you wanted to ask me?’ she said, after a moment. Earlier in the day, Barney had been almost too keen to show her around the boat. She’d suspected he wanted to talk to her away from the dad who never seemed to let him out of his sight these days.
    ‘Harvey and his mum and gran have moved away.’ His voice was trembling, the way voices did when they were trying to hold back tears. ‘No one knows where they’ve gone.’
    ‘That’s normal, I’m afraid,’ said Lacey. ‘It’s called protective custody. A lot of people will be very angry at Jorge. They might be tempted to take it out on his family and that wouldn’t be right.’
    ‘It wasn’t Harvey’s fault.’
    ‘No.’
    Silence. There was more to come. Lacey pulled her jacket closer around her. In the time that they’d been here, the best of the afternoon had passed. The air coming off the water was very cold and shadows were lengthening.
    ‘Did you mean it?’ said Barney. ‘What you said in the house? About how you – you know?’
    Lacey pulled up the sleeve of her jacket and showed Barney the bandage on her left wrist. The wound beneath it hadn’t been disturbed for nearly two weeks now. It was healing. In a little while, if she wasn’t tempted to slide backwards, she might start to wonder if maybe she was too.
    ‘I’ve been seeing a counsellor,’ she said. ‘Like you, like Huck. Only I’ve been seeing mine for a while now and I haven’t been honest with her. I didn’t tell her about things she could have helped me with. I’ve decided I’m going to tell her about this. Next time I see her.’
    ‘It’s weird,’ said Barney, staring at the bandage. ‘I thought I was weird, but—’
    ‘You’re not weird,’ said Lacey, tugging her sleeve back in place. ‘You’re different and interesting and quirky, but you’re not weird. And you’ve had a lot to deal with lately.’
    Barney looked at the slatted wooden floor of the cockpit. ‘You mean thinking my dad was a serial killer?’ he said.
    ‘Well, don’t feel bad about that. I thought
you
were.’
    He looked up again. His lips twitched. So did hers. Neither one of them was quite ready to smile about it yet. ‘What I meant was, you’ve lost your best friend and your mum,’ she went on. ‘At least, the hope of having your mum back one day. That’s a lot, by anybody’s standards.’
    Silence.
    ‘I think I knew about Mum,’ he said. ‘Deep down. I just didn’t want it to be true.’
    Silence again. She nodded, wanted to reach out and take his hand, didn’t quite feel able to. But he needed someone who would. Before he grew up thinking there was no love, no warmth in theworld. His father, with the best will in the world, was never going to be the demonstrative type.
    ‘Your dad said he’d told you about Mrs Green,’ said Lacey. ‘Does that feel a bit strange?’
    ‘He wants her to move in with us,’ said Barney. ‘Not yet. Not until I go to secondary school, but soon after that.’
    ‘Well, it will take some getting used to, but she seems quite nice to me.’
    ‘If they get married, she’ll be my stepmother.’
    ‘Are stepmothers always bad?’
    He thought about it for a moment. ‘Guess not,’ he said. ‘She makes nice biscuits. And I expect she’ll help with homework.’
    Lacey smiled, and for a second, the small, fair-skinned face in front of her had turquoise eyes and dark, spiky hair. ‘Biscuits and homework,’ she said. ‘I’ll remember that.’
    Splash, splash.
    ‘What was that?’ Barney was on his feet, had turned to look out over the water, and taken a step closer to her.
    ‘Just the water banging against the hull,’ said Lacey, puzzled.
    ‘We should go.’ Already he was on the side deck, swinging his leg over the guard-rail.
    ‘Of course.’
    She let Barney lead the way around the boats and on to the bank. Twice she had to ask him to slow down and be careful. The river was high enough for them to step off the nearest boat on to the yard. Barney walked several paces away from the edge before he turned.
    Earlier in the day, when she’d met Dana Tulloch for coffee and peace talks, the DI had told her that none of the children at the Creek that night had