Leader of the Pack (Bryant Rockwell Book 3) Page 6

  “She must have been in bits.” Hearing actual details of the consequences of her scheme made Liv squirm.

  “Didn’t look that way to me.” His eyes narrowed. “Hang on. I thought the whole idea was to give her a taste of what she does to others. Especially you.” He plonked a sugar cube in his tea and stirred.

  “What do you know about it?” With a frown, she nibbled the doughnut. It was dry and still way too sugary.

  “Paul told us about all the rotten things she’d done to you three – like the staples in Jude’s trainers – it sounded well off. But when he described how she’d nearly brained you with a hockey stick, I just wanted to teach her a lesson she wouldn’t forget in a hurry.” His face became grim and he clenched a fist, his tea forgotten.

  As concern widened her eyes, he chilled a little. “Luke got some tickets and cooked up this idea about Paul standing in for him. I wasn’t entirely happy, but I settled for humiliation; it probably hit her harder.” He bit into his doughnut, scoffing half of it in one go.

  She nodded, wiping her hand on the serviette “You’re not wrong there. Diana’s had all the stuffing knocked out of her.” Another sip of tea. Too darn strong. She added more milk. “Two weeks off school has given her time to stew, and she’s been no bother since we got back.”

  His expression stayed harsh, his smile grim. “It was worth suffering the contamination of her touch if she’s leaving you alone.”

  Liv narrowed her eyes. This didn’t compute. “Are you saying you did it all for me? But you don’t even know me. I mean … you said we’d met, but ...”

  With a deep breath, he gestured toward her hand, again asking permission. This time, she nodded, and he held it between both of his as he battled with an internal struggle. Finally, he spoke, his tone tentative. “This is the really hard bit. I thought about not saying anything, but sooner or later your memory will come back and you’d just hate me.”

  Another frown. “How did you know about my memory?”

  “You didn’t seem to know me on Sunday. Then you said something about your memory not being ready to surface.” His voice rose at the end, turning it into a question.

  She nodded. “So where did we meet?”

  He glanced away for a pause which teetered on the brink of uncomfortable. “At Wellington Hall earlier this year; you were with your sister. My mum works there; she got me the waiting job. At least, it started off washing dishes, but I soon moved up.”

  Her face reflected her utter shock and he laughed.

  “I know what you’re thinking. Bit of a comedown; big, tough gang-leader washing dishes. But I had no choice.” He shook his head, then spotted her sceptical expression and shrugged.

  “Ok, I know. We always have a choice. It all started when someone bet Gerry he couldn’t nick a car. Only a dare at the start, but we got caught and spent a night in the cells. It was well scary, and I didn’t behave particularly well.”

  “I don’t think I want to hear about it right now.”

  He stroked her hand. “Sure, it’s way too much to take in. Anyway, one of the probation conditions was to get a job. I really wanted to try and start again.”

  “Like Luke did.” Liv could barely concentrate on his words because of the skin-tingling effect of his touch.

  “Yeah, fair play to the lad, he’s done really well with all the sports and everything. I had nothing like that, just a small taster of how it could be on the right side of the tracks.” His hand tightened round hers and he leaned closer. “No one with your smarts ever took me seriously before. You made a big impression. So different to the sort of girls who usually hung around me.”

  “Like Sonia Weston.” Still struggling to form complete sentences.

  “Especially her.” Scowling at the name, he drew back, releasing her hands as he picked up his cup. “She’s hard as nails, even worse than me. But she left school and I haven’t seen her since.”

  Despite being free of his mind-scrambling touch, Liv couldn’t think of a suitable response, so she bit into her doughnut. This time, a burst of the yummy raspberry filling brought a smile.

  He drank some tea and his expression cleared. “I started working hard at school. I really liked English, we did a couple of bits from Shakespeare and I got the films out on DVD. It’s well cool when you’ve got Sir Ian Mckellan or Ken Brannagh doing it. You kind of know what’s going on even though the words are hard to follow.”

  “Even Leonardo De Caprio. Yeah, I know what you mean. But I’m still confused. You said we met at Wellington Hall. I’ve only been there once before, at a wedding reception. Were you one of the waiters?”

  “You don’t remember, do you?” Another gulp, as though seeking courage. He put the cup down. “I’d just finished my shift, playing pool in the downstairs room. You watched me for a while, then I showed you how to play, how to line up a shot. Is this ringing any bells yet?”

  “Sort of ... I remember Vicky and her friend coming in and giggling a lot. I think they must have put you off ’cos you left soon after.”

  “It’s nice you remember it like that, but the truth is, if they hadn’t walked in when they did, who knows what might have happened.”

  “What do you mean?”

  He stared at his plate for a moment, then looked her straight in the eyes, again surrounding her hand with both of his. “I wanted you, Liv. In the worst way. I was in a real state when I saw you hovering in the doorway. I’d had a big row with Sonia and an even bigger one with my mum, so I was knocking back lager like it was going out of fashion.”

  As he spoke, flashes of speech and pictures teased her with feelings of danger and excitement.

  He glanced away. “I was totally off the rails by this time. But you were so bright and clean and innocent – the exact opposite of everything bad in my life.”

  During the brief pause, Liv thought she spotted his eyes tearing up, but he blinked and brought his thoughts back to the room.

  “And you were looking at me as though I was somebody; making me feel smart and funny. You really seemed to respect me.”

  Liv remained silent as the fuzzy images started to clear in her mind, leaving her with an underlying longing for something …

  “We had some cider and you were getting soft and sexy; the sweet smell of you was driving me crazy. As I said, I just wanted to ...”

  He shrugged, breaking the spell. “So now you know all of it. I wouldn’t blame you if you just got right up and walked away and never looked back.”

  Liv shook herself out of his grip and the powerful trance his words had created. She picked up her bag to go.

  He put his hand on her arm to restrain her. “But please give me a chance to prove to you I’m a different person, now. All I ask is that you think about it.” A pause. “Even better, talk to your friends. See what Katrina and Luke have to say. Ask anyone in the sixth form – heck, you can even talk to my teachers. They’ll tell you how I’ve changed.”

  She stared at him, trying to take it all in. Jimmy Proud: one of the good guys? Pleading with her? She watched him scribble on a piece of paper, then he turned on the full power of his thousand-megawatt smile.

  “If you don’t think I’m worth a second chance, then that’s it; I’ll never bother you again. But if that kiss meant anything to you, then let me know. Call me on this number – or email. I read them every day. Or you could leave a note in my locker: number 315.”

  He added the number and handed her the note. “Just please let me know either way by Wednesday lunchtime. It’s the last chance to get tickets for the sixth form Christmas disco and I want to know whether to get two or none.”

  His look suggested he’d much rather it was two. She stood.

  “I could still give you a lift home.” His tone, manner and expression backed off from devastating attraction to friendly neutrality.

  It gave her the courage to resist his charms. “No, it’s ok, it’s not far from here.”

  “I guess your mum wouldn’t be imp
ressed if you turned up on the back of a bike, huh?”

  “Nah, mum won’t even be home yet; she picks Davey up from the childminder’s at quarter to five.”

  “Cute little guy, Davey. I really like him.”

  “Oh yeah, I forgot you met my family. Ok. I’ll see you.”

  “Yeah, don’t forget to write.” He mimed writing. “Or email.” He mimed typing. “Or phone.”

  Liv grinned, matching his mime of a phone call, and was once more rewarded with the devastating smile which had such a destructive effect on the muscles holding her knees together.

  She left, aware of his gaze following her all the way out of the building, and tried to figure out her next action as she hurried home.

  As she walked up the drive, she heard a motorbike pass by, but from that distance, without her specs, she couldn’t tell if it was his bike or not. So much for her powers of observation – she couldn’t even remember what colour it was.

  11 Will the Real JP Please Stand Up?

  Liv got into school extra early the next day. She had a plan of action but this would be the really tricky bit. Knocking on the door of the sixth form common room, she prayed Jimmy wouldn’t be there and Laura’s sister Sarah would be.

  “Hello, is Sarah Turnbull around?”

  “Yo, it’s Tallulah. Come to leave a little reputation behind?” The boy’s cheeky grin was two winks short of a nudge.

  Damn. Now it was sure to get back to Jimmy that she’d been there, checking up on him. Luckily, Sarah heard her name and rescued her.

  “Hi, it’s Livvy isn’t it? What can I do for you?”

  Liv held out a CD. “Vicky’s had this for ages, she keeps forgetting to take it round to Laura, so she asked me to pass it via you.”

  “Fine, I’ll see she gets it.”

  Sarah came closer to take it and Liv whispered, “I have a question as well, can we go somewhere quieter?”

  Sarah looked around with a conspiratorial wink, adopting a classic nothing-to-see-here tone. “Sure, I think there’s one in my locker.”

  As they walked through to the lockers, Liv made a mental note of the location of 315.

  “Ok, so what’s this big secret?” Sarah’s grin had an air of mischief.

  “It’s more of a favour really. You’re the only person I could think of to help. Vicky’s mentioned you a couple of times, and when I asked, she said you’d be up for helping.” Try as she might, Liv couldn’t slow her words to walking pace.

  “So, now I’m intrigued. How can I help someone as talented as you?”

  “Thank you.” As ever, any kind of compliment knocked Liv for six, and she paused to remember why she’d come. “Look, say no if you don’t know him, but I want to find out some stuff about Jimmy Proud.”

  Sarah’s eyebrows shot up into her fringe. “Depends what you want to know. If it’s what turned him from the number one baddest badass in the school into a virtual teacher’s pet, then I’m definitely not the one to ask.” She looked around to make sure no one could overhear. “I’m sure it had a lot to do with him breaking up with that slag, Sonia.”

  Liv nodded; everyone knew her reputation as a hard case.

  Sarah frowned. “Tell me it’s none of my beeswax, but what would a bright girl like you want to do with him?”

  “Jimmy’s asked me out. He swears he’s changed, but I only know the bad stuff about him.”

  “Oh, he’s changed all right ...”

  “That’s all I wanted to hear. Thanks ever so much.”

  Sarah opened her mouth, giving the impression she had more to say, but a couple of people walked past and she merely smiled. “You’re welcome, anytime. Good luck. And I’ll pass this onto Laura.”

  “Thanks a lot.”

  She made it into registration just as Lenny called her name. The IT class barely reached through her consciousness then, at break, she dashed over to the staff room for the second part of her plan. Luck was definitely on her side: As she reached the door, Mr Clare strode down the corridor.

  “Excuse me, sir. I’m trying to find out some stuff about Shakespeare and my friend Jimmy said you might be able to help me.”

  “It all depends on what you want to know.” As he looked down his nose, Liv’s pomposity detector came online.

  “I’m looking for some sort of Shakespeare database. I want to be able to type a quotation from any of his speeches and it will return the play. And possibly which act and which character said it, that sort of thing.” The avuncular glint in his eye as she spoke said maybe she’d been too quick to judge. “Jimmy said you knew everything worth knowing about Shakespeare and you were extremely good with computers.”

  “In that case, you must have come to the right place, Miss …?”

  Yep. The guy had a sense of humour. “Tranter. Olivia Tranter.”

  “As in the object of the Duke’s affections in Twelfth Night.”

  “I’m sure it’s where my love of Shakespeare started, because my parents are keen.”

  “I assume you do have access to the Internet?” His twinkling eyes said he fully understood the irony of the question, and she mirrored them.

  “Of course. I’ve tried all the usual search engines. But with so many thousands of sites, it’s taking too long to try them all out.”

  “Good, good. Planner?” She handed it over and he wrote the URL in today’s slot. “There we are. Who did you say recommended me?”

  “Jimmy – James Proud. He’s in your English class.”

  “I know James. He’s also keen on the bard, a delight to teach. Got a good ear for the speeches, and quite a talent for acting as well.” He glanced at his watch. “Nice to have met you, Olivia. I wish you success.”

  “I’m sure it will help. Thank you very much indeed, Mr. Clare.”

  After looking everywhere, she finally found Kat talking to Terry and Alison outside the English block. Kat seemed a little frosty. “Where have you been? Why did you shoot off so fast?”

  “Sorry, I’ve been busy. I’ll tell you at lunch. Where are the others?”

  “Ray’s still off sick and Jude and Luke are in Liverpool for the day, representing the school in the sports symposium thingy.”

  “Was that today? I’m sorry Kat, I didn’t realise you’d be on your own. You could have come with me.”

  “I wasn’t on my own. I’ve been talking to Terry and Alison.”

  “Oh yes, right.” She turned to Alison who looked distinctly nervous at her interest. “Have you recovered from your evening in the limelight? I don’t know if I should be apologising for forcing it on you or congratulating you. I heard you were spot on as Blowsy.”

  “Th … thank you. I enjoyed it. Are you better? I was quite worried when they took you away in an ambulance.”

  “Sure, I’d just been overdoing it. Thanks for your concern. So, next year you’ll be the star, not the understudy, yes?”

  “Oh I don’t know about that.” Alison gave Terry a deer-in-headlights glance. Bless her.

  “I do. You just need to have a bit more confidence in yourself.”

  They moved on to English: a boring exercise in letter writing. Quite a few additional notes got passed around when Mr. Johnston’s attention got diverted. Sitting together enabled Liv and Kat to write in the back of their books and show it to each other.

  Liv started it off: She seems nice.

  Yeah. Ever so shy though.

  Are they really going out?

  I suppose so. They didn’t say. Kat’s eyes slid away, but not before Liv spotted something torn.

  Are you ok?

  Yeah, why?

  You seem a little down.

  Tell you later.

  Kat had no such chance in French; the listening test took the whole lesson after they’d marked each other’s work. By the time they finally got together over lunch they were both bursting to talk.

  Liv owed Kat some ear-time. “You go first; something’s bothering you. I saw you drifting away between each sentence in
French.”

  “She was. Just. So. Slow.” A grin. “It’s probably nothing. I’m just getting fed up with the way Liam’s been behaving just lately.”

  “Like what?”

  “I don’t know; it’s hard to put my finger on. When he first came over it all went well. It was lovely to see him again, and I did the same for him that he did for me in Ireland.” Kat opened a pot of fruit salad.

  Tearing the foil lid from her yogurt, Liv couldn’t help her smutty mind. Her eyes widened as she inclined her head with a “Do tell” grin.

  Kat cottoned on. “Not that. Taking him all over, showing him places, generally including him in all the outings with the gang and everything.”

  “Yeah, he really enjoyed Stratford and got on dead well with Luke.”

  “That’s the strange thing. Every time he comes in the house now and I’m doing homework with Luke, he goes all funny.”

  “Funny ha-ha or funny weird?”

  “Just hanging around being overly loud and blokey.”

  “Hate to state the obvious, but he is a loud bloke.”

  Kat rolled her eyes as she speared a piece of pineapple and a segment of satsuma. “Normally, I’d agree, but there’s more. He suddenly wants to discuss the latest scores and fixtures.”

  This was perfectly normal guy behaviour, so Liv kept schtum.

  But Kat had no problem reading her thoughts. “No, it’s not normal for Liam; he’s the least sporting person I know. In all this time, he’s never once joined in when the boys hog the dinner conversation with wall-to-wall match analysis and general football rants.”

  Liv had an insight. “There’s more, isn’t there?”

  Kat nodded. “It took a while to spot, but if I’m round at Luke’s he’ll find an excuse to come over and ends up staying ’til I go back with him.”

  “Perhaps he’s feeling lonely. Now the novelty’s worn off, maybe you’re not making so much of an effort and he’s stuck without company.”