Bubbles

Chapter 23

Lucy

She did.
She did go home, I know it. We've been searching for an hour - every back lane, every cafe, along the seafront, through the park grounds and down every row of houses.
Almost every row.
I don't even know where Penny lives, but I feel like I'd be able to tell which house was hers. It would have bubbles coming out every window and flowers in the garden and God knows what else. She's white, fairly wealthy and automatically privileged - statistically, relating to our town... Round about the third or fourth row of houses, I'd say. High up. Overlooking the sea and the commercial crap.
Mickey cuts into the dissolving blur of my eyesight as my brain is overtaken by anxiety.
He waves a hand in front of my face, guiding me back to physicality.
Next he helps me reclaim my hearing, cutting into the monotonous drone of the engine and putting pain back into the numbness.
"Is it our problem to solve if she has gone home?"
I think about this. Is it? You should take matters into your own hands if someone you know is having family issues, right? Specifically abusive family issues.
Her mum sounds abusive as shit.
"Yes. Drive."
"OK."

Row three. Number 1. Reasonably long drive, medium-high hedge, lights off inside. Not hers.

Row three. Number 4. Still not hers.

Row three. Number 7 - derelict.

Row four. Number 3. Still has fucking Christmas decorations.

Row four. Number 5. Looks quite empty, creepily well-kept garden... Dark windows, except for one. One window is lit. Second floor, far right. White curtains in every window. Two segregated, security-guard sized flowerpots by the front door.
I'm about to tell Mickey it's not hers when I see two people storm into the lit room.
A flicker of the back of a blonde head. Penny.
A monstrosity of hairspray and tight ringlets... Her crazy mum.
"Stop! Stop, it's her house! Stop stop stop!" I whisper-shout, somehow afraid of being heard by them.
Mick stomps on the brake, throwing me forward into the dashboard. My hands starfish out on impulse, breaking my fall and sending shockwaves up my arms.
I stare into the window, watching their torsos bobbing around soundlessly like they're on a mute television screen.
Penny's mum shouts something, red lips open wide and moving fast.
Penny turns away.
She's crying. Her mum made her cry.
Tears are cascading down her cheeks. Her eyes are shut tight, hair falling over her face, hands clasped to her chest.
The mother keeps going.

I sit. I sit, and I boil like an overfilled kettle. Fire is licking at every inch of my skin, tempting me to go into the building and rip Penny's mother's pampered head from her shoulders. It's the most anger I've ever felt. I don't know if I can stand it anymore.
I relent to my screaming instinct, and reach for the door-handle.
Mickey whips an arm round my shoulders before I can prise it open. His grip is iron. I struggle, breathing heavily, body pumping with adrenaline.
"Don't, Lucy. It's not worth it. Trust me."
I struggle some more.
The feeling wears off a bit, and I glance back at the window. The curtains are now shut, but the light still protrudes - dim, shadowed and punctured by silhouettes.
I can't look anymore. Mickey's muscles tighten profoundly, securing me.
Someone's sobbing.
It's me.
I'm clenching onto Mickey and making his work clothes all wet. Not that it would matter; they were filthy anyway.
Penny's sad and I can't do anything. I'm sitting in this fucking vehicle that smells like fuel and burgers, outside her house, galaxies away from her. The lawn seems to stretch for miles.
I can't reach her. Can't keep her safe.
All I can do is hold Mickey and hope it will be over soon.

The streaks of tears on my face stop flowing as soon as the Golds' front door slams open, banging roughly against the side of the house and chipping the paintwork. I can't cry now; I have to be strong.
The first person I see is her mum - standing, pointing to the doorway. Penny is in the arms of a middle-aged, exhausted looking man with thinning hair. Her father, I guess.
She has a backpack on. She's still covered in sand, hoodie slipping from her shoulder. For some reason she has no shoes on.
I would've laughed if I wasn't watching her family fall apart.
As soon as she lets her dad go, she kisses his cheek and stumbles out of the house. The door slams shut behind her.
It seems to scream that it won't be opened for her again.
At first, she heads off in the opposite direction of the truck. Mickey slaps his palm on the horn and she jumps, snapping her head round.
I throw open the door, pushing carelessly against the rust. Giving my eyes a last wipe, I twist sideways, ready to jump out and run up to her - but she's already there.
We look at each other for a moment. We are the only people in the world. It's safe now.
Penny sniffs slightly, looking up at me through wet lashes. I grab her, pulling her to me and cradling her. Her arms hang limply round my waist.
Mickey reaches over us and tugs the bag off of her, stretching an arm through the open window and chucking it into the back. He coughs.
"Fuck. I hope you don't have anything valuable in there, sweetheart."
Penny just shakes her head against my neck. I push her back a little, just to kiss her forehead and pull her in again.
Her fingers curl into fists, clinging to my shirt.
Mick starts up the engine with difficulty. I barely notice as the truck splutters into life, sighing against the kerb he rammed it into.
I have to take her home. With me. She can stay as long as she wants. I don't care.
Fuck, I think I might love her.