He is glad she has gone. Bye bye, skank. Who needs a fucking mother, anyway? He’s nearly sixteen, he’s three inches taller than her already.
What a day! Fuck. He is buzzing. There is a weird energy running through him. Like he’s nervous, anxious, but also like he’s just won a match or something, scored a hat trick. He can’t believe his life at the moment. For ages he’s been just the same as everyone else really; thinking about exams, his hair, football, his mates, who he should ask to the prom—all that normal stuff, and that was okay, but now this! He can’t get his head around it. The police are investigating his mother’s disappearance. Bad. No matter how chill he wants to appear about it, he knows that is very bad. But then GCSEs have been canceled! Good, no matter how shit he is feeling about everything else. That is a result! It looks like they are going to work out grades on course work or something, which is pretty neat for him because his mum—he catches himself—Leigh helped him on quite a bit of that.
Oli has lots of friends and is popular at school, with everyone except the teachers, that is, who think he’s lazy, disorganized and not trying hard enough. This might all be true, he doesn’t know. He just thinks exams suck; he’s crap at them. He had started to think they were probably right, the teachers. Most likely he would struggle to get to a good sixth form and eventually a good university, or even a shit one, come to that. So why bother?
He remembers saying that to Leigh, quite often. She actually never calls him lazy, or disorganized. She just says things like, “There’s a knack to exams, we just have to work on developing that.” She made it sound easy, and as though they were in it together. When he was getting into knots with some impossible homework and close to losing it, she’d say, “Maybe we should find a different way of looking at this problem?” She’d let him dictate his thoughts into his phone and then help him write up what he’d recorded as a structured essay. It sort of worked with the way he thought about stuff.
Thinking about her being this thoughtful and patient makes his stomach spasm.
So yeah, his course work was okay. He might get some seven and eight grades now. Even in the nonscience subjects. Leigh always said he was a seven and eight sort of kid. She didn’t agree with the teachers. She said he’d find his own success, his own way. It was a pretty good thing to hear.
Until, that is, you know she’s a liar. Then it doesn’t really matter what she said, ever.
If the exams hadn’t been canceled, Oli would have had to spend the next few months revising. Even the thought of cramming the facts into his head, being sure as he pushed one in another one fell out, scares him, but now he doesn’t have to worry about any of that. It’s the biggest break ever! He would have spent nights lying awake thinking about that airless school gym, him sweating, his head fuzzy with facts that swam around, weak and vague. He would never have been able to remember the difference between attrition and abrasion when it came to the erosion of coast lines, and all the different French verb endings. It made his scalp itch to think about it, his palms clammy, throat dry. But all that was gone now. Thank fuck.
Still, he must remember not to look too pleased about it in front of his dad because his dad is behaving like a mental case right now. Yeah, okay, his wife going missing is clearly a blow, but Oli thinks his dad should have some pride. Considering everything they’ve discovered. Oli would never let a girl get to him so much. And even if she had, he would never let anyone know. He’d just get his revenge on her. He wouldn’t be left looking like a total dick. His dad should have sex with Fiona or something, to get even.
His dad is not having sex with Fiona, though; instead he’s behaving like some sort of jailer with him and Seb. Monitoring his every movement, making it harder to simply get in and out the house, FFS. He wonders if they’d notice if he slipped out now. He really feels a need to get away. Just out. Away from here. Away from her absence. The lack. He could go down to the embankment. It’s a really cool place to hang out and practice tricks. Although she’s sort of ruined the place now.
That is where he saw her, with him.
Six months ago. They were just walking along the street, hand in fucking hand, as though it was the most natural thing in the world. She looked comfortable, entitled. She should have been checking over her shoulder, nervous about who might see them. It was so arrogant not to be jumpy, cautious.
She looked really beautiful. It was a weird thing to think about your mum and not something he did think generally. His mates sometimes said his mum was fit. When they were younger, she had been identified as a MILF, it was just something that was said when they were playing video games in the safety of their own bedrooms. The confession spilling out among all the cussing and trash talk that was routine while shooting up Russian mercenaries. Oli hadn’t liked it and told everyone to “fucking shut up,” which they had. Sebastian is still young enough to say his mum looked pretty and he sometimes wants to take a photo of them all when they are heading out somewhere, but Oli outgrew that mum/son adoration thing a while back. So it surprised him that he couldn’t help but notice she was glowing, shimmering. He honestly didn’t recognize her at first—she looked like someone else. Besides, she was supposed to be at work in Scotland.
Then they fucking kissed, in the street. Totally gross. The man was nothing like his dad. He was younger, taller, blonder. He was wearing a suit. Oli had never seen his father in a suit, other than on his wedding day, which Oli could barely remember but there were photos all around the house.
His mother was having an affair.
He isn’t an idiot. Loads of his friends’ parents are divorced. Usually their dads started banging someone else, usually younger and usually someone they met at work. That was the pattern. He didn’t know of any mums who had affairs, though. It was so weird. What was wrong with his dad? How dare she? He had followed them. It was nuts but what else could he do. He didn’t want to look at them, but he couldn’t take his eyes off them either. They walked for ages. It was a hot day. The bloke took his suit jacket off, threw it over his shoulder. Oli scooted along on his board, sweat pooling at the base of his back. Following someone isn’t as easy as they make out in the movies. He kept his distance, but he was scared he’d lose sight of them. Unlikely, though, as the man was a fucking giant. He was sure his mum was just going to turn around and spot him, but she didn’t. She was too absorbed in the giant. It made him fucking sick.
They went back to this really flash apartment block. He couldn’t work out if it was a hotel or what. It looked like apartments but there was a bloke at the reception desk. What was that about? They went inside. Through the huge glass wall, Oli watched his mum chat to the receptionist. They were all friendly, not in a rush. She should have been ashamed; she should have been skulking. Hoping not to be spotted. But she was so relaxed.
He waited for ages for her to come out. She didn’t. He’d have waited all night but the bloke at the reception desk came out and asked what he was hanging around for. “Get along home, or I’ll call the police.”
“What have I done wrong?” Oli yelled back. Fucking loser. He hadn’t done anything wrong, but he moved along anyway. He had a feeling his mother wasn’t going to come out of the apartment block anytime soon.