under his armpits. Skunk felt her legs turn to jelly. The man was going to kill her. She could see it in his eyes. He was going to grab her by the throat, pick her up and smash her to bits on the pavement.
Possibly he would have, but his shopping bags split before he reached her, and cans of Stella spilled all over the path. His charge towards her was halted and she turned and ran off as well. Ten minutes later, she found Jed and Dillon hiding out in the bus shelter by the train station. This is where they got to know each other. Jed told Dillon his and Skunk's ages and about their dad who was called Archie and their live-in au pair who was called Cerys. He didn't mention their mother, but, then, since the day she'd done a bunk to Majorca, nobody ever did. Dillon, in turn, told them he was a Gypsy. He was fifteen years old and this was the eleventh county he'd lived in since his mum, dad, two brothers and younger sister had all been killed in a fire started by another Gypsy who had caught Dillon's older brother having it away with his wife. Dillon had only escaped because he'd been arrested that afternoon for trying to rob a sausage roll off the deli counter in the Great Yarmouth branch of Asda. Now Dillon lived with his aunt and uncle outside the old Halfords store that had shut down the previous winter. Even though he was older than Skunk and Jed, he couldn't read or write anywhere near as well as they could, but he did have the ability to steal from a sweet counter with the shopkeeper staring straight at him, and the shopkeeper would never know. His ambition was to rob a house. Jed's ambition was to be a professional footballer. Skunk's ambition was to get married and have lots of babies and never ever leave them, so she asked Dillon back to play Xbox, which Dillon thought was cool, because all the other kids he'd met in Hedge End so far had called him a stinking pikey and left him to play on his own. As they made their way back to the Cunninghams' house, two police cars sped down Drummond Road and screeched into Drummond Square. Thinking the bike's owner had dobbed them in for stealing, Skunk turned and started to run, but Jed grabbed her by the shoulder. ‘They're not looking for us, Skunk. They're parking outside the Buckleys'.’
Skunk turned back and looked at the police cars. Mrs Willet from Drummond Primary had once got a policeman to come into school and tell them stealing's bad, but he'd come on a pushbike, so this was the first time she'd ever seen them with lights on and sirens wailing other than on the motorway. Now, close up, they were huge and gleaming and there were two policemen in each one. All four of them got out and ran towards the Buckleys'. The front door was already open and Mrs Buckley was standing under the porch roof. Her house was a giant behind her, the biggest in the square, and Archie looked at it dreamily each time he got in his car. Unlike the Cunningham place, which just had a double driveway, it was set back from the road and partially screened by swaying horse chestnuts that had recently lost their blossom and would soon start to lose their leaves. Mrs Buckley looked much the same as the trees; a tall woman with auburn hair that was greying, her face looked haggard and bloodless. She ran towards the policemen and the five of them formed a huddle. Skunk, Jed and Dillon moved as close as they dared and they listened.
‘It's my son …’
‘… his name?’
‘… Rick. Rick Buckley … he hasn't been acting himself…’
‘… have you called social services?’
‘… how long has he been like this …’
‘… you say your husband's in there with him?’
‘… please … he's my son …’
Snippets. Maddening snippets. The three children were so engrossed in the conversation they didn't notice Cerys's presence until she took hold of Skunk's and Jed's ears. The two of them were dragged back to their side of the square. In an impressive show of allegiance that made Skunk instantly love him, Dillon crossed the road to be with them. Here, they joined a swelling gaggle of neighbours and passers-by who had come out to witness the Buckleys' shame. Mrs Buckley was crying openly now. It wasn't the first time Skunk had seen an adult cry – Archie had cried after Euro 2004 and the World Cup in 2006, and Cerys cried each time another man dumped her – but it was the first time she had seen one cry the way a child cries. Mrs Buckley's face screwed up and she lost the breath that she needed to speak with. The policemen seemed scared of her emotion. They sneaked off into the house. Mrs Weston from number 12 went to Mrs Buckley and put her arms around her. Mrs Buckley sobbed in Mrs Weston's arms. The house, in contrast, stood silent.
Skunk said, ‘What's going on?’
Jed said, ‘Their son's gone mental.’
Cerys said, ‘You shut your mouth. I'll give you mental,’ and clipped Jed around the ear.
Behind them, people Cerys could not beat into silence spoke on …
‘… Poor Veronica and Dave …’
‘… it's the kid I feel sorry for …’
‘… shouldn't be out anyway …’
‘… a danger to himself…’
‘… a danger to us all…’
‘… that Bob Oswald's a bastard …’
… in hushed, excited voices that reminded Skunk of Christmas. These voices only quietened when an ambulance and two more police cars pulled up outside the Buckley house. As they tried to find spaces to park in, three of the four policemen came out with a man Skunk hadn't seen for what seemed like forever. She didn't get much of a look at him now. He was huddled with his head down and he had his hands behind his back. To Skunk, he didn't act like he'd gone mental. Sunrise Oswald at school was mental; she smoked roll-ups in the playground and called lezzer after female teachers. This man did nothing like that. He simply got in the back of one of the police cars and a policeman got in beside him. The car pulled away with its lights off and siren silent.
Really, it was quite dull.
Then Mr Buckley came out.
They didn't carry him out, but a medic stood either side of him and Mr Buckley had one arm in a sling. It looked like he had been bleeding – there was blood on his shirt and his trousers. Mrs Buckley ran to him and said, Oh David, David, but he snapped, Get off me, Veronica, and got in the ambulance without her. Again, it drove away without sounding its sirens. Mrs Buckley stood all alone on the pavement while the remaining policemen talked among themselves. Across the street, the crowd gossiped on.
‘… that's the last we'll see of him then …’
‘… I didn't even know he still lived there …’
‘… I'd almost forgotten they had a son …’
Skunk had forgotten as well. Somehow, in the past fourteen months, Broken Buckley had slipped from her mind. Sure, she and Jed had been fascinated for a short time, but then Jed got an Xbox for his birthday and Star Wars took over their worlds. She turned and looked up at Cerys. ‘What's he been doing in there?’
Cerys shrugged. ‘How the bloody hell would I know?’ ‘He's probably been murdering people,’ Jed said speculatively. ‘Like Fred West or the Yorkshire Ripper.’ The only books Jed ever read were about serial killers. He was an expert on the subject, and Skunk bowed to his superior knowledge. ‘Mr Buckley probably found a head in his fridge and asked Broken what it was doing there and that's why Broken attacked Mr Buckley. Mr and Mrs Buckley are lucky to be alive.’
‘Right,’ Cerys said. ‘That's it. Inside.’ She took hold of Skunk and Jed and ushered them up the drive. Dillon followed behind. ‘And where do you think you're going?’
‘To play Xbox.’
‘Uh-o. I don't think so.’
‘I am so,’ Dillon insisted. ‘They asked me up to play.’
‘Did they indeed.’ Cerys's tone was even frostier than normal, but remembering the way Dillon had crossed the road to stay with them earlier, Skunk stepped forward in his defence.
‘Cerys,’ she said, ‘this is Dillon. He's coming upstairs to play Xbox.’
‘No he's not,’ Cerys said firmly.