Read Unbecoming for Free Online Page A

one and ran her finger along them. They were like two golden streams of water – one going forwards and the other back. When she pushed them, they came together and intertwined, and when she took her finger away, they sprang apart. It was entrancing. She did it several times. She didn’t know they made golden ink. Had they always done that? Was it real gold? Such a thing must be expensive, surely?
    The boy who appeared in front of her said, ‘Mum’s going to go nuts when she sees that.’
    Mary smiled up at him. Such a fierce and lovely face he had. ‘Hello,’ she said. ‘Where did you come from?’
    He stepped closer. ‘Serious. You’re going to be in real trouble.’
    ‘Stop worrying!’ She tapped the seat next to her. ‘Sit here next to me and we’ll have a cigarette together.’
    ‘I’m a child!’
    ‘Are you sure? You’re pretty big for a child.’
    ‘I have a thyroid complaint.’
    ‘Perhaps you eat too much?’
    ‘It’s nothing to do with eating, it’s to do with my metabolic rate.’ He folded his arms at her. ‘I have special needs.’
    ‘We all have those. I especially need to leave, for instance, but you’re not letting me.’
    He frowned at her. ‘That’s my pencil case. Can I have it back, please?’
    He held out his hand. She wasn’t quite ready to give it up, but he snatched it from her anyway.
    ‘Manners!’ she said.
    He stuck his tongue out, squatted on the carpet with his back to her and emptied the pens onto the floor.
    Mary turned her attention to the window. Ragged clouds shifted above the tops of two trees – an ash and a sycamore by the look oftheir leaves. Beyond them was the pointy tip of a tower with ropes stretched tight from its ramparts and dozens of flags flapping in the wind. Had they just appeared? Her heart thrilled.
    ‘Is that a boat?’
    The boy didn’t look up.
    She struggled to stand, but the chair was deep and her legs didn’t obey her. She slumped back down exasperated. ‘Please could you answer me. There’s a mast and rigging out there. Are we near the sea?’
    He shrugged. ‘It’s just buildings.’
    ‘Why does it look like water rippling?’
    The boy stood up and pressed his nose against the window. ‘It does a bit.’
    ‘But is it?’
    ‘It’s the sky and the flats opposite and a bit of the church behind that, nothing else.’
    ‘What about the flags?’
    ‘They’re for decoration.’ The boy craned his neck. ‘I wish it was the sea though, that’d be cool.’ He turned to her. ‘Mum said this town would make us happy. She said when she lived here it was brilliant, but me and Katie think it’s rubbish. It was better living with Dad.’
    Mary swallowed her disappointment. No sea then. And she’d been so certain of it. ‘Tell me,’ she said. ‘What exactly should I be doing?’
    ‘No idea.’ He stared at her, unblinking. ‘Mum said it was only for one night.’
    ‘What was?’
    ‘You being here. But it’s been two nights already because there’s nowhere else for you to go. Do you know all this?’
    ‘Of course.’ She peered at him. ‘What’s your name?’
    ‘Chris.’
    ‘How old are you?’
    ‘Fourteen.’
    ‘That’s a good age.’
    He smiled. ‘Is it? Why?’
    ‘It’s the age of adventure.’ She returned his smile, feeling suddenly fond of him. ‘I always wanted a brother. I would’ve called him Nemo.’
    ‘That’s the name of my goldfish.’
    Which is, she realized, where she’d got the name from, because hadn’t she been introduced to some creature in a tank? The simplicity of her imagination shamed her. There was no stretch to it any more, it had become domestic, parochial. But the boy didn’t seem to notice, was back counting his pens, putting them into colour-matched piles.
    Someone else used to do that. Some other child. Ah, how slow her brain was. Think now, think. Not pens but buttons – poured onto newspaper from Pat’s jar and picked out one by one – the biggest, the smallest, the prettiest