14
A big yellow cab with a slanting tower welded on to its roof is parked right outside Heaven. It looks like a taxi that’s been badly customized with gloss paint and some random freestyle roof-sculpture. Yellow Submarine Beatles Tours is painted in rainbow shades along the sides.
‘Scary,’ Frankie says. ‘This place gets weirder by the minute.’
Inside, the cafe is almost deserted. Angel-boy Dan is wiping down the tabletops while his little brothers are doing homework at a table in the corner. He looks up with a grin that makes my toes melt.
‘Hey, Anya,’ he says. ‘Hi, Frankie, Kurt.’
‘No wings today?’ Frankie quips. ‘Is that because you’ve been skiving school again?’
‘Shhh!’ Dan says in a loud whisper, looking round to check his little brothers aren’t listening. ‘I wasn’t skiving, I was helping out. I told Mum there was a class trip to Alton Towers, and she let me stay off…’
‘Bad boy, Dan,’ Frankie says, shaking her head. ‘No wonder your halo’s slipped…’
We order Coke floats and cupcakes and settle ourselves at the window table. The only other customer is an ageing hippy in an orange satin coat, sitting in the far corner eating a cheese sandwich from a plastic lunchbox.
‘Hey!’ Frankie whispers as Dan arrives back with the drinks and cakes. ‘He’s eating his own butties!’
‘Oh, that’s Ringo,’ Dan explains. ‘He’s a Beatles tour guide, and he’s started taking his breaks in here –’
Frankie snorts. ‘Don’t tell me, that hideous taxi-thing belongs to him, right?’
‘It’s a yellow submarine, like in the Beatles song,’ Dan says. ‘He brought in a bunch of American tourists yesterday, and they had nine cakes and four giant lattes between them, so we pretend not to notice when he gets the cheese butties out.’
‘You’re nuts,’ Frankie mutters. ‘It’s a wonder you make any money at all…’
A bell chimes as the cafe door swings open and a posse of teenagers come in – Lily Caldwell and some of Dan’s scally friends from school. She looks across and takes in the scene, then leans over and stubs out her ciggy on my cake plate. ‘Sorry,’ she says, not sounding it at all.
‘You’re not supposed to smoke in here,’ one of Dan’s little brothers pipes up, but Lily just gives him a cold stare and he shrugs and goes back to his homework.
‘Comin’ out, mate?’ one of the lads asks. His eyes scan the half-empty cafe, lingering with distaste on Ringo. ‘C’mon, Dan, this place is dead!’
‘I’m working,’ Dan says. ‘Y’know how it is.’
‘You could skive off,’ another says. ‘We’re goin’ into town!’
‘Sorry, not tonight,’ Dan shrugs. ‘Like I said.’
Lily flicks back her tawny curls. ‘Just thought we’d drop in,’ she says softly. ‘We missed you at school today. Sure you won’t come out with us? It’d be fun, promise!’
‘I’m sure it would, Lily,’ Dan says. ‘But… no.’
Lily’s face hardens. Her eyes catch mine, cold and mean, and I realize something. I don’t much like Lily Caldwell, but she really, really doesn’t like me.
‘Suit yourself,’ she says, and the whole gang of them are gone, the door slamming shut behind them. Dan grabs the plate with the stubbed-out ciggy on it, brushing the whole lot into the bin just as his mum comes out from the kitchen, wiping floury hands on her apron.
‘What was that?’ she asks. ‘I thought we had people in!’
‘Just the wind slamming the door,’ Dan says. ‘Sorry.’
The little brothers look up, exchanging glances, but Dan draws a finger across his throat when his mum isn’t looking, and the brothers keep their mouths closed.
‘I’ve seen you before, haven’t I?’ Dan’s mum says, smiling at us. ‘On our first day. I’m Karen Carney – it’s good to meet Dan’s friends from school.’
Dan’s real ‘friends from school’ are slouching off down the street as we speak, Lily lighting up a new cigarette and the boys playing a noisy game of football with an old tin can. I drag my eyes back to Dan’s mum.
‘So, how was the school trip?’ she asks.
‘Trip?’
‘You remember,’ Dan prompts. ‘Alton Towers.’
‘Ah,’ Frankie grins. ‘Unforgettable, I’d say. Shame Dan couldn’t make it!’
‘It’s nice to see that Dan has such good friends,’ Karen Carney smiles. ‘There are some real scallies at that school. Ringo was telling me that someone tried to set fire to the place the other week! Probably while you were off with the flu, Dan. Can you believe it?’
‘I did hear something,’ Kurt says. ‘Terrible!’
‘Who would do a thing like that?’ Frankie wonders out loud.
Dan, who has turned a kind of dark crimson colour, looks like he wants to slip through a crack in the lino.
‘There are some bad boys at school,’ I blurt, trying to rescue him. ‘But Dan is a good boy. Like… angel.’
Frankie chokes on her cream meringue, but Karen Carney doesn’t seem to notice. She grins at me and her tired brown eyes are warm and sparkly. ‘Well… I’m very lucky with my boys, I know,’ she says. ‘It was lovely to meet you all again! Call in any time!’
She heads back to the kitchen while Dan sinks down on to the window sill, hiding his face in his hands.
‘The flu?’ Frankie sniggers. ‘And Alton Towers, and scallies who set fire to the school… very interesting!’
‘She doesn’t know you were excluded, does she?’ Kurt says.
‘How about I say the cakes are on me, if you forget everything you just heard?’ Dan pleads. ‘Free cakes for life? As a symbol of our lasting friendship?’
‘It’s a deal,’ Frankie grins.
I put down my cupcake, half-eaten. Frankie and Kurt are laughing with Dan, but as I watch him bribe his way out of the tangle of lies, there’s a bad taste in my mouth that even the sweet sugar frosting can’t hide.
Dan told me himself, he’s complicated. Right now he’s cute and kind, but at school he’s a bad boy… about as bad as it’s possible to be.
Which version is the real Dan?
I haven’t a clue…