Love My Enemy Read Online Free PDF Page B

that.'
    Ruby stared at her, really stared. 'Ye don't know
what I'm talkin' about, do ye? I thought his sister
would have said.'
    'Said what?'
    'What happened.'
    Tasha swallowed hard. She felt like a little kid again,
left out, sent off to the playroom while her parents argued.
She felt about five years old. 'So what did happen?'
    'Their da was shot dead a coupla years back. Two
hooded gunmen came to the house, murdered him right
there in the livin' room.' Her voice dropped and she
looked a little distant. 'The like of that's not supposed to
happen in a livin' room, is it?'
    Tasha stared back at her, horrified. 'I'd no idea,' she
said at last. 'Oh, God! Poor Gary. . . poor Zee.'
    Ruby nodded, making her metal jewellery clang.
'Afterwards Gary turned kinda bitter. . . closed off like.
So, I'm just warnin' ye, don't expect too much from him.'
    Zee's words yesterday evening came echoing back to
Tasha. There's just Mum . . . she had said, and Tasha had
assumed that meant her parents were divorced. After all,
her own parents were divorced. Half the world was
divorced or re-married. The fire roared in her ears.
Being dead, let alone shot dead, had never even entered
her head.
    After that Tasha couldn't help staring at Gary. Every
time he threw her a nod or a wink she smiled back. She
had known right away it wasn't just his blue eyes and
golden curls that attracted her. There was something
more, something on the inside. Zee had called Gary a
loner but Zee was wrong. Gary was just like her – lonely – which was quite different. Well, she could help him,
she could be there for him.
    Every time someone passed round a can, Tasha took a
swig. She smoked till she felt sick. Later when they
moved away from the bonfire it seemed the most natural
thing in the world to link arms with Ruby and the rest of
them, and sway through the backstreets together.
    The backstreets. They were dark and exciting, like
something out of the Dickens novels she studied at
school. She tried not to stare at the tiny red-bricked
houses with net curtains in the windows. The streets
were barely wide enough for two cars to pass by. Red,
white and blue bunting was strung between the houses
like Victorian washing lines. Everywhere red, white and
blue. Even the kerbstones were freshly painted in the
colours of the Union Jack. Each individual house was
flying a flag, the Union Jack or the flag of Ulster – a
red cross on a white background with a clenched fist in
the middle.
    At the end of some streets huge murals were painted
onto gable walls. King Billy astride a white horse
seemed to be the favourite, riding high in detailed
paintings of ancient battle scenes. And slogans
everywhere.
    No Surrender.
    1690.
    No Pope here.
     
    Tasha had seen it on news programmes, of course, but
it hadn't looked like this. It had been safe then, something
happening hundreds of miles away. But this was here,
now, above her, around her, plastered on every surface, so
real it practically leapt off the wall, every figure poised to
kill, every slogan screaming. Sirens wailed throughout
the night as fire engines raced to douse bonfires and
policemen took charge of street drunks.
    Tasha had never felt so excited or so anxious. She
kept Gary constantly in sight, worried that if she got lost
in this city, she might never get back home. When they
stopped to buy chips – real chips in real newspaper – she
knew she had never tasted anything so meltingly
delicious. The salt made the inside of her cheeks tingle
and the warm grease filled up her stomach in a way that
Redbales' low-fat oven chips never did. If only Gary
would pay her a little more attention this would be the
best night of her entire life.
    At last he did. They all linked arms, three rows of
six people – but Gary sought her out specially. He
linked arms with her in the middle of the first row and
they marched hard, tramping home through the backstreets,
singing at the very top of their voices. Tasha's
spirits soared even higher.