Lifesaving for Beginners

didn’t tell Damo about it because he might worry about Sully getting tied to a chair and shot in the head when he’s at the war.
    Apart from the buses and the postboxes, things look pretty much the same. The sweets in the shops are the same as the ones we get in Brighton. I checked when Faith was buying cigarettes in the Spar in the city centre. They have Mars Duo, which happens to be my favourite chocolate bar on account of it being bigger than an ordinary Mars bar. I also like the Mars Duo ice cream, but I didn’t get to check the freezer to see if they had those.
    Outside the house, Faith hands me the note that she has folded and folded until it’s about the size of a stamp. I unfold most of it and push it through the letterbox. It doesn’t make any sound when it lands.
    I say, ‘There,’ instead of saying, ‘What are we going to do now?’ which is what I really want to say.
    Faith says, ‘Thanks.’
    I say, ‘For what?’
    When Faith smiles, she doesn’t look as thin and worried as before. Rob tells Faith not to smile at him because it makes him do things he doesn’t want to do, like the dishes, or watching a film that’s not in English.
    She punches my arm and says, ‘I’m glad you’re here.’
    I don’t punch her back. Mam said you should never hit a girl. Besides, I might hurt her by accident.
    Not many people know this but I’m a lot stronger than I look.

 
    May 1987
    Me and Ed and Minnie are watching Top of the Pops . It must be Thursday.
    Minnie says, ‘Mel and Kim are still at number eight.’ We love Mel and Kim. We have Mel and Kim hats. We put them on and do the Mel and Kim dance. I am Mel. Minnie is Kim. I am a better dancer but the hat looks better on Minnie.
    Something happens. I’m not sure what. I look down and am surprised to see the top of my jeans darkening with wet. It feels warm.
    ‘Jesus, Kat, did you piss yourself ?’ Minnie says. Ed laughs, because Minnie said, ‘piss’. He loves bad language. All ten-year-old boys love the word ‘piss’.
    I’ve been feeling strange all day. There have been pains. Tight clutches of pain that are gone as suddenly as they arrive. I ate a McDonald’s for lunch. I put it down to that. Now, with the water gushing from me, I’m not so sure. I sit on the couch.
    Minnie says, ‘Be quiet.’ I don’t realise I have made any sound. She closes the door. ‘My mother will hear you.’
    Ed sits on the couch beside me. ‘Is Kat OK?’ he asks Minnie.
    Minnie says, ‘Don’t worry, Ed.’ She grabs my hand and tries to pull me up. ‘Kat’s just got a pain in her tummy. I’ll take her to my room.’
    Ed says, ‘I’ll go and tell my mammy,’ and Minnie runs after him while I wrestle with another pain. It hurts more than the last one.
    Minnie says, ‘Shut up, would you?’ She’s got Ed in a headlock. He’s struggling but he doesn’t say anything, which means he’s scared.
    I say, ‘Let him go,’ when the pain loosens its grip.
    Minnie says, ‘He’ll tell your mam.’ Ed begins to cry. He doesn’t cry often but when he does, he lifts the roof of the house. I feel a kind of relief. Resignation. Ed will tell Mum and she will come and she’ll know what to do.
    The next pain terrifies me. Up to now, the most painful thing that ever happened to me was getting my finger caught in the hinge of the hood of my doll’s pram.
    ‘Help me, Minnie.’ I think I shout it.
    Ed looks as scared as I feel. He struggles out of Minnie’s grip and runs out of the room. For once, Minnie looks unsure.
    I say, ‘What will I do?’
    Minnie shakes her head. ‘I don’t know,’ she says. That’s the first time she’s ever said that.
    I hear the sound of footsteps coming down the hall. I know it is Minnie’s mother. It’s the plink-plink of her stilettos against the floor that gives her away. No matter how many babies she holds in her arms, she insists on high heels. She says they’re all she has left, whatever that means.
    ‘Girls?’ she calls as she approaches. ‘Minnie? Kat? What’s going o—’ I look up. She stands in the doorway, looking at me. Her mouth is a circle of shock. Her hands fly to her face.
    ‘Jesus, Mary and Joseph,’ she whispers.
    I begin to cry.

 
    We’re in a café that’s called the Cream Bun, which is a pretty good name for a café but not as good as the Funky Banana. The Christmas tree is a silver, artificial one with flashing lights. If you’re going to put a Christmas tree up this early, you’d