Waiting for Wednesday

she considered leaving her own house and simply walking away from
everything that was going on in there.Instead, she went up to the
alarm in the hall ceiling and pressed the button to turn it off, then called out for
Chloë. There was no reply but the cat dashed past her and up the stairs
    The kitchen was full of fumes. Frieda saw
that the handle of her frying pan was blistered and twisted. That must be the nasty
smell. There were beer bottles, empty glasses, a lovely bowl had been used as an ashtray
and two dirty plates lay on the table, which was sticky and stained. She cursed under
her breath and threw open the back door. Chloë was in the middle of the yard, and she
saw that Ted was there as well, sitting with his back against the far wall and his knees
drawn up to his chin. There were several cigarette butts scattered round him, and a beer
bottle at his feet.
    ‘Chloë.’
    ‘I didn’t hear you come
in.’
    ‘There’s quite a mess in
there.’
    ‘We were going to clear it
up.’
    ‘I’ve been speaking to Olivia.
You can stay here for one week.’
    ‘Great.’
    ‘But there are rules. This is my house
and you have to respect it and me. You clear things up, for a start. Properly. You
don’t smoke inside. Hello, Ted.’
    He raised his face and stared at her. His
eyes were red-rimmed and his lips were bloodless. ‘Hi,’ he managed.
    ‘How long have you been
here?’
    ‘I was just going.’
    ‘Have you both been at school
today?’
    Chloë shrugged and gave her a defiant look.
‘Some things are more important than school, you know. In case you forgot,
Ted’s mother was killed.’
    ‘I know.’
    ‘If you had to choose between double
biology and helping your friend, which would you choose?’
    ‘Helping friends is something you do
after double biology.’ She looked at Ted. ‘When did you last eat?’
    ‘We were going to have
pancakes,’ said Chloë, ‘but they went wrong.’
    ‘I’ll make you some
toast.’
    ‘I don’t want to talk to you
about stuff, if that’s what you’re thinking.’
    ‘It wasn’t.’
    ‘That’s all everyone seems to
want. For me to talk about my feelings and weep and then you can hug me and tell me
everything will be OK in the end.’
    ‘I’m just going to make toast.
Does your father know you’re here and skipping school, Ted?’
    ‘No. I’m not a child.’
    ‘I know you’re not.’
    ‘My dad’s got his mind on other
things. Mum was shagging another man.’
    ‘That’s a painful thing for you
to find out.’
    ‘Do you want to know how I feel about
it? Because I’m not going to talk about that. Or anything else.’
    There was a knocking at the door, hard and
insistent, although Frieda wasn’t expecting anyone.
    ‘Come inside now,’ she said, to
the two of them. ‘I’ll see who’s here.’
    Judith stood on the doorstep. She was
wearing a man’s shirt over baggy jeans held up by rope, and broken flip-flops.
There was a colourful bandanna wrapped round her chestnut curls. Her eyes, set wide in
her face, seemed bluer than when Frieda had seen her at that awful interview, and there
was vivid orange lipstick on her full mouth, which was turned down sullenly.
‘I’m here for Ted. Is he here?’
    ‘I’m making toast for him. Do
you want some?’
    ‘OK.’
    ‘This way.’
    Frieda led the girl into the kitchen. She
gave a nod to Ted, who nodded back, then raised her hand in half-greeting to Chloë, whom
she obviously knew.
    ‘Louise is clearing out Mum’s
clothes.’
    ‘She can’t do that!’
Ted’s voice was sharp.
    ‘She is.’
    ‘Why can’t she fuck off to her
own house?’
    ‘Dora’s shut herself in her room
and she’s wailing. And Dad’s shouting.’
    ‘At you, or at Louise?’
    ‘Everybody, really. Or
nobody.’
    ‘He’s probably drunk.’
    ‘Stop it!’ She put her hands up
as if to cover her ears.
    ‘Face it, Judith. Mum was fucking
another man and Dad’s a drunk.’
    ‘Don’t! Don’t be so
cruel.’
    ‘It’s for your own good.’
But he looked ashamed of himself.
    ‘Will you come back with me?’
his sister asked. ‘It’s better if we’re there together.’
    ‘Here’s your toast,’ said
Frieda. ‘Help yourself to the honey.’
    ‘Just butter.’
    ‘I’m very sorry about your
mother.’
    Judith shrugged her thin shoulders. Her blue
eyes glittered in her freckled face.
    ‘At least you’ve got Ted,’
said Chloë, urgently. ‘At least you two can help each other. Think if you were
alone.’
    ‘You were