STALKED AND STOLEN

Chapter 24

I couldn’t believe it. I was scared to touch the pages in case I ruined or smudged the contents. The first few sketches were of houses and kids playing in the street. It felt like I could just dip my hand in and pull them out, it was that realistic. I flicked the page, careful not to crease or ruin the pages, and I stopped on the face of a woman. It looked just like a photograph. Every single line of her face, the tear ducts in her eyes, even little hairs in her nostrils. I was completely amazed.

I turned again, but then stopped still. I saw me. My face, my big, round eyes, I looked sad. My hair was messy. I turned again and saw me sleeping, curled up in the back of the van, my hands resting at the side of my face.

I jumped when the book was snatched out my hands, and I looked up at an angry Tommy.

“What the fuck? Don’t you understand privacy?”

“I’m sorry, it was just... it was there, with the magazines.”

Tommy shook his head, his eyebrows dipped into a frown. His blue eyes reeked of rage.

I rubbed my sweaty hands on my pants and cleared my throat. Tommy rolled up the book and stuffed it into the pocket of his hoody, his overalls gone.

“They’re good. They’re really good.”

He ignored me. He walked over to the little side table near the sofa and scooped up a set of keys.

“Wow, now this is awkward,” I said. I stood up, my backpack in hand. I wanted to see the rest of the book. Not just because he’d drawn me, but because he was incredibly talented. “Your talent is wasted.”

“I don’t show people my work.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t meant to... but they’re really good. You should show them off.”

“Let’s go.” He walked past me and out the door. I followed, my little legs trying to keep up with him. I knew he was pissed at me.

When we got outside he pulled down the shutter to the garage and secured it with a bolt lock and key.

“You off now, Tommy?” one of his friends shouted.

We both looked over to the lad with a beanie hat on who was still leaning over the open bonnet of a car.

Tommy held his hand up in a still wave, and we walked away. We walked a different way to the way I’d come, but after our silent journey, we ended up at his nanna’s house. The house with the coloured roof and swing. He didn’t knock, he used his key, and we stepped inside.

I liked the smell of the place, and my trainers sunk into a soft grey carpet that ran along the hallway and up a flight of stairs. We took a door to the right, and I saw his nanna, sitting in a black leather chair, watching TV.

“You alright, son,” she said. She put down her cup and turned to look at us. Her face dropped when she saw me standing beside him. “I need to talk to you.” She stood up and stalked towards Tommy.

“Sit down. Won’t be long,” Tommy said.

His nanna pulled him out the room and into the hallway. I knew the conversation would have been about me. I sat on the sofa feeling awkward. My fingers knitted together, then I bit my thumb nail, then I crossed my legs and un crossed them. I settled on looking at the photos his nanna had hung on her wall above me. They were held in little silver frames, and I knew instantly that it was Tommy by his massive blue eyes. He was blonde as a kid, and quite petite. They were all of him. I could see how much she adored him.

When they walked back into the room I stood up. I hadn’t ever felt so awkward in my whole eighteen years of life. His nana made her way back over to the chair and sat down. I got the feeling she didn’t like me.