The World Out There - 27. Twenty-Seven

Suddenly he had someone at Nurton Cross who was interested in him, with whom he had made a connection. Aiden and Dr Sayeed both kept saying that he needed to make friends, but Britney was not a friend he wanted. She seemed to treat him as her own personal pet. She’d demand that he do things for her - fetch her this, or bring her that, or else he would have to listen to her as she complained and moaned in her latest monologue about how poorly treated she was by the whole world.

Over the following days, he tried to avoid Britney, to keep as far away from her as he could. But most times, he failed. She seemed to seek him out at any opportunity. Suddenly, he had become her new best friend.

There was also the worry about what others would do if they found out who he really was. That was why he was desperate to keep Britney happy, in the hope that she would keep his secret. But he had quickly realised that Britney liked to shock and upset people if she knew something that would upset someone. Then, sooner or later, she would use it and then sit back and congratulate herself. How would the other patients on the ward react to knowing he was a “child killer”? It wasn’t as if he could go around the ward and canvas the other patients. But those newspaper articles had told him what people thought about him, even if most of it wasn’t true, and would the other people on the ward be any different? They’d hate him just as much and… He couldn’t take the risk, but already he’d lost control over that.

It was just a matter of time before Britney told everyone, before she got bored and told his secret to everyone, just to see him hurt. If he kept her happy then maybe he might delay her. Could he ever stop her?

The worst was what had been written in those news articles - what they had said about him - the hate that had poured out of them, the hate directed at him. Why did they hate him so much? But that question was soon pushed away by the hate, how much they all hated him. What they said about him were so many lies, but those lies had been so filled with hate, and it was the hate he remembered, the hate that kept leaping up into his mind, the hate that would catch at him. They hated him so much.

And with that hate also came what his mother had said about him in those two interviews. How could she have lied so much about him? She was his mother, in the end. Had she hated him so much that it made her tell those lies? He had never been the top of her priority list, but the way she had lied about him - she could only have done that if she completely hated him. That could only be the answer. That answer had slowly wormed its way into his mind, that horrible but all too real realisation. It wasn’t just that his mother didn’t love him - she actually hated him.

What had he ever done to her to cause her to hate him so much? He had always tried to please her to keep her happy, though that had always seemed an impossible task. Had that not been enough? Could he have done more? Could he have been a better son for her? Could he have… Or could he have never done enough? Did she just hate him? Whatever he had done, would she have just hated him? Was it her nature that made she hate him? Was she just someone who hated first? Was it really down to her and not him?

His mind would repeatedly return to these questions. Constantly, his mind would return to his mother’s behaviour - the things she had shouted at him, the way she had constantly treated him. And the answer kept coming back, louder and louder, that his mother hated him.

That dream he’d had, that Friday night, had returned over the following nights. That crowd of unknown people ripping apart the prison van to get at him because they hated him so much, that mob screaming for his blood and his death. Each time he would suddenly wake up from that dream, lying in his bed, his body shaking and his lungs gasping for breath as panic flooded his mind. For a moment, his mind would be searching for reality, searching for signs that he was still lying in bed in his room. Then he would lay there, for what seemed like hours, trying to find sleep again.

<><><><>

The following Saturday morning, Liam was sat in the Common Room reading his latest novel. For once, Britney wasn’t interested in him. She was off bothering Wayne and Arron. The two lads were playing pool while Britney tried to push herself between them, though this mostly went unnoticed. Liam wasn’t bothered with what she was doing. He was just pleased that she wasn’t interested in him, for once. It gave him the chance to just sit and read, unbothered by her. He’d picked his favourite armchair, the one tucked away in the corner of the room and was sat there reading his latest book.

The room’s door suddenly being pushed open made him look up from his book, but all he saw was Jared walking into the room, followed by the nurse Gary. Jared had his head down, his body language was awkward, almost embarrassed, but Jared often looked like he was embarrassed by the world around him. He hurried over towards to the table, sitting in the centre of the room, as Liam returned to his book.

He was only able to read for a few moments before the door was suddenly opened again. This time, Janet marched straight into the room, followed by Val and Aiden. Liam stared across the room at her. He had never seen Janet here on a Saturday. She never seemed to work at weekends, instead being there on the ward Monday to Friday. She was more casually dressed today in a loose cotton shirt and neatly ironed canvas trousers, though she still looked as managerial and in command as she always did.

“Is everyone here?” she called across to Gary, who was now stood next to the pool table.

“Yes,” Gary replied.

“Right, ladies and gentlemen,” Janet called out to the whole room. “I need you all to remain here, in this room, because this morning we are going to conduct a room search for contraband.”

“No you’re fucking not!” Britney’s voice called out across the room. “I’ve human rights and you lesbos aren’t going to go through my room, sniffing my knickers.”

“Britney, no one has any choice in this because it’s part of ward policy that we can do this,” Janet replied. “So there’s no point in arguing.”

“I’ve got human rights,” Britney called back.

“You’ve got to be a human first,” Wayne sneered at her.

“Ladies and gentlemen, this room search is going ahead, and you all need to stay here until it is finished, and there are no arguments here.” Janet again addressed the whole room, her voice so commanding that the room fell silent.

Liam glanced over towards Britney, who was now standing to one side of the pool table with her arms folded across her chest. Her face was set in a hard and angry expression, but her mouth was firmly closed. He glanced back at Janet.

“Gary will stay here with you all,” Janet announced before she turned around and left the room, quickly followed by Aiden and Val. Once they were gone, Gary quickly walked over the now closed door. As the room leapt into hurried noise, sudden and hurried conversations erupted between everyone there, or so it seemed to him. He kept his eyes on Gary, but the nurse didn’t leave the room when he reached the door. Instead he stopped and stood next to it, actually leaning against the wall as if he were guarding that door.

The room buzzed with other people’s conversations now, the air around him filled with their words, hurried and excited conversations. Some voices rippled with anger; some rippled with worried or concern; others still rippled with excitement. He didn’t listen in to any particular one. The voices were all so hurried that he couldn’t have concentrated on one conversation. Instead, he tried to return his attention back to his novel, but he couldn’t. Something so unusual was suddenly happening, what should he make of it?

<><><><>

He had been trying to read his novel for nearly forty minutes. Every time he glanced down at it, his mind would jump to one concern or another, or else he would hear snippets of someone else’s conversation, and his mind would find something else to worry about. Why were they searching for contraband? What contraband where they searching for? Why had they chosen today? It must be important for Janet to be here but why did they decide to search for it now?

His mind raced with questions, none of which could he find any answers to. It was so frustrating, and yet he couldn’t stop his mind throwing up these questions. His novel was no distraction now.

Again, the room’s door opened. It had been opening every few minutes since Janet’s announcement, one nurse or another entering the room and whispering something or other to Gary before hurrying back out of the room again. As he heard the sound of the door sweeping over the room’s tatty carpet, Liam looked from his unread book. This time it was Aiden entering the room. Aiden quickly whispered something to Gary, but he didn’t leave the room straight after. Instead, Aiden strode across the room, his face set into a cold, unreadable expression. As Aiden passed the middle of the room, walking past the now neglected pool table, Liam realised that he was walking straight towards him. What was happening? What did Liam want with him? Liam just stared at him as Aiden walked the short distance to him.

“Liam, can you come with me?” Aiden said, as he stopped in front of him, his voice level and almost unreadable. Was the man angry at him or upset? What was happening?

Liam just nodded his reply, closed his book, and stood up.

As he followed Aiden out of the room, he heard Britney’s sharp voice calling out, “Look who’s in trouble!”

Liam dipped his head, avoiding eye-contact with anyone there, as he hurried out of the room behind Aiden.

Out in the main corridor, not far from his room, he found Janet standing there, holding the manilla folder that he’d hidden under his mattress. His stomach snapped into a tight knot as he was faced with the hard, stern expression creasing up Janet’s face.

Aiden stopped in front of Janet. Liam stood next to him. It was the place he felt he should be standing.

“Where did you get this?” Janet said, holding up the manilla folder.

He glanced over at Aiden, as if the man would tell him what to say, but Aiden just looked back at him with a worried expression. Had Aiden seen what was inside that folder?

He looked back at Janet. Should he lie? He could easily lie. Should he protect Britney? She said she would destroy him if he didn’t do what she said. At school, everyone said not to snitch, not to tell the teachers, not to tell on other kids at school, not to tell even on the bullies. Where had that got him?

“Britney gave it to me,” he said, the inside of his mouth suddenly running as dry as sand.

“Why did she give you this?” Janet asked, a puzzled expression filling her face.

“She said she knows who I am and if I didn’t do what she says she’ll tell everyone what I did, and everyone will hate me.” He felt a salty tear forming in the corner of each eye as he spoke. Quickly, he blinked them away. He couldn’t just rub them away - he couldn’t be seen crying.

“And did she say why she did that, threaten you like that?” Janet said, her voice dropping into a low tone.

“She said I embarrassed her during The Group.”

“Oh, God…” Janet hissed, anger now flashing across her face.

“I’m sorry,” Liam replied, falling into that moment of panic that he’d caused her anger.

“It’s not you, Liam,” Janet said, the anger on her face quickly being replaced by concern. “This isn’t our fault, and you’re not the one I’m blaming.”

Liam just nodded his reply, but the expression on her face told him he wasn’t at the centre of the blame here.

“Now Liam, why don’t you go and talk with Aiden? I’ve got someone else I need to have a talk with,” Janet said, momentarily raising up that manila folder in her hand.

“We’ll go to one of the Quiet Rooms,” Aiden said.

Liam again just nodded his reply before following Aiden off into the one of the ward’s Quiet Rooms.

Once there, the two of them had sat down together at the small round table in the room, Aiden rested his hands on the table’s Formica top and looked at Liam.

“Did you read those newspaper cuttings Britney gave you?”

“Yes,” Liam replied.

“They weren’t about you.”

“But they said they were. Some of them even used my name.”

“They weren’t writing about the real you. What they said was all made-up to win their own political arguments.”

“Why did they say all that? They didn’t know me, but they made me out to be some psycho nut.”

“They were just using what had happened to win their own arguments.”

“What?” Liam stared back at Aiden. What had happened? Did he mean Rhys Clarke?

“When you killed Rhys Clarke.”

“Yes,” Liam quietly answered. It was always that thing.

“There was a big political debate about knife crime happening at the time, especially teenagers using knifes. A lot of right-wing politicians and right-wing big rent-a-mouths were all making noise about stopping knife crime, but they were stupid ideas. They wanted to ban anyone under eighteen from buying a knife, or even owing one. And they wanted any teenagers owning knives to be sent to prison.”

“That’s harsh.”

“It was stupid. I’ve got a nephew who owns a lot of knives and he’s only fifteen. He uses them to build the most amazing models. Those idiots would have wanted him punished just for having his modelling knives. Well, at the height of all this nonsense and panic, you killed that other boy.”

“Yes,” the word felt dry in his mouth.

“So many people wanted you to be a monster and a devil because you’d used a knife, yet they couldn’t be bothered to find out the truth about what happened. They screamed their ignorance from newspapers and websites and podcasts and even the television, and not very clever people believed them … people too lazy to know any better.”

“Is that why they were banging on the side of my prison van and shouting at me as they took me out of it, during my trial?”

“Yes. They were driven stupid by all that hate and stupid arguments.”

“I thought they wanted to kill me. I was afraid they were going to kill me.”

“It must have been terrifying.”

“It was. I hated it when they took me to the court.”

“And none of them knew anything about you. They certainly didn’t know what had really happened.”

“Are people really that stupid?”

“God, yes!! As a nurse, I have met so many people who are really stupid and think they are so clever. My partner is a nurse, too. They work as a Nurse Practitioner in an A&E department and they are always saying, ‘Don’t be surprised at how stupid people can be.’ So many people injure themselves because they don’t even think about the simplest safety precautions.”

“Such as?”

“Using a nail-gun and nailing their own hand to a plank of wood … and that was only last week.”

“Oh,” a shudder of distaste rippled up his spine. To do that to yourself must be so painful.

“People quickly believe what they read in newspapers and online without asking any questions. When the judge at your trial ruled that your barrister couldn’t use the defence that you were bullied by that boy, I knew there was far more going on than we were told.”

“You followed my trial? Did you know I would be coming here?”

“No, I didn’t, but I followed your trial because my partner was interested in it, and that drew me in. Everything that was said at your trial told me we were barely being told the whole. Then you were sentenced. We were told you were coming here, and Janet told me I’d be your Named Nurse. So I read all the notes we were given about you, including all the police statements about what happened. It told me what had really happened. I knew what they had said about you in the media were biased lies just to win their arguments.”

“You know a lot about me.”

“Yes, but I cannot tell anyone outside of the hospital, about you.”

“Not even your partner?”

“No, but we’re both nurses, so we don’t talk about our different patients. Confidentiality is really important.”

“Some of those articles, in that folder, said the death penalty should have been brought back to use on me. They wanted me dead.”

“No, they wanted to win their arguments and used you for that. There are always stupid people who scream that we need the death penalty back, especially when there’s a high profile case like yours, when they haven’t a clue about it. It’s no deterrent and never has been.”

“How do you know that?” Aiden’s seemed to know a lot about it.

“My brother’s a criminologist and he researched it for his MA. He was looking at how many people’s attitudes and beliefs are not related to the facts, and he used capital punishment. It was years ago but he still talks about it.”

“Oh, yeah,” Liam replied, nodding his head. He’d never thought about it. It wasn’t even a subject his mother had been very vocal about. But his mother… “My mum was interviewed for two of those articles.”

“I saw that.”

“And she told all those lies about me. She said I’d always played with knives and thrown knives at her and that she was afraid of me. She lied.”

“I don’t want to be nasty, but look at the way she has treated you since you came here: she hasn’t had any contact with you for months.”

“Six months now.”

“There you are, she has almost abandoned you.”

“But she lied so much about me in those interviews. She didn’t say anything that was true… She must really hate me.”

“She probably doesn’t feel much for you. She dropped you really quickly.”

“Yes,” he quietly admitted. Even though he hadn’t seen her for so long, the way she had treated still hurt.

“Do you know what a narcissist is?”

“No.”

“Simply, they think they are the most important person wherever they are. They are certain they are the most important person in their own life, but they also think they are the most important person in the lives of everyone they know. They think they are the most important person in any room they are in, and they think they are right on everything they say. If they say it, they think, then it must be right.”

“Oh…” That all sounded far too familiar. “Do you think my mum is one?”

“I don’t know, I’ve never met her. But the way she tried to treat Janet is the way a narcissist would behave. If your mother is a narcissist, she wouldn’t think twice about lying about you in those interviews. She would just see it as a way of making money and she’d believe that no one could possibly spot her lies because she would be too clever with the lies she told.”

“But I easily saw she was lying. She was just saying what those other articles had said about me, and they didn’t know me.”

“Narcissists think they are clever - they very rarely are. Often they can’t even see that everyone can see that they are lying.”

“My mum is like that, a lot.”

“And does she see the harm she does?”

“No.” He fell silent for a moment. What Aiden had said was bouncing around his mind. The way Aiden had described his mother was far too real, and Aiden had never met her. “It wasn’t my fault she lied about me?”

“No, it wasn’t.”

“And I didn’t make Britney do what she did?”

“Hell, no. That was all down to Britney.”

“Thank you,” he told Aiden, and he meant it.

<><><><>

When he eventually returned to The Common Room, just before lunch, he found the room with a very quiet, and an almost subdued mood hung over it. Barely anyone looked at him as he entered the room. His favourite armchair was empty, so he’d walked quickly across the room, still holding onto his novel, and sat down on it.

Once sat down, he opened his book, but he didn’t start reading it - he just used it as a disguise so that he could scan the room without anyone else noticing him. That’s what he hoped would happen.

Slowly he glanced up from his book and let his eyes equally slowly scan the room. Everyone he recognised was still here in the room. Chrissy and TJ were sat together on the sofa in front of him, watching the television. Wayne and Arron were playing some card game, sat at one of the square tables there, while Gary sat at the same table but just watching them. Jared was sat at the long table, slowly writing in a folder. He couldn’t see Britney anywhere there, and it was never easy to miss her. He couldn’t see Damien anywhere in the room either. Damien was one of those alpha lads who strutted around the ward as if he owned the place. He was one of the few lads there Britney was always trying to flatter and grab his attention, though he seemed barely interested in her.

It was strange not having Britney in the room. He didn’t have to worry about her seeking him out and demanding that he act as her personal servant. He didn’t have to endure her blunt threats, and it felt so relaxing, but only for a brief moment. If she wasn’t in the room, it meant that Janet had taken her out of there, that Britney was in deep trouble over that folder of articles. He glanced down at his book. It wasn’t his fault she was in trouble: he hadn’t asked her to print off all those articles. He certainly hadn’t asked her to threaten him. He’d blamed himself for the bullying he’d received from Rhys Clarke; he’d blamed himself for not being strong enough to stand up to Rhys Clarke; he’d blamed himself for drawing attention to himself and making Rhys Clarke pick him out. He’d blamed himself every time his mother had shouted at him, blaming him for whatever had angered her: she was his mother, and, therefore, she must be right. But his mother had shown how little she cared about him. She probably knew him as little as she cared about him…

It wasn’t his fault.

He glanced over at Wayne and Arron, who were now laughing about something with Gary. That must be fun, being like that, being friends.

He glanced back at his book. He should read it and not upset himself.

The next moment the room’s door was pushed open as Cindi hurried through it.

“Lunch is here!” Cindi called out.

Liam closed his book and stood up from his armchair.

<><><><>

After lunch, Liam returned to the Common Room with everyone else. The subdued mood still hung over the room. Lunch had been almost surprisingly quiet. Usually during a meal, the Dining Room would be full of noise, mostly loud and even excited conversation. But that lunchtime, the conversations had been quiet and hushed, as if people were discussing embarrassing subjects in the lowest tones that they could. Part of him had almost been desperate to know what they were talking about but a large part of him was relieved that he had been left alone.

Now, he was sat at the long table there and working on some of his weekend homework. He was slowly writing another essay for Mrs Williams, this one was about Queen Mary, or “Bloody Mary,” as Mrs Williams had almost gleefully called her. Queen Mary had certainly had a lot of people executed. Even before the events of that morning, he had found it difficult to write this essay because he found Queen Mary so unlikeable. Now, as the morning’s events bounced around inside his mind, his attention for that essay was almost zero. As he tried to write it, an event from the morning would jump into his mind, especially the things Aiden had said to him.

Again, Gary had been left in charge of the Common Room, and now he was sat talking with Chrissy and TJ at one of the square little tables. He glanced over at Gary. His chin was covered with ginger stubble, as if he hadn’t shaved for a day or two, and his curly ginger hair was falling across his forehead in its usual haphazard way. Gary always seemed happy - nothing ever seemed to bring him down or upset him. He certainly never got angry. What was his secret to being happy? Was there a secret to being happy?

The room’s door opening made him look up. The room’s door had been opening a lot today, and always, it had grabbed at his attention. Again, he looked up. He saw Britney almost storm through the open door, a hard and angry expression on her face, quickly followed by Val. Val stopped just inside the room’s door after she had closed it behind herself. Britney stamped into the middle of the room and then stopped. She took a long and overly dramatic moment to look around herself. Liam hurriedly glanced down at his folder. ‘Don’t make eye contact and she won’t come over here.’ She was the last person he wanted to have talking to him … talking at him.

“Boys!” Britney’s voice called out.

He glanced casually at her, trying to look at her out of the corner of his eyes.

Britney rushed over towards Wayne and Arron, shouting, “Did you miss me?”

“Fuck off, Britney,” Wayne replied, turning his back on her as he and Arron returned to their game of pool. But Britney seemed blind to this, pushing herself between them.

Liam felt the tension rush out of his body. She was ignoring him. He hadn’t thought he was so tense until he felt his body relaxing. He shouldn’t be so stupidly worried all the time. He returned his attention back to his essay.

He didn’t notice the passage of time. Every handful of minutes, he would glance up at the room’s clock as he tried to write his essay, tried to make Queen Mary sound interesting and not just the religious fanatic daughter of Henry VIII, which she was. Finally, he gave in and just wrote about her religious fanaticism, trying to make it more interesting essay than horror story.

He had actually been writing for twenty minutes solidly when he heard the empty chair next to him being pulled out from under the table, its metal feet dragging across the carpet for a moment. He looked up and saw Britney sitting herself down on it. She had a strange, little smile on her face, but her eyes were staring straight at him. As soon as she had sat herself down, she leant in towards and said in almost a whisper: “You got all my privileges taken off me, you fucking creep.”

“No I didn’t,” he replied in his normal voice, keeping his tone level.

“You fucking did!” She hissed at him. “I’ve got no internet privileges, no phone privileges, they’ve even taken away my shampoos.”

“That wasn’t me.”

“Yes, it fucking was,” her voice remaining in that threatening whisper.

“You printed off all those articles about me. I didn’t ask you to. And you threatened me with them. You wanted me as your personal servant.”

“And you fucking grassed me up. You spineless little twat,”

“No. This is all your fault. You caused all this.”

“I’ll have you for this!” Her voice jumped into a shout as the anger jumped into her face.

“Britney, what are you doing?” Val said. She had suddenly appeared on the opposite side of the table, her arms folded across her chest and her eyes fixed on Britney.

“I’m just having a little friendly word with my mate, Liam, here,” Britney replied.

“Was she Liam?” Val asked him.

He looked up at Val and saw the stern and quizzical expression on her face. She didn’t believe Britney.

“Britney told me it was my fault that she has lost all her privileges…”

“No, I fucking didn’t!” Britney interrupted him, but he kept looking at Val as he finished his sentence.

“And I told her that it wasn’t because she had printed off all those articles, not me.”

“You fucking twat!” Britney almost shouted at him.

“Britney!” Val snapped. “You’ve already caused enough trouble.”

“He’s fucking lying. He always lies. He did it all himself. I’m only looking out for myself,” Britney protested.

“We’ve been here before. It was under your login that those articles were printed off. None of us are as stupid as you,” Val replied, deep annoyance rippling through her voice.

“He did it all himself and he’s got it in for me. I should fucking tell everyone here what he’s really like,” Britney shot back.

“That’s it, I’ve had enough of having to police you today. You’re spending the rest of the day in your room, alone,” Val said, her voice now hard and forceful.

“You can’t do this! I’ve got rights!” Britney screamed.

“You have responsibilities and you have broken almost all the rules here, and I’m tired of you. This is a therapeutic environment, and you have done everything you could not to engage with it. You break the rules just to hurt other people and that is not acceptable.” Val had walked the few steps around the table as she spoke, only stopping when she was stood over Britney. “Now get to your room.”

“I’m not a kid! I have rights and I’m staying here!” Britney shouted back at Val.

“If you don’t go to your room now, then we will have to restrain you,” Val said, the volume of her voice dropping but not losing any of its forcefulness.

“You’re not fucking touching me, lesbo!” Britney again shouted.

“Gary, I need a hand here!” Val called out, not taking her eyes off Britney.

“All right, all right,” Britney said, slowly standing up from her chair. “I’m going to my room to get away from you, lesbo, not because you want me to.”

“Whatever,” Val hissed.

As she pushed her chair back under the table, Britney suddenly turned her head towards him, staring at Liam for a brief moment, and snapped, “I’ll fucking have you, you spineless twat.”

“No you won’t,” Val said as she shepherded Britney away from the table.

“Don’t touch me, lesbo!” Britney screamed as Val escorted through the room’s door.

With a whooshing noise, the door closed, the sound filling the room as a strange silence had fallen over it. Liam stared back down at his folder, looking at his own handwriting but not seeing any of the words. Were they all looking at him? He didn’t want to look up and see all their faces staring back at him. Why couldn’t he think of anything to write in his essay now?

“Jesus, what crawled up her fanny and died?” Wayne’s voice cut through the silence.

“It’s Britney, who cares?” Arron’s voiced replied.

“Someone, turn up the telly,” a male voice called out.

Liam silently let out a sigh.

<><><><>

He’d returned to the Common Room after dinner that evening. Dinner had been sausages and chips - overcooked sausages and very dry chips. Dinners were always bad on Saturday evenings. He wished he knew why. The food wasn’t bad during the week, though it was on a four-week rolling menu. After four weeks, the same meals would be served again. But Saturday evenings, their food was always overcooked, often dry and tasteless. Was the worst chef always on duty on a Saturday evening? It was one of the many questions he’d asked himself, but never bothering to try and find the answer. The question would flash into his mind and he would dwell on it for a while before the question would slip from his mind.

He’d sat down on one of the sofas there to read his book. Another lad had already sat in his favourite chair, so he’d sat on that sofa instead.

He had finally begun to concentrate on his book when the sofa shifted under him. Someone else had sat down on the it too. He looked up and saw that Chrissy had sat next to him, with TJ sat next to her, looking around her at him.

“We saw that you upset Britney,” Chrissy said, glee rippling through her voice.

“You really upset her,” TJ added, smiling broadly.

“You really fucked her off,” Chrissy said, giving TJ a push with her shoulder.

“So what?” Liam replied. If they were going to have a go at him over it all, then he was just going to walk away and ignore them. It wasn’t his fault, and he wasn’t going to take any shit over her behaviour.

“We really like people who piss off Britney,” Chrissy said, she, too, was grinning back at him now.

“We love the way Janet pisses her off all the time,” TJ added. He was now pressed up close to Chrissy, almost looking over her shoulder.

“Yeah, but Liam really pissed her off,” Chrissy said, almost directing her words out of the corner of her mouth at TJ. “And it was great to see,” her final words directed at Liam now.

“But I didn’t do much. Britney did everything, she got herself into all that trouble herself,” he replied.

“That’s what’s so Britney about Britney: she always gets herself into all this shit,” Chrissy said. “Then she goes and tries and blames someone else for it.”

“She’s always making a tit of herself and then trying to get someone else into trouble for it. She’s tried to blame us for her shit,” TJ said.

“But we loved the way you stood up to her, earlier. You really told her,” Chrissy said.

“I only told her the truth. It was her fault she was in so much trouble,” Liam replied. Their sudden praise was making him feel uncomfortable, as if he wanted to pull away from them. He hadn’t done anything particularly brave - just told Britney the truth.

“Yes, and it really pissed her off. Respect mate,” TJ said, smiling his broad and very handsome smile at him.

“Yeah, anyway, we wanted to know if you wanted to come and watch TV with us,” Chrissy said.

Liam glanced over at the big television at the far end of the room.

“Not that one,” Chrissy added. “TJ has a portable TV in his room.”

“My real dad gave it to me,” TJ added.

“Casualty is on soon, and I love it … all those doctors saving lives,” Chrissy said, excitement bubbling in her voice.

“I don’t really watch Casualty,” Liam quietly said.

“Don’t worry, I hate it, and I take the piss out of it all through it,” TJ added.

“Yeah, it’s a dead serious medical drama and you sit there taking the piss. No respect,” Chrissy said, turning her head to speak her words directly at PJ.

“Come on, mate. It’ll be fun,” TJ said to him, obviously ignoring Chrissy.

“Okay,” he agreed. It sounded better than sitting there on his own.

“Come on then!” Chrissy almost shouted as she jumped up from the sofa. He followed after her, along with TJ.

Chrissy rushed up the table where Cindi was sat, talking with a young woman whose name Liam didn’t know. She was a new patient to the ward, arriving only a few days before. Cindi had looked up as Chrissy hurriedly stopped at that table, her own energy and movement obviously announcing her own presence.

“What can I do for you Chrissy?” Cindi said.

“TJ, Liam and I are going to watch Casualty on TJ’s telly in his room,” Chrissy said, the words hurrying out of her mouth.

“Watching television with two boys, people will start talking about you,” Cindi said, smiling back at Chrissy. The young woman sat next to her sniggered at Cindi’s words, but Chrissy just started back at her.

“Is that yes or no?” Chrissy asked her, puzzlement on her face.

“It’s a yes. Enjoy yourselves,” Cindi said.

“Great, come on,” Chrissy called out to Liam and TJ, as she now hurried off to the room’s door, with TJ striding behind her with his long-legged walk.

As he turned to follow them, he saw Cindi smiling at him. She was smiling her friendly smile at him, the smile that opened up her whole mouth, exposing her white, even teeth behind her red lips, her smile that pushed up the whole of her mouth.

He quickly followed behind TJ.

<><><><>

Sunday morning he met Chrissy and TJ for breakfast. The three of them had collected their dry and now overcooked breakfasts, and were sat around a table together.

“Do you ever think that they train people to cook these bad breakfasts?” Chrissy said. “Is there a course in catering college on cooking crap breakfasts?”

“You really overthink stuff,” TJ replied.

“Yeah, but our breakfasts are always crap,” Chrissy said.

“So they don’t put the best cooks on for breakfast,” TJ said.

“And our breakfasts are always crap,” Chrissy told him.

As Liam took another bite of his soggy toast, he saw Britney stomping across the Dining Room towards their table. Why hadn’t he seen her entering the room?

Britney stopped at their table, glared down at him, and demanded:

“Liam, get my breakfast and make sure it’s something nice.”

“Shit. What did your last slave die of?” Chrissy shot back at her.

“I wasn’t talking to you, bitch!” Britney snapped, before returning her attention back onto Liam. “Get my breakfast now or I’ll tell everyone why you’re here.”

“We’re all here because of something,” TJ told her.

“If I want to hear from you, queer boy, I’ll smack it out of you,” Britney snapped at TJ now.

“Go on, smack me, bitch. There’s three nurses in the room already. Smack me and see how fast they lock you in your room,” TJ said to her, smiling broadly as he did.

“Liam, get my breakfast, now,” Britney demanded from him, obviously ignoring TJ.

“Liam’s eating his breakfast, so fuck off,” Chrissy told her.

“Liam, I bet your new mates don’t want to know the real reason you’re here. So get my breakfast now,” Britney almost snarled at him.

“As TJ said, we’re all here because of something and I know why you’re here,” Chrissy said. She, too, was smiling back at Britney now.

“No, you don’t,” Britney hissed.

“Yes, I do. Give my best to your sister… Kylie,” Chrissy said.

Britney’s face froze for a moment. It was as if she suddenly couldn’t think of anything else to say. He’d not seem her lost for words like that, for her to seem so small and helpless.

“I’m going to get my own breakfast. I don’t want you dirty queers touching it and poisoning it,” Britney announced, a moment later, before stomping away.

“How did you know your sister’s called Kylie?” TJ asked.

“Lucky guess?” Chrissy replied.

“Thanks for standing up for me,” Liam quietly told them.

“You’re our mate now,” TJ replied, smiling warmly at him.

“And it’s fun winding up Britney,” Chrissy said. “It’s getting easier and easier, but the stupid bitch always falls for it.”

“Why did we all hate Britney?” TJ asked.

“It’s just easier,” Chrissy replied.

“This toast is horrible,” Liam said pushing his plate of toast away from himself.

“This breakfast is rank,” TJ added.

“I told you, they train people to cook crap breakfasts,” Chrissy said.

<><><><>

In Monday afternoon’s Group, there was no Britney. This time Chrissy, Wayne and Aaron did most of the talking, but there wasn’t the almost constant snapping and negativity that had happened when Britney was there. Though he didn’t join in with the conversation, unless Janet asked him a direct question, keeping quiet was still his preferred option. He had enjoyed listening to the conversations that day.

As he had left the ward’s Meeting Room at the end of the meeting, hanging back and letting everyone else go first, he realised he hadn’t seen Britney all day. She had been there for breakfast, arriving just as the last serving was being handed out, just before the serving hatch would be closed and locked, but she seemed to ignore him. She’d taken her breakfast off to a table by herself. He’d been sat with Chrissy and TJ, eating their half-decent breakfasts that morning. Chrissy had been chatting away about the previous night’s television, which they had all watched together in TJ’s room. TJ was shooting in occasional comments, usually to disagree with Chrissy’s gushing praise for one program or another. Both Chrissy and TJ had ignored Britney, or had they even seen her? He didn’t draw their attention to Britney either.

He had suddenly grown relaxed in Chrissy and TJ’s company, but he had also quickly felt safe in their presence too. They were his safeguard, buffer zone, between him and Britney, and that felt so good. He knew he shouldn’t see them just as his protectors: it was enjoyable just being in their presence, even if Chrissy and TJ’s topics of conversation barely lifted above what TV programs they watched and what music they listened to. Neither of them read anything, but they would have lively and often funny conversations, and he could easily just sit there and enjoy their words bouncing around him.

That afternoon he’d had a lesson with Mrs Williams, and he’d told her about his problems with the Queen Mary essay. They had discussed it and discussed the pressures that Queen Mary had been under, especially as a woman. She had never been raised to expect to rule. That was his way into his essay about her: she had never expected to rule, especially after the birth of her half-brother, and, therefore, she had come under a lot of political pressures in the form of the war between Catholicism and Protestantism. All he had to do now was write it.

As he left the Meeting Room, making sure he was ahead of Janet, he found Chrissy and TJ waiting for him out in the corridor.

“We’re off to watch some TV in TJ’s room,” Chrissy said.

“It’s only afternoon TV but there’s usually something to take the piss out of,” TJ added.

“Come Dine With Me is so fucking stupid, you have to love it,” Chrissy said.

“I’ve got an essay I need to write, and I’ve finally figured out how to write it. I’ve got to get it done,” Liam said, the apology tumbling out of his mouth. He didn’t want them thinking he was rejecting them.

“God, you’re always studying,” Chrissy said.

“Leave him alone. Someone has to have brains around here,” TJ replied.

“Liam knows that I’m just being a jealous bitch,” Chrissy told TJ, though the light and jokey tone of her voice told Liam she didn’t mean any of it.

“But come and join us for Neighbours,” TJ said. “She’s got the hots for some blonde Aussie hunk on it and its real tragic.”

“I’ll try,” Liam told them.

Holding onto his note book with all the notes in it he’d made for his essay, Liam took himself off towards the Common Room.

When he entered the room, he saw Jared sat the far end of the long table there. As usual, Jared was wearing his black jumper and dark blue jeans. He was hunched over a pad of paper, writing long lines with a ballpoint pen, his hair falling across his face in two dark curtains.

Quietly he walked to the far end of the table where Jared sat, though walking along the opposite side of the table to Jared. When he reached where Jared was sat, he pulled chair out from the opposite side of the table.

Jared looked up at him at the sound of the chair scrapping over the floor.

“I’m working on some coding here,” Jared said, his voice flat in tone.

“I’ve got an essay to write,” Liam replied.

“I write my code in silence,” Jared said, his voice still in that flat tone, not unwelcoming, but not welcoming either.

“I want to write my essay in silence too, but we can write in silence together, can’t we?” he said.

“I don’t see why not,” Jared said, a slight lift to his voice.

“Great,” Liam said as he sat down at the table.

“Okay,” Jared replied, giving him a little smile, before returning to his own writing.