most people on the island, so I was waiting for us to turn a corner and skid and do a somersault. But I preferred crashing with Donnie to being pulverised/set alight by Nic. Trees and hedges were flashing by, I held my breath and shut my eyes and maybe said a few prayers. Suddenly we hit a bump and the car lurched onto soft ground, coming to a stop on L’Ancresse golf course. All I heard then was our breathing.
Seconds passed. I reached out to try to touch Donnie’s shoulder.
‘Don’t!’
I’d never seen Donnie angry but I’m glad to report it didn’t last long. He breathed in and out a few more times, sat back and pressed his hands into his face, then closed them round his nose. A couple of rockets flew up into the sky and lit up the golf course. I could see a low bunker in the distance.
Donnie turned to look at me.
‘You’re all right? Good. Good.’ He sighed and swallowed. ‘What just happened back there. What just happened, didn’t happen, do you understand?’
I didn’t.
He wiped the sweat from his chins. ‘You won’t tell anyone.’
‘O-K,’ I said slowly.
‘You see why. Those girls could have me for assault. It’d be their word against mine and I wouldn’t stand a chance.’
‘Don’t be daft.’ I shifted in my seat and made the leather fart.
Donnie shook his head. ‘Didn’t you hear them? What if anyone else heard?’ His chest rose and fell. ‘They could pin whatever they liked on me and don’t pretend your local police force wouldn’t take their side. Teenage girls, I’m easy pickings for that lot, aren’t I?’
I stared down at my muddy hands and remembered the last time I’d seen him.
‘You know what Nicolette’s like – she’ll say anything to get a reaction.’
I heard Donnie sigh. ‘It’s about more than that. You and I both know it.’
Another firework went off and I looked up into the sky, but Donnie was watching me.
‘I’ve never made anyone do anything they don’t want to. I’m not some dirty old man. I shouldn’t have to explain myself. There’s nothing to explain.’
I glanced back at him and his eyes were glittery from the fireworks.
‘You don’t think what she thinks, do you? I’m not some pervert.
’ I remembered Mr McCracken and all the things I’d called him, and then I pictured Donnie, with his shirt unbuttoned, sprawled on his sofa.
I shook my head. ‘You’re not a pervert. You’ve only ever tried to be my friend. Whatever anyone says, I’ll back you up.’
He stared off into the distance. I watched him chew at the nail of his index finger and wondered what else to say. I wanted to tell him that I’d missed him.
He sighed again, this time like he was emptying his whole chest.
‘I’ve tried to keep a low profile, since the summer. They never are.’ He glanced across at me. ‘Do you know what that’s like?’
I’m sorry for what happened between us and if I overstepped the mark. I hoped things would blow over. I should know better, of course. It is what it is and it always turns out the same. I come somewhere new and think things will be different, people will be different.
I wanted to say I did but I didn’t, since I’d never been anywhere foreign except France on our boat (which doesn’t count) and Tenerife (which is full of English people). Mum took me there after Dad’s life insurance money came through and we stayed in a fancy hotel with two enormous swimming pools. It was my-first-proper-foreign holiday and it should’ve been the-best-thing-ever, only Mum kept worrying about how much everything cost. I never understood why she worried, since nobody doubted her OFFICIAL VERSION of how Dad died, and they never once asked for the money back.
Mum worried too much – just like Donnie. He was convinced he’d get arrested and thrown into prison and nothing I could say would make a difference. That’s the real reason he’s packed up and left, by the way. I tried to convince him to stay. I honestly did. I reminded him that Guernsey wasn’t like other places on account of its History, but he wasn’t listening. If only he’d read Dad’s books he’d have realised that in Guernsey guilty people never go to prison – that’s why it’s full of posho English people and their swish-Swiss bankers.
In Guernsey, guilty people always get a second chance.