Free Skin Deep by Laura Jarratt Page A

to do that. ‘Charlie, that’s my little brother, is the most accident-prone thing on the planet. He’s always falling out of a tree or something. If Mum’s not home, I have to patch him up. Dad’s useless with blood.’ I taped the last piece of gauze on. ‘All done.’
    ‘Brilliant. Thanks.’ He pulled a T-shirt out of his rucksack and eased it on.
    I rolled my eyes. ‘Better late than never. You could still get attacked by another crazy dog before you get home.’
    He shivered, playing along. ‘Yeah, and yours is out there waiting to pounce. I’d better go. Mum’ll be freaking about where I am.’
    I opened the back door and scooped Raggs up as he burst in. ‘Thanks for not being mad at me.’
    He shook his head. ‘It was an accident. Forget it. Bye, Shortie.’ He patted Raggs on the head, picked up his bike and wheeled it off, waving as he disappeared round the side of the house.
    I closed the door and sat down in a daze with Raggs on my knee. ‘OK, he is so not what I expected.’ Raggs licked my chin. ‘He’s . . . he’s just nice. Even after what you did, he still made a fuss of you. And he didn’t stare, you know. He looked at me like there wasn’t anything different about me.’ Only Mum and Dad and Charlie and Beth managed that and it had taken them a while. And yes, he’d talked to me like I would to Charlie, and no more than that, but he’d actually talked . Properly.
    Stupid, the curl of warmth bubbling inside me. I tried to stop it, but it wouldn’t quite be frozen out.

 
12 – Ryan
    Bill and I unloaded a delivery of engine oil outside the shed. He puffed as he bent to pull bottles from the box.
    ‘I’ll do that,’ I offered. ‘You price them up and I’ll carry them over to the shop.’
    ‘Thanks, lad.’ He checked his watch. ‘Not long to clocking off now.’ He stretched to relieve his cramped back and then groaned. ‘Oh lord, here’s trouble.’
    A girl in school uniform strolled towards us, her white shirt undone at the neck and her tie loosened. Her skirt ended halfway down her thighs. Nice legs! Bit tacky though. She was orange with fake tan and the big gold hoops in her ears nearly brushed her shoulders.
    ‘Who’s she?’ I hissed.
    ‘Sadie, Pete’s daughter. Sixteen going on thirty,’ Bill said out of the side of his mouth.
    She came over, swaying her hips more now she’d spotted us.
    ‘Dad around?’ She spoke to Bill, but her eyes were on me.
    ‘In the shop,’ he grunted.
    ‘Who’s this?’
    ‘New lad.’
    ‘Mmm, I can see that. Doesn’t he have a name?’
    ‘Ryan,’ I replied.
    She looked me over like I was a choc ice she wanted to lick. ‘I expect I’ll see you around, Ryan. I come down here a lot.’ She sauntered off towards the shop, casting a look back to make sure I was watching.
    ‘Aye, comes here a lot when she wants something,’ Bill growled. ‘Put a bloody T-shirt on, will you? That one’ll eat you for breakfast. And her dad don’t like no one messing around with his little girl so watch yerself.’
    What was it with people nagging me about my shirt? I looked down at myself as I pulled the T-shirt on. Nothing wrong there. I looked all right. Not bad, not bad at all.
    When I got home that evening, I headed for my usual after-work shower while Mum made dinner in the kitchen. I could see a bit of me in the steamy mirror as I dried off and that looked OK, but it was only the top part of my chest. I headed to the kitchen for a second opinion.
    ‘Mum, am I too skinny or too fat or all right?’
    ‘Beautiful,’ she said, chopping peppers and not even looking.
    ‘Will you look, please?’ I do actually look different to when I was ten, you know .
    She turned. ‘Perfect. Who is she?’
    ‘Nobody. Just asking generally.’
    She raised an eyebrow. ‘Generally perfect then. Gorgeous. Pass me an onion.’
    ‘Mum!’
    She rinsed her hands under the tap. ‘Come here.’ They were cold and wet when she grabbed my face and turned it from