Free Every Vow You Break by Julia Crouch Page A

Bud and passing a smoke around. One of them pushed a basketball from hand to hand, rolling it along the dirt.
    ‘Mmmmmmm … Reefer …’ Olly said, sniffing the air like a tracker dog.
    ‘Calm down, drug fiend,’ Bella said. ‘Do you think they’re OK? They look a bit sketchy to me.’ The boys were dressed almost identically in dirty baggy T-shirts, massive shorts and baseball caps. Despite the beating, sweltering sun, all three had preternaturally pale, malnourished skin. And they were eyeing Bella, Olly and Jack like a pack of territorial mongrels.
    ‘Are you worried we’ve taken over their “turf”?’ Olly teased. ‘Do you think it’s going to be Sharks and Jets or Crips and Bloods?’
    ‘They might have guns,’ Bella said, trying not to move her mouth too much in case her lips could be read.
    ‘I doubt it. Look at them. They’re just a bunch of yokels,’ he said. ‘Observe and learn.’ He gave Jack one last big push and wandered over the playground, hands in pockets, towards the boys.
    ‘Olly!’ Bella said. But it was useless trying to stop him. Olly just did things like that. He had no sense, and no reserve. Usually, though, he had charm enough to wangle himself out of the sticky spots this approach got him into. Their father had a similar way with him, but it tended to be so unctuous it embarrassed his offspring. They also got very peeved that the same delightfulness was rarely on display once the family doors were shut and there was no outside audience for it. With Olly, Bella thought, it was more ingrained, more in his bones than merely manufactured for public show.
    Being the opposite of her brother in this way, Bella at once admired and was exasperated by his get-up-and-go. Sometimes it also made her feel like a complete mouse.
    ‘What a moron,’ she said to Jack, who giggled. But she had to admit she was impressed as Olly shook each of the boys’ hands, introducing himself and pointing out his sister and brother over by the swings. Then he selected a gravestone to sit on and accepted a beer and a toke on the joint.
    ‘For Christ’s sake,’ Bella said.
    ‘Christ sake,’ Jack echoed, shaking his head in imitation of his big sister.
    ‘Well, that’s the last bit of help I’m going to be getting from Olly this afternoon,’ she said. ‘Do you want a lolly?’
    ‘Lolly!’ Jack replied, nodding vigorously.
    Bella slipped off her swing and lifted Jack from his.
    ‘Hey sis, you off?’ Olly yelled across the playground.
    ‘What does it look like?’ she called back. She heard the other boys snigger. ‘Don’t forget Dad wants you home by four,’ she added, hoping to bring him down a peg or two.
    ‘Whatever,’ Olly said. The sniggering grew into laughter and they all high-fived him.
    How on earth does he do it? Bella thought, bending to retrieve Jack’s buggy.
    They crossed the road and went past the theatre building. The doors were closed, but Bella could hear show music from within. Someone – it had to be James – shouted ‘AND one and two and three AND one.’ Then he clapped his hands and yelled, ‘No, no, NO!’
    A large version of the awful poster for the musical had been pasted on a board outside. Bella looked at her watch. She had kept it on British time, so she had to do a couple of calculations before she worked out they had exactly two hours before the show began.
    ‘Sounds like a bag of shite,’ she said to Jack.
    ‘Bag of shite,’ he giggled.
    ‘Wash your mouth out young man. Do you want to get into the buggy?’
    ‘No,’ Jack said. ‘I want my lolly.’
    So, very slowly, stopping to inspect every ant and cricket that crossed their path, they headed off in search of a lolly. They reached Main Street, which was, as ever, deserted. To their left stood a small fire station. Bella wondered if its proximity to the theatre had anything to do with the choice of subject matter for the musical. It was staffed, a sign proclaimed, by volunteers drawn from the Trout