Our Father Who Are Out There...Somewhere by AJ Taft Page B

away like a pair of teenagers who haven’t seen each other for months. After a second bottle of wine, Wendy says they’d better spend the night.
    Jo’s bedroom gives the impression that Jo the teenager has just gone to get a glass of water and will be back soon. As Jo opens the wardrobe door to find them both a pair of pyjamas, Lily spots a small picture of Simon Le Bon pinned to the inside. On the bedroom wall is a large poster that proclaims, ‘Protect me from what I want’. Lily wants to ask if Jo wants Simon Le Bon, and if that’s what she needs protecting from.
    They lean out of the bedroom window and smoke a spliff in silence. It’s a clear night and Lily watches the stars. When they pull their heads back into the room, Lily notices a photograph framed on the windowsill. A boy with a long, dark fringe stares sullenly at her. “Who’s that?”
    Jo sighs. “That’s William. He, well, we used to go out.”
    “He’s good looking.”
    “Yeah, too good looking. He got off with my best friend at a party. I went to get a drink and when I came back they were sat together on the stairs, snogging, with his hand up her jumper.”
    “Oh.”
    “Yeah. She told me afterwards that he’d been trying to get off with her for weeks.” Jo pulls on a pair of pink candy striped pyjamas and climbs onto her bed. An old Snoopy, with only one ear, rests lopsidedly against her pillow, and CND badges adorn her curtains. “That’s men for you.” She sniffs. “He did me a favour really.” She glances at the empty photo frame next to her bed, which used to contain a photograph of her father, swinging her up in the air when she was a kid. She threw the photo years ago, but for some reason she didn’t fully understand, she’d kept the empty frame. She forces her attention back to William’s transgressions. “He made me realise men just can’t be trusted. If he wasn’t for him I’d probably still be wearing lipstick and hoping my ass didn’t look too big.”
    Lily climbs into the put up bed. The duvet has a faded picture of a black and white Pierrot clown on it, and smells of fabric conditioner. Lily’s wearing an old nightshirt of Jo’s, that’s about three sizes too big and has been mended with a patch on the front.
    Jo turns off the light and lies on her back, her head resting on her arms. The glow stars she stuck to the ceiling when she was twelve years old, radiate back at her. She recites all the constellations to herself. “Did you ever love anyone, Lil?”
    Lily doesn’t answer. She’s fast asleep, her swollen belly warming up the bed sheets like a hot water bottle.
     
    They wake to the smell of frying bacon. “I don’t know, you students.” Wendy says as they enter the kitchen. “Spend half your lives asleep, while us hard working, taxpaying folk pay you for the privilege. I hope you were having deep and profound dreams at least. Come on, Lily; get your feet under the table. Tea or coffee?”
    Lily, if given the choice, would stay at Jo’s mum’s house forever. She’s never experienced freshly laundered sheets or real coffee, but Jo is anxious to get moving. She starts piling bags into the boot of the Mini. “I’m just borrowing a few bits. I’ll bring it all back.”
    They have to push start the Mini down the road; Lily and Wendy at the rear, Jo running alongside, one hand on the steering wheel. It finally kicks into life and Jo dives headlong into the front seat. The car makes a throaty sound, coughs and splutters for the first few hundred yards but then finds itself. Jo pulls into the kerb, revving the engine, plumes of smoke billowing from the exhaust.
    “Bye, thanks for having us.” Lily says, standing stiffly as Jo’s mum tries to give her a hug.
    “Make sure you eat properly,” Wendy shouts after her, as Lily pulls away and runs down the street towards the Mini.
    “We’ve got wheels,” Jo shouts, as Lily jumps into the passenger seat. Lily laughs. The car has a stereo system that looks