A couple of women bustled past, one of them wearing long skirts and an honest-to-God cloak, like she’d stepped out ofLord of the Rings.Zig turned to watch her, and noticed nobody else did, although one or two looked athimfunny.Like he was the weirdo, for staring.
Huh.She was probably a lot warmer than he was in his jeans and leather jacket.Maybe he ought to get himself one of them cloak things.If anywhere had shops that sold ’em, it’d be here.Zig shoved his hands into his pockets and wandered on, smiling at a Yorkshire terrier that scurried over to sniff at his ankles.“All right, mate?”
“Merlin!”The dog’s owner, a middle-aged woman in wellies, pulled him in firmly by his lead.“Sorry about him.”
“Hey, no worries.”He flashed her a grin, and she blushed and hurried on.
Glastonbury, Zig realised a moment later, was full of dogs.Every second pedestrian seemed to have a dog on a lead, and half the shops had their own doggy sales assistants keeping the humans company from a basket by the till.Dogs of all shapes and sizes trotted briskly along the streets, breath steaming in the chill air.Zig was amazed the streets weren’t knee-deep in dog shit, but it seemed people were a bit more diligent about picking up after their pets than in his neck of the woods.
Hisoldneck of the woods.Zig’s throat was tight.Would he ever go back to south London?Could he?
He’d spent his whole life there— Well, give or take a few years of involuntary banishment.And now he’d cut himself off from the place for God knew how long.Would it have been better to stay and face what was coming, instead of running away?When he’d packed a bag and hopped on that train, he hadn’t thought about what it would mean long-term.
Then again, staying might have had long-term consequences too.Zig didn’t know how much his dad knew, or guessed, about who’d landed him inside, but he’d told Ani that Zig owed him.Maybe it was simply aYou ungrateful childsort of thing, but would Dad be bothering to track him down if that was the case?Zig shivered.It wasn’t like Dad had ever been violent, exactly.He’d never been the sort to lash out for no reason.But when therewasreason...well, that was a different matter.
As for Trent, ifheknew what Zig had done, God help him.
Fuck it.Sod the long term; Zig would be happy if he survived the short term with both kneecaps intact.He looked around and saw he’d strayed into a residential area.Great.He hadn’t been paying attention to where he was going, and now he’d run out of town without realising it.
There was a brown tourist sign pointing the way to the tor, though, so Zig followed it out of a mix of one part mild curiosity to nine parts wanting to have the certainty of a destination in mind.The path led up steeply through a sort of country version of an alley, with trees and bushes on either side that at least cut off the wind.Round a corner, and he could finally see where he was going: the tor and its stone tower, not on the top like he’d thought but set off to one side, were visible beyond a big wooden gate.Zig pushed through it.
There was a homeless person settled in on the other side of the gate.They were bundled up against the cold in a sleeping bag and most likely several layers of clothing underneath, cos the face that poked out the top of all that bulk was thin, with delicate features topped by a riot of loose curls.They had white skin, like most people round here seemed to.Zig had heard most places were pretty un-diverse compared to London but it still felt weird and somehow old-fashioned, like a TV show from the last century.
“Spare any change?”the homeless person intoned, like the words had lost all meaning cos they’d said them so often.
Zig chucked them a few quid he probably couldn’t spare, as a vicious gust of wind blew icicles down his neck.He hunched his shoulders, wishing again that he’d worn something warmer.The countryside had really opened up, this side of the gate, and there were no cosy cafés to duck into.“Shit, mate, you gotta find a better place to sleep.You’ll freeze your bollocks off up here.Or tits, whatever,” he added, cos it wasn’t obvious whether or not they were of the bollock-owning persuasion.
They shrugged.“Don’t sleep here in winter.I go down the town.”
“Hostel?”
“Nah.There’s places round the backs of shops.It’s sheltered, but you’re not in everyone’s face, so the feds don’t care.You from London?”
Zig froze.“What’s it to you?”
They drew back, eyes wary.“Nothing.Just, you don’t dress like you’re from round here.And you talk like you’re auditioning forEastEnders.”
Sod it.Way to fucking go, Zig.Frighten the homeless person half your size.“Sorry.Didn’t mean to come over all heavy.I’m here for a fresh start, you know?Don’t wanna think about where I came from.”
The tension went out of their bundled-up frame, and they nodded.“I get that.I’m Kai.Same.”
Zig hesitated, but Jesus, it wasn’t like he was going around giving a false name to anyone else who asked, was it?“Zig.So, you been here long, then?”
“Since the summer.Came for the festival, then I thought I’d see what the town was like.Never left.”They paused, then spoke in a rush.“You got somewhere to sleep?Cos there’s a shelter—”
“I’m good, cheers.Staying with a mate.For now.When he gets fed up with me kipping on his sofa I guess I’ll have to get me own place.Need a job for that, though.”Zig’s mouth rattled on while his brain listened in faint shock.Was that really what he was planning?To make a life here, in this tiny, tiny town?There weren’t even any decent shops, just a load of hippie stuff and blokes selling wands on the street.Christ knew what the nightlife was like, if there was any.
WouldSi get fed up with him?Zig snorted.Course he fucking will.
Shit.Yesterday, Zig had been totally focused on how Si might react when a years-ago ex turned up like a runny turd on his doorstep.He hadn’t stopped to consider how long any undeserved welcome might actually last.
No wonder Si hadn’t responded to his come-ons last night.Hah, maybe he was at the flat now, changing the locks...Except he didn’t need to do that, did he?He hadn’t given Zig a key.
“You all right?”Kai’s voice broke into his reverie of despair.“I got a sandwich someone gave me if you’re hungry.”
Zig shook himself.“Nah, I’m good.Cheers, though.Things on me mind, that’s all.Right.This tor’s not gonna climb itself, eh?You keep warm.”He flashed a smile and headed on up the path.
You wanker.Kai was probably gonna be down in town later warning all their mates about this mentally vulnerable bloke they’d met on the tor.Comes off as a bit of an arse but he’s probably harmless.Still, best to steer clear.
