hours making out. It was strange but, despite my not really understanding how Flynn could be so full of
hate towards his dad, I felt closer to him than ever. We even talked, again, about taking things further between us. I told Flynn how I felt – that I was sure I would be ready soon, that I
just needed a little more time.
In the end, hunger drove us out of the room. James had brought up some bread the night before, but Flynn had eaten most of that before he’d gone to sleep and I was starving. We tidied the
little bedroom then crept downstairs for juice and cereal.
‘James has been brilliant, hasn’t he?’ I said as we sat in the kitchen. ‘He’s a really good friend.’
Flynn looked up. ‘Don’t start fancying him, will you?’ He smiled.
I rolled my eyes. ‘I’m just saying . . .’ I paused. ‘I wish you liked Grace more,’ I said tentatively.
Flynn frowned. He rolled his glass against his swollen lip. ‘I do like Grace,’ he said. ‘She’s nice . . . kind. And James loves her. He told me.’
I grinned, thinking how pleased Grace would be to hear that. ‘He said that?’
‘Course. Last year, he went on and on about her for weeks. In the end I practically had to force him to promise me he’d talk to her at that party where you puked up.’
‘It’s funny but I thought back then he fancied Emmi,’ I said, remembering the early
Romeo and Juliet
rehearsals.
‘He did,’ Flynn said, spooning up some cereal.
I shook my head. ‘But how . . .?’
‘Come on, Riv. It’s possible to fancy more than one person at once, you know.’
I looked at him. ‘Not for me,’ I said.
We finished our cereal, lost in our own thoughts. Flynn washed up the bowls while I put the juice and milk back in the fridge. The doorbell rang. A single, persistent chime. We looked at each
other. I rushed to the kitchen window.
A police car was parked outside. My stomach turned over.
‘Feds?’ Flynn said in a flat voice.
I gulped. ‘Yes.’
The doorbell rang on. ‘What do we do?’ I said.
I don’t know what I expected Flynn to say – maybe that he was going to make a run for it out the back. But to my surprise he just stood up, calm as anything. ‘I’ll let
them in,’ he said. ‘I’ll make it clear you don’t know anything . . . that there’s no point them speaking to you.’
The doorbell was still ringing, its sound piercing through my skull.
‘You knew they would come,’ I said, realising how naïve I’d been not thinking this would happen. Someone in the church was bound to have called the police when the fight
started. There were only a few places Flynn would hide out after all. It wouldn’t take that long for the police to check all of them.
Flynn walked out into the hall. I followed him, my legs trembling.
Flynn opened the front door. I just caught a flash of blue uniforms before Flynn stepped outside, pulling the door shut behind him.
I raced over and opened it. Two young, male police officers glanced at me, then back at Flynn.
‘We’re looking for a Patrick Flynn?’ one of them said. He looked at the picture in his hand, then up at Flynn again. ‘That you?’
‘Yes, sir,’ Flynn said in a meek voice.
And then the police officer arrested him.
15
I got home just before midday. After the police had seen me at James’s house, they’d taken my name and phone number and warned me that I’d be needed later to
make a statement. Then they’d marched Flynn off to the police station. They were very polite but they were still acting like he was a criminal.
My head spun with the implications of this.
All I wanted to do was get up to my bedroom and lie on my bed for a bit. With any luck my younger brother Stone wouldn’t be home for hours. And Mum shouldn’t be back from work until
at least six. It was too much to hope that she wouldn’t give me a grilling over where I’d been last night and today, but at least I’d have a few hours to try and wind down.
No such luck. As
hate towards his dad, I felt closer to him than ever. We even talked, again, about taking things further between us. I told Flynn how I felt – that I was sure I would be ready soon, that I
just needed a little more time.
In the end, hunger drove us out of the room. James had brought up some bread the night before, but Flynn had eaten most of that before he’d gone to sleep and I was starving. We tidied the
little bedroom then crept downstairs for juice and cereal.
‘James has been brilliant, hasn’t he?’ I said as we sat in the kitchen. ‘He’s a really good friend.’
Flynn looked up. ‘Don’t start fancying him, will you?’ He smiled.
I rolled my eyes. ‘I’m just saying . . .’ I paused. ‘I wish you liked Grace more,’ I said tentatively.
Flynn frowned. He rolled his glass against his swollen lip. ‘I do like Grace,’ he said. ‘She’s nice . . . kind. And James loves her. He told me.’
I grinned, thinking how pleased Grace would be to hear that. ‘He said that?’
‘Course. Last year, he went on and on about her for weeks. In the end I practically had to force him to promise me he’d talk to her at that party where you puked up.’
‘It’s funny but I thought back then he fancied Emmi,’ I said, remembering the early
Romeo and Juliet
rehearsals.
‘He did,’ Flynn said, spooning up some cereal.
I shook my head. ‘But how . . .?’
‘Come on, Riv. It’s possible to fancy more than one person at once, you know.’
I looked at him. ‘Not for me,’ I said.
We finished our cereal, lost in our own thoughts. Flynn washed up the bowls while I put the juice and milk back in the fridge. The doorbell rang. A single, persistent chime. We looked at each
other. I rushed to the kitchen window.
A police car was parked outside. My stomach turned over.
‘Feds?’ Flynn said in a flat voice.
I gulped. ‘Yes.’
The doorbell rang on. ‘What do we do?’ I said.
I don’t know what I expected Flynn to say – maybe that he was going to make a run for it out the back. But to my surprise he just stood up, calm as anything. ‘I’ll let
them in,’ he said. ‘I’ll make it clear you don’t know anything . . . that there’s no point them speaking to you.’
The doorbell was still ringing, its sound piercing through my skull.
‘You knew they would come,’ I said, realising how naïve I’d been not thinking this would happen. Someone in the church was bound to have called the police when the fight
started. There were only a few places Flynn would hide out after all. It wouldn’t take that long for the police to check all of them.
Flynn walked out into the hall. I followed him, my legs trembling.
Flynn opened the front door. I just caught a flash of blue uniforms before Flynn stepped outside, pulling the door shut behind him.
I raced over and opened it. Two young, male police officers glanced at me, then back at Flynn.
‘We’re looking for a Patrick Flynn?’ one of them said. He looked at the picture in his hand, then up at Flynn again. ‘That you?’
‘Yes, sir,’ Flynn said in a meek voice.
And then the police officer arrested him.
15
I got home just before midday. After the police had seen me at James’s house, they’d taken my name and phone number and warned me that I’d be needed later to
make a statement. Then they’d marched Flynn off to the police station. They were very polite but they were still acting like he was a criminal.
My head spun with the implications of this.
All I wanted to do was get up to my bedroom and lie on my bed for a bit. With any luck my younger brother Stone wouldn’t be home for hours. And Mum shouldn’t be back from work until
at least six. It was too much to hope that she wouldn’t give me a grilling over where I’d been last night and today, but at least I’d have a few hours to try and wind down.
No such luck. As
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