Longford by Kieran Wyatt
Liam stopped moving after another kick. Jack looked up from his trainers. They were no longer white. They had all pestered Mum for a dog, but he had pestered most. Liam was his responsibility.
*****With his foot, he nudged Liam to the edge of the canal. Then into the water.
*****He played the part of a boy looking for his dog. He carried on down the canal path. There were midges everywhere. The quickest way home was to walk back up the steps and onto the bridge, but he cut through the park instead.
*****Mum was in the airing cupboard, finding spots to hang her knickers. Liam’s gone. I lost him. He started to cry. I’m a fuckin idiot. Jack, you’re alright, stop it. Mum gathered the girls. They had been playing on their bedroom floors. They went out.
****Later, Mum made them bacon butties. They were allowed to eat them in front of the tele. The grease slipped onto his chin.
He dreamt of Tulketh Mill. He finished a shift with red raw fingers and came home to a stew. Queen Victoria was in the airing cupboard. Her blooming, black knickers. Fuming, not in the least amused.
When he got home from school, there was an old man sitting on his bed, on the Preston North End crest. He thought about calling for Mum, but she was on lates. The man apologised for mussing the bed. I thought you’d like someone to talk to, about the dog?
*****How do you know about that?
*****You are not your actions, the man said. We must learn to understand that.
On the family computer in the corner by the landline, Jack searched the name Frank Pakenham. That night, they had potato waffles and sausages for tea. Mum, do you know Myra Hindley?
*****Not personally.
*****He asked what she knew about her anyway, but she asked him about school instead. She didn’t want to know why he was suddenly interested. She had enough on her plate.
On Saturday, they went to Bruccianis in town. Frank found a table. Jack looked at the wall. Marlon Brando stared back at him.
*****Hollywood, Frank said, in their frames, completed contained. Do you enjoy watching films?
*****Jack couldn’t help taking it all in. The boils, the bloodless lips. His head reminded him of the cress eggs they’d made in primary school.
*****On their way to the Harris, they went by Preston Crown Court. Jack knew that James Bulger’s killers had been sentenced there. Mum was from Bottle. That was her Preston.
*****It was an accident, with Liam.
*****Frank looked at him as they walked. They both knew it was a lie.
*
Jack’s bus was late. Outside the station, the rain had turned into TV static. Everyone was running, if they hadn’t already found shelter. He was travelling to Southport to see Sophie. She had come to Preston the other week, and he’d tried to show her the sites. Now it was her turn. He was thinking about Sophie when he saw Frank. Frank joined the Megabus queue. No one checked his ticket. Jack went back into the bus station through an exit. He saw a lady with a pram. She was on her knees, looking at the empty space.
Kieran Wyatt holds a degree in Creative Writing from Edge Hill University. His work has been published in The London Magazine. He lives on the Fylde Coast, Lancashire.
kieranstorieswriter.wordpress.com
Photo courtesy of Nicholas Royle - @nicholasroyle.bsky.social
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