Page 37 of The Cut

‘In our darkest hour, before my final rhyme, she will come back home to Wonderland and turn back the hands of time.’

Sparks of electricity crackle from the metal posts as Annie Maddock and Ben Knot circle the perimeter of the Mad Hatter’s Dodgem Ride. Mark Cherry hops in beside his best friend, already eagerly at the wheel of an orange-painted car.

‘The Cheshire Cat, I see what you did there.’ Mark nudges Cat, who grins at him and floors the pedal, but nothing happens.

He glances over his shoulder to see Chris Davis racing towards them in a black-and-white-striped Tweedle Dum dodgem.

He slams into the back of their car, jolting them both forward; but their pole connects with the grid above, sparking the electrical connection, and they shoot off.

Attempting to swerve away from the edge, Cat crashes into Lynette Davis, driving the Queen of Hearts, and Dave Patel, trying to shunt his Dormouse out of the traffic jam.

Rounding the bend through a mouth-shaped tunnel, Ben and Annie in their Tweedle Dee dodgem take the corner at speed.

Chris pulls up alongside, forcing them into a row of pink plastic flamingos, and they both grind to a halt with a crunch.

Ben laughs, frantically reversing into a back spin, punching into the side of Patel.

Patel winks at Annie, who is flushed with the thrill of the ride, as Ben manages to free their car.

As they speed away towards the gates of Wonderland Castle, Annie whispers something in Ben’s 200 ear then turns her head, tossing her chestnut hair over her shoulder, laughing at Patel.

He floors it, slamming the pedal down, but his car is dead.

He makes a daredevil leap from his dodgem Dormouse, trampling over the face of Tweedle Dum and landing on the Queen of Hearts.

Lynette shifts over, letting Patel take the wheel, and they career towards the castle.

It’s Knot vs. Patel: Tweedle Dee in one direction, the Queen of Hearts in the other.

As they reach opposing sides, Patel spins the wheel to the left at the same moment that Knot turns his to the right.

It’s a stand-off. Patel stares at Annie and slams his foot to the floor.

The sparks from the electrified connection pole explode on to the graphite platform.

But Knot’s reflexes are fast and the two cars lurch into a head-on collision.

At that very same moment, the Cheshire Cat crawls languidly into the crosshairs.

The little orange car is slammed from both sides.

The wheels buck violently off the metal platform and slam back down with a crash.

Cat and Mark are jolted sideways as the car tips, throwing them both to the ground.

The siren sounds and the electricity is cut. All the cars suddenly power down to a surge of boos and groans.

‘EVERYONE OFF!’ The operator, sporting a rather fetching top hat and red wig, strides across, more bothered about his damaged car than the kids on the ground.

Lynette smirks at Mark. ‘Off with his head?’

Ben, Chris and Dave explode into a cackle of whoops and jeers as Mark lies there, dizzy from the fall.

Catherine stands up. ‘You OK? You bumped your head, you’re bleeding.’

Mark snaps. ‘You’re a dick, Ben Knot!’ His frantic eyes flick from Dave to Ben, unsure exactly who is to blame. ‘I hope your dad DIES.’ 201

It’s as if all the sound is sucked out of the air in a vacuum. Everyone stares at Mark, open-mouthed, speechless. Mark stands up from the platform, trembling. A trickle of blood runs down the side of his face as Ben slowly rises from his seat. He’s beyond livid.

‘What? What did you say?’

Mark, panting in rage, hesitates for a second.

A siren for the next ride of dodgems suddenly pierces the silence and a crowd of kids race across the floor towards the cars.

Mark bolts, weaving through bodies, pushing them out of the way, but Ben is off like a rocket, leaping over the bonnets of the cars, tearing after him.

‘BEN! Leave it!’ Annie calls to Ben as the gang gives chase.

Mark pegs it across the fairground towards the Fun House, barging to the front of the queue and pushing through the candy-striped double doors.

His feet slip and slide over the polished boards of the shaking platform.

The punchy beat of a rock song blasts through loudspeakers as Mark clatters down steps and dives headfirst into a ball crawl, pulling himself across to the other side.

Turning back to make sure he hasn’t been followed, he mounts a flight of jerking scissor stairs and darts through a pair of saloon doors into a maze of mirrors.

He stops to catch his breath, panting heavily.

The clatter of the doors behind him sends a shock wave through his body.

In a panic, he turns to run down a passageway towards the exit, but his whole body ricochets off a pane of black glass as he slams into a wall and collapses on to the floor.

Dazed and disorientated, he crouches down in the corner and tries to stay quiet. Shit, that really hurt.

‘I know you’re in here.’ A voice melding with the lyrics to the guitar riff thrashing out through the speakers. ‘You can run but you can never hide, Cherry.’ 202

Mark’s hands feel along the wooden floor until his fingers find the base of the mirrored wall. There is a gap underneath, just enough room to wiggle through.

He’s no stranger to small spaces; hiding in cupboards and creeping under the school huts is second nature to him.

He lies face down on the ground and squeezes through the gap into another corridor of mirrors, but this time Mark keeps his hands out in front of him and moves slowly.

As he turns a corner, a figure appears ahead of him with his back turned.

It’s him. The thumping music sounds more distant. Shadows creeping up beside him.

From the shadow that’s creeping up beside you .

Mark ducks down out of sight and watches the reflection of Ben as he moves off in the wrong direction.

Slinking down and squeezing under another gap, Mark finds himself around the back of the ride now, in an area that is clearly out of bounds.

He traces the wall with his hand, frantically searching for an escape.

A red light appears in the distance, spilling through a crack in a half-open door.

Mark makes a beeline for it, but it’s yet another hoax: a fake exit into another room.

A macabre light fills the space, like a darkroom.

As Mark’s eyes adjust to the sickly red gloom, he can see a figure standing in the doorway, barring his escape.

Shit. He shrinks back into the darkness.

‘Turn around, Mark, I’m two steps behind.’

‘Gotcha.’ Two hands grab his shoulders.

‘Oh shit … please.’ Mark flinches in terror and freezes. ‘I’m sorry.’

‘Hey, chill out, it’s only me.’

‘Dave?’

‘Come on.’ Dave places a friendly hand on his shoulder. ‘Relax. I’ll show you the way out.’ 203

‘Oh, thank goodness.’ Mark exhales as Dave leads him into the room but then grabs his arm, pulling him to a stop.

An overhead light flicks on, revealing the room in a stark glare.

There are mirrors on all four sides and a vast chess board on the floor.

Across the other side, Ben Knot stands leaning against the door frame, arms folded.

‘Checkmate.’ He stands smirking, and cracks his knuckles, ready for a fight.

Two kings on either side and Mark just a pawn in the middle. He turns to Dave. ‘Why?’

‘King’s rook.’ Dave shoves him forward and Mark stumbles on to the board.

But then something miraculous happens. As Mark takes a step across the board, his body is at least eight feet tall and seems to tower over a tiny child-sized Ben Knot.

It feels so good to be this big: a Goliath in the face of this David.

Brimming with false confidence, Mark begins to stride forward but with every step he seems to shrink, smaller and smaller, as the chequerboard floor slopes upward and the deceitful mirror reveals its trick until, finally, they are face to face.

‘Let me out.’ Mark tries to move past. ‘I want to go home.’ Ben grips his elbow.

‘Don’t cross me, Cherry, you’ll regret it.’ He slams him up against the wall. ‘Thanks, mate.’ Ben relaxes his grip and turns back to Patel. ‘I owe you one.’

Dave acknowledges him with a nod, swallowing his guilt.

Mark’s eyes dart between the two of them. ‘You’re working together?’ His voice trembles. ‘You pretend to be a friend, but you are just as bad as he is.’

Suddenly, out of nowhere, a fist smashes into Mark’s face and he goes down.

There’s a searing pain in his head and tiny white 204 lights begin spinning.

Ben hauls Mark back to his feet and shoves him hard into the wall, one hand on his throat, the other clenched, threatening a second punch.

‘Now, what did you say to me?’ His fingers tighten, choking Mark. ‘Say it again … to my face.’

‘Hey, mate, take it easy.’ Dave moves in to stop him, but Ben shrugs him off and slugs his fist into Mark’s stomach. He doubles over, but Ben still has him by the throat. ‘SAY IT.’ He’s about to go in for a third strike when Annie, Cat and Lynette burst in through the door.

‘BEN! Come on, leave him alone,’ Annie cries out to him, but Ben is now wound tighter than a spring.

‘You’re defending him?’ Ben stares at Annie in bewilderment. ‘But you heard what he said.’

Mark’s face is red, he’s choking and spluttering, but suddenly his lips become pale and his body starts to go limp as he loses strength and stops struggling.

‘You’re hurting him.’ Annie shakes her head in frustration. ‘Please just let him go, Ben. It’s not worth it.’

‘Well … you’ve certainly made your loyalties crystal clear.’ Ben stares at his so-called girlfriend.

‘You’re just a bully, Ben.’ It’s now Cat’s turn to wade in. ‘Stop it, he’s had enough. Can’t you see that?’

‘Oh! She’s so brave … Little Miss Perfect.’ Lynette Davis shoulder-barges Cat into the wall, willing the whole thing to kick off into a full-on scrap.

‘HEY!’ Annie grabs Lynette by the collar and yanks her back. ‘Get off her.’

‘Come on then, Farm Girl, give it your best shot.’ Lynette turns, fists raised, squaring up to her like a boxer.

Annie shakes her head at Ben. ‘See what you’ve done?’ But then she turns on Mark as well. ‘You provoked him.’ 205

Ben turns to Dave. ‘What do you think?’

Dave scans the faces in the darkness. He knows what he ought to do, the right thing to do. But his own neck is on the line.

‘He’s a little creep, isn’t he?’ Dave leans on the wall next to Ben. ‘Little weirdo.’

It’s three against three.

Annie stares at Dave with a withering look. ‘Of all the people, I thought you would know better.’ He reddens and his eyes drop to the floor.

She turns to Ben. ‘Cat’s right, you’re all bullies and cowards. When are you going to grow up? This was supposed to be a celebration. This is our last term together and you have to go and ruin it. Come on, I’m going to walk you home, Mark. Let’s go. Now.’

Annie steps in between them and frowns at Ben with such contempt in her eyes that he releases Mark.

‘Cat, I’ll see you at home.’ Annie gives her sister a knowing nod.

It’s time for a heart-to-heart. As she turns away, her eyes remain focused on Ben.

There is something scathing in her stare.

She has a power over him. In moments of mutual connection that power is glorious, but this humiliation in front of the gang is a new experience for Ben.

An uncomfortable feeling courses through him that is hard to comprehend. How dare she?

Outside, the air is cooler now. A light smattering of rain has started to fall and the handmade bunting for the Easter parade, which had fluttered with so much joy earlier in the day, hangs flaccid and damp.

Annie and Mark walk in silence until they round the bend of Forest Hill. Mark’s nose has stopped bleeding, but the blood has crusted all over his face. Annie takes out a handkerchief and hands it to him. 206

‘I’m sorry he hurt you. But you said something very cruel, Mark. Why did you say it?’

Mark dabs at his nose. ‘I dunno, it just came out.’ His voice is hoarse.

‘But you know about his dad, right?’

‘Of course. I was just angry at him. They all pick on me all the time and I’ve had enough.

’ There is anguish in his voice. As they reach the corner of his street, he stops.

‘I know I shouldn’t have said it.’ His eyes dart to the light flicking on through the glass of the front door to his house.

‘This is me.’ Mark turns back to Annie. She smiles at him.

His eyes are red rimmed. He looks so lost and alone.

‘Cat really likes you, Mark, but …’ She takes his hand, feeling him tense slightly. His eyes drop to his shoes. ‘I … I think you like boys, don’t you?’

Mark swallows, his face screwed up in pain, as his head turns to the silhouette twitching the nets in the window of the Cherry house. His mum is waiting up for him. Without looking at Annie, almost imperceptibly, he nods. There, it’s done, it’s finally out.

Annie holds out her other hand to him, her fist clenched. ‘Here, I got this from the bran tub, 10p a go.’ She opens her hand.

Mark takes the silver chain from her palm and looks at the small medallion attached.

‘It’s a St Christopher, patron saint of travellers.’ Annie pulls Mark into a hug; his body stays limp, drained from adrenaline. ‘Someone will carry you. I promise.’ Mark has no words. He didn’t want this. He didn’t want to be seen or carried. ‘It’s going to be OK.’ She smiles.

She really believed it would all be OK. But she was wrong.