Hidden

by Shalini Boland

  She looked at their faces. ‘What’s going on?’

  Maddy started to explain, but Trevor interrupted.

  ‘Madison’s got herself suspended from school and I’m thinking of adding ‘homeless’ to that description.’

  ‘Oh, Maddy, what’ve you done now?’

  ‘Get upstairs, while I talk to Angie.’ Trevor growled at her. Madison tramped up the narrow staircase. He hadn’t said he would definitely kick her out. There was still some hope. She lingered at the top of the stairs and strained her ears. Their voices were muffled, but Trevor soon turned the volume up.

  ‘I am not having her hanging around the house all day, every day while she’s suspended. And if she goes out she’s gonna get into even more trouble. We should never have taken her on in the first place.’

  ‘Don’t say that, Trevor. She’s had a rough time.’

  ‘We’ve all had a rough time. Don’t look at me like that. I’ve made up my mind.’

  ‘Ben’ll be distraught. He worships his sister.’

  ‘Ben’ll be fine. Maddy, get your arse down here now!’

  ‘Please calm down, Trevor. Drink your tea.’

  ‘Tea ain’t gonna do anything. Pass me the bottle.’

  Maddy came back into the kitchen to see her foster dad flinging the steaming contents of his mug into the sink and pouring himself a slosh of whisky. The room felt like a hot stale mouth. Hope curdled to sour anger. That familiar surge of helplessness overtook her, the dread she’d hoped not to feel again for a long time. Angie put a reassuring hand on Maddy’s shoulder and gave it a small squeeze. Maddy flinched and shook it off.

  ‘You, my girl, are really winding me up.’ Trevor jabbed a thick finger towards her.

  ‘I’m not your girl,’ Maddy muttered under her breath.

  ‘What’s that?’

  ‘I said I’m not your girl.’

  ‘Oh.’ Trevor raised his eyebrows at Angie. ‘She says she’s not my girl.’ He looked back at Maddy. ‘Well whose girl are you then? Because I don’t see anyone else rushing round to claim you.’

  ‘Trevor, that’s enough. And we don’t need anymore cheek from you either, young lady. I’ve just got in from work and all I want to do is put my feet up with a cup of tea, but instead I walk into World War Three. Come on now, both of you just calm down.’

  ‘I’m going out,’ Maddy stormed into the narrow hallway.

  ‘No you are not going out. Come back here. We haven’t finished talking yet!’ Trevor was yelling now.

  ‘I’ll see you later,’ and then she muttered, ‘or not.’

  ‘You walk out of that door and that’s it, Maddy. I’m warning you!’ Trevor lunged forward and grabbed her arm.

  ‘Get off me!’ Maddy shook him off and slammed out of the house.

  She didn’t know what to do. She felt shut down. Something tightened and closed inside her. She didn’t want to talk about this with her friends; it was too scary and exhausting to say the words out loud. Words like homeless and separation or care home. Maddy worried about Ben and what he would think when he got back and found her gone. She’d promised to help him with his project, but now he’d have to finish it by himself.

  After walking for a while, she found herself back on the busy High Street. The noise, dirt and heat, added to her feelings of turbulence and fear. Familiar surroundings seemed alien. Maddy craved peace, calm and normality, but she didn’t know where to go. The park would be packed with kids by now and she couldn’t face talking to anyone she knew, besides, Ben might still be there. Walking for about ten minutes, she negotiated her way past A boards, pushchairs and groups of ambling school kids who took up the whole pavement. Then, across the road, she saw an elderly woman shuffle out of a red brick building. Set back from the street, beyond a small neat garden, it squatted securely in the shade of some leafy trees. It looked like a public building, maybe a small drop-in centre or something, but as Maddy approached she saw it was a library.

  Crossing the busy road, she headed up the ramp and passed the old woman, still inching her way down towards the road, gripping the rusting railings for support.

  Maddy walked in, slightly reassured by its solidity and musty old scent, the air blissfully quiet and cool. She looked around and headed to the least busy section. Her eyes roamed across the book spines, not really concentrating as she didn‘t know what she was searching for. Then she recognised a familiar title and prised out a tatty copy of Jonathan Livingston Seagull. She loved that book.

  She spied a vacant chair and table at the end of the aisle, sat down and looked at the blue and white cover. Wouldn’t she love to be a seagull. She’d make the most of that freedom, savour it, hovering, swooping, gliding, diving. She inhaled the book. It calmed her and she turned to the first page. Black thoughts receded as she unfocused her eyes across the blur of words.

  Just as her breathing steadied, a voice made her start. She looked up and saw a man. He was telling her the library would be closing in five minutes time. The anger returned. She glared at the man and scraped her chair back. He smiled apologetically and backed away. Where could she go now? Not being a member of the library, she couldn’t even check the book out with her. She looked left and right, made sure no one was looking and wedged the thin volume down the back of her skirt, pulling her school shirt over the top.

  Maddy made a swift exit, back out into the humid unfriendly evening, starving and thirsty as she’d had nothing to eat since lunchtime. Her bag was back at the house, but anyway she’d given her last two pounds to Ben. She located a cough sweet in the front pocket of her skirt which had half melted to its wrapper. Using a blue varnished nail, Maddy spent a couple of minutes peeling the bits of paper off it and finally plopped the sticky cube into her mouth. It tasted pretty disgusting but it was better than nothing.

  Shania Lewis was having a party later, which probably wouldn’t get going till at least nine - more than three hours away. She’d left her mobile in her bag at home, but anyway, it had no credit and the battery was almost dead.

  All she could do for now, was just keep walking.

  *

  The party was already spilling out into the street when Madison arrived. She pushed her way inside and nodded to a few people. In the kitchen, the sight of a bowl of Hula Hoops induced a feeling of euphoria and she crammed a handful into her mouth. Then she spotted the fridge, leant down and hooked out a cold can of beer. As she straightened up, she felt two hands snake around her waist.

  ‘What the ...’ She whipped around ready to spew some vitriol, but saw the hands belonged to a boy she’d seen around. The arrogant one with the sardonic smile.

  Fifteen minutes later, they were staggering up the stairs, kissing and laughing. His dark stubble scratched her chin and his warm smell made her light headed and reckless.

  The boy pushed open a door and pulled her over onto an unmade double bed. The insistent bass line from downstairs helped mute her feelings. As their kisses grew deeper, she forgot about the fact she might not have a home, she forgot about her suspension from school, she forgot who she was, why she was here and why she cared about any of it. She just concentrated on the hot shivers in the depths of her body and the comforting feeling of being held, of being wanted.

  Madison didn’t particularly care about him, it was just convenient he looked fit, seemed to be into her and happened to be a pretty good kisser. He started to undo the buttons on her shirt. So far, she’d done a good job of keeping her clothes on, but his hands were stronger than hers.

  She wished he’d stay happy with the long deep kisses, but knew how likely that wasn’t, and his groping began to annoy her. Grabbing his hand more forcefully, she pushed it away.

  ‘Come on, Maddy.’

  ‘No.’

  ‘It feels good though doesn’t it? Just chill a bit.’

  ‘I said no. Don’t spoil it.’

  His hands wandered down past the back of her skirt and found the stolen library book.

  ‘What’s th
is?’ He pulled it out and squinted in the darkened room. ‘What you reading this for? Seagulls?’ He tossed it on the floor and started to kiss her again.

  ‘No, pass that back. I’m gonna go downstairs, I need a drink.’

  ‘We’ll get a drink later, come on.’ He tugged at her skirt.

  ‘No, get off!’ She sat up and shoved him away. ‘Where’s my book?’

  ‘God, girl, it’s just a frigging book! What is your problem? You some kind of geek or something?’

  Maddy jumped off the bed and scrabbled around on the floor until she found the book, wedged it back down her skirt and slammed out of the door.

  ‘Freak!’ the boy shouted after her.

  She stumbled past the smokers on the stairs and the sweaty crowd of kids in the hall and shakily made her way outside. The police had just pulled up outside the house. They were early, didn’t usually show up at parties until at least eleven. It had been raining - a short sharp thunderstorm and the air smelt burnt and damp.

  Maddy walked blurrily down the road in no particular direction until her legs grew tired and she sat down on the wet, grey kerb, with her feet in the gutter. Dirty rainwater swirled around her boots, but she didn’t care. This isn’t my life, she thought. I’ve seen real life on the telly, and I’ve read about it in books and it’s not like this. This is a mistake; my life is a great big mistake. It’s not supposed to be like this.

  Chapter Two

  Paris 1881

  *

  They were all furious with Alexandre. It was ridiculous. He had only escorted her outside onto the terrace for some air. Well … there was the small matter of the kiss. One tiny innocent kiss. But then, he supposed there was no such thing as an innocent kiss.

  At this moment he wished he had never set eyes on the girl. She had looked up at him from under her lashes, instantly seducing him with her china blue eyes. And now there was an almighty furore. It was the revolution all over again, with both families baying for his blood.

  *

  The evening had started out well enough. Their carriage had drawn up outside the neo-classical stone building set on its wide tree-lined Paris avenue. Hurrying out of the chill February air and shrugging off their coats, the Chevalier family had made their way into the great ballroom.

  The room murmured with the convivial buzz of chatter and soft laughter. Crystal chandeliers glittered and sparkled above walls hung with gleaming mirrors, reflecting the glamorous guests. Men, slick and groomed in black and white. Women, shining like multi-coloured birds, evening gowns cascading over bustles, in swirls, frills, ruffles and ribbons.

  Alexandre knew he looked dashing and, when he finally made his entrance, he sensed admiring eyes on him. He and his family were immediately presented to their hosts, the Bouviers.

  The Bouvier sisters were all remarkably ugly, with the exception of the youngest who had taken all the good genes and arranged them into a delightful mix of blonde ringlets, tiny nose and rosebud lips. Alexandre carefully observed etiquette to show them all the same courteous attention.

  ‘And this is our youngest, Lily.’ Monsieur Bouvier introduced her with an indulgent tone.

  The elder sisters’ expressions soured, jealousy abounding. It was a good thing Bouvier was wealthy, else his horse-faced daughters would be destined to board the fast coach to spinsterhood.

  Monsieur Bouvier turned to Alexandre’s Papa. ‘So, you and your good lady wife are soon away to Turkey to discover its hidden treasures. I am most curious to discover what you shall discover.’ Monsieur Bouvier was backing Papa in his archaeological career.

  ‘God willing, we shall find something of note there. It does sound promising by all accounts.’

  ‘Good. Come, come, let’s find you a place to sit.’

  The Chevaliers followed their host into the throng, where he found them seats next to the draughty French windows.

  Alexandre danced with one of Lily’s sisters first. Unfailingly charming, he made perfect small talk and put the awkward girl at her ease whilst trying to avoid having his shiny pointed shoes stamped on. A waltz followed and then a polka and finally he was to dance with Lily.

  She took his arm confidently and he felt her mother’s eyes boring holes into his back. Alexandre led her onto the dance floor and turned his gaze on her, taking in her pretty features and perfect form. She put her hand on top of his and spoke in a high, childish voice.

  ‘You must say something interesting, Monsieur, or I shall be forced to replace your name on my dance card with someone more convivial.’

  ‘Then I shall tell you how I have been so bored by my other partners, I was compelled to glance over their shoulders just to get a glimpse of you.’

  ‘Such cheek! I am sure those ladies must have found you most rude.’

  ‘Not at all, Mademoiselle. I did not let them see me looking over their shoulders. I was very discreet.’

  She giggled. ‘You have a roguish streak. I think this must be why my mother is glaring at us.’

  ‘I thought that was her natural facial expression. A glare for me you say? But it is the only expression I have ever seen her wear.’

  ‘That is my mother you are talking about! And it is the only expression you have seen her wear because it is reserved for you alone. I fear she may be right about you, Monsieur.’

  ‘I fear it too. There is then, no hope for me. Alas, what am I to do?’

  They flirted with one another until their dance ended and they were obliged to dance with other, less interesting partners. After a few more waltzes and cotillions, there was a break in the proceedings and the guests retired to the adjacent supper room for refreshments.

  Soon, however, the guests were back on the dance floor and once again Alexandre danced with Lily. They continued with their spirited banter until, disappointingly, their dance ended.

  ‘Monsieur Chevalier,’ Lily said, putting her hand to her forehead. ‘I do feel terribly faint all of a sudden. It must be the heat. Would you mind escorting me out on to the terrace before I fall?’

  Concerned, Alexandre glanced around and saw Madame Bouvier busy conversing with another guest.

  ‘Wait, Come and sit. I shall fetch your mother to see to you.’

  ‘No, please do not. I fear she will give me even more of a headache. No, I just wish a few moments in the fresh air, in your company.’

  ‘Very well.’ Alexandre took her arm and led her towards the nearest of the French windows. He opened the latch and they stepped out through the thick lace curtains onto a terrace which looked down upon a perfectly square lawn. He closed the door behind him, muffling the sound of music and chatter.

  The cold air refreshed Alexandre and his eyes welcomed the gloom, after the twinkling brightness of the ballroom.

  ‘Oh, I feel better already. It is too stuffy inside, do you not agree, Monsieur?’ Lily hugged herself briefly and put her tiny kid-gloved hand on his.

  ‘Mademoiselle.’ Alexandre was surprised at her forwardness and began to worry someone may have seen them go outside alone.

  Lily turned to look at him and tilted her face up so he could feel her soft breath on his face. Her closeness made him lose his rationality. Before he could stop himself, he had leaned down and placed a soft kiss on her rosebud lips.

  ‘Here they are!’ a woman’s voice neighed triumphantly as the curtains were drawn back and the doors flung open. Two of the Bouvier sisters appeared.

  Alexandre pulled back from Lily immediately, but knew it was already too late to deny anything. Some of the other guests glanced in their direction and his heart sank. This was trouble he could do without.

  Madame Bouvier spotted them. She instantly coloured, walked outside and closed the curtains to shield the scandal from shocked eyes. She glared at her other two daughters, strode up to Alexandre and hissed at him, ‘I believe it is time for you and your family to leave, Sir.’

  ‘Of course, Madame.’

  ‘You, young lady ...’ Madame Bouvier said, grabbing Lily
by the arm, ‘… are without shame.’

  Lily’s sisters stood by the window, smirking behind their hands and Alexandre walked back inside, trying to keep his face averted. His father was going to be furious.

  The dance continued despite the drama, but as The Chevaliers left the room, whispers and speculation followed close behind. Alexandre knew the details would become more scandalous and exaggerated with each retelling.

  *

  ‘It really is too bad, Alexandre,’ his younger sister, Isobel, said once they were back in the carriage and heading home a full hour earlier than anticipated. ‘It is only just the beginning of the season. My very first ball. And you have completely ruined it and ruined me! I shall be a laughing stock. My reputation is tarnished before it is made.’

  Jacques gave Alexandre a quick grin and was swiftly and uncharacteristically slapped by his mother. Jacques instantly wiped the grin away and looked down into his lap.

  ‘Is this really the kind of behaviour you want to teach your younger brother, Alexandre? You are supposed to be his role model. We have all been embarrassed.’ Maman looked as though she would burst into tears.

  His father had been sitting quietly with a face like thunder. Suddenly he roared, ‘Quiet, everybody! We shall discuss this tomorrow. I do not wish to hear another word this evening.’

  The remainder of the journey was completed in uncomfortable silence.

  *

  The following morning, Alexandre looked up with a start as his father entered the dining room. He saw no humour in Papa’s face so he lowered his head. For the first time ever, the family ate breakfast in silence. Alexandre chewed his food without tasting a thing.

  ‘Right,’ Papa said, once the plates had been cleared. ‘Isobel, Jacques, you may leave the table. Your mother and I have something to discuss with your brother.’

  The twins rose and hastily exited the room. His father turned to him.