I could see that Mum was just about to say, ‘Sorry, I think you’ve got the wrong person,’ and put the phone down, so I hissed at her, ‘Don’t! It’s Tia’s mother.’
‘Oh,’ Mum said, looking at me, and I could see she was so surprised that the stuff about Camilla and her mother hadn’t sunk in.
I was straining to hear, flapping my hands at Sam, who’d come back into the kitchen to look for his jacket.
‘This is Dixie Braithwaite,’ Tia’s mother was saying. ‘Your little girl, Carly, seems to have chummed up rather with Tia, my daughter. Awfully nice for them both to find a kindred spirit in this neck of the woods, don’t you think?’
She gave a loud, unnecessary laugh, and Mum held the phone away from her ear. Sam started whistling, I glared at him, he put up his hands as if pretending to fend me off, saw his jacket where he’d dumped it on the washing machine, picked it up and went out of the back door, banging it shut behind him.
‘Er, yes,’ Mum said, making one of her God-this-is-weird-I-don’t-get-it-at-all faces.
‘Would you mind frightfully if Carly came over this afternoon?’ Tia’s mother went on. ‘Unfortunately I have to dash out, and Tia’s rather at a loose end. Weekends do stretch on, don’t they?’
‘Well . . .’ said Mum, and I held my breath. She was always moaning on about weekends passing quicker than a snowstorm in summer, what with the washing and the shopping and the housework and her heaps and heaps of marking, and I was dead scared she’d start saying as much.
There was a pause and I heard a clinking sound at the other end.
‘Do you want me to send someone over to pick Carly up?’ Tia’s mother went on, ‘Or can she manage to get here under her own steam?’
‘What? Good grief, she can walk,’ said Mum sharply. ‘It’s only two minutes up the road.’
‘Oh.’ Tia’s mother sounded surprised. I imagined her mentally scanning the streets round Paradise End, thinking she must have missed something. ‘How marvellous. Tia will be thrilled.’
‘What time do you want Carly to come up then?’ Mum was never much of a one for speeches, but she sounded even more abrupt than usual, and I knew she was thinking that Tia’s mother was talking a load of gush.
‘The sooner the better!’ Tia’s mother said with a another laugh. ‘You know what girls are like. Friendship is all at that age, isn’t it?’
No one knows more about girls of my age than Mum. She teaches classrooms full every day. I crossed my fingers behind my back, hoping she wasn’t going to start.
‘Did you say you were going out yourself?’ she said, frowning at the telephone.
‘Oh, you mustn’t worry about that.’ Tia’s mother laughed again. ‘The housekeeper will be here. Graziella’s a great friend of Tia’s. Awfully good with her. She’ll keep an eye on things and do them some supper. Such a bore that I can’t be here myself, but duty calls, I’m afraid.’
‘It’s very kind of you, Mrs um . . .’ said Mum, turning to look at me and raising her eyebrows. I nodded my head so hard that my teeth started rattling. ‘Carly would love to come. I’d like her back here at a reasonable time though. She has her homework to do.’
‘Of course.’ I could hear her relief buzzing down the wire. ‘Tia will be thrilled. So lovely to talk to you. We must get together for lunch one day.’
Mum opened her mouth, about to protest, but the phone had already gone down at the other end.
‘Lunch, eh?’ she said, turning to me, and I could see that a smile was puckering up her red cheeks. ‘I think I can see it, can’t you? “Sorry, Class 7B. Can’t take you for geography today. I’m going out to lunch with –” What did you say her name was?’
‘Dixie. Dixie Braithwaite.’
A little crease appeared in Mum’s forehead.
‘Where have I heard that name before?’
‘No idea,’ I said quickly. I didn’t want Mum to remember about Dixie being an actress. She might have heard all sorts of awful things about her. ‘Tia’s not like her mum anyway. Not one little bit. She’s really nice. Anyway, she’s lonely. She’s only here at the weekends, because she goes to boarding school, and her mother went out last night too. Tia was dead upset about it. She needs company.’
‘I see,’ said Mum sarcastically. ‘Babysitting – is that what they want you for?’ She must have seen the fury in my face, because she threw up her hands in surrender. ‘Sorry, love. That was unfair. I suppose it can’t be much fun for her, rattling around on her own in that great big barn of a place. All right, Carly. Off you go. As a matter of fact I haven’t got a spare second this afternoon to do your costume, what with the ironing and all.’
She looked so harassed that I felt almost guilty.
‘I’ll give you a hand tomorrow, Mum, honestly I will,’ I said, and I gave her a hug and kiss on her damp cheek, and dashed upstairs to find something that I could wear, which might, with a huge stretch of the imagination, have just possibly come out of Tia’s amazing wardrobe.
7
‘How did you get my phone number?’ I asked Tia as we walked up the gravel drive together towards the house. She’d been waiting inside the gate when I arrived, pretending to practise her tennis strokes. ‘I didn’t give it to you, did I? And we’re not in the book. Dad had to go ex-directory after we had some nasty calls from a con.’
‘It took a bit of a hunt.’ Tia looked pleased with herself. ‘I like doing that kind of thing. It makes me feel I’m beating the system. It wasn’t terribly difficult anyway. I remembered the directories in the library. The local one’s years out of date, but I thought you just might be in it, and there you were.’
‘In the library?’ I was surprised. ‘I didn’t know they kept phone books there. I thought they only had fiction and history and videos and stuff.’
Tia looked a bit self-conscious.
‘Not the public library. Our library. Didn’t you see it the other day? Come on. I’ll show it to you now.’
‘No,’ I said quickly. ‘Let’s go up to your room.’
I didn’t want to see another grand room in Paradise End just yet. The gold drawing room and the red dining room had made me feel about ten centimetres tall. I wanted to leave the library for another day.
‘OK,’ said Tia. She didn’t seem to mind.
I followed her up the stairs. It was only the second time I’d walked up those wide, shallow steps, letting my hand linger on the smooth banister rail as I’d done before, while I looked up at the old pictures in their curvy frames, but already I felt I was beginning to know it. I could cope with the hall and the stairs. I’d taken possession of them in a new kind of way in my mind.
A bit at a time, I told myself. I can handle this a bit at a time. And inside me there was a spark of pride and a voice saying, Look at me, walking up these stairs as if they really did belong to me.
At the top I stopped, and looked down over the gallery rail into the hall below. Light was flooding into it through the long front windows, streaming across the floor from the open door of the drawing room, that was filled with golden sunshine. The brilliance of it made the reds and blues of the rugs glow, lustrous and warm. I took a deep breath and smelt furniture polish and roses. The clock at the foot of the stairs ticked peacefully, loud and unhurried. It was the only sound.
I could feel the beauty of Paradise End wrapping its tendrils round me again, drawing me in. I pushed the horrible things out of my mind – Tia’s loneliness, her lack of freedom, her strange, unhappy family. I just wanted to be there, in that lovely house, to pretend to myself that I belonged in it.
A horrible small voice inside my head said, You only want to be Tia’s friend because you like coming here. You’re using her.
At that moment, I reckon it was telling the truth.
Then, from behind a closed door downstairs, someone turned on a radio. I looked at Tia. She’d been leaning over the gallery rail beside me, as if she understood my mood.
‘I thought your mum had gone out,’
I said.
She bent down to brush something off her shoe, and her hair flopped over her face.
‘She has. That’s Graziella’s radio. She’s in the kitchen.’
‘Where’s your mum gone then?’ I said curiously. ‘She told mine it was duty calling, or something. Has she got a new part? Is she in a film or anything?’
Tia didn’t answer for a moment, and I saw a flash of anger in her blue eyes. Then she said vaguely, ‘Oh, you know. Just out,’ and she turned her back on me and walked towards her bedroom.
Don’t tell me then, I thought. See if I care.
There was no carpet in the gallery, just shiny wooden floorboards, so old and dark they were almost black. I could feel the hard, smooth texture under my feet, and without even thinking, I did a quick routine, just one of our usual practice ones. I didn’t have my tap shoes on, of course, only sandals, but they had hard leather soles, and the sound wasn’t too bad. It echoed along the gallery and down into the hall below.
Tia stopped dead in her tracks and turned round.
‘What’s that? What are you doing?’
‘Tap. Tap-dancing. I told you before, remember? About my poster? I’m really into it.’
I did a bit more, as best I could without my proper shoes on, only a couple of brushes and a roll. Then I spread out my hands and went, ‘Da-daa.’
Tia was staring at me, her eyes filled with admiration. I wasn’t used to that. People at school are sick of my tap, and I try not to do it there, except with my own little crowd who know me and don’t take much notice, but even they tease me sometimes and call me things like ‘Happy-tappy’ and ‘Super-feet’.
‘That is just the most brilliant thing,’ Tia said, almost reverently. ‘It’s totally amazing. I couldn’t ever do that. Never.’
‘Yes, you could.’
I knew she wouldn’t be able to, but I couldn’t resist proving it to her.
‘I’ll show you how to do the riff walk,’ I said. ‘It’s dead easy. Watch me. Now, relax your feet and walk naturally. Just ordinarily, in a circle. OK. Squeeze your front knee back. That’s the knee trigger. Let the feeling go down into your heel.’
‘I don’t know what you mean,’ Tia said anxiously. ‘I can’t do it.’
‘Yes, you can.’ I was sounding like Mrs Litvinov. ‘I’ll show you again.’
‘No, no, I can’t!’ Tia had stiffened up all over. ‘You do it, Carly. Just let me watch. I won’t enjoy it if I think I’ve got to do it too.’
‘But a riff walk’s not difficult. Look, all you have to—’
‘No!’ She sounded almost panicky. ‘Please! Don’t try and teach me. I can never learn anything. Just show me. Do some more and let me watch.’
I shrugged. People don’t often ask me to dance for them, and that beautiful gallery with its perfect wooden floor was begging me to have a go. So off I went, into a whole number, slapping my sandals down on the bare boards, hearing the music in my head, showing off to Tia as hard as I possibly could.
When I’d finished she clapped, as if she’d been watching a show.
‘Carly, you’re incredible! I’ve never seen anything like it!’
You can’t help glowing when someone praises you. I loved it. I grinned at her, wishing I had long hair like hers, to shake out of my eyes in a careless kind of way.
‘It’s nothing without the proper shoes.’ I was trying to sound modest. ‘That was only a practice routine anyway. You should see what I’m doing for the display’
‘What display?’
We’d walked on into her bedroom and our feet were now sinking silently into her thick carpet.
‘In Torminster. In June. Mrs Litvinov, she’s my teacher, she’s picked me out to be in the annual show. It’s going to be at the town hall.’
‘I’ll be there,’ said Tia. ‘Definitely I’ve got to see it. You’re so good you could dance professionally. On the actual stage.’
I tried to laugh it off.
‘Honestly, I’m rubbish really. It’s all Mrs Litvinov. She’s so brilliant. Mum says she could teach a brick wall to dance.’
We were sitting on her sofa now, curled up at opposite ends, facing each other.
‘She couldn’t teach me,’ said Tia. ‘I’m absolutely useless at everything. They’ve practically given up on me at school. The teachers at school all say I’m lazy, but I’m not. I just freeze up when they try to make me do things. I just know I’ll mess everything up and get it wrong.’
She was wearing a blue skirt that day, that looked as if it had stepped right out of a glossy magazine, and over it she had on a skimpy denim jacket, a perfect fit, with little zips and pockets down the front. Her hair was shining like in the TV adverts, and as she spoke she swung it back, so that it brushed against her silk sofa. I felt the snake’s tongue of jealousy flicker across my heart.
‘So what?’ I said, suddenly wanting to be mean. ‘You don’t need to be good at anything. Everything’s been handed to you on a silver plate, thank you very much.’
She shrivelled right up in front of my eyes, and I wanted to snatch my words back at once.
‘I know.’ She tried to laugh, pretending she didn’t care, though I could see she did. ‘I know I’ve got everything. But the thing is, you see, when it comes to me, myself, I’m nothing. Worthless. Like a useless person or something.’
I sat there feeling terrible. I’d hurt her and I didn’t know how to put it right.
‘You’re not worthless,’ I said at last, my voice coming out rougher than I’d intended. ‘No one is. Everyone’s good at something. Everyone. Mum says that and she ought to know. She’s a teacher.’
Tia just shrugged her shoulders.
I felt worse than ever.
‘Look,’ I said, shifting myself along the sofa, so that I was nearer to her. ‘You must be good at something. What’s your best subject at school?’
She frowned and rolled her eyes.
‘Oh, school,’ she said.
‘OK. What about – let’s see now – things outside school. I know, cooking.’
‘I don’t know. Graziella never lets me try. She says she’s got enough to do without clearing up after me in the kitchen.’
‘Sport?’
‘I can play tennis a bit, but not really. I just mess about with it. Not nearly good enough for the school tournament anyway.’
I remembered the boots in her cupboard.
‘Riding?’
She shuddered.
‘I have to when I go to Argentina to stay with Daddy. I’ve even got my own horse there. I don’t dare tell him I hate riding, because he bought Firefly for me specially, and I couldn’t bear to hurt his feelings, but I just dread it. Horses simply terrify me. Anyway, I haven’t been out to Argentina for years. Firefly’s probably got so fat he couldn’t even waddle out of the stable.’
I swallowed hard. The jealousy running through me wasn’t flickers any more, but real, hot flames. Her own horse! And she didn’t even like riding! I pushed the thought away. Tia was a challenge, and I was going to sort her out. One way or another, I had to stop her looking so depressed.
‘OK. Look at it another way. Is there anything you really like doing? A hobby or something?’
She looked away from me.
‘You’ll think I’m silly.’
‘Course I won’t. Let me guess. You’re um – er – you have this weird passion for dangerous reptiles. You keep a cobra in your wardrobe.’
She smiled.
‘OK then. You’re a trainspotter. You’ve got a secret store of anoraks.’
‘She giggled.
‘No? All right. I’ve got it. You’re a closet Elvis impersonator.’
She broke into a shout of laughter. I did too, and we started rolling about on the sofa.
‘Elvis!’ she gasped. ‘White satin and silver glitter!’
‘Hair gel and high-heeled boots!’
‘Oh my God!’
‘We were laughing and hiccuping, our faces bright
red and our eyes streaming. We stopped at last. I wasn’t going to let her off the hook though.
‘What is it then, Tia?’ I said. ‘What do you like doing?’
‘You’ll laugh.’
‘I won’t. I never laugh.’
That set us off again. It was even worse this time. You know how it is when you start laughing and you can’t stop, and even though you’ve forgotten what started it, and it wasn’t very funny in the first place, you just go on and on? That’s what it was like.
In the end my sides hurt so much I just had to get away. I almost crawled to the bathroom and got myself a drink of water. Then I caught sight of myself in the mirror over the basin, and that sobered me up at once. I looked a total mess. My eyes were streaming, my hair stood on end and my clothes were all ruckled up.
I smoothed myself down and went back to Tia.
She’d stopped laughing too. She was on her knees in front of a big antique-looking chest of drawers, pulling out the bottom one.
She lifted something out and held it up to me.
‘I like designing stuff. Clothes. I can’t do the real thing, make proper clothes I mean, because Mimi would be bound to find out and tell me I was hopeless, and if I did it at school they’d tease to me to death, so I do it in miniature with my old toys. I know it’s babyish. I won’t mind if you say so. Everyone would think so, if they knew. That’s why I keep them hidden in here.’
She was holding her breath as she put a little bear into my hands. I could see that she was terrified that I’d laugh at her.
I took the bear out of her hands. It was just an ordinary teddy, quite sweet, with honey-coloured fur, but it was perfectly dressed in a little suit, with shiny black-satin trousers and a miniature jacket dotted all over with sequins. It was wearing a funny hat, really smart, that perched on top of its head between its ears.
‘You didn’t make these yourself?’ I said. I was dead impressed.
‘I did the design and made the patterns and cut them out, and Graziella helped me with the sewing part.’ Tia was watching me anxiously. ‘She’s brilliant at it. She trained as a dressmaker actually. I used to just watch her, but I’m learning how to do it myself now. She doesn’t say anything to Mimi because she really enjoys doing it too. Anyway, she says it keeps me quiet and out of her way. Look, here’s another.’
Paradise End Page 6
