You never; you always; you you you.
‘To see what Noah’s blood group was?’
‘He said,’ she swallows again, ‘he said he always wondered. But he didn’t want to pursue it, for Noah’s sake.’
‘And what did you say?’
‘I said, Fine, Noah’s not yours. But what you’re suggesting about Joe and I is monstrous, do you know what you’re saying?’
‘And?’
‘He said, I know what you did. I think I’ve always known, but I didn’t want to believe it. And then he said something really weird.’
I make a fist, my nails biting into my palm. ‘What did he say?’
‘He said, It’s raining, it’s pouring, the old man is snoring.’
My lips are numb. ‘He bumped his head on the end of the bed,’ I say, remembering a near-miss incident at Molly’s one morning, when Richard was away at a conference.
Is that why Mummy made that noise, Uncle Joe? Because you were play-fighting?
Yes, she bumped her head on the end of the bed. But maybe don’t tell Daddy, OK? He might get upset if he knew Mummy was hurt.
OK. And I won’t tell him you were in the nude because that’s rude.
How about you put that in the forgetting box in your brain, Noah? Can you do that?
‘Yes,’ Molly says. ‘Yes, that’s just what he said.’
I chew my bottom lip. Five-year-olds aren’t very good at keeping secrets, especially secrets they don’t understand.
‘What else did he say?’ I stare up at the sky. The moon is shrinking, reduced to a crescent. Soon there will be nothing left.
‘He said, My whole life has been a lie. I’ll never forgive you, never.’
Still biting my lip, I taste blood. My blood, and Noah’s. I could have lied when Richard had asked me my blood type. I knew why he was asking, after all. But part of me wanted him to know, wanted to twist the knife the way he’s been twisting the knife in my gut ever since he took my sister away from me.
Noah was my son, I think. He was mine, and that is one thing you can never take away from me.
‘He won’t keep it quiet, will he?’ I ask.
‘No,’ she says, her voice trembling. ‘I don’t believe he will.’
I stand up and walk until the sea is tugging at my thighs. I sense my sister behind me, even though I don’t hear her approach. It’s her tears I feel spilling down my cheeks, her chest cleaving open to expose our jellyfish heart. We don’t have long now. We know only too well where the rip starts, only a body’s length away.
She slips her arms around my waist, pushes her head into my back. And there we stay, as the sea creeps closer and closer.
Epilogue:
MOLLY 1984
It was the day after their fourteenth birthday, and Joe and Molly were hiding in their wardrobe.
They were hiding in their wardrobe because their parents were arguing. They were hiding in their wardrobe because their mother had thrown an apple at their father, causing his nose to bleed.
It would have been funny, if there hadn’t been so much blood.
They had been arguing over money, as usual. Their father had said they didn’t have enough money for Molly’s piano lessons, and why couldn’t their mother teach her anyway? Her mother had said, It’s better she learns from someone who can take her further than I ever could … Are you going to deny her the opportunity to be a world-class pianist rather than settling for being average, like me?
What’s wrong with being average? their father had roared back. What’s wrong with being normal?
My father always told me I was marrying into mediocrity, their mother had screamed back. And now I know he was right.
It was after their father had called their grandad a stuck-up prick that their mother had thrown the apple, and Molly and Joe had escaped into the wardrobe. They hadn’t retreated to the wardrobe since they were little kids. But Joe had said, Come on, Lolly, so she’d followed him in.
‘It’s dark in here,’ she’d said.
‘No kidding,’ Joe had said, goosing her, and they’d both got the giggles. But now their parents were still going for it, and it wasn’t funny anymore.
‘Do you think he’ll need a blood transfusion?’ Molly whispered.
‘I don’t think you can bleed to death through your nose,’ Joe said, although he didn’t sound so sure.
Hearing another thud from the lounge, Molly tensed. Joe rubbed her arm, the way he always did when she was about to cry.
‘Don’t worry,’ he said. ‘It’ll stop soon.’
‘I don’t want to live here anymore,’ Molly whispered.
‘Don’t say that.’ Joe’s voice was fierce. ‘You promised.’
‘I promised not to leave you.’ She took a shuddering breath in. ‘When I leave, will you come with me?’
‘Of course.’ Joe shifted, his bony elbows bumping up against her ribs. ‘Lolly?’
‘Yeah?’
‘Do you ever wonder what it’s like to kiss a boy?’
‘Of course.’ Molly shifted, her chin coming in contact with his shoulder. ‘Don’t you?’
‘I wonder what it’s like to kiss a girl,’ he said. And the thumping outside their room had stopped, but her heart was thumping, thumping in her chest.
‘We could practise if you want,’ she said. ‘No one would ever know.’
‘No,’ he said, his voice soft. ‘No one would ever know.’ He curled his hand around her neck and pressed his mouth against hers. Once, twice, three times, until her lips parted, until she felt his tongue nudging against hers, his breath swirling into her.
And she breathed him in. She breathed him in, felt his essence mixing with hers, felt something shift deep inside her brain.
‘Oh,’ she said an indefinable time later — half a minute? Half an hour? ‘That was — nice.’
‘No, that was wicked,’ Joe said, his breath lingering on her lips.
‘Wicked,’ she agreed, because that was the best word she knew too. ‘But Joe?’
‘Yeah?’
‘No one must ever know.’
‘No one will ever know,’ he said.
‘Do you swear?’
Joe took her hand, looped his little finger through hers.
‘Pinkie swear,’ he said.
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
Firstly, I’d like to thank Harriet Allan for her astute editorial eye, and all the suggestions that have made this novel shine. I’d also like to thank Barbara Larson for her fine editing, as well as Stu Lipshaw for working with me on the final version of the manuscript, along with all the other members of the Penguin Random House team who have helped to put the final polish on this novel. Thanks also to my agent, Frances Plumpton, for her ongoing support.
Once again, a big thank you to Nod Ghosh, my dear friend, for her insightful critique on the first, second and third drafts of this manuscript as it morphed from the embryonic single young-adult point-of-view to a rather different baby.
And last but definitely not least, thank you to my beautiful family for their ongoing patience, support and enthusiasm as they accompany me on my writing journey — my husband Grant, my son Lachie and my daughter Maisie. Thanks also to my parents, extended family and friends for believing in me. I love you all.
Eileen Merriman works as a consultant haematologist at North Shore Hospital. Her writing has appeared in a number of national and international journals and anthologies, including Smokelong Quarterly, The Island Review, Literary Orphans, the Bath Short Story Award Anthology 2015, the Sunday Star-Times, F(r)iction, takahē, Headland and Flash Frontier. Her first novel, Pieces of You, was a Best First Book nominee at the 2018 New Zealand Book Awards for Children and Young Adults and a Storylines Notable Book Award winner, with reviewers calling it ‘compulsively readable’ and ‘compelling, challenging, and heartbreaking’.
Eileen’s second novel, Catch Me When You Fall, was also a Storylines Notable Book Award winner and was nominated for the Copyright Licensing NZ
Award For Young Adult Fiction in 2018. Her other awards include runner-up in the 2018 Sunday Star-Times Short Story Award, third for three consecutive years in the 2014–2016 Sunday Star-Times Short Story Awards, second in the 2015 Bath Flash Fiction Award, commended in the 2015 Bath Short Story Competition, and first place in the 2015 Graeme Lay Short Story Competition.
Her third young adult novel, Invisibly Breathing was published in March 2019.
PRAISE FOR EILEEN MERRIMAN’S PREVIOUS NOVELS
‘Eileen Merriman’s debut YA novel Pieces of You is the kind of book you want to read in one sitting because it is so breathtakingly good. It is like a globe artichoke: sweet, layered, bitter … this is an acute reading experience. It feels utterly real. It does not smudge the tough stuff. It is kaleidoscopic in both emotion and everyday detail. Detail that animates the lives of two teens … Eileen writes with such a flair for dialogue, for family circumstances, for teenage struggles and joys. This is the kind of book that will stay at the front of my mind all week and longer — I recommend it highly.’ — Paula Green, Poetry Shelf
‘Welcome to New Zealand author Eileen Merriman’s debut YA novel, Pieces of You, which could well become one of the biggest local YA books of the year. It’s intelligent, literate — chapter headings reference classical and contemporary books — without becoming too scholarly, it’s pertinent, witty when it needs to be, thought-provoking and relatable.’ — Dionne Christian, NZ Herald
‘This is quality New Zealand fiction for the young adult reader in your family … Merriman captures the highs and lows, insecurities and the search for purpose as a young adult navigates their way into adulthood. A very honest, relevant and sometimes raw, novel [Pieces of You].’ — Wairarapa Times-Age Weekend
‘This tragic teen romance is so compulsively readable it’s hard to believe this is Kiwi writer Eileen Merriman’s first published novel … I defy anyone to put Pieces of You down once they have started it. Not since John Green’s 2012 novel The Fault in Our Stars have I read anything quite so tragically sweet.’
— Diane McCarthy, Eastern Bay Life
‘My best pick for 2018 for young adults, the standout for me was Catch Me When You Fall … it’s kind of heart-wrenching and really real and quirky and a great teen read for girls and boys.’ — James Russell, Radio NZ
‘This book [Catch Me When You Fall], like Merriman’s first, Pieces of You, is interested in life and death struggles, and the way that these struggles interact with the more everyday agonies and ecstasies of coming-of-age … Alex is engaging and likeable, a recognisable teen … The story is well-paced and absorbing … the story is effective in its depiction of the desperation inspired by love and fear of loss.’ — Angelina Sbroma, NZ Books
BLACK SWAN
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Black Swan is an imprint of the Penguin Random House group of companies, whose addresses can be found at global.penguinrandomhouse.com.
First published by Penguin Random House New Zealand, 2019
Text © Eileen Merriman, 2019
The moral right of the author has been asserted.
All rights reserved. Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise), without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book.
Design by Rachel Clark © Penguin Random House New Zealand
Cover photograph by Fossilized Tree Sap/Creative Market
Author photograph by David Rowland
Prepress by Image Centre Group
A catalogue record for this book is available from the National Library of New Zealand.
ISBN 978-0-14-377346-7
THE BEGINNING
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Moonlight Sonata Page 24
