Laddered Tightropes

by Dillie Dorian

  “Bad luck,” said Andy, marvelling at the last three notes of the night before turning to give me his whole attention: “What’d you think of the playing?”

  “Oh, it was great…” I said vaguely but un-sarcastically. “Except for this whining in my ear the whole time…”

  “Sounds like tinnitus – not surprising with the competing tastes of Charlie and Zak to live with. I couldn’t bear staying at your house!”

  Ha. HA, Charlie. The person I’m going out with doesn’t hang around all week. I can have a bath without fear of Andy thinking I’m having a poo.

  “I meant Jade. But if she did make it in showbusiness and needed a stagename, I suppose Jade Tinnitus would suit.”

  I knew Jade wasn’t listening; I wasn’t enough of a bitch to sound off in front of her, even though she’d spent the most part of the evening spectacularly slagging off my relatives. She was too busy bugging Kitty: “Why’re all your family so boring? Specially your big sister; she’s weird, and so’s her friend!”

  “Shut up about my family,” said Kitty, coldly, letting her balloon bob right up and hit the ceiling, before joining hands with me and Andy, as we all got up to leave.

  Devon gently shook Charlie awake. “C’mon, babes, it’s time to go…”

  He peeled his eyes open. “Oh no, did I sleep through the whole thing?” I could tell that my musically-inclined twin was more than a little embarrassed to have inadvertently ignored a great evening’s jazzing (and didn’t know how lucky he was to have slept through a bad evening’s bitching), because he then shrugged his hair over them (his eyes, I mean) and shouted, “Great show, Rocky!”

  “Mate, that was smooth!” Zak laughed, and I didn’t know if he was on about the performance or our brother’s spot of improvisation.

  #12 Through The Corn Wall

  I sighed, raising my flag in the air.

  “Don’t give up yet!” Devon yelled, authoritatively, grabbing it from me. “It can’t be that hard! We just have to go back the way we came from and take the other route…”

  “Dev! This is worse than that Disorienteering crap,” I grumbled.

  “Well, we have to do better than the boys! C’mon, lighten up!”

  I scowled up at the towering walls of corny corn. What was even the point of getting deliberately lost? I’d never got mazes, or blindfolds, or, well… I’d certainly come to appreciate the idea of earplugs.

  “Can’t we just keep going this way?” I groaned. “You were so sure half an hour ago!”

  Tssis! tssis! tssis!, I heard, just a corner or two away. That meant that the boys had losted themselves nearby too. The sound kept getting louder, as whichever moron male was currently destroying his eardrums neared himself up to us.

  I turned back around.

  “Zak?”

  “Yuhhh…?” he drawled, hands-in-pockets-ly. (He’d recently picked up on how “cool” that made Charlie look, and followed suit.)

  I may as well have been trying to communicate with the seagull soaring above us. In fact, when it lowered itself nearby, I was slightly worried that the world was about to go all Stella Etc on me just because I’d set foot near a beach this week. Maybe the seagull knew the way!

  It didn’t.

  Just dropped one on Zak’s shoulder and flew off.

  “So this isn’t the right direction?” I asked Ryan, confused.

  “Well, we just came from that way and it’s a total dead end.”

  “Oh.”

  “So I figured we should be going the other way.”

  That was when I noticed someone trailing behind them, kicking gravel. Cousin Who. “Look, do you guys know the way round or not?”

  “We told you, NO!” Zak yelled.

  The Cousin shrugged. “Welp. Woulda helped you.” And he hared off back the way we’d come.

  “Crap,” said Ryan. “Do you think he knows the way?”

  I sighed. “Probably. He does live here.”

  “What, in the maze?” asked a familiarly jokey voice. I’d never been so glad to hear it.

  “Andy!” I yelped, spinning round and hugging him. “Are you lost too?”

  “Nah. Been there and back.”

  I looked bemused at Charlie. “What, you too?”

  “Well, he only had to follow me,” Andy chuckled. “And still managed to get lost.”

  “OK, let’s make this interesting!” Zak challenged, disgustedly wiping his shoulder with a tissue he’d found in his pocket. A ketchup-covered one from Pizza Hut.

  “How?”

  “Harley and Andy, and Devon and Charlie could make teams. If I’m right, giving Charlie’s team a five minute head start, you’d still beat them.”

  “I take offense to that!” said Devon.

  “You didn’t exactly win at Orienteering,” I pointed out.

  “I’m on for that,” said Andy. He gave me a squeezy hug.

  “This is HAPPENING!!” screamed Devon, excitably. She grabbed Charlie’s hand and dragged him away in the direction Andy had come from.

  “Five minutes?” scoffed Andy. “That’s no kind of head-start. Do you know how long we’ve been here?”

  “Uh…”

  Zak and Ryan had also disappeared.

  “An hour.”

  “Ugh.”

  “We’ll catch up to them in no time, and I bet they went the wrong way at the turning.”

  “Well, yeah,” I agreed. “Devon’s so easily distracted, and Charlie once got lost going to the shops and back.”

  “Now look; five minutes we could’ve spent kissing we’ve spent debating,” said Andy.

  I didn’t think it had been five minutes. “Shall we get going then?” I asked, figuring that the sun was threatening heatstroke.

  Andy grabbed my hand and helped me through the corn wall. “This way!”

  “Why?” I asked. “That’s cheating.”

  “It’s a shortcut.” He winked.

  We did it again, and again, and again. Each time, he carefully pulled back the bushes so that they wouldn’t twang me, and dragged himself after. Before long we were almost in the middle of the maze, and had to take the right path or anyone who was hanging out in there would twig. We burst into the middle and they were.

  How come, even though we’d cheated, everyone was there first? And how come, even though we’d cheated, I felt let down…?

  Mum and Freesia and Clifford and were picnicking and chatting, with Kitty and Jade Tinnitus and little Lemmy. Devon and Charlie were (somehow) already cuddled up and being grossly overromantic given the company. The Cousin was unsurprisingly also in attendance.

  “Andy!” tutted Mum. “You’re covered in dirt.”

  “I tripped,” he lied, knowing she’d believe him.

  “Well, how did you guys beat us here?” I probed Devon. “You were useless at camp.”

  “Dunno,” she said, disinterestedly, and went back to kissing Charlie.

  “And where’s Zak?” I asked of anyone who would listen.

  “Harry walked back to the toilets with him so he could get the bird poo out of his hair,” said Mum. (I hadn’t thought any of it was in his hair.)

  Cliff chuckled. “And Ryan offered to play hide and seek with Nobby, but I think he’s followed them.”

  “Nobby” didn’t look bothered. He was too busy faffing with his phone.

  “Off to the circus then?” asked Mum.

  It wasn’t really a question, and apparently I wasn’t entitled to lunch…

  #13 Circussy, Family Love

  At the park, the big-top was still being erected.

  “Oh, no!” exclaimed Mum. “We’ve come on the wrong day!”

  “What day’s on the tickets?” asked Ryan.

  “We don’t have tickets,” said Harry.

  Ryan pointed to the big sign on the railings: SOLD OUT.

  Bummer. I had been quite looking forward to getting into the shade.

  “Well, so much for the circus,” snickered Zak, who looked well chuffed.<
br />
  “Yeah, so much for the circus.” Jade was grinning.

  “Back to the beach, then?” suggested Harry.

  It was only when we reached the car that we realised that Devon was gone.

  “I bet she’s hanging around all them carnies,” said Zak, spitefully.

  “What’s a carnie?” asked Kitty.

  Harry groaned. “Harley, would you go and find Devon please?”

  “Sure,” I mumbled, sort of curious. Trust Devon to want to meet the circus performers more than she wanted to see them at work.

  I made back towards the field. It was absolutely baking, and on second thoughts I had to wonder if they were actually taking the tent down – because, you know, fire safety. If they ran out of firefighters, they weren’t easily getting any more.

  “Oi!” yelled a voice, as I made it onto the fried grass. “You can’t just walk in here!”

  I looked around frantically. An older boy had come running across the grass, all tanned and shiny with sweat. His hair was spiked up just liked Jordy’s, which gave me a pang.

  I felt wobbly. “I’m looking for my friend.”

  “Over here!” shouted Devon, from a foldy chair beside a caravan. By her side sat a leathery, frail-looking woman dressed in a shin-length, creased denim skirt and strappy top. Her hair was dark, wavy and glossy – contrary to her tired skin. It hung in fat loops where it hadn’t been brushed, seemingly too thick to dread like you’d expect. “This is my mum.”

  Uh-huh. I know it’s not what you’re supposed to do, but this new information had me mentally mapping my best friend’s genetic background. Devon had coarse, springy hair from what I’d actually seen. Her skin was paler than her mother’s, but then again she lived in England and wore sun-cream. Devon was full-figured, and her mum looked ancient before her time. Call me a weirdo, but how Dev got to be so beautiful was a lot more interesting to me than anything else about the weary-looking stranger in front of us.

  “She’s your friend?” asked the still-hovering guy, with disbelief.

  “Yeah,” Devon and I both said at once.

  “Then who’s the dilly-boy?” he asked.

  That was when I noticed that Charlie had followed me.

  I smirked. “That’s her boyfriend.”

  “Shame.” He gave Charlie a nod. I wasn’t 100% on whether he meant that he fancied Devon, or fancied Charlie.

  Charlie smiled awkwardly back.

  We went over to join Devon and her mother, who was smoking. In the caravan doorway appeared an inquisitive child, probably five or six. He or she had neglected, crimpy brown hair and wore a Southampton football shirt and white cargo shorts.

  Devon jumped out of her skin. “Who’s that? Mum? Mum, who’s that?!”

  Devon’s mum turned in the direction of her daughter’s panic and reached out for the child’s hand. “Libra. Libs.”

  “O-K…”

  I could sense Dev’s brain whirring at a million miles a minute – as was mine.

  Her mum shrugged. “Your half-sister.”

  “Oh!” said Devon, as if mocking her own non-existent stupidity. “You replaced me. Cool.”

  “I’ve changed,” said her mum.

  I didn’t know if she had or not, but her eldest daughter didn’t look convinced. “You didn’t get in touch.”

  “I tried. They said you were adopted. It’s not that easy.”

  “Don’t you dare tell me what’s easy!” Devon shouted. “I was only adopted two years ago. You had plenty of time.”

  Silence.

  She rose out of her chair. Her indignation could be felt in the air.

  “What have you got to say for yourself?!”

  Devon’s mum took another drag from her cigarette, considering what to say, and decided on, “I’m not sorry, you mouthy little haybag!”

  “Cool. All the best. Ta-ra!” shouted Dev, and with that she marched off.

  Charlie and I loped after her.

  “How did you even know she was here?” I asked.

  “Same company,” huffed Devon.

  “What about your sister?” asked Charlie.

  “Half-sister. That’s up to social services; not me!”

  “That’s not like you,” I pointed out. “You’d move heaven and earth for Kitty. How is this different?”

  “Mother may be loopy but the children are always fine. Not great but fine. Would’ve thought your family knew all about that.”

  Charlie was visibly put out by the fact that Devon had approached her mother. I got that. He was supposed to be on a happy holiday with his new girlfriend, and she’d somehow absorbed herself in this. “Why did you even come here?” he wavered.

  She clearly didn’t want to talk. “I wanted answers; I got answers; and now I’m leaving. Drop it.”

  “But-”

  “DROP IT!!”

  We’d reached the street, and I could already pick out Mum and Harry sitting outside a café a little way away. Devon motioned for silence – or, well, I think that’s what she was flailing about.

  “Where have you been?” asked Mum.

  “Circus,” said Dev.

  “What for?” asked Harry.

  “My mother,” said Devon, honestly. “Can we leave it?”

  Harry shrugged. Honestly, he was probably thinking she meant along the lines of a souvenir. Whether or not Devon knew her mother had never been any of his concern.

  “ICEQUEEM!!” came a voice from behind us.

  We all turned.

  “Ice queem?” said Libby, this time more quietly.

  “What’re you doing here?” asked Dev, coldly. It seemed that the kid had just heard “sister” and run with it because it sounded more fun than hanging about the campsite. She couldn’t possibly have fallen for Devon’s personality, the way that she was coming off today. I thought again of their mother – the city girl who’d run away with the circus. Erm, wait, no; that was plausible. “She’s Mum’s kid,” she muttered as an afterthought.

  Libby pointed to the Cornetto in Harry’s hand.

  “You can’t ask children such wide-open questions, Devon,” said Mum, with unusual clarity herself. “What did you say your name was, love?” she asked Libby.

  “Didden,” said Libby.

  “No, I’m Devon,” said Devon.

  “I think she said ‘didn’t’,” Ryan explained.

  “Since when are you such an expert translator?” asked Andy.

  “Frapped if I know,” said Ry. “I think it’s all those French ’toons Dad made me watch when I was sick.”

  Libby looked completely lost. She pointed at the Cornetto again. If I didn’t know better, I would’ve thought she was the picture of poverty. She wore dirty trainers a size too big and there were muddy scuffs all over her clothes. Her curly, dark hair was matted together in a lumpy brush, flattened to one side as if she’d slept literally in a corner. I hadn’t seen any other kids about the site, but the men and boys working on the big top had been clean-shaven and looked about as polished as they come after a morning of manual labour. They almost certainly smelled less than Dad had. What was the deal?

  “Shall we get you an ice cream?” offered Ryan, taking her hand.

  “Ice queem, yeah!” said Libby, who seemed to have the vocabulary of a toddler at best.

  Devon looked uneasy. For the first time, she was sort-of hanging back behind Charlie, where usually it was the other way around. I wondered for a second whether she’d been overcome with shyness towards her sister, but decided that it couldn’t be that.

  “Really, what’s the matter?” asked Charlie.

  “Nothing,” said Dev. “She has to go back. Now.”

  “Well, yeah,” said Zak. “Ryan could get done for kidnapping right now.”

  “Speaking of kidnappers,” I managed, in sudden blind panic. “Where are Kitty and Jade?!”

  “Relax, Harley,” said Mum. “They’re looking in the gift shop.”

  “Gift shops have backrooms,” muttered An
dy, unhelpfully.

  “We’re on holiday,” she defended herself. “That means a break for the grown-ups as well.”

  “So put them in a crèche!” snapped Devon, already chasing her tailbone on the spot in search of the shop in question. “Oh my God!”

  Harry sighed. “Harley, keep them occupied while we offload-”

  “Mum Mum Mum Mum Mum!” shouted Kitty from a doorway two shops down.

  “Wha-at?” called Mum, in reply.

  “I have decided on a blowy dolphin!”

  “Come over here and talk,” said Harry.

  Kitty raced over.

  “Not without Jade!” I groaned.

  I ran for the shop to make sure that she was still there. She was, fortunately-I-guess, still rootling through the magazines. Honestly; of all the take-homes she could’ve picked, she wanted a magazine that would probably have no connection to our summer holiday beyond a teeny-tiny date stamp.

  “What have you chosen?” I asked, conversationally.

  “I wannid to get Cosmo, but this one has a DVD,” she blustered, fanning out her handful of glossies awkwardly for me to see. A cover tore.

  “Jade, that’s a men’s magazine,” I said of the one with the DVD.

  “It has stars. It’s about pop stars. They’re for everyone.”

  I paused. “They aren’t pop stars; they’re models.”

  “So? Models are priddy.”

  “Well, you have to be older to buy it because that’s the law.”

  Ordinarily, I would’ve felt like the worst role model ever for forgoing the educational, women’s rights speech that the situation beckoned, but today I had mine and Devon’s mothers to contend with, so I figured I was safe.

  Nope. “You’re older. You buy it.”

  “I’m not old enough. You have to be eighteen.”

  “You look eighty.”

  Not that again…

  “Just pick another magazine. I am not going to argue with you over this.”

  Jade folded her arms, scrumpling the pile. “Dad would buy it for me. Dad buys me everything.”

  “Well he’s not here,” I said, harshly. It was Jade…

  Uh-oh.

  There was not a lip-wobble of warning. She just burst into tears without hesitation, on-off like everybody else’s bathtaps. Her arms flew out, ripping the other magazines. The one with the DVD soared across the room, but fortunately-I-guess was unharmed due to its plastic packaging. “Daddy would buy it for me! Daddy buys everything! DADDY LOVES POP STARS AND SO. DO. I!! DADDY’S WONDERFUL AND YOU’RE HORRIBLE!! GO. AND. DIEEEE!!”

  After that, the blubbing kind of overtook the shouting. The shopkeeper could do nothing other than stare, which I found pretty surprising, considering that for a shop with blow-up dolphins on a rack outside, Jade absolutely couldn’t have been the first bratty customer of the summer.