Rain In My Heart

by Kara Karnatzki

  'It’s okay,' he said. 'You'd be surprised how sturdy this building is. I’ve looked into it. Apparently, it won a load of architecture awards.'

  'Let’s hope so,' I whispered.

  Leon, Greg and Gemma started discussing the possibility of re-attempting to reach Curtis’s car.

  ‘If we can get some sort of guide rope,’ said Leon, 'it’ll give us stability against the current. My brother taught me how to use one. He's an expert climber.'

  ‘It would have to be pretty strong to take all our weight,’said Greg.

  ‘Shouldn’t we just wait?’I suggested.

  ‘Wait?’said Gemma.‘While the windows cave in around us? Not to mention the fact that we might be waiting forever. We haven’t managed to contact anyone. The weather looks like its getting worse. And as for the floodwater, well, we can all see it’s getting deeper. If we don't go now - '

  ‘We'll be stuck,’said Byron, finishing Gemma's sentence.

  She turned and glared at him.

  'Probably hasn't even reached peak flow yet,' he said. 'I mean, when a river breaches its banks this badly the torrent rages for hours, days even. Add to this, the fact that the rain is still bucketing down, adding more volume to the overloaded drainage system…all I'm saying is, if I were you, I’d start getting ready for an all-nighter.’

  Gemma snarled and muttered something about no one asking for Byron’s opinion. I thought of his comment: the lonerdoesn’t count.

  Moments later, however, Byron’s observation was proved right. We were stalled by the sight of the‘Shaggin’ Wagon’lifting up with the current, spinning ninety degrees, then drifting sideways into a street lamp.

  ‘My car!’said Curtis, jumping up, mouth agape, just as the vehicle flipped and wooshed away.

  ‘Well, that’s it then,’said Greg. ‘Nowwe’re stuffed.’

  'No!' cried Gemma. ‘We needed that car! I have to go. I have to go home.'

  Leon frowned. He looked crushed. The sparkle in his eyes temporarily deadened.

  'Don’t worry, Gem,’he said.‘I'll just have to come up with a Plan B. We'll get out eventually.'

  'But you don't understand. Eventually isn't good enough. I need to go NOW!'

  She seemed enraged, more firey than I'd ever seen her. I tried to comfort her, but she was rigid with anger. She even swiped Greg away.

  'What's the matter, babe?' he begged.

  She looked at him, then me. She opened her mouth, hesitated, closed it, sighed. It was like she didn't know what to say.

  'Are you worried about what's happened to everyone?' I said, trying to prompt her.

  'It's Rascal,' she said, bursting into tears. 'My mum's not home. She's gone away for the weekend, to meet some guy she met on the Internet. Rascal's shut in the kitchen. He won’t be able to get out. He can’t swim. Don't you see? I haveto get to him. It's up to me.’

  Greg and I glanced at each other. Rascal was Gemma's mum’s pet Boxer. She’d never shown much affection for him before, always moaned when she was made to take him for walks or sort out his food. But I guess the flood was making her realise what mattered. I held her hands and Greg smothered her with hugs. Leon and Curtis exchanged embarrassed shrugs. They weren’t used to seeing hard-nosed Gemma upset. Byron, meanwhile, wandered to the back of the room. He made no effort to disguise the fact that he found the sound of Gemma’s snivelling irritating. He stuck his fingers in his ears and started humming. It was callous - but then again,Gemma hadn’t exactly been his cheering party. Maybe he felt justified. Either way, I found him baffling.

  I did the only helpful thing I could think of and took out my phone.

  'Let me try getting through again,’I said, my voice shaking. ‘If I do, I'll ask about Rascal. I'll get someone to check on him. It'll all be fine, I promise.'

  Chapter Ten

  They said they were going to the Hurst Centre. They were meeting Max and Elaine for lunch, then they were going shopping. New shoes for my dad. He was always useless at buying stuff for himself, especially shoes. A family joke: he tried, but never quite got it right. Like the time he needed pyjamas, then came home with three Hawaiian shirts and a Fedora hat. It wouldn’t have been so bad, except none of the Hawaiian shirts fitted (aside from being hideous) and our cat took issue with the Fedora.

  My dad, my lovely dad. It broke my heart that I couldn’t get through to him. Or my mum. Or my sister, Ella. Where were they? I tried their numbers over and over. Gemma's crying got louder. The sound started to stress meout. In the end, I had to follow Byron’s lead and go to the other side of the room, just so I could concentrate. I stood at the sinks, beside the broken window - a small pool had formed where the rain was getting in - and carried on dialling, listening, dialling.

  Eventually Leon came over, still in his boxers, even though his jeans were pretty much dry. The fact that I was madly in love with him, that an hour ago I’d felt giddy because he’d smiled at me–all of that seemed a million miles away.

  ‘You getting anywhere?’he said, nodding at my phone.

  ‘No. You?’

  He shook his head.

  'They look painful,' I said, pointing to his bruises.

  He covered them up with hands, like he was embarrassed.

  'They're nothing,' he said. ‘Hey, your hair's nearly dry - '

  'Thanks.'

  ‘I meant to say earlier, I liked the way you’d straightened it, before you went for an unwanted swim, I mean.’

  So he had noticed!

  I smiled, felt the heat rise in my cheeks. To hear him say this, it felt fantastic - not just because it was a compliment from him, but because it took me back to myself, back to my normal, everyday worries and hopes.

  ‘Thanks,’I whispered, running a hand down the length of my hair. 'Not so sleek now, though.’

  ‘Still looks nice,’he said, his eyes twinkling.

  ‘Are you always so flattering?’

  ‘Only during floods.’

  We both giggled.

  Then my phone flashed.

  BEEP BEEP BEEP

  The sound shattered the tension. Everyone jumped. I nearly dropped the handset. I fumbled and caught it. The screen scrolled a familiar number.

  ‘Mum?'

  ‘Kate!’

  ‘Mum? Are you okay?’

  ‘Kate!’she repeated. ‘Tell me you're safe! Where are you? Promise me you’re safe? I've been ringing and ringing, but someone said the phone masts were damaged - '

  ‘I’m okay. We’re okay. But we’re stuck.’

  ‘In the school?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Whereabouts?’

  ‘We’re in the art room, at the top. The water hasn’t reached us, but it’s all around us. We're trapped - '

  ‘Who’s with you?’

  ‘Gemma, Greg, Leon, Curtis…and some guy called Byron.’

  ‘Is your teacher there?’

  My heart sank.

  ‘No. She went off. We don’t what’s happened to her. She went off to get some paint and stuff. She left just before...'

  From the corner of my eye, I noticed everyone had gathered around me. They were all watching, listening, like somehow I was the chosen one, that maybe my mum on the end of the phone would have all the answers. With the wobble in her voice, I doubted it. When sensible parents have wobbly voices, you know there’s a problem.

  ‘Kate, it's not looking good. People are saying we've had a flash flood, but no one knows for sure. Apparently some minor flooding was predicted, but nothing on this scale. It's a disaster. Everything’s a mess. And,' - she paused - 'and I'm afraid there's a problem with your dad.'

  As soon as she said this, my blood ran cold.

  ‘What?’ I said, my stomach sickening. ‘What problem?’

  ‘We were in the Hurst Centre. We were queuing for coffee. We were standing in line, then suddenly it hit and we were running from a wall of water. There was nothing we could do -’

  I could hear her sucking her breath, to hide that fact th
at she was about to cry.

  ‘I’m afraid your dad got knocked over. I think he caught his leg ona bench. One minute, he was beside me, then the next -’

  ‘Is he okay? Can I talk to him?’

  She paused. Her silence lasted too long.

  ‘Mum?’

  ‘We–we haven’t managed to find him yet, Kate. I’m sorry. He's missing.’

  I couldn’t take it. My chest started to feel light and gaspy. It seemed crazy that my mum was only a few miles from me, yet it was like she was on another planet.

  ‘What about Ella?’I asked.

  Ella, my sister, had been planning to get a manicure in the nail bar on the Parade. Whether she’d actually woken up for it, I didn’t know. She’d been snoring in bed when I’d left that morning.

  ‘She hasn’t answered her phone. Listen Kate, if you and your friends are safe where you are,then you need to stay put. Do you understand? As soon as I can get hold of someone official, we’re going to sort out your rescue. I will find someone. Whatever it takes. In the mean time, don’tgo in the water. Promise me, Kate, you won’t go in the water.’

  I stared through the window. Sky black. The flood had now reached the first floor windows of the main school building. There was no sign of Curtis’s car. You couldn’t even tell there was a car park.

  ‘I promise,’I sniffed.

  ‘Right,’said Mum, the way she always did when she was being efficient, putting on a brave face. ‘Right. I’m going to track down your sister. And I’m going to find your dad. Stay by your phone. And be careful. Please, please, pleasebe careful.’

  I didn’t want her to go. The end-call silence seemed to last forever, but before I had a chance to collect my thoughts, Gemma squared up to me.

  ‘You didn’t ask about myhouse!’she said abruptly.‘What about Rascal?’

  I scrunched my eyes, took a breath. I understood that Gemma was worried about Rascal, but I had problems of my own. I didn’t need to feel like I’d let her down as well.

  ‘I’m sorry,’I said, dazed. ‘I’m sorry, Gem. It’s just...my dad…my sister... everything…I just forgot about Rascal, all right.’

  By the look on her face, she wasn’t willing to see things from my side.

  ‘Thanks for nothing,’she hissed, wiping the mascara from her cheeks.

  ‘It's only a dog,’muttered Byron.

  I glanced at him, but he looked away, acted like he hadn't said anything.

  The next phone to ring was Leon’s. I couldn't hear the full conversation, but by the sound of it, his brother was giving him a pep talk, advising him to 'man-up' and organise the rest of us. His parents called next. They were safe, but they were trapped in a garden centre. A wooden bench had crashed right through the windscreen of their SUV. People were clinging to trees for safety. Someone was trying to make a boat out of a wheelbarrow. Leon’s mum gave the same advice my mum did, to stay where we were, high and dry.

  It was good for each of us to speak to someone. Curtis's dad rang to grumble that his armchair was wrecked and that the television remote had floated into the neighbour’s garden - which said a lot about Curtis; the fact that his dad was more concerned about whether he could still watch Match of the Day, than whether his son was safe.

  Gemma’s battery died, but she borrowed my phone and called home. There was no reply, so she spoke to her cousin–the only other person whose number she could remember. Unfortunately,the cousin was busy bailing water out of her kitchen and knew nothing about what was going on at Gemma’s house. Meanwhile, Greg got a call from his Nan, who told him to watch out for rats and raw sewage, until she was cut-off by his dead battery.

  The oneperson who didn’t get a call was Byron. And it got me wondering. What was his family like? Who were they? They obviously weren't too concerned about him, because his phone didn’t ring once. Which was kind of crap.

  Chapter Eleven

  With the exception ofByron, it felt like everyone else’s family were okay except mine. I know it sounds silly, but it felt unfair, like I was being picked on. Leon tried to reassure me. He said he’d watched loads of real-life rescue programmes and that people always get found or saved in the end. He said he’d keep his fingers crossed. But to be honest, I was hurting too much to take notice. I was torn between pestering my mum for updates or saving my battery and waiting for her to call me. Weirdly, the one person who seemed to 'get' my state of mind was Byron.

  ‘Keep busy,’he said, like he could tell I was worrying myself into a mess.

  He was right. I needed distraction. I needed to do something productive. I decided to carry on with the mural. I took a tin of pencils and started drawing along the back wall. I threw myself into the task, focused hard. When I was done, I stood up and realised Byron had been standing behind me the whole time, with his headphones.

  I smiled, but he didn’t react.

  ‘What are you listening to?’I asked, out of politeness.

  He took the headphones off and handed them to me. I placed one of the speakers over my ear. It was beep-beep plink-plink - some kind of obscure electro trance.

  ‘It’s different,’I said, giving the headphones back.

  ‘It’s what I like,’he replied. ‘Music made by machines. Nothingsentimental. You’ll hear about your dad and sistersoon, I’m sure. But, you know, I think your so-called best friend could have been more considerate. She was very rude to you, wasn’t she?’

  I blinked, disarmed by his bluntness.

  ‘You mean Gemma?’

  ‘Bit of a one-way street? You give, she takes.’

  ‘Um -’

  ‘She’s selfish. When she gets upset, you cuddle her. When you're upset, she goes off into a cupboard with her giant boyfriend - '

  I looked around. Sure enough, Greg and Gemma were nowhere to be seen, but a bright glow was coming from the entrance to the supply cupboard.

  ‘She’s okay,’I argued, feeling like I should defend her. ‘She’s just...she’s going through something. Her parents split up. It really messed with her head.’

  ‘Yes, I knowthat.’

  ‘You do?’

  ‘The whole town knows. Mr Dyce’s seedy chip-shop-lady love affair. Very embarrassing for all concerned. But it doesn’t mean Gemma has to be hateful towardseveryone else, does it? You of all people, because you’re always so nice to her.’

  ‘That's a bit harsh. Gemma isn’t hateful towards me. We have our ups and downs, but we've been best friends since primary school - '

  ‘Maybe so, but she’s got HATE in her soul.’

  It shocked me - the presumptuousness, the arrogance of his tone. Granted, it probably wasn’t much fun, being the only loner in a herd of cool kids. And someone like Gemma Dyce, with her sly glances and sarcastic cusses, made it all the more challenging. But really, who was he to say she was full of hate?

  ‘She’s fine,’I argued.‘Gemma’s fine.’

  ‘She’s insecure,’said Byron. ‘And bitter. She’s the bitterest person I’ve ever encountered–apart from every single member of my own family, of course.’

  ‘Why are you being so critical?’

  ‘Because Gemma isn’t a true friend and yet you waste all your energy on her. Don’t you see? She's a fake, a phoney. She buys a neon plastic skull necklace from Claire’s Accessories and decides this makes her a Goth. Phoney as hell. Let’s face it, a real Goth would buy their skull necklace from a seedy alleyway in Soho. In fact, a real Goth would probably suck the flesh from Gemma Dyce’s head, stick her skull on a pin, and wear that instead -’

  I gasped. And laughed. Maybe it was the outrageousness of the remark or just sheer exasperation? Either way, the laughter kept coming. I covered my mouth, tried to stop. It seemed wrong, like I was betraying my best friend. But at the same time, I felt liberated. I'd never 'got' Gemma's sudden switch to Goth style, but I'd been too polite to say anything. Before I could respond to Byron's rant, however, Leon and Curtis stormed over.

  ‘What are your headphones attached
to?’ said Curtis accusingly, jabbinga finger towards Byron’s trouser pocket.

  ‘My phone.’

  ‘Show me.’

  Reluctantly, Byron took out his handset, held it up. Curtis bulked.

  ‘You mean we’ve all been panicking about wasting battery life and you’ve had a full-charge all along?’

  Byron shrugged.

  ‘My phone, my business.’

  ‘Well, just so you know, it’s now been decided thatwe put all the phones together, so that they're accessible to everyone,’said Leon. 'Hand it over.'

  'Um, no.’

  Curtis glared at him. The awkwardness bulged.

  ‘For real? Are you deliberately being a mutant?’

  ‘Hey, I’m sure it’s just some misunderstanding,’I said, trying to smooth the way. ‘You’ll give up your phone, won’t you, Byron? In case of an emergency or something -’

  Byron looked at me, then at Leon and Curtis.

  ‘If I feel like it.’

  Thankfully, the stand-off was disturbed by Greg. He’d been tinkering with Miss Nevis’s computer, trying to get through the security pass codes, to gain Internet access.

  ‘I’ve done it! I’m online!’he announced.

  The confrontation was abandoned. We all rushed to the computer.

  ‘Nice one!’said Curtis.

  ‘Now we can send emails, check for information.’

  ‘Good work, mate,’said Leon.

  Gemma wrapped her arms around Greg’s shoulders. She was much calmer now. Ten minutes of cuddling Greg in a cupboard had done the trick.

  ‘You should get onto one of those news forums,’she said. ‘See if there’s anything about what’s happened.’

  Greg tapped the keyboard. Hiskeyboard now. He’d claimed ownership. Immediately, the screen came up with a news page. We listened while Greg read:

  ‘Unprecedented flash flooding in the Hurst Valley Area. Heavy rainfall has resulted in significant riverbank breach. Scenes of chaos as torrents destroy homes and shops. Reports of widespread damage and injury. Many people unaccounted for. Emergency services are starting to arrive on the scene, but the rescue effort is being hampered by deteriorating weather conditions.’