Apple and Rain

by Sarah Crossan

  ‘Maybe,’ he says. ‘You go.’

  I run awkwardly along the soft sand towards the figure. The closer I get, the less convinced I am that it’s Rain. Adults can resemble children from a distance. But then I am on her, and when she turns, her thin face drawn and tired, I can’t do anything except fall on my knees in front of her and cry.

  ‘Apple?’ Small fingers comb my hair.

  ‘Rain, it’s you,’ I say. I stand and wrap my arms around her, squeezing her so tight I almost take Jenny’s head off. I kiss the top of her head – her chaotic red curls.

  ‘I was about to come home. I did earlier but you weren’t there. I thought you’d gone to school,’ she says.

  ‘School? I was looking for you all day. Didn’t you see my note?’

  ‘What note?’

  ‘Rain, the police are about to start their official search any minute. I thought something awful had happened.’ But it hasn’t. Rain is safe. My little sister, who I realise I love more than I even knew I could, is safe.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ she says.

  ‘No, Rain, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said what I said about Jenny or hurt her like I did. It was cruel.’

  Rain stares at Jenny, and gently, I take the doll from the carrier and hand her over. Rain takes Jenny from me and kisses her.

  ‘Thank you for taking care of her for me. But I don’t think she’s real, is she?’ she says.

  ‘It doesn’t matter what I think. It only matters that you’re happy.’

  ‘I’m not,’ Rain says. ‘I’m really not.’

  The waves break and the surf tips the toes of my trainers. ‘No,’ I say. ‘Neither am I.’

  ‘And I’m hungry,’ she says. She grins. And I do too. Because I have my sister back.

  And she’s hungry.

  46

  Before I manage to get my key into the lock, Nana opens the front door. She is leaning on her crutches. When she sees Rain, she gasps. ‘Thank the Lord,’ she says. She crosses herself and prays at the ceiling for several seconds. ‘Go on into the kitchen. I’ll call the station and tell the police we’ve found her,’ she says. Then she turns away and hobbles into the sitting room. I think she doesn’t want anyone to witness her crying.

  Del and Rain sit on kitchen chairs. I open Nana’s fridge. It’s full of vegetables and eggs and meat wrapped in waxy paper. ‘What would madam like to eat?’ I ask Rain.

  She rubs her tummy. ‘A roast dinner please.’

  ‘A roast? Seriously?’ I peer into the fridge again. ‘Well, I suppose I could try.’ I finger a joint of uncooked pork.

  ‘If you’re having a roast, I’ll stay for dinner,’ Del says.

  ‘Of course.’ Nana hops into the kitchen and falls into a chair. ‘Give me over the bag of spuds and I’ll peel them.’

  ‘I’ll do the other veggies,’ Del says.

  ‘What can I do?’ Rain asks.

  I plop the potatoes in front of Nana. ‘Help Nana with these,’ I tell Rain. I hand her a peeler. Nana gets a sharp knife for the job, which she always uses anyway, and I start on the meat, Nana giving directions from the chair.

  And together we cook a roast.

  ‘That was the best dinner I’ve had since I was at the Ritz,’ Del says, putting the last Brussels sprout into his mouth.

  ‘What’s for dessert?’ Rain wants to know.

  ‘Well, I’ve ice cream in the freezer or we could have caramelised apples,’ Nana says.

  ‘Both?’ Rain asks.

  Nana points to the fruit bowl by the hob. ‘Pass us a few Granny Smiths,’ she says.

  And we have caramelised apples with chocolate ice cream.

  My favourite.

  When it’s almost time for bed, I walk Del to the break in the fence between our gardens. We slide through to his side and sit on a log.

  ‘Thank you,’ I say.

  He holds my hand and shifts closer so our legs are touching. ‘Are you going to move back in with your nan?’

  I shrug. ‘I don’t know. Probably. If she lets me.’

  ‘She’ll let you . . . And then I can use my binoculars to spy on you. Maybe I’ll see your bum.’

  ‘That’s a bit dodgy,’ I say.

  ‘Yeah. You know I saw Mrs Humphreys without any knickers on? I almost fainted.’

  ‘No! Ew! When?’

  ‘A couple of weeks ago. Worst bit about it was that I didn’t notice for ages because she was wearing a blouse and watching the TV then suddenly I looked down and . . .’ He slaps his hands against his cheeks and screams.

  I laugh. ‘If I move back in with Nana, you have to give me your binoculars.’

  ‘Listen, Apple, if you want to see me without my knickers on, you only have to ask.’

  I laugh again and so does Del and then we’re gazing at each other quietly and sort of intensely and before either of us can say or do anything to spoil it, I lean forward and kiss him.

  At first it’s a gentle lip kiss. But the pecking gets longer. Our lips part, and I taste the mints Nana left on the table after dinner, which Del couldn’t resist. I close my eyes and Del’s fingers are in my hair and my fingers are creeping beneath his coat. Our breathing gets shorter. My heart pummels my ribs.

  And then Nana’s voice calls out. ‘Apple. Apple?’

  It’s hard to stop kissing but we manage to pull ourselves apart. We smile shyly.

  ‘Talk about timing,’ Del says.

  ‘She worries,’ I say.

  ‘Well, you should go then.’ He kisses me quickly. ‘Just try not to think of my hot body all night or you’ll never sleep.’

  ‘I’ll try,’ I say, and crawl back through to my own garden.

  I gaze at the sky. The moon is still a gleaming white dish and the stars twinkle.

  I smile. Everything looks exactly as it should.

  By the time I make it inside, Rain is upstairs in Nana’s bed with Jenny. Nana is trying to make herself comfortable on the couch.

  ‘You can wake me up if you need to pee in the night. I can help you up the stairs,’ I tell her.

  ‘Not at all,’ Nana says, turning off the TV. ‘But if you could run up like a good girl and get me a nightie and the Bible from my bedside cabinet, I’ll be grand. Your room is exactly as you left it, except I tidied up your desk a bit.’

  ‘Thanks, Nana,’ I say. I perch on the edge of the couch.

  ‘Mum never showed up,’ I say.

  ‘I was about to tell you that she called when you were in the garden to see if we’d found Rain. She’s back at the flat. I told her not to come over, that we didn’t need her here now. We’ll see her in the morning.’ Nana’s voice is hard and unforgiving. ‘And your father called too. He wants to come over at the weekend. I told him to call your mobile.’

  ‘OK,’ I say.

  Nana smiles.

  ‘Nana . . . why do you hate Mum so much? I mean, she’s your daughter. Didn’t you miss her when she was away?’

  Nana studies her wrinkled hands. ‘Of course I did.’

  ‘She says you threw her out.’

  ‘I was always strict with her and she hated me for it. I didn’t want her smoking or drinking around you, but she was young and she couldn’t live with my rules. I didn’t throw her out though. She had to go. She had to escape.’

  ‘Why? Was I that bad?’

  Nana pats my knee. ‘Annie was very sad when she left. She wasn’t thinking clearly. But I thought she’d come back. She promised she would. Then year after year went by and no sign of her. It broke my heart not to see my own child. And it broke my heart to see you pine for her.’

  ‘But she kept her promise. She came back. You never gave her a chance.’

  Nana nods. ‘I suppose I was . . . jealous. Annie gave you to me to mind and then when she got bored with her high life, she snatched you away again. I thought you were mine, but you aren’t. You’re her daughter, and I shouldn’t have forgotten that.’

  I sigh. ‘Why do I have to be anyone’s? Can’t I belong to myself
?’

  Nana rubs my cheek with her dry fingers. ‘You’ve grown up, Apple. When did that happen?’

  ‘Does that mean you’ll trust me to walk to school on my own?’

  ‘You’re moving back in?’ Nana’s face is like Christmas lights that have been switched on after a whole year in a box.

  ‘I think Mum needs some time to focus on her acting, so I could come back for a while,’ I say.

  ‘Whatever you want, Apple,’ Nana says.

  I throw my arms around her and hug her so tight, I ache.

  47

  Mum shows up at seven thirty with my uniform in a carrier bag and a bunch of orange roses for Nana.

  ‘I know a sorry won’t fix anything, but for what it’s worth, I am sorry, Apple,’ she says. Her face is drained of colour.

  ‘I thought you were dead. And then I thought Rain was dead. And then I thought Nana was dead. It’s been a crappy few days,’ I say.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ Mum says again.

  I lead her into the kitchen. Nana is making breakfast even though she should be resting. Sausages and bacon wheeze and burp in the pan.

  ‘Hello, Annie,’ Nana says.

  ‘I’ve made an appointment with a doctor for later this afternoon to have Rain checked over and also to talk to her about the doll,’ Mum says.

  ‘You say more than your prayers, Annie Kelly,’ Nana says, which means she doesn’t believe her.

  ‘Did you get a part in the film?’ I ask Mum.

  ‘No, I didn’t.’ Mum puts down the flowers and the bag carrying my uniform, and leans against the sideboard. ‘I want to be a better mother,’ she says.

  Nana sits on a kitchen chair. ‘Apple, could you give us a minute?’ she asks.

  I know the drill. I go upstairs and Derry trails after me. We dive underneath the covers and I close my eyes, expecting to hear shouts and roars and maybe a pan being thrown, but it’s silent. I can only hear Derry snuffling.

  ‘Maybe they’re making up, making up, never ever, ever breaking up,’ I say aloud.

  ‘What are you talking about?’ It’s Rain.

  I throw back the covers and edge over in the bed. Rain climbs in. When she feels Derry writhing at her feet, she squeals.

  ‘Silly dog,’ she says.

  ‘Where’s Jenny?’ I ask.

  Rain ruffles Derry’s hair. ‘She’s in bed. She doesn’t need me all the time.’

  ‘Really?’ I ask hesitantly.

  Rain shakes her head. ‘I don’t think so. Do you?’

  I smile. ‘No,’ I say. Maybe she isn’t able to let go of Jenny yet, but it’s a start.

  Rain lies back in the bed and Derry licks her face until she squawks. She pulls the covers over her head. ‘Is Mom downstairs?’ she asks, her voice muffled.

  ‘Yeah. I think her and Nana are having a serious talk.’

  ‘What are they saying?’

  ‘I don’t know. Let’s invent something. I’ll be Nana.’

  Nana/Me: Where have you been the last two days?

  Mum/Rain: I was at Buckingham Palace. The Queen threatened to chop off my head if I left.

  Nana/Me: Doesn’t Her Majesty have a phone?

  Mum/Rain: She kept me chained up in a dark tower.

  Nana/Me: Oh, Annie, that’s awful. Come here and let me give you a hug.

  Mum/Rain: I’m sorry I got everybody so worried.

  Nana/Me: And I’m sorry I thought the worst. Do you want some tea?

  Mum/Rain: Have you got any wine?

  We giggle.

  ‘You should go down and see Mum,’ I say.

  Rain puts her arms around my waist. ‘I want to live wherever you’re living,’ she says.

  Before I can respond, someone is knocking on my door. Derry barks then Mum appears. She looks even sadder than she did when she arrived.

  ‘Hi, girls,’ Mum says.

  She sits on the bed. She takes one of my hands and one of Rain’s. ‘I think a family meeting is overdue.’ She squeezes my hand. ‘Would you give me a second second chance, Apple?’

  ‘Can I think about it?’ I ask. It’s too soon after everything to know what to do for the best.

  ‘Of course,’ Mum says. She inches closer to Rain. ‘And what about you? Will you forgive me?’

  ‘What for?’ Rain replies.

  ‘For everything, Rain.’

  I scoot out of the room. Before I showed up, it was just Mum and Rain, like it had always been Nana and me, and maybe it’s OK for it to be like that again sometimes.

  Nana is piling fried food on to four plates. I make her sit down and I finish scrambling the eggs, then set the table and dish baked beans and mushrooms on to the plates. It smells delicious. Without waiting for Mum or Rain to come down, I dive in. It’s the first hot breakfast I’ve had in weeks. It tastes so good.

  ‘Nana, what’s going to happen with Rain? Can she live here?’ I ask.

  Nana nods. ‘I’ve offered for them both to stay here until Annie finds her feet. She said she’ll think about it.’

  ‘She’s not going back to America?’ I ask. It was my biggest fear. That I would betray Mum and lose her again. But lose her for ever.

  ‘I don’t think she wants to go anywhere at the moment. I think we’re all going to take a break from making decisions for now,’ Nana says.

  My phone beeps: Walk to school with me? I’ll let you touch my binoculars ;)

  I smile and message Del back: Can u leave now? I have to go 2 the computer lab 2 finish off sum hmwk.

  I wriggle into my uniform, call a goodbye up the stairs to Mum and Rain, and kiss Nana’s cheek.

  ‘Don’t build a boat or anything while I’m at school,’ I tell her. ‘Rest.’

  ‘Aye, aye, captain,’ Nana says. ‘You’re sure you’ll be safe walking to school?’

  I could roll my eyes or tut or stomp off in a rage. I don’t because Nana’s just trying to protect me. She doesn’t want me getting kidnapped.

  ‘I’ll text you when I get there,’ I promise, and skip out of the door.

  48

  Del sits next to me in the computer room, caressing my neck and kissing my face and generally distracting me from my homework. I’m trying to get Mr Gaydon’s assignment typed up before the bell goes.

  For the second time, I don’t bother writing a fake back-up. I just write the truth, every word of it, and print it out ready to hand in.

  ‘What have you loved?’ I ask Del as we leave the computer room.

  He scratches his chin. ‘Do you have to ask?’ He flutters his eyelashes.

  ‘You’re so cheesy,’ I say.

  He bows. ‘I aim to cheese.’ He reaches into his mermaid bag. ‘Actually, that reminds me. I got you something.’ He pulls out a small bar of Toblerone. ‘For you,’ he says.

  Del and I walk hand in hand, heads in the air, into registration. Everyone gapes; no one even expected to see me back in school again, let alone holding hands with a boy.

  Pilar and Donna are sitting at the back. Donna is admiring herself in a hand mirror and patting her nose with powder. Pilar is reading a tattered paperback. When Del and I take the desk next to them, Pilar looks up amazed and gives me a wary half-smile, like she isn’t sure whether she should be acknowledging my existence or not. I don’t wait to see what Donna’s reaction is. I don’t want to know.

  Mrs Wilkins takes the register and on my way out asks to see me. ‘You’re back again, Apple,’ she says, haphazardly stacking a pile of books under her arm.

  ‘Yes, miss,’ I say.

  ‘Well, that’s good news. Doctor Dillon was under the impression we were going to have to involve . . .’ Mrs Wilkins sees Del at my side and changes her mind about whatever it was she was going to say. ‘OK, get to class. We can talk another time.’

  On the way to English, Del and I run into Egan Winters in the corridor. He’s talking loudly into his phone.

  ‘All right, mate,’ Del says.

  Egan sees us and hangs up. ‘Ugh. My brother winds me up. Bu
t that’s what brothers do, I suppose.’

  ‘And sisters,’ I say.

  ‘Del told me you found Rain,’ Egan says.

  ‘Yeah. And my mum.’

  Egan nods. ‘I gotta run to a lesson. But I’m glad everything’s worked out,’ he says. He hesitates then gives me a quick hug. He high-fives Del. And he rushes off.

  Someone taps my shoulder. I turn. It’s Donna Taylor. And Pilar.

  ‘You’re friends with Egan Winters?’ Donna asks.

  I sniff like it’s no big deal. I know it is. In our school, it’s a very big deal.

  Donna pokes me. ‘So, will you introduce me to him?’

  ‘Egan? Don’t you think he’s a bit weird?’ Del says. Del still doesn’t know what’s happened between Egan and me. He wouldn’t understand. And even if he did, he doesn’t need to know.

  ‘Weird?’ Donna says. She smirks. ‘Uh, no. I think you’ll find that you’re the weirdo, and Egan Winters is perfect.’

  ‘Del isn’t weird,’ I say.

  Donna laughs so loudly it seems like a kind of perform­ance. ‘Isn’t he?’

  I was so happy to be coming back to school, I forgot about how truly nasty Donna could be. And I didn’t expect her to start having a go at me straight away. Couldn’t she have given me a day to settle back in? Would that have been too much to ask?

  ‘No, he isn’t weird,’ I repeat. My voice wobbles. I take Del’s hand.

  Donna laughs harder. ‘Anyway, Crab Apple, you and your boyfriend make a lovely couple,’ she says. She links arms with Pilar who is staring at us.

  My insides tighten. I’m not sure why Donna does this to me, but what I do know is that if I don’t stand up to her now, I’ll be putting up with her nastiness all year, maybe next year and the year after that too. So I hold my breath and take a step towards her. She quits laughing, coughs, and pulls Pilar closer.

  ‘Got something to say?’ She sneers.

  ‘The thing is, Donna, I actually couldn’t give a crap what you think because you’re just a spiteful cow. So, why don’t you pick on someone who cares?’ I say. I breathe hard and wait for Donna to slap me or to say something crushing.