There’s a long pause, then a cautious, ‘You back on them now?’
‘Think so.’
‘Good,’ she says, like it’s an order.
‘How are things with you?’ I ask.
‘OK. Sarah’s driving me mad, though.’
‘Don’t suppose you’re free to come over?’
‘Now?’
‘Only if it suits. I’m kinda grounded.’
‘Seriously?’
‘Seriously.’
The minute we see each other, we hug. And I promise myself I’ll never hurt her again.
‘I’m sorry,’ I say, just so she’s sure.
She pulls back. ‘I presume you did the same to David?’ I look away. ‘It’s better this way.’
‘To hurt the guy you love?’
I turn back. ‘Who says I love him?’
She gives me this look. A typical Rachel, no-nonsense look. And something inside me gives. I close my eyes. ‘OK. I admit it. I love him. I love him so much, Rache.’
‘So why not trust him?’
‘I do trust him. But not life. He promised he’d never leave. And he’s gone. I can’t trust in good things happening. They never do. Not to me.’ And, after managing not to for so long, I start to cry.
She hugs me. And, for a long time, neither of us speaks.
‘Maybe you’re right,’ she says, finally. ‘I haven’t been through what you have. I’ve no clue.’
But I don’t feel right. Not anymore. ‘I’m such a mess.’
‘No you’re not.’
She doesn’t know what I’ve done. She doesn’t know about Louis. And I can’t tell her. She’d hate me. Like I hate me.
‘I found my dad in bed with The Stylist.’
‘Oh my God. When?’
‘The day David left.’
‘Oh, Alex.’
‘She’s gone back to the States.’
‘And your dad? I guess you must really hate him now?’
‘Actually, we kind of made up.’ I explain how he threw himself into work because he couldn’t face life without Mum. I explain how he loved her. And how he loves me.
‘It makes so much sense,’ she says. Then smiles. ‘I always liked your dad.’
And I have to admit, I always liked him too. Even when I didn’t want to.
But enough about me. ‘How was your work experience?’ I ask.
‘Lots of filing X-rays, so kind of boring. But I got to go up to the wards to track down X-rays too, and that bit was great. I’d have a real look around. I’d watch the doctors and what was going on in the wards. In the nurses’ stations I’d listen to discussions about patients, their illnesses and treatment. That bit was great. And the people in X-Ray were so sweet. They never asked what took me so long. They even gave me a cake when I was leaving. How about you? How was the shop?’
I shrug. There was so much going on in my life, I can’t remember a lot. But – ‘Pat was lovely. Really sweet. How did Sarah get on?’
She rolls her eyes. ‘Miss Grace had to find her something in the end. She and Simon Kelleher got placed up in UCD.’
‘Oh my God. She must have been thrilled. Just her and Simon.’
‘She’s, like, been throwing herself at him ever since. I never thought I’ve ever feel sorry for Simon Kelleher. But I kind of do.’
‘D’you think they’ll get together?’
She shrugs. ‘If he finally caves in.’
‘What does she see in him?’
‘Boyfriend potential, I guess.’
Speaking of which: ‘How’s Mark?’
She breaks into this beautiful smile.
‘That good?’ I say.
‘I think I love him.’ She grimaces.
I hug her. Because if anyone deserves love, it’s Rache.
We’re dropping Rachel home when my phone rings.
‘Hey!’ Oh, God. It’s Louis. ‘Can I call you straight back?’ I kill the line. Luckily, we’re just pulling up outside Rachel’s.
‘So, see you Monday,’ she says, hugging me.
I smile. ‘Monday.’
I wait till I’m home to call him back. ‘How did you get my number?’
‘And hello to you, too.’
‘Seriously, Louis. I asked you not to tell Sarah.’
‘I just asked for a number. Could have meant anything.’
‘If Sarah wasn’t Sarah.’
‘Where were you, today?’
‘Oh. Sorry. I couldn’t make it.’
‘We on for tomorrow?’
I have to think. ‘Louis. There’s a lot going on right now.’ All of it in my head. ‘Can I call you?’
‘Sure,’ he says, as chilled as always. And that’s the great thing about him. He just doesn’t care.
In the morning, my father’s still wearing his blackout shades and pretending everything’s fine. It’s easier this way. For both of us.
‘How’s the back?’
‘Pain in the butt. Literally.’
‘Did you try lying on your side with a pillow between your legs?’
He nods. ‘It did give me some relief.’
‘Some relief?’
‘It’s a start, believe me.’ Then he smiles. ‘Last night, I was lying there trying to get comfortable, and I had this flashback to when Mum was pregnant with you. That’s the way she’d be, pillow between her legs, moving around, trying to get comfortable.’
‘She slept like that?’
‘For the last month or two.’
I think about that, the three of us snuggled up together, me there, but not yet.
‘It was a great time,’ he says, his face softening, ‘maybe even the best, everything ahead of us, you to look forward to.’ His expression changes. ‘Seems so long ago.’ It’s a whisper. He clears his throat.
I don’t think, just reach out and squeeze his hand. ‘I’m still here.’
He takes off the glasses. ‘And I’m sorry for not appreciating that until it was too late. For ignoring you till I lost you.’
I look him in the eye. ‘You haven’t lost me.’
Saturday, I call to my gran, feeling like Little Red Riding Hood bringing cake to her gran. Dad made her a carrot cake.
‘Your father made that?’
‘He’s OK, Gran. He’s sorry.’ I tell her everything.
She looks at me. ‘Maybe I’ll have some of that carrot cake, after all,’ she says. She cuts herself a huge wedge, like she’s feeling guilty for being so hard on him.
‘Tell him I loved it.’
‘Maybe you should eat some first.’
‘Tell him anyway.’
I smile. ‘OK.’
For a while, we just chill, sipping tea and eating cake.
Then she asks, ‘So, how’s David getting on in San Diego?’
I try to hedge by giving a little shrug.
‘What’s that supposed to mean?’
‘Nothing. We’re just not in touch.’
She puts down her fork. ‘What? Why not?’
‘It’s easier.’
‘Easier?’ She sounds dubious.
‘We can get on with our lives.’
Now she’s squinting at me. ‘Whose idea was this?’
I shrug again, poke at the cake.
‘David wanted to stay in touch, didn’t he?’ she asks. And when I don’t answer, she adds, ‘He did. Didn’t he?’
‘OK, yeah, he did. But what’s the point? It was going to end anyway, sooner or later.’
‘How do you know that?’
‘Because everything does.’
She looks at me. ‘Not true,’ she says, gently. ‘I still have you, haven’t I?’
I force a smile.
‘You know, you could have just played it by ear –’ she starts again.
‘Gran! Playing it by ear is something you do when you don’t care either way. Then, when it doesn’t work out, you’re not flattened.’
‘You love him, don’t you?’
I look away.
&n
bsp; ‘Then don’t give up on him.’
‘Too late.’
She comes over and sits beside me. ‘Alex. Bad things happen, but you have to trust that good things do too.’
I don’t have to trust anything.
‘That boy loved you . . . But you know that, don’t you?’
I shrug.
‘Did you tell him you love him?’
‘Who says I do?’
‘This is your gran you’re talking to. Now, answer the question.’
‘No, I didn’t tell him.’
She sighs deeply. ‘What am I going to do with you?’ But then she smiles, and it’s like, no matter what I do, she’ll go on loving me. ‘Come here,’ she says. I move closer, and she hugs me. ‘You’re a chip off the old block, you know that?’ I’m used to people comparing me to mum. But then she says, ‘Just like your dad.’
I look at her, totally shocked. I’m not like my dad at all.
‘So afraid of being hurt you run from people.’ I stare at her as I start to get it.
She looks at me. ‘You miss David, don’t you? You just won’t let yourself admit it.’
I look down.
‘Be honest with yourself, Alex. No matter how scary it is. Because if you can’t be honest with yourself, life gets very confusing.’
I stare at her. She knows, I think. She knows about Louis. But how can she?
Maybe she just knows what she’s talking about.
THIRTY-ONE | HOW OK?
Monday morning, and I’m on the DART with Rachel.
‘Here comes Sarah,’ she says. ‘Be prepared. She’s kind of upset about the communication blackout.’
Sarah doesn’t smile. She just sits beside Rachel and looks across at me like she has a problem.
‘I’m sorry,’ I say before she can speak. ‘For not returning your calls.’
‘And texts. And emails.’
‘Sorry. I just got a bit down over Christmas.’
‘That’s what friends are for.’ She holds my eyes, making her point.
‘I know. I’m sorry.’ I blow out a breath.
‘It’s OK,’ she says suddenly, lightly. Like, apology accepted, let’s move on. And that’s what I love about her. Instant forgiveness. ‘What did you get for Christmas?’ she asks me.
‘Oh God. I forgot about my presents.’
‘What?’
I shrug. ‘I put them away. Then forgot about them.’
She looks at me as if to say, ‘How’s that possible?’
‘Wow. You really must have been down,’ she says. She thinks for a moment, then instructs: ‘OK. Open them tonight and let us know.’
I smile. ‘OK.’
We reach the school. In the corridor, we meet Mark. I haven’t seen him since before Christmas. And he must have forgotten I exist because when he says, ‘Hey,’ he looks only at Rachel and Sarah. I’m kind of surprised but not bothered. We all walk together towards the class.
‘Yo, Mark!’ Simon calls. And Mark stops to talk to him. The rest of us carry on. It’s almost nine when we reach the classroom, so we just go to our desks. Sitting at mine, my heart plummets. Last time I sat here, my favourite view was the back of David’s head. Now, I look over at his empty desk, knowing he won’t be in, won’t be throwing his bag down, won’t be taking his place, glancing back and smiling. I feel the ache starting. But this time, I don’t try to stop it. Just let it come. Then Simon flops into David’s seat, slips off his shoes and puts his feet up against the radiator. I have to stop myself throwing my pencil case at the back of his head. Mark passes my desk. And totally blanks me. That’s the second time! I look at Rachel to see if she’s noticed, but she’s rooting in her bag. I glance back at Mark. Who looks away. Oh my God!
Class starts. There’s talk of a trip to Uganda to help children there. I know nothing about Uganda. And I guess I should. So I listen.
At break, I follow Rachel to the loo.
‘What’s wrong with Mark?’ I ask as she washes her hands. ‘Did I do something to him?’
Our eyes meet in the giant mirror over the sinks. She looks embarrassed.
‘Don’t mind him. He’s just being stupid.’ She turns off the tap and goes to dry her hands.
I follow. ‘So there is something.’
She turns. ‘He just thinks he’s being loyal to David.’ She rolls her eyes at that.
‘What d’you mean?’
‘The way it ended between you.’
Finally, I get it. ‘You mean the way I ended it?’
‘Alex, I know how hard it was for you after losing your mum. I tried to explain that to Mark but he just sees it from David’s point of view.’
‘Which is?’
She shrugs. ‘He lost his mum too. And you walked out on him.’
And that’s it, right there: the truth. Like a wall of sound coming at me.
‘Look, Alex. This is none of his business. Don’t worry about it, OK? You know guys. Tomorrow he’ll have forgotten about it. Seriously.’
‘No. He’s right. He’s absolutely right. David lost his mum, too. And I shut him out. Like my father shut me out. I knew what that was like and I still did it to him. He’d never have done that to me.’ And he’d never have gone off with someone else, the way I did.
‘David’ll be fine,’ Rachel says.
‘No. I was horrible to him. He told me he loved me, and I threw it back in his face. The things I said.’
‘You were trying to protect yourself.’
And him. But. ‘You don’t know what I said.’
‘I do. Mark told me.’
I look at her. ‘I never meant to hurt him, Rache. I just wanted to cut out all that pain. But I’m so sorry for everything I said to him.’
‘Then tell him.’
‘How can I when I’m sorry for hurting him but not for ending it?’
‘You’re not sorry you ended it?’ She looks shocked.
‘Rachel, nothing’s changed. Life is still life. I can’t trust in it again. I won’t.’
‘I don’t know what to say.’
Amy walks into the bathroom and takes a long look at us.
‘Uh-oh, looks heavy,’ she says, smiling.
‘Let’s go,’ Rachel says.
Out on the corridor, I stop. ‘Rache.’
She stops. Turns.
I pause, so she knows what’s coming is important. ‘What you have with Mark . . . Treasure it, OK? I mean, really treasure it. Fight for it.’
She looks guilty. But nods. Then, she says, ‘You’ll meet someone else.’
‘No.’ I don’t want anyone else. David was the one. The way Dad was for Mum.
We go back to the canteen. And it’s no coincidence that Mark leaves at exactly the same time.
‘I’ll see you later,’ he says to Rachel. And is gone.
‘Where were you?’ Sarah’s asking. ‘I was about to send out a search party.’ She glances at Simon when she says this, checking for a reaction.
He has eyes only for his ham roll.
Sarah looks at me. ‘So,’ she says. ‘Why did Louis want your number?’
I blush. ‘My number?’
Rachel looks at me.
‘Yeah. Your number,’ Sarah says, staring me down.
‘How should I know?’
‘Didn’t he call you?’ She looks surprised. ‘Louis doesn’t ask for things he doesn’t want.’
‘If Louis calls, you’ll be the first to know,’ I lie. And know suddenly what I have to do.
I arrange to meet him at the Forty Foot. It seems right to end it where it started. Not that there really was an ‘it’. Louis’s not going to care. I’m like a battery to him – easily replaced.
I arrive on time. But he’s already there. He waves when he sees me and stands.
‘Hey,’ he says. He hugs me. Which is weird.
We sit side by side, looking at the sea, which is darkening as the sun sets. I wonder what words to use.
‘So,’ he says, before I can use any, ‘I
thought we could go out. On a date. A proper date.’
I stare at him.
He laughs. ‘Don’t look so shocked.’
‘Louis –’
‘It works like this. I bring you to a restaurant, nothing too fancy. I slag you a bit. You slag me back. I bring you home, we kiss goodnight –’
‘Louis. I don’t think we should go on a date.’
He looks disappointed but not surprised. ‘Even if I promise not to talk?’
I want to hug him. ‘You know I don’t want a relationship.’
‘Did someone say “relationship”?’ He looks around. ‘No. I think dinner was the proposition.’ He looks kind of adorable like this.
‘I’m kind of messed up, Louis.’
‘You’re the sanest person I know.’
‘You don’t know me.’
‘I think I do.’ His smile is crooked. And in his own Louis way, I love him. ‘OK. Forget dinner,’ he says. ‘Bad idea. When am I seeing you again? It’s been a while.’
‘That’s the thing. I don’t think we should, any more.’
He looks away. I see him swallow. When he turns back, he says, ‘There’s someone else, isn’t there?’
I’m surprised by the question. Even more surprised by the answer. ‘Yes.’
‘Surfer boy?’
‘Surfer boy – who’s now living in San Diego and hates my guts.’
‘Some consolation, I guess.’ His smile is crooked. ‘But, hang on,’ he says, ‘if he’s not here, and he hates your so-called guts –’
‘It’s over. Totally over. But I haven’t been honest with myself for a long time now. And I need to do that. I need to miss him. I owe him that. I owe myself that.’ I squint. ‘If that makes any sense.’
‘Eh. No.’ He smiles.
‘Louis, you’re a great guy . . .’
‘No. I’m not. But I was becoming a better guy.’
‘I like you. I really like you. But –’
‘OK. Stop there. You love this guy, right?’
I press my lips together. Nod.
‘Then don’t tell me how much you like me, OK?’
I blush. ‘Sorry.’
And then he goes all bad-boy again. ‘Don’t suppose there’s any chance of a sympathy shag?’
I burst out laughing. ‘Don’t suppose there’s any chance of us staying friends?’
The Butterfly Novels Box Set: Contemporary YA Series (And By The Way; And For Your Information; And Actually) Page 22
