‘Come on, sit down and keep me company,’ he says, all friendly and persuasive.
‘Are you going to behave?’
He puts his hands up like I’m going to shoot. ‘Definitely.’
No longer afraid of him, I sit down. Almost immediately, Bingo starts.
‘Three and five, thirty-five.’ I look at the board.
‘So, how long’ve you been shoplifting?’ he whispers. Like it’s a hobby or something.
I ignore him. Just look at the board.
‘What’s the most interesting thing you’ve stolen?’
I look at him. ‘I’m concentrating.’
‘Go on, tell me. What’s the most interesting thing you’ve nicked?’
‘Don’t think I won’t hurt you just because you’re in a wheelchair.’
He bursts out laughing. ‘I didn’t expect you to be this interesting.’
‘Yeah, well, I expected you to be this condescending.’
‘Ooh, burn.’ But he’s smiling. ‘So, am I safe?’
‘What?’
‘You’re not going to steal me, are you?’ I smile. ‘On second thoughts, do. Steal me. I’m up for being stolen.’
I laugh. People look over. I blush and shut up. I concentrate on the numbers.
‘Five and one, fifty-one.’
I cover it with a counter.
He looks at me like I’m mad. ‘You’re not actually playing, are you?’
‘That’s why I’m here.’
‘I thought you were on community service.’
‘I am. Now, let me do it.’
He shakes his head.
I stay with him for the afternoon. We don’t win anything. And I’m kind of glad. He’d probably just slag off the prize. But it’s weird. It’s like being with my friends. We slag each other the same way. Talk about stuff the same way. If someone had told me, walking up the avenue, how seriously funny he was, I wouldn’t have believed them. And I wonder if all he wanted was to be treated like a normal person.
Mary Gleeson doesn’t look any different from usual. She doesn’t look like she’s expecting any great breakthrough – the kind of breakthrough I was expecting when I agreed to speak to my dad.
‘So, how’ve you been?’ she asks, like she’s happy to let this run and run. Which makes me so angry. This is my life.
‘I thought you said if I talked to my dad, it would stop. It hasn’t stopped.’
‘You’ve taken something?’
‘No. But I wanted to. This hasn’t gone away.’
‘OK,’ she says, like she’s considering that. ‘You spoke with your dad. How did that go?’
‘Crap.’
She raises her eyebrows, as in: how crap?
‘I did everything you said. And I felt worse, not better.’
‘In what way?’
‘I don’t want to talk about it.’
‘OK.’
‘I told him I hated him.’
‘Do you?’
‘I don’t know. I felt like I did when I said it.’
‘Then you needed to say it. How did he react?’
‘He was OK.’
‘Did he apologise?’
‘For what, leaving?’
She nods.
‘Yeah, but so what? He’s still living with her.’
‘It’s good, though, isn’t it, that he accepts the blame for how you feel?’
‘Yeah, well he should.’
She smiles. ‘Let’s leave that for now,’ she says patiently. ‘I want you to remember back to the very first time you took something from a shop. I want you to tell me how you felt immediately afterwards. I’m talking about good feelings here.’
The fact that she expects them makes me feel a little less guilty. ‘I felt kind of buzzed.’
‘Go on.’
‘I felt like, I don’t know, kind of like, a winner? Like I could beat the system, get what I wanted without depending on anyone. Not my mum. Not my friends.’ She nods me on. ‘It made me feel powerful.’
‘Because it gave you the one thing you really needed – control over your life. Think about it, Sarah. Your dad left. Your mum was angry. You’d no control over any of that. This was the one thing you could control.’ Suddenly, it’s like she’s on my side. ‘You talked about depending on your friends for money. Have they more than you?’
‘Are you kidding? They’re minted. Seriously minted. I can’t keep up.’
She nods, then, after a while, asks, ‘Have you ever tried making your own money?’
‘Mum won’t let me take a part-time job. She wants me to study.’
She thinks for a while. ‘I see that,’ she says at last. ‘I also see that if you were to earn your own money, you’d feel a lot more in control. I think it’s important, Sarah. How would your mum feel about you babysitting?’
‘I don’t know anyone with small kids.’
‘You could advertise.’
‘I guess.’ I’m not sure I even like small kids. My cousins are psychos. I’m more comfortable with animals. ‘In school, they want us to start our own businesses. It’s like a Young Entrepreneur Scheme? I was thinking of a pet-minding business but Mum hates dogs. So that’s the end of that.’
‘You like animals?’
‘I love animals.’
‘Have you asked her about the business?’
‘No point. Even if she was OK with it, which she so wouldn’t be, who’d take me seriously? I’m a teenager.’
‘I’d leave my dogs with you. In fact, if you start a pet-minding business, I will.’
‘Seriously? You’d leave your dogs with me?’
‘I know a lot of people who would. Have you ever seen a kennels?’
‘No.’
‘Then you should go visit one. No one wants to leave their dog in kennels.’
‘What kind of dogs do you have?’
‘King Charles.’
‘Aw, they’re so cute.’
‘Sarah. No one sails through the break-up of a family. It’s very common to feel out of control. You’ve a chance to regain it. Ask your mum about the business. If she’s against it, think of another idea. Something you’ll like. The important thing is to get cracking.’
Suddenly, that’s exactly what I want to do.
‘How is your mum?’
Two weeks ago, that question would have stopped me. Now I’m smiling. ‘Better. She’s going out a bit. She got her hair cut and let me give her a manicure. Which is, like, amazing for her. But the best thing is, she’s doesn’t want to be angry any more. She’s trying. It’s good.’
‘Sarah, I’m very encouraged by this session. I know you think things didn’t go well with your dad, but it was important to let him know how you feel, to let that out. You wanted to shoplift. But you didn’t do it. You want to put this behind you. And you will. I want you to put all your energy this week into starting a business. If you need me to write to your mum to emphasise the importance—’
‘No. It’s OK. I’ll ask her.’
For the first time, I leave Mary Gleeson’s offices feeling better.
You don’t just spring a request on my mum. You prepare what you’re going to say. You gauge her mood. You choose your moment. I prepare all the way home. My moment presents itself over lunch when she is actually eating, instead of smoking, and she’s just made a comment on the weather. There will never be a better time.
‘Mum?’
She looks up from her plate.
I almost back out. But I think of Mary Gleeson and force myself on. ‘You know the way you want me to be independent and look out for myself and stuff?’
She looks at me like she knows something’s coming. ‘Yes?’ she asks cautiously.
‘Well, in school, they want us to run our own businesses.’
‘Really? That’s great. What kind of businesses?’
Here we go. ‘Pet minding.’
‘They want you to run a pet-minding business?’
I could lie. And God I’m tempt
ed. ‘No. Any kind of business. I just want to mind pets.’
For a moment she says nothing, then, ‘How would that work?’
I can’t believe the conversation isn’t over. ‘Well, when people go away, I’d mind their goldfish and stuff.’
‘Goldfish?’
‘Well, and dogs and stuff.’
‘Dogs?’
‘I wouldn’t have to mind them here. I could ask people if they’d be OK with me minding them in their homes.’
‘What, you mean like you’d stay there when they’re away?’
She’d never allow that.
‘No. I’d just go there a few times a day and feed the dog and bring it for walks and play with it for a bit.’ I’m working this out as I go along.
‘Wouldn’t they be lonely on their own all day?’
She’s actually concerned about the dogs? ‘They might be.’
‘Mind them here,’ she says matter-of-factly, like it makes total sense. She’s forgotten something.
And I know I shouldn’t remind her but … ‘You hate dogs.’
‘No I don’t.’
‘Then why don’t I have one?’ I nagged her for years.
She takes a deep breath. ‘Sarah, in marriage, parents should show a united front.’
‘What are you saying, that Dad didn’t like dogs and you just went along with him?’
‘When you’re older you’ll understand.’
‘But what about what you wanted?’
‘Your dad was the parenting expert.’
‘Because he was a psychologist?’ She doesn’t believe that, does she?
‘Sarah, we’re getting off the point here. You want to run a pet-minding service. I’m saying that’s fine with me.’
I break into a smile. ‘Really? You’re serious, right?’
‘Am I ever otherwise?’
OMG, is that a joke?
‘But you have to be responsible,’ she says. ‘This is a business. You have to go about it in a professional manner, think of all the eventualities, anything that could go wrong, and prepare for it. If a dog gets sick, what next?’
My face falls. And I think, maybe I can’t do this.
‘It’s OK. I’m not trying to put you off. I’m just saying. You’ll be responsible for other people’s pets. You have to live up to that. If a dog gets sick, you take it to the vet and get the owner to pay the bill when they come home.’
‘What if they refuse?’
‘That’s why you have to think ahead. Everyone leaving a pet with you must sign a legal agreement.’
Oh my God. ‘A legal agreement?’
‘Of course. If they were leaving their pet in a kennels they’d have to do the same. It’s just an agreement between two people outlining where everyone stands. Don’t worry, I’ll help you with it and I’ll get our solicitor to look over it. I just want you to think it all through, know what you’re getting into. Be professional. That’s all. This will be an amazing experience, Sarah. A great opportunity. I’m so proud of you for picking such a responsible business idea. Some people will probably just bake cakes.’
I smile. That’s what most people are doing. I can’t believe I almost didn’t ask. I can’t believe she said she was proud. I especially can’t believe that she likes dogs. I think about what she said about Dad being the expert. And, for the first time in my life, I wonder if being married to him had a downside.
FOURTEEN | DON’T LIKE HER
Rachel says she wants a break from Mark tonight. David’s not here. And there’s no way I’m bringing Simon. So it’s just the three of us, in a tiny pizzeria in Dalkey. The Italian waiters fuss over us a bit. Which is nice.
‘I’m doing the pet-minding business,’ I tell them while we wait for our pizzas.
‘Really? Great,’ Rachel says.
‘What about your mum?’ Alex asks.
‘You’re not going to believe it. She likes dogs after all.’ I explain about how mum wanted to keep a united front and I feel kind of sad. ‘It makes me wonder what else she went along with. Everything?’
Rachel shakes her head. ‘No. You couldn’t do that for an entire marriage. It would do your head in. You’d end up killing someone.’
Or being seriously angry all the time. Suddenly, I don’t want to think about that.
‘I thought I’d do posters and put up little notices, you know in supermarkets and stuff.’
‘I’ll give you a hand if you like,’ Rachel says.
‘Hey,’ Alex says, ‘if you’re going to be walking dogs, I could come with Homer.’
‘Oh my God, that’d be so cool.’
I still can’t believe this is really going to happen.
Our pizzas come and look delicious. We don’t wait.
‘So,’ Rachel asks Alex after a while. ‘How’s Lover Boy?’
She smiles. ‘Good. I didn’t think this would work, just staying in touch on Skype. But it’s OK, you know? And we’ll see each other over the summer. Which is, like, only weeks away.’ She closes her eyes. ‘I can’t wait.’
‘Who’s that girl who keeps posting on his wall?’ Rachel asks.
‘What girl?’
‘I don’t know. Jenny someone?’
‘Oh. She’s in the group he hangs out with. I’ve met her. She’s OK.’
‘I don’t like her,’ Rachel says.
‘Yeah, I know. She fancies him. It’s OK. We joke about it.’
‘Still don’t like her.’
‘Thanks for caring, Rachey,’ Alex says, reaching over and pinching her cheek and wiggling it around.
‘Get off, Jesus.’ Rachel slaps at her.
We laugh.
‘What’s up with you and Mark?’ Alex asks Rachel.
‘I don’t know. He’s just bugging me, the way he keeps going on about going to California when he’s finished school.’
‘Rachel, everyone goes on about California,’ I say.
‘And we’re not leaving school for two years,’ Alex says. ‘A lot can happen in two years. Like he could change his mind.’
‘It’s just that when he goes on like that it’s like he wants to get away. From me. You know?’
‘You’re being too sensitive,’ Alex says.
‘Yeah,’ I say.
‘You think?’
‘Definitely.’
‘Phew,’ she says, sighing. ‘I really needed to hear that.’
No one asks about Simon. And, by now, I don’t expect them to.
All week, I work on setting up my business, designing posters on the computer and printing them off, putting them up anywhere I can, making smaller notices for places that won’t take actual posters, designing flyers with little cut-off bits with my phone number on. Mum takes flyers to work. Louis takes them to college, the Jitter Mug and the pub. Friday, I recruit an unexpected helper.
Miriam’s in the kitchen when I come down – which makes this, what, a second one-night stand? She’s already at the table. Eating my Coco Pops.
‘Hey,’ she says like we’re friends.
‘Hey.’ I get a bowl and reach for my Coco Pops.
‘These are great,’ she says, picking up the flyers. ‘Is this your business?’ I nod, kind of embarrassed. ‘Go you. How many pets do you get a week?’
I wish. ‘I’ve just started.’
‘Oh my God, I know so many people who’d use this service. Can I bring some to work?’
‘Sure,’ I say, surprised. ‘Thanks.’
‘No problem. It’s a great idea. So, you DARTing today?’
‘Eh, yeah.’
‘Great! Company!’
For someone her age, she doesn’t act so ancient. There’s probably someone upstairs who’d agree.
On the DART, she waves a cheery goodbye and carries on up the carriage. Rachel raises an eyebrow.
‘Is Louis actually going out with her?’
‘I’m thinking, second one-night stand,’ I say.
‘What’s she like?’ Rachel asks.
I shrug.
‘Nice. For her age.’
‘Yeah, but she’s ancient,’ Rachel says, looking at her.
Alex says nothing.
After school, I have to go to the home. I’m walking up the avenue, trying to think of good places to leave flyers. I don’t see Christina till I’m almost at the door.
‘Hey,’ I say, surprised she’s outside.
‘I was waiting for you.’
‘Is everything OK?’
‘Yes, I just wanted a word. It’s about Shane.’
Something’s wrong.
‘I don’t know what you did last week, but I’d like you to keep doing it.’
I squint at her. ‘I don’t know what you mean.’
‘When you left, he went over to John and apologised for taking you away. It was the first time he’d spoken to anyone since he arrived. He’s started to come out of himself a bit. I was hoping that, maybe, you could sit with him again.’
I hesitate. ‘I’m not sure he’d want me to. He doesn’t actually need help. And he’s got this thing about charity.’
She thinks about that. Then nods. ‘You’re right. I just got a little over-excited by the progress.’ She smiles. ‘Look, don’t worry about it.’
I shrug. ‘Sorry.’
‘No, no. You’re right.’
I follow her in. And there he is, sitting next to John, chatting away like John can chat back. He sees me and waves. Everything about him looks cheeky. I hike my school bag up and go over.
My ‘hey’ is a general one to both of them.
Christina sits beside John and starts talking to him. Shane moves away to give them space.
‘You coming?’ he asks.
‘Eh, yeah, sure.’
I walk with him. He stops at the edge of the group.
‘You’re sitting with me, right?’
‘Depends. Are you playing Bingo?’
‘If I have to.’
‘You have to.’ I go get the board and counters. There’s a lovely hum in the room from everyone chatting. I put the things on his tray and go get a chair. Finally, I sit.
‘So,’ he says, in a low voice. ‘Pull any heists this week?’ It’s like he thinks I’m cool because I got caught shoplifting.
‘I’m not exactly a criminal mastermind, you know.’
‘You’re as close to one as I’ll get.’
‘Except I don’t do it any more.’
He seems to sense that it’s a sensitive subject and backs off with a ‘I was only messing.’ Then he looks at me with this exaggerated, deep-meaningful expression. ‘So, how’ve you been?’
The Butterfly Novels Box Set: Contemporary YA Series (And By The Way; And For Your Information; And Actually) Page 35
