The Butterfly Novels Box Set: Contemporary YA Series (And By The Way; And For Your Information; And Actually)

by Denise Deegan

  ‘Let’s sit down.’

  ‘I don’t want to sit down.’

  ‘Sarah, I understand. This is so hard. And you’re emotional. Understandably. But you’ve always been such a romantic. Marriage doesn’t mean happy ever after.’

  ‘Don’t you think I know that?’ I’ve watched one fall apart right in front of me. I try to calm down. ‘Mum. He’s going to die. Can’t we just have this?’

  ‘I need to sit down.’

  For a long time, she just sits at the kitchen table, like she’s arguing it out in her head. Finally, she looks up. And my heart stops.

  ‘I want to meet him,’ she says.

  ‘OK.’

  ‘I want to see for myself that he loves you.’

  She’ll see that.

  ‘I want to know that he’s thinking of you.’

  That too.

  ‘And that, somehow, he’ll take care of you.’

  ‘I can take care of myself.’

  ‘Good. That’s good. But this is going to be a bumpy ride, Sarah. Someone has to be making sure you’re OK.’

  ‘His parents are lovely, Mum.’

  ‘Yes but they’re not your parents. And you can’t expect them to be.’

  ‘I know.’

  ‘Their priority is Shane. Just like my priority is you. And that’s why I can’t just give in, like snapping my fingers. I want you to be happy, Sarah.’

  ‘Then just say yes.’

  ‘I want to meet Shane. And I want to meet his parents.’

  Oh God, I think, wondering what she’s going to ask them, wondering what she’s going to say. But it’s my only way forward, so I say, ‘OK.’

  THIRTY-FIVE | IT’S YOU!

  On the DART in the morning, Rachel spots it.

  ‘Is that a new ring?’

  I lift my hand up. ‘That?’ I ask as if it’s nothing. ‘Yep, it’s new.’

  ‘It’s on your engagement finger, Sarah,’ Alex says.

  ‘Oh, yeah,’ I say, as if I hadn’t noticed.

  ‘So it’s not an engagement ring?’ Rachel says, cautiously.

  ‘Oh, no, it is,’ I say brightly.

  ‘Oh my God!’ they say together.

  ‘Last night?’ Rachel asks.

  ‘Yep.’

  ‘Did you know?’

  ‘No clue.’

  ‘Wow.’

  ‘My God.’

  Then Rachel goes all serious. ‘Can you even get married at seventeen?’

  ‘With your parents’ permission.’

  ‘Do you think they’ll give it?’ she asks, doubtfully.

  ‘I asked Mum.’

  ‘And?’

  ‘She wants to meet Shane. And his parents.’

  ‘Yikes.’

  ‘I know.’

  ‘And your dad?’

  ‘I kind of started with Mum.’

  ‘Sarah,’ Rachel says. ‘Are you sure about this?’ She looks all concerned. ‘I mean marriage is for life.’

  I look at her. ‘Life can be kinda short sometimes.’

  She swallows. ‘I’m sorry.’

  I shrug. ‘It’s OK.’

  ‘No. It’s not. It’s terrible,’ Alex says. She looks like she’s going to cry. ‘Why does there always have to be, like, a catch, you know? Why can’t it be simple?’

  ‘Alex, it’s OK. Seriously,’ I say.

  She shakes her head. ‘No. It’s so unfair. It’s so sad.’

  ‘No. Honestly. It’s great. I never thought he’d ask. I really didn’t.’

  ‘I know, but life – it’s such a bitch.’

  I smile.

  ‘And what are you smiling about?’ she snaps.

  ‘I don’t know. You’re just so hormonal or something.’

  ‘What?’ She’s outraged. ‘That’s like saying, “Are you having your period?”’

  I laugh. I can’t help it. ‘It’s your hormones, Alex. Definitely.’

  Rachel puts an arm around her. ‘I guess it’s not sad if Sarah’s happy, right?’

  Alex looks at me. ‘Are you?’

  I smile. ‘Incredibly.’

  ‘Well then,’ Rachel says, as if that’s that.

  And I love them both. I really do.

  In school, one of the nerds spots the ring and tells the other nerd. Next thing I know, they’re in my face with questions. So I just tell them, straight out, ‘Yeah, I’m engaged.’ That’s when it hits me – being engaged is one thing I have. Whatever else happens, no one can take that from me. Wahoo.

  The nerds practically wet themselves, they’re so excited to be first with the scandal. It flies around the class like a physical thing, an orange being passed from chin to chin. The orange reaches Simon. He looks at me for a long time.

  I look back. I don’t care what you do. I don’t care what you say. Bring it.

  He takes Amy aside. And I’m waiting for them to add wheelchair to the story, some spice to turn me into a bigger freak than I already am. But, actually, it’s starting to look like they’re having some sort of argument. I wonder what they could be fighting about. Which one of them will break the news? How to? When? In the end, Amy walks away, looking seriously pissed off.

  All day, I wait for Round Two of the scandal to break. It never does. The word ‘wheelchair’ is never mentioned. And when we’re finally leaving for the day, and I see Simon ahead of me, I think, maybe he’s not the world’s biggest jerk after all. Or maybe he’s just making me sweat.

  Shane calls to say that Deirdre would like to ‘talk’ to me when I get there.

  ‘Just me?’

  ‘Is that OK?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Really?’

  ‘No. I’m joking. It’s fine.’ It’s not, though, really. It’s terrifying.

  ‘You sure?’ he asks.

  ‘My mum’s talking to you, remember?’

  ‘Yeah. When’s that happening?’

  ‘Don’t know. I gave Mum your number last night.’

  ‘Cool,’ he says.

  Even though we both know – it’s so not cool.

  Later, I walk up to the house, terrified. Even though I like Deirdre.

  She answers the door. I can’t see Shane anywhere. Crap.

  She brings me into the kitchen and offers me a drink.

  We sit at the table, her with a tea, me a Coke. And if I was Shane, I’d be listening at the door.

  ‘So, big news,’ she says.

  ‘Yeah.’

  Then no one says anything for ages.

  ‘You’ve been very good to Shane,’ she says.

  ‘No I haven’t,’ I say, because I don’t want her to think that that’s what this is about – me being good to Shane.

  She smiles. ‘Let me rephrase. You’ve been very good for him.’

  ‘He’s been very good for me.’ I sound defensive. I can’t help it. I just wish people would leave the freaking disease out of it.

  She smiles again. ‘You’re a sweet girl.’

  ‘No. I’m an ordinary girl. I just love him.’

  She looks at me for a long time. ‘Shane is very sick.’

  Oh. My. God. Do people think I’m blind? Deaf? Dumb? Living in a vacuum? Retarded? ‘I know he’s sick,’ I say, as calmly as I can. Which probably isn’t as calmly as it should be.

  ‘He’s losing power. All the time.’ Her voice wobbles. And I remember how hard this is for her.

  ‘Deirdre,’ I say. ‘I know all about motor neurone disease. Every little thing. I’ve read about the research. I’ve read about disease progression.’ Might as well use all those words I now know. ‘I’ve seen photos. I’ve seen people whose disease is more advanced. I know,’ I finish up.

  She nods, slowly. ‘I just want to be sure you know exactly what you’d be taking on. It’s my duty to you, Sarah, as Shane’s mum.’

  ‘And I get that. But it’s not the disease I’m marrying. It’s Shane.’

  ‘It comes with him.’

  ‘I know that.’

  ‘You’re a very determined
young lady.’

  ‘When it comes to Shane I am.’

  ‘But are you strong?’

  ‘I don’t know.’

  She thinks for a while. ‘Your parents. What have they said?’

  ‘My mum wants to talk to you.’

  She nods. ‘Good, because I want to talk to her.’ She smiles then. I don’t know why – to calm me down? ‘And your dad?’

  I clear my throat. ‘He doesn’t know yet.’

  She looks surprised.

  ‘They’re separated. I’m calling him tonight.’ I’ve just decided.

  She nods slowly and is quiet for a while.

  ‘Sarah,’ she says then, like she’s made a decision. ‘Fred and I have no say in this. Shane is over eighteen. He can do what he likes. I just want you to know that if he wasn’t eighteen and we had a say, it would be ‘yes’. If your parents give their consent, we’d be delighted to have you as part of our family.’

  Then it hits me. What exactly they’d be taking on.

  ‘Thank you,’ I whisper, kind of bowled over.

  ‘And I don’t care what you say,’ she says, firmly. ‘You are a very special person. And I’ll be telling that to your mother. In case she doesn’t already know.’ She winks.

  And I blush because I’m not special. I just want to be with the person I love.

  I don’t actually ring Dad that night. I chicken out until two nights later. Mum has gone to meet Shane’s parents and I have to take my mind off that.

  ‘Sarah!’ Dad sounds happy I’ve rung.

  ‘I was hoping we could meet up.’

  ‘Sure. Will we go back to the restaurant we were in last time? You seemed to like it.’

  The happiest moment of my life was there. It seems like a good sign. ‘Yeah, that’d be great, thanks.’

  I wonder if I should warn him that I’ve some news. No. He’ll just try to get it out of me. So I just hang up. Immediately, I start to write out a list of reasons he should say yes.

  I’m still at it an hour later when Mum comes up to my room. I try to work out from her face how it went with Deirdre. But I can’t. She sits on the bed.

  ‘So,’ she says. ‘I’ve been to see Deirdre.’

  I know. I know, I think. Just tell me what she said.

  ‘She’s a lovely woman.’

  Oh my God.

  ‘And Shane. Shane’s a very impressive young man.’

  Please, God, don’t let her next sentence start with ‘but’.

  ‘He’s also a very convincing young man.’ She smiles.

  ‘Oh my God. Does that mean yes?’

  She raises her eyebrows, smiles and nods.

  ‘Really? Are you serious?’ I jump up from my desk and run to hug her.

  She pulls back and looks suddenly serious. ‘Sarah, there’s still your father.’

  He’s always been the easiest. ‘I’m meeting him Saturday.’

  It takes forever to get to Saturday, but it finally arrives. We walk into the restaurant. The waiter takes one look at me and says, ‘It’s you!’ like I’m some kind of celebrity.

  Oh God.

  Dad looks at me for an explanation.

  I shrug. I will the waiter to say nothing. Say nothing. But he does say something. It’s like he can’t hold it in.

  ‘This young lady got engaged in our restaurant only the other night.’

  I stand very still. Dad looks from him to me, then down at my finger. He turns the colour of salt.

  ‘What’s going on?’

  The waiter clears his throat. ‘Let me show you to your table.’

  Oh my God. It’s the same table Shane and I were at. I look at the waiter to see if this is some kind of joke. But he’s not looking at me any more. His shoes have his full attention now.

  We sit down. The waiter hands us the menus, avoiding our eyes. He tells us the specials, stumbling over the words. All the time Dad’s just staring at me. When the waiter finally leaves, I speak before Dad does.

  ‘That’s what I wanted to tell you.’ I smile. ‘I’m getting married … I just need your consent.’ Best way to put it, I think, under the circumstances.

  ‘If it wasn’t for that stupid bloody waiter,’ he says, ‘I’d think this was some kind of joke. What’s going on, Sarah?’

  I shrug. ‘I’m getting married.’

  ‘Of course you’re not. You’re sixteen.’

  ‘Seventeen. I had a birthday. You forgot.’

  He looks confused. Like how could I have had a birthday without him knowing? He shakes his head. ‘You still need to be eighteen.’

  ‘Unless you get parental consent.’

  His eyes narrow. ‘Who is this guy? And why do you have to get married?’ Then his eyes widen. ‘Are you in trouble?’

  ‘No, Dad. I’m not “in trouble”.’

  ‘Then why?’ As if there could be no other logical reason.

  ‘Because we’re in love. And don’t have much time.’ I tell him everything, beefing up the tragedy element.

  It totally backfires. ‘You’re not ready for this,’ he says, firmly. ‘This is far too traumatic for someone so young.’

  ‘How do you know? You don’t know me.’

  ‘I’ve lived with you all my life.’

  ‘Not quite.’

  ‘Almost.’

  ‘Mum said yes,’ I say, using it against him, making him the bad parent, the old-fashioned one.

  ‘I don’t believe that. She wouldn’t.’

  ‘She obviously has more faith in me than you do. She said yes, Dad.’

  ‘Well, I’m saying no.’

  I lose it. ‘You left. You can’t boss me around now, just so it looks like you care.’

  ‘I do care. Which is why I’m not allowing it.’

  ‘Why is it always about what you want? You don’t care about anybody but yourself.’

  ‘Sarah, for someone who wants to get married, you’re sounding very juvenile right now.’

  I want to throw my glass of water in his face and ask him how juvenile that is. But I want this so badly. ‘Please, Dad. I don’t ask you for anything. This is all I want. Just this one thing.’

  ‘No, Sarah,’ he says, like Peter at the Gates of Heaven. ‘I can’t let you do this to yourself. I won’t.’

  ‘Yeah, well don’t think that makes you a good father. Because you’re not.’ I get up and walk. Hating him all over again.

  ‘How did you get on?’ Mum asks when I walk into the kitchen. Then she sees my face. ‘Oh.’

  I burst out crying. ‘He doesn’t know anything about me, about Shane. And he didn’t try to find out. He just thinks he’s God.’ I slump into a chair.

  ‘It’s OK,’ she says. She rubs my back.

  ‘It’s all I want,’ I say, tears streaming down my face.

  She’s silent for the longest time. Then she says, ‘I’ll talk to him.’

  I look up at her in shock. She hasn’t spoken to him since the shoplifting incident and that was only because she had to.

  ‘You’d do that. For me?’

  She takes my face between both her hands. ‘You’re my little girl. I’d do anything for you.’ She kisses my forehead.

  ‘But—’

  ‘Sarah, you’ve grown up so much in the past few months. So much. In fairness to your father, he hasn’t seen enough of you to realise that. I have, and I know how much you need to do this. I know that if you don’t, you’ll regret it for the rest of your life. It’s going to be hard, no question. But you can come home anytime. No one will blame you. Shane will understand. We’ve spoken about that.’

  ‘Mum, I won’t leave him. No matter how hard it gets.’

  ‘OK. But you need to know that you can – for down the road.’

  No one thinks I’m strong enough for this. But I am. I’ll show them.

  ‘So, do you want me to talk to your dad?’

  ‘Mum, that would be amazing. But talking to Dad …’ I make a face.

  She smiles. ‘Come on. I have to stand up to
him some time. Here’s my chance.’

  THIRTY-SIX | WOMAN

  I try to be like Shane and not think about the bad stuff (my dad), just think about what I’ve got. I’m engaged. And I’ve ten driving lessons to use up. So when Louis offers me my first lesson, I take it.

  We walk out to the car.

  ‘So when do I get to meet this guy?’ Louis asks.

  ‘You already have.’

  ‘I mean properly.’

  ‘You’re not, like, the man of the house or anything, Louis. You don’t get to vet my … fiancé.’ Ooh, I like the sound of that.

  ‘I’m not vetting anyone. If he’s going to be part of our family, I’d like to get to know him.’

  ‘Oh, right.’ OK. That’s different. And maybe kind of sweet. ‘Thanks.’

  He looks at me. ‘Sarah, if it wasn’t for you, I’d never have had the guts to go back and talk to Alex again.’

  ‘What did I do?’

  ‘You inspired me.’

  I laugh. ‘I inspired you?’

  ‘The way you piled in there with Shane, no worries. Wheelchair, so what?’

  ‘I love him,’ I say simply.

  ‘I love her.’

  I smile. ‘Told ya. How’s that going?’ I ask, instead of getting in.

  He shrugs. ‘At least, I can be with her without going crazy for her, which is an improvement. It’s like I’m there to protect her now or something.’

  ‘Really?’

  He grimaces. ‘OK, it’s kind of old fashioned.’

  ‘No. It’s how I feel too. Like I’d kill anyone who got in her way. You know?’

  ‘So I’m not mad.’

  I smile. ‘Unless, of course, we’re both mad.’

  ‘A distinct possibility.’

  I smile again. ‘So Alex is OK with you being around?’

  He shrugs. ‘As friends, I guess. Why? Has she said anything to you?’

  I shake my head. ‘Alex is kind of private like that.’

  He smiles. ‘I know. She’s great, isn’t she?’

  ‘Yeah.’

  We get into the car, but I don’t want to get going just yet.

  ‘What are you going to do when the baby comes?’ I ask, seeing as we’ll probably never have a chat like this again.

  ‘I don’t know. Whatever Alex needs, I guess.’

  ‘You going to tell Mum?’

  ‘I’m not going to tell anyone unless Alex wants people to know.’