How Could You Do This To Me, Mum?

by Rosie Rushton

  Oh wow, thought Jon. It’s not a friend really. It’s her. She really loves me and is scared to say so.

  ‘Oh, she should definitely say something. Without doubt, the sooner the better,’ gabbled Jon.

  ‘You think so?’ queried Sumitha. ‘Really?’

  ‘Really,’ insisted Jon. ‘Absolutely.’

  ‘Right,’ said Sumitha. ‘That’s what I’ll . . . that’s what I’ll tell her to do.’

  Jon waited. Nothing happened.

  I’ll take her home – she’ll tell me there, he thought.

  They went to his house, ate chocolate chip cookies and drank Coke. Sumitha told him about how she was going to do science at Birmingham University.

  ‘Why Birmingham?’ said Jon.

  ‘That’s where Paul went,’ said Sumitha and bit her tongue.

  ‘Paul?’ snapped Jon.

  ‘Mr Sharpe, our science teacher,’ explained Sumitha. ‘He is the most amazing, incredible person you have ever met in your life.’

  I’ll kill him, thought Jon.

  ‘Talking of science,’ said Sumitha. ‘Would you do something for me?’

  ‘Of course,’ said Jon

  ‘I’m stuck on question four of my biology homework. I’ve brought it with me. Can you take a look?’

  She proffered her science book. Jon sighed. This wasn’t quite what he had in mind. Still, at least it kept her with him for a bit longer.

  The back door opened and Jon’s father staggered in under the weight of his golf bag.

  Oh no, thought Jon. Why does he have to come back early?

  ‘Well, hello, Semelda,’ Henry boomed.

  ‘Sumitha,’ corrected Sumitha.

  ‘What are you two up to, then, huddled up together? Or shouldn’t I ask?’ Henry winked at Jon who cringed with embarrassment.

  ‘Jon’s helping me with my biology,’ explained Sumitha.

  ‘I wouldn’t have thought a pretty little thing like you needed to worry her head about matters scientific,’ said Henry.

  Sumitha bit her tongue.

  ‘I’m going to be a scientist,’ she said.

  ‘Really? Well, well. I thought you people tended to go into the family business and that sort of caper. What’s your father do? Run a Balti house?’

  ‘No, Mr Joseph, he does not. He is a radiologist at the General. My mother is a teacher of English. Jon, I have to go. Thanks for looking at that, but my father is bound to be able to sort it out for me. Bye.’

  And without a backward glance she walked out the door.

  ‘Dad,’ said Jon, ‘you are the pits.’

  Chapter Forty-One

  Trouble at The Tip

  The Tip was amazing. It was all decked out to look like the town dump, with oil drums as tables and sawn off logs and upturned rubbish bins as seats. In one corner was a huge artificial rubbish heap made out of polystyrene on which an assortment of kids lounged. Hanging from the ceiling were old dustbin lids, hub caps, ancient lawnmowers, wringing machines and all sorts of paraphernalia.

  ‘So you came then?’ Fee had commented when Chelsea turned up. She was wrapped around a guy with an orange Mohican and a long leather jacket. ‘Spike, this is Chelsea – mate of Bex.’

  Spike inclined his head infinitesimally by way of acknowledgement.

  ‘Sex-eeee!’ A tall, thickset guy with a crew-cut leaned across Bex and said, ‘I’m Eddie. Want to dance?’

  As they tried to move on the packed floor, which was littered with empty crisp packets and cigarette ends (‘It’s all part of the scene, they never clear up,’ Eddie explained), Chelsea looked round her. Most of the kids were older than her and a lot of them were drinking. The air was heavy with smoke and she began to feel a bit uncomfortable. Still, Eddie seemed very friendly and even Fee seemed to have accepted her.

  In the middle of the dance floor, Eddie held her tight against him and began kissing her. She pushed him away. It didn’t feel right – she hardly knew the guy.

  ‘Don’t, please – no,’ she gasped.

  ‘Oh dear, dear, going to be a little tease, are you?’ Chelsea shrugged him off and headed for the corner where Fee and Bex were lighting up cigarettes.

  ‘OK, Chel?’ Bex appeared at her side. ‘Want a fag?’

  Chelsea shook her head.

  ‘I expect Mummy doesn’t like diddums to smoke,’ sneered Fee. So much for the new-found friendliness, thought Chelsea. She looked at Bex for support.

  ‘Go on, have one,’ she urged. ‘Everyone does.’

  ‘Maybe you’d rather have one of these instead?’ Eddie waved a handful of white pills at her. Chelsea gaped.

  ‘No, I wouldn’t!’ she said.

  ‘They’re harmless,’ said Eddie, pushing one towards her. ‘Honest – just make you feel good.’

  ‘No way,’ she said.

  ‘Leave her, Eddie,’ said Fee. ‘She’s only a kid – she can’t handle it.’

  Chelsea had had enough.

  ‘I have to go, anyway,’ she said. ‘Bye, Bex.’

  And she pushed through the crowd and out on to the pavement and began heading up the hill to the bus stop.

  Suddenly she heard someone coming up behind her.

  ‘Hey, don’t run off now,’ said Eddie grabbing her arm. ‘I’ve got plans for us.’ And he pushed her into a doorway and began kissing her, running his hands over her bottom.

  He smelled horrible and Chelsea was scared.

  ‘Don’t,’ said Chelsea, pushing him away. ‘Don’t do that.’

  ‘Oh come on, now,’ he said. ‘That’s what you’ve been angling for all evening. Don’t be the prissy little miss with me now.’

  He grabbed a handful of hair, tipped her head back and began kissing her neck. His fingers fiddled with her bra strap. Chelsea screamed, kneed him swiftly in the groin and ran like hell up the road, tears pouring down her face.

  Chapter Forty-Two

  A Shock for Ruth

  ‘I want to watch Ginny on that chat show,’ called Ruth from the kitchen. ‘OK if we eat on our laps?’

  ‘Fine by me,’ said Melvyn. ‘Where’s Laura?’

  ‘Er, out with a mate,’ said Ruth. ‘Should be back any time now.’

  In fact, she was rather late, thought Ruth. Still, knowing Anona, she had probably invited Laura back for tea.

  They settled down with their plates of lasagne in front of the TV.

  ‘And now, before Tessa Talks, we are going over to the newsroom for an announcement.’

  Andrea Goodson, TV East’s head newscaster, appeared on screen.

  ‘Reports are coming in of a major disturbance at the CurePlan laboratories at Fettlesham Down, just outside Leehampton.’

  There was a clatter as Ruth’s fork hit the plate.

  ‘Police in riot gear were called in to break up protesters who broke through the perimeter fence during the filming of an episode of Health Matters.’

  ‘What did I say?’ commented Melvyn. ‘It happens so often. Still, thank heaven Laura got that particular bee out of her bonnet. I wouldn’t have wanted her in the middle of all that.’

  Ruth’s heart was racing. She knew Laura was there. A clip of film was being run on the screen,

  ‘Several people were arrested, and two people, including a teenage girl, were injured during the incident and were taken to Leehampton General Hospital. We will bring you further . . .’

  ‘Oh, my God!’ Ruth cried. ‘Look! It’s Laura! Oh, my God!’

  The camera panned to two paramedics lifting a teenager into an ambulance. As they stood back to close the doors, Laura’s white face, eyes closed, was clearly visible.

  Melvyn’s face blanched. Ruth grabbed his arm.

  ‘What in the name of . . . OK, keep calm – I’ll phone the General. Get your coat.’ He paused. ‘Do you think the Brownings know?’

  Ruth was crying too hard to reply.

  ‘I’ll run round and tell them. Don’t worry, love, she’ll be OK.’

  A few minutes later, Alexa Browning
opened the front door.

  ‘Is your mum in?’ asked Melvyn.

  ‘No, I’m afraid she and Dad have gone out. Gran’s here, though.’

  An elderly lady with an anxious expression came to the door. ‘We thought you should know – our daughter, Laura, was with Daniel this afternoon at a demo at—’

  Alexa’s gran held up her hand. ‘I know. That’s where Rodney and Barbara are now – at the police station. Sorting out my hot-headed grandson. Oh, my goodness – that girl on the television – that wasn’t—’

  One look at Melvyn’s grim expression showed that it was.

  ‘We’re on our way to the hospital now,’ he said shortly. ‘We’ll discuss all this with Daniel later.’

  Chapter Forty-Three

  Chelsea Seeks Shelter

  Chelsea ran until she had such a bad stitch that she had to stop. She looked warily over her shoulder, but there was no sign of Eddie. She took out her mobile and rang home.

  ‘Hi, thank you for calling the Gee family. No one is available at present to take your call . . .’

  Sugar. Dad was obviously still out and she knew her mum wouldn’t be back for at least another hour.

  ‘Please speak clearly after the long tone.’

  ‘It’s me, Chelsea,’ she began and started to cry. Then her phone started beeping and switched itself off. Chelsea realised that, with all her evening focussed on getting ready, she had forgotten to charge it. As she was trying to get it to turn back on, a guy passing by gave her an odd look. She pocketed her phone and fled.

  She felt sick. Everything had turned out wrong. She thought she was going to have a brilliant evening and make new friends and instead of that she’d made a total idiot of herself. What was it with her? She’d really hated it when Eddie had come on strong, but surely at fifteen she should be enjoying a bit of a snog?

  She didn’t want to walk home in the dark. That would be asking for trouble. She thought she would get a taxi but she didn’t have enough cash. She would have to wait till she thought Dad was back and get him to pay the driver.

  She was shaking, partly with cold and partly with misery. Across the road she saw the lights of The Fishbone fish and chip shop. She’d get a coffee and then try ringing home again.

  She peered into a shop window, rubbed her smudged mascara ineffectually with a paper tissue and went into the shop.

  Chapter Forty-Four

  Casualty of War

  It seemed to Ruth as if they would never get to the General. Every traffic light was red, every roundabout clogged with traffic.

  Why had she listened to Anona? Why had she let Laura go? What had happened to her? She couldn’t tell from the shot on the television how badly hurt she was.

  ‘Why on earth did Laura go to that wretched thing in the first place?’ said Melvyn, tapping his fingers on the steering wheel as they sat in yet another queue of traffic. ‘I thought she was out shopping with you most of the day.’

  ‘Actually,’ whispered Ruth, ‘I went on my own. I said she could go.’

  ‘You did what?’ yelled Melvyn. ‘You shouldn’t be doing all that on your own at a time like this, and besides I specifically told Laura she couldn’t go.’

  Anona Joseph was going and said she would keep an eye out for her, and I thought it would be all right,’ she said.

  ‘Oh wonderful,’ said Melvyn. ‘So now Laura is in hospital with heaven alone knows what sort of injury and—’

  ‘All right, all right, you don’t have to go on!’ shouted Ruth, trying very hard not to cry. ‘I’m feeling bad enough without you laying into me!’

  ‘Hey, don’t get upset – you’ve got the baby to think of,’ said Melvyn.

  He sped into the hospital forecourt and pulled up outside Accident and Emergency.

  They ran up to the reception desk. ‘My daughter, Laura Turnbull – she’s been brought in – she was in the Fettlesham demo.’

  ‘Oh yes, Mrs Turnbull. If you will just take a seat, I’ll get someone to have a word with you.’

  ‘But how is she? Is it serious?’

  ‘Just take a seat, and someone will be with you directly.’ The nurse smiled soothingly.

  Within a few moments, another nurse bustled up to them, carrying a chart.

  ‘I’m Staff Nurse Nisbet,’ she said. ‘You can see Laura now. She’s doing fine. She was unconscious for a few minutes – hit by a stone, we think – but she came round very quickly. We’ve had to give her four stitches, but it’s under her hairline and there’s no great damage done.’

  ‘Thank God,’ said Ruth and burst into tears.

  Laura was lying on a trolley in one of the curtained cubicles. She was very pale and had a big sticking plaster on her left temple. When she saw her mum, she began to cry.

  ‘It was awful, Mum – really scary. I tried to stop Daniel, and then something hit me and now the police have taken Daniel and—’

  Ruth wrapped her arms round her.

  ‘It’s OK, sweetheart, it’s OK now,’ she murmured. ‘We’re here.’

  Chapter Forty-Five

  Surprises on the Small Screen

  Chelsea wrapped her hands round her mug of coffee and shivered. She felt miserable and alone and scared. She was about to drink the rest of her coffee and try calling from a phonebox when she heard something that made her look up in surprise.

  ‘And now will you please welcome your host for tonight – Ginny Gee!’

  There was a burst of applause from the TV set mounted above the fish bar. And there was her mum, looking surprisingly elegant in a taupe silk shirt and cinnamon pants, smiling to camera.

  ‘This is the show they call Tessa Talks – only tonight, it’s me, Ginny Gee, who is doing the talking and hoping that you, the audience, will join me in discussing a topic close to many of our hearts – teenagers.’

  Here we go, thought Chelsea.

  ‘She’s good, that Gee woman,’ said a man behind her to his companion. ‘She does Hot FM and writes in the paper – really cool stuff. My wife swears by her.’

  Despite herself, Chelsea felt quite chuffed. She decided to order another coffee and watch the show.

  ‘Chelsea? Are you OK?’ Bex flopped down on the seat beside her. ‘I’ve been looking everywhere for you.’

  Chelsea looked at her. ‘I suppose you think I’m totally uncool,’ she muttered.

  Bex shook her head. She looked really worried.

  ‘I think you’re brilliant,’ she declared. ‘Eddie had it coming to him – he tries it on with everyone. And . . . I’m sorry,’ she added.

  ‘What for?’ asked Chelsea. ‘You didn’t do anything.’

  Bex shrugged. ‘That’s the point. I didn’t. I guess I should have warned you – it was Fee’s idea. She thought it would be a laugh to make you look stupid so she set the whole thing up. She didn’t reckon with you being so sassy. Hey, isn’t that your mum on telly?’

  Chelsea nodded and glanced at the screen. A member of the audience was asking a question.

  ‘Do you have teenagers of your own? And, if so, how do you maintain a good relationship with them? I suppose in your line of business you have all the answers.’

  Chelsea groaned inwardly. ‘Let’s go,’ she said to Bex.

  ‘No wait, let’s hear what she says.’

  ‘Well, I have a lovely fifteen-year-old daughter, a nineteen-year-old son and another daughter in her twenties. Of course, I adore them all.’

  ‘Only she likes Geneva best,’ muttered Chelsea.

  ‘And, as for having all the answers, if only I did. The point is, you see, that none of us have. Take me: my youngest daughter is a delight but she’s going through a rough time right now. Drifting apart from her long-standing friends, grappling with growing up, and on top of everything, having to cope with a menopausal mother.’

  The audience laughed sympathetically.

  ‘I never knew she realised,’ murmured Chelsea in surprise.

  ‘So how do you handle it all?’ persisted the que
stioner.

  ‘All you can do is love them, unequivocally and all the time. You may not always like what they do: but you must let them know you are there for them.’

  ‘Yes, but what about when they are rude and rebellious and just downright, well, maddening,’ said another woman. ‘Or is your kid a saint?’

  ‘Far from it!’ said Ginny smiling. ‘She drives me insane at times – but then, I understand I have the same effect on her – wearing the wrong clothes, saying the wrong thing to the wrong person at the wrong time – being parental in fact!’ Another laugh.

  ‘But despite all the aggro, deep down I know she is there for me, just as I am always there for her. I’m just dreading the day when she grows up and leaves home – but I try not to think about that.’

  ‘I wish my mum was like that,’ said Bex softly. ‘I reckon you’re so lucky.’

  ‘Me too,’ said Chelsea, sniffing, and hoped Bex wouldn’t see that she had tears in her eyes. ‘I’m going home.’

  ‘Chelsea?’ said Bex. ‘We can still be friends, can’t we?’

  ‘Of course,’ said Chelsea.

  ‘Good,’ said Bex.

  Chapter Forty-Six

  Shocks on Screen

  Jon sat slumped in front of the television. Some Saturday night this had turned out to be. He couldn’t believe how his dad had behaved. Even his mum had been pretty shocked when he related the conversation. He was sure he’d lost Sumitha now. Not that she had turned out to be as much fun as he had expected. Hard work was one thing, but she never seemed to want to laugh or joke around. Maybe they just weren’t cut out for one another. Maybe he would never ever have a girlfriend. Maybe he was just a freak.

  ‘Switch the local news on, Jon, there’s a dear.’ His mother staggered into the room in her dressing gown, clutching a pile of tissues. ‘I want to see if there’s anything on about the demo.’