Eva's Journey

by Judi Curtin

  She didn’t hesitate.

  ‘I’m going to swim,’ she said.

  ‘Swim?’

  ‘Yes, you know – when you splash your arms and legs and move along in the water? Lots of people do it.’

  I had to laugh. I love it when Ruby tries to be funny.

  ‘So you’re going to join a swimming club?’

  ‘No. Clubs really aren’t my thing. I just like going to the pool and swimming. I can do fifty lengths without stopping.’

  I couldn’t think of many things I’d like to do less, but even talking about it made Ruby look happy, so who was I to argue?

  ‘So, since it’s my only day here, I’ll be able to manage the stall on my own on Saturdays,’ she said. ‘Even the jewellery part.’

  What was she saying?

  ‘You don’t have to help me any more if you don’t want,’ she said, making it clear enough for me.

  Suddenly I felt very sad.

  Helping Ruby in the market had become as much of my Saturday mornings as Pony Club used to be.

  I looked forward to it.

  I loved helping kids pick out nice bracelets and necklaces.

  I loved chatting with the old people, and pretending to be hurt when they questioned the quality of the cabbages or turnips.

  I loved my weekly battles with Mamie

  Every week, the man from the deli stall gave me some sort of foodie treat, and I loved bringing it home, along with a huge sack of fruit and vegetables. I loved the way Mum and Dad waited for me to come home on Saturdays. I loved the way they unpacked the bag of goodies with all the impatience of tiny kids on Christmas morning. I loved the feeling that I was giving something to my family, instead of just taking all the time.

  Ruby was staring at me with her huge brown eyes.

  ‘I’ve kind of got used to you being here, though,’ she said. ‘So if you want—’

  I didn’t wait for her to finish.

  ‘I’d love to keep coming here,’ I said.

  Ruby looked pleased.

  ‘I’m glad,’ she said. ‘But Mum and I insist on paying you properly – that’s the deal.’

  I didn’t argue. For one thing, Ruby was giving me such a fierce look, I didn’t dare to object. And besides, the thought of having some money of my own again, was something I so didn’t want to say no to.

  Ruby shook my hand formally.

  ‘Agreed?’

  I nodded happily, ‘Agreed.’

  After one of her long silences, Ruby continued.

  ‘There’s just one thing. Mum would like to talk to you. Could you come over for lunch today?’

  Before I could spend any time worrying about why Ruby’s mum wanted to see me, there was a little boy pulling at my sleeve.

  ‘Miss,’ he said. ‘Can you help me to pick a nice bracelet for my sister? It’s her birthday tomorrow.’

  I turned to help him, and so another Saturday in the market began.

  When we got to Ruby’s place, I had to blink a few times to make sure that I was in the right place. The front door had been freshly painted, and there were pots of flowers on the doorstep.

  ‘Wow,’ I said. ‘What happened here?’

  ‘Thanks to you, we were able to pay someone to spend an afternoon doing odd-jobs, and he worked miracles.’

  Ruby led me in to the front room. The bed was gone, and without it, the room looked huge – or maybe not huge, but certainly bigger than before.

  The table was still there, and in the middle of it was a round goldfish bowl with a fish swimming around happily.

  ‘Was that …?’ I began.

  Ruby nodded.

  ‘That was Mum’s crystal ball. When you were here that day, she threw poor Bubbles into the washing-up basin in the kitchen.’

  I giggled. It might have been cruelty to animals, but since Bubbles didn’t look too bothered, I figured there was no need for me to make a fuss about it.

  I thought back to the first time I had been in the room. I remembered Maggie in the ugly turban and the cloak that looked like it was made of tin foil.

  I remembered how sad and hopeless I had felt that day.

  Now Maggie came in to the room. She looked younger and happier than I had ever seen her before.

  ‘Will you go into the kitchen and set the table for lunch please, Ruby,’ she said.

  Ruby left the room, closing the door behind her.

  Maggie reached out her hand as if to shake hands with me, but when our hands touched, she slipped a ten euro note into my fingers.

  ‘I think I owe you this, Eva,’ she said.

  ‘But …’ I began.

  ‘Just listen,’ she said. ‘On that stupid Madam Margarita sign, I wrote that I could change your life. How pathetic and arrogant was that?’

  That didn’t seem like a question that needed an answer, so I said nothing, and Maggie continued.

  ‘Anyway, you noticed the sign, and came in here, and a life did get changed. But it was my life – not yours. And I am more grateful than you could ever understand. I can’t ever repay you properly. Nothing could repay you properly. But at least I would like you to have the ten euro I took from you under false pretences.’

  I looked at the money for a second.

  I thought of all the cool things I could buy with ten euro.

  Then I looked at the shabby room, and the torn carpet. If I had a hundred things to spend ten euro on, surely Maggie had thousands.

  I pushed the money back into her hand.

  ‘No,’ I said firmly. ‘You might have been talking rubbish that day, but I believed it for a while.’

  ‘You did?’

  I nodded, and Maggie went on.

  ‘When I came up with the stupid fortune-telling idea, I never really expected anyone to take it seriously. I was desperate, and I thought it might be an easy way to make money. But you believed what I said?’

  I nodded again.

  ‘I’m so sorry,’ she said. ‘It was wrong of me to take advantage of you.’

  ‘But I wanted to believe you,’ I said. ‘I needed to believe you.’

  Now Maggie looked more embarrassed than ever.

  ‘I’m so sorry, Eva,’ she said. ‘It was a long time ago. I can’t even remember what I told you that day.’

  ‘You said that if I helped people, my life would get better.’

  She nodded slowly.

  ‘Of course – I remember now. You see, at the time I thought you were a spoiled little princess, but how wrong I was!’

  I shook my head.

  ‘But you weren’t wrong. I was totally spoiled. I realise that now.’

  Maggie patted my hand.

  ‘You’re a good girl now, and my bet is that you were a good girl then too. Maybe the goodness was just buried more deeply before.’

  Now it was my turn to be embarrassed.

  ‘Anyway,’ I said. ‘I did exactly as you suggested, and I tried to help people, and doing that distracted me, and it helped me through some really hard times and …’

  Suddenly Maggie had her head in her hands.

  ‘Oh no,’ she wailed.

  ‘What is it?’ I said.

  She looked up at me. ‘I told you to help people.’

  ‘Yes, and?’

  ‘That’s why you’ve been helping Ruby.’

  Now I felt kind of guilty, like I’d been discovered doing something bad.

  ‘Not exactly,’ I said. ‘Well … maybe a bit. Maybe …’

  ‘Maybe what?’

  Suddenly I felt like Maggie had vanished and I was looking at Madam Margarita again.

  I felt like she could see through me – like she could tell what I was thinking even before I knew that I was thinking it.

  Suddenly, lying didn’t seem like such a good idea.

  ‘OK,’ I said, working it out in my head for the first time, as I spoke. ‘In the beginning I helped Ruby because of what you said – because I thought that helping Ruby would help me. But after a while, that changed.
I helped her because I wanted to help her. Helping her made me happy too.’

  Maggie was smiling at me.

  ‘That’s very sweet of you, Eva,’ she said. ‘I appreciate that very much. You see, Ruby’s never had many friends.’

  Was she my friend?

  ‘And I know she might not be your friend,’ she continued, like she could read my mind. ‘But you’ve been good to her, and that’s the next best thing.’

  I wasn’t sure that I agreed with her. I couldn’t imagine life without friends. I couldn’t imagine how I’d survive without Victoria or Ella.

  Maggie continued.

  ‘Sometimes I think Ruby doesn’t even want friends. She’s always been like that, even before my accident and before our lives went a bit crazy. I think it’s just the way she is, and nothing is ever going to change that.’

  Just then Ruby came back into the room.

  ‘Lunch is ready,’ she said. Then she stared at us. ‘What’s going on?’ she asked. ‘You both look very serious.’

  I grinned and reached for the goldfish bowl.

  ‘Maggie’s thinking of taking up fortune-telling again. Fill the washing-up basin, Bubbles is coming in.’

  The expression on Ruby’s face went from shock to anger and back to shock.

  ‘I’m kidding,’ I said, and then the three of us laughed for a long time.

  Suddenly time seemed to start flying by.

  Ella, Chloe and Amy came to the market and bought Maggie’s bracelets and necklaces. They told their friends, and their friends told their friends. One weekend, the local newspaper ran a big article about Maggie (managing not to include details of her brief career as a fortune-teller) and soon Maggie couldn’t keep up with the demand for her jewellery. After a while she had to get one of Mum’s new friends to help her, and every afternoon, the two of them sat around the table in Maggie’s house, making bracelets and having a laugh.

  One day I came home from school to see Mum and Dad standing in the hallway giggling like teenagers.

  ‘What’s up?’ I asked.

  ‘Nothing,’ they said, giggling even more.

  ‘Whatever,’ I said. ‘Be totally embarrassing. Don’t let me stop you. I’m going upstairs to do my homework.’

  They followed me upstairs and when I opened my bedroom door they were there to catch my bag as I dropped it to the floor.

  ‘Omigod!’ I gasped.

  The walls of my room were no longer muddy brown. They were painted in wide stripes of bright pink and white.

  ‘I got the paint cheaply,’ said Dad proudly. ‘It was left over after a big job.’

  The ugly carpet was gone, and the floorboards underneath had been polished until they shone. Next to the bed was a beautiful bright pink and white rug.

  ‘I made it myself,’ said Mum. ‘Out of scraps of fabric. My friend Deirdre showed me how.’

  I hugged them both until they begged for mercy.

  ‘We love you, Princess,’ said Dad.

  ‘I love you too,’ I said. ‘But, Dad …’

  ‘But what?’

  ‘You can call me Eva.’

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  For my thirteenth birthday, I didn’t have a pamper day in a big fancy hotel near my house. (For one thing, the big fancy hotel closed down months ago.)

  Instead, some of my friends came over to my place and we ate pizza (topped with the first of Mum’s homegrown tomatoes) and watched a DVD. Victoria was there of course, and Ella, and Amy and Chloe and a few other girls from my class. I invited Ruby, but she couldn’t come. She was taking part in a long-distance swimming competition.

  I didn’t get my hair highlighted for my party. I haven’t been able to afford highlights for ages and ages, and my old highlights grew out a long time ago. I didn’t have to go to my party looking like a swamp monster, though. Ruby’s sister Jenny, who’s a trainee hairdresser, came over in the morning and cut my hair for me, and tied it up so it looked really nice.

  I didn’t have a manicure either, but Victoria lent me some really nice nail varnish instead. We had fun painting our nails all kind of crazy colours.

  Mum made me a double-chocolate birthday cake, and even though it was a little bit lop-sided, it was totally delicious. When I blew out the candles, Dad kept making stupid jokes that weren’t even funny.

  In the end I pretended to be cross.

  ‘Make one more pathetic embarrassing joke and I’ll start to wish that you were away on a business trip,’ I said.

  Dad hugged me and pretended to be hurt.

  He kissed my cheek and I pretended that I thought that was gross.

  We were both very glad that he was there.

  Victoria slept over that night. It was a bit of a squash in my tiny bedroom, but we didn’t mind.

  When we put the lights out, we were quiet for a long time.

  ‘What are you thinking about?’ I asked after a while.

  ‘Nothing. What about you?’

  ‘Nothing.’

  I lay for another while, picturing our heads empty of thoughts – full instead of cotton wool or swirling grey smoke.

  Then Victoria gave a big sigh.

  ‘OK, I admit it. That was a lie. I was thinking about your party last year.’

  I joined her in an even bigger sigh.

  ‘Me too,’ I said.

  ‘An awful lot has happened to you since then.’

  ‘Tell me about it,’ I said.

  ‘It hasn’t been all bad, has it?’ she asked.

  ‘Hasn’t it?’ I asked, not really sure of the answer.

  ‘Of course not,’ said Victoria. ‘Think of all the interesting people you met this year.’

  ‘Like?’

  If Victoria wanted to be the optimist in this friendship, maybe I should make her work hard for the honour.

  She giggled.

  ‘Like Madam Margarita for starters. How is she anyway?’

  ‘Great. She seems really happy. She’s making heaps of jewellery.’

  ‘And you met Ruby this year.’

  ‘That’s true. And I forgot to tell you, she texted me earlier. She came second in her swimming competition. She says she might even join a swimming club if she keeps winning.’

  Victoria laughed.

  ‘She’d better be careful. If she goes on like this, soon she won’t be weird any more.’

  ‘And I got a postcard from Dawn yesterday. Remember the assistant in my class?’

  Victoria giggled again.

  ‘How could I forget? Did she ever find out how you helped her to escape?’

  ‘I don’t think so. I know she suspects something, but she can’t figure out exactly what happened. Anyway, she’s having a brilliant time in Peru, and then she’s going to Bolivia.’

  ‘That sounds so cool. And don’t forget, you met Ella this year too. She’s really nice. If you’d stayed in your old school you’d never have got to know her.’

  I nodded, which was probably a bit stupid as Victoria couldn’t see me in the dark.

  ‘You know her dad’s my teacher?’

  ‘You only told me about a thousand times.’

  I laughed.

  ‘Whatever. Anyway, guess what he wrote in my last report?’

  ‘What?’

  ‘He said “Eva is the most helpful girl I have ever had the pleasure to teach.”’

  Then we both laughed until our faces hurt.

  That’s the end of my story – for now.

  If this was a fable, this is the bit where I should be describing what I’ve learned during the last year.

  I should be saying that I now know that money isn’t everything – that even though I’m poorer than I used to be, I’m happier that I’ve ever been before.

  But unfortunately, life isn’t a fable, or at least my life isn’t anyway.

  Last week Victoria told me that soon she’s going on a trip to Venice with the Pony Club. They’re going to stay in a gorgeous hotel, have trips in gondolas, and eat yummy Italian ice-c
ream until it comes out their ears.

  I smiled and hugged her.

  I said that I hoped she had a totally fantastic time.

  And then I went home and threw myself on my lumpy bed and cried until I ran out of tears.

  One day recently I walked past my old house, Castleville. It was the first time I’d been there in ages. The electric gates were open, and I could see right inside.

  I looked up at my old bedroom. The window was half-open and I could see my mauve curtains fluttering in the breeze. I could see a little girl sitting on the window seat, combing her hair.

  She looked happy.

  Was I happy for her?

  No way!

  I felt like running in through the gates, and up the stairs. I felt hauling her from the window seat and shaking her. I felt like telling her that the joke was over – that it was my house and it was time for her to leave.

  How dare she steal my life and live my dreams?

  But I really don’t want to do time in a juvenile detention centre, so I turned my back on my beautiful old home. I walked up the road and after a minute I couldn’t stand it any more. I clenched my fists and kicked a wall as hard as I possibly could.

  It didn’t make me feel any better, and a week later, I still had bruises on my toes.

  So if this is a fable, it isn’t a very good one – the moral is that kicking walls when you’re wearing flip-flops really isn’t a very good idea.

  So maybe my life isn’t a fable, but could it be a fairy-tale?

  If this was a fairy-tale, this is the bit where I should be saying how a miracle happened and I got my old life back.

  If this was a fairy-tale, I should be once again living happily ever after in my old house, like the bad stuff had only been a terrible dream.

  But life isn’t a fairy-tale, or at least my life isn’t anyway.

  If this were a fairy-tale, the dad would be driving around in a golden carriage.

  My dad drives around in a battered old van. He has converted heaps of attics. He says no one can afford to move house any more, so when they need more space they have to call on someone like him.

  Dad doesn’t dream of golden carriages or fancy cars any more, but if business continues like this, he says he might be able to buy a better van next year.