Libby in the Middle

by Gwyneth Rees

  I half expected Tansy to say that if that were true then she shouldn’t have disappeared off to Africa for four months, but instead Tansy murmured, ‘OK, Mum,’ seeming only too pleased to have such a big fuss made of her.

  As we watched her mum walk down the drive and on to the street where she’d left her car I asked, ‘Did you tell her how bad you felt about her going away?’

  Tansy nodded. ‘It’s sort of difficult not to tell her how I feel about stuff. If I’m ever worried or in a bad mood about anything, she always picks up on it and asks me about it.’ Her eyes suddenly went a bit shiny with tears, as if she was finally letting herself feel how much she’d been missing her mum.

  ‘So what are you going to do now?’ I asked.

  ‘I don’t know. She really wants me to go back to Southampton with her.’

  ‘Can’t she move here instead?’ I suggested hopefully.

  Tansy shook her head. ‘Her job is there.’

  ‘What does your dad say about it?’

  ‘That it’s up to me.’

  Before I could say anything else she swiftly changed the subject. ‘Come on. Dad’s got something to show you. We need to tell him you’re here.’

  Five minutes later I was walking to the garage at the side of the house with Tansy, her dad and Aunt Thecla. I tried to sneak a look at my aunt to see how much she knew, but her face was giving away nothing.

  ‘I found some of my brother’s old things in here, Libby, and there’s something I’d like you to look at,’ Tansy’s dad said as he unlocked the garage door.

  Aunt Thecla suddenly placed her hand on my shoulder and said, ‘Michael wants to give this to your father because he thinks that’s what Murray would have wanted. I’m not so sure though. I wanted to see what you thought about it first.’

  I was certain then that I knew what it was they had found.

  ‘I’m sure Dad would love to have Murray’s cricket bat,’ I said without hesitation. ‘I think it would mean a lot to him.’

  ‘Oh, but we’re not talking about the cricket bat,’ my aunt said as Tansy’s dad opened the garage door and stepped aside.

  I just stared. Because there, standing among a whole lot of other junk, was a very old-fashioned and very rusty-looking motorbike.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  ‘It belonged to my uncle Murray,’ Tansy said, though of course I’d already guessed that much.

  ‘What do you think, Libby?’ Mr Godwin asked. ‘Will your father want it?’

  ‘Um …’ I couldn’t stop staring at the dirty black pillion seat, which was now cracked on the surface with the foam showing in places. I just couldn’t imagine Dad as a sixteen-year-old actually riding on it.

  ‘I told Michael this afternoon that I trust your opinion on this as much as anybody’s, Libby,’ Aunt Thecla added.

  ‘You do?’ To be honest it was a bit of a shock to be selected by my aunt for my opinion on something so important.

  ‘I wouldn’t say it if I didn’t mean it, Libby,’ she said impatiently. ‘So what do you think?’

  ‘Well, it’s a nice idea,’ I began slowly, ‘but Dad usually gets pretty freaked out about motorbikes. I’m not sure he’d actually want to own one.’

  ‘But this is a bit different, don’t you think?’ Mr Godwin said. ‘This has sentimental value. Besides, I’m sure it could be restored and sold for quite a bit of money if he didn’t want to keep it himself at the end of the day.’

  I looked at the bike again, wondering if Dad would see it as an old friend rather than just another dangerous motorbike that he didn’t want to let us anywhere near. I thought about how he never talks about his friendship with Murray, almost as if he doesn’t want to think about it because of all the painful memories. Maybe seeing Murray’s old bike would make him feel really sad. On the other hand, maybe seeing it would trigger some good memories from before Murray died. Maybe it would remind him of all the good times they’d had together.

  ‘I think we should probably tell him about the bike and let him decide if he wants it or not,’ I said.

  ‘You don’t think he’ll be upset?’ Aunt Thecla asked.

  ‘I do think he’ll be upset,’ I said carefully. ‘But maybe not just upset.’

  There was a bit of a pause. Then Mr Godwin said, ‘OK, Libby. We’ll tell your dad the bike’s here and that he can have it if he wants it. I just need to know one way or the other before I sell this house.’ As he spoke we saw a van pulling up outside.

  ‘Expecting someone?’ Aunt Thecla said.

  ‘Oh, that’ll be Bill from the garage. I phoned him about the bike this morning. I want to get his opinion on what state it’s in and he said he’d come by and take a look.’

  ‘Bill from the garage in the village?’ I asked in alarm.

  ‘Yes. He’s an excellent mechanic. My father swore by him.’

  ‘Do you know him, Libby?’ my aunt asked.

  But Bill was already walking up the drive towards us. I was panicking inside, hoping he wouldn’t recognise me or say anything about Sam. Thankfully he didn’t speak to any of us as his attention was grabbed by the bike.

  ‘It’s an old Bantam,’ he said as he started to look it over. When he tried the kick-starter lever we were all astonished when the engine actually worked. But as soon as he turned the handlebar on one side to rev it up it cut out.

  ‘I’m surprised it started at all,’ Tansy’s dad said. ‘It must have been sitting there for thirty years or more.’

  ‘I can take it to the garage if you like,’ Bill said. ‘I can do a bit of work on it, see if I can get it running.’ He glanced at me then. ‘It’s a job young Sam would’ve been interested in, I reckon. It’s a pity I didn’t have enough work to keep him on. A good lad, that one.’

  I gulped.

  ‘Wait … did you say Sam?’ Aunt Thecla asked sharply.

  Bill nodded. ‘That’s right – the young lad who’s been helping me out for the last couple of weeks. Pity he’s no family about here to look out for him. The lass here knows him.’ He looked at me with a twinkle in his eye. ‘But I’m guessing not as well as that older lass, eh?’

  ‘Umm …’ I felt myself blushing furiously. What on earth could I say now?

  ‘Elisabeth?’ Aunt Thecla’s voice demanded an answer. ‘This isn’t the Sam I’m thinking of, is it?’

  It did cross my mind that I could always ask which Sam she was thinking of. But in the end I decided there wasn’t much point.

  ‘He came here to be with Bella,’ I mumbled.

  Aunt Thecla was glaring at me. ‘Do your parents know?’ She narrowed her eyes even more. ‘Don’t bother to answer that. Of course they don’t.’

  Neither of us spoke as we walked back together – not after I made it clear that I wasn’t going to tell her anything else.

  ‘Where do you think you’re going?’ she demanded as I went to fetch my bicycle from out the back the second we got home.

  ‘To get some fresh air,’ I told her as I grabbed my helmet.

  ‘Not right now you’re not!’

  But I ignored her. I knew it was only a matter of time before the whole story about Sam came out, including where he was staying. The best thing I could do now was to go and warn him.

  I just hoped he’d be there this time.

  Nothing about the cottage had changed since this morning. The curtains were still closed and there was no sign of anyone there.

  This time I walked right up to the front door and banged on it as loudly as I could. ‘SAM! IT’S LIBBY! IF YOU’RE THERE, OPEN THE DOOR!’

  Straight away I heard a noise inside.

  ‘SAM! LET ME IN!’ I yelled impatiently.

  A muffled voice sounded from the other side of the door. ‘It’s not locked!’

  So I turned the handle and pushed hard and to my great surprise the door opened.

  ‘Sam!’ I called out crossly, but then I gasped.

  He was lying by the side of the staircase, bits of wood from the broken
banister scattered all around him. His right leg was bent at a strange angle underneath him and I could smell stale vomit where he must have thrown up. His face was white and his hair was stuck to his forehead with sweat. I realised with horror that he’d probably been lying there for a long time. In fact, he might have already been there when I was at the cottage that morning.

  ‘SAM!’ I could feel my heart pounding as I rushed over to him. Bella and I had forgotten to warn him about the dodgy railing. I felt terrible as I swiftly took out my phone.

  ‘Hey …’ He reached out and grabbed my wrist. ‘What are you doing?’

  ‘Calling my dad.’

  ‘No.’ He started to cough.

  ‘Sam, I have to call him.’

  ‘No!’

  ‘Dad will help you –’

  ‘Kill me … more like … Libby …’ He let his head fall back on to the floor again and started to moan. ‘I think my leg’s broken …’

  I glanced down at his leg again and thought that was highly likely. Then I checked my phone – and of course there was no signal! Plus there was no landline in the cottage and the couple next door was still away. That only left the end cottage with the very deaf old lady who never answered her door.

  ‘Listen, I’m going to walk along the road to try and get a signal,’ I told him. ‘I’ll be as quick as I can.’

  I was standing on the road trying to remember which direction I needed to head in to get a signal when I heard a car approaching. When I saw who it was I could have cried with relief.

  ‘Dad!’ I called out.

  As he was parking on the grass verge I rushed back inside to tell Sam. But instead of being relieved that he was about to be rescued he just looked scared. ‘Libby … seriously … don’t leave me alone with him. Promise.’

  ‘Sam, it’s OK,’ I said. ‘Dad gets mad sometimes but his bark’s worse than his bite.’

  ‘With you maybe,’ he mumbled.

  I quickly rushed back outside to find Dad stomping towards the front door. ‘Bella just told me everything,’ he said angrily. And he started ranting on about how he was going to kill Sam when he got his hands on him!

  ‘Dad, calm down …’ I began. ‘He’ll hear you!’

  ‘GOOD!’ he yelled. ‘SO WHERE IS HE?’

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  We went inside to find Sam slumped flat on the floor, white as a sheet, looking like he might throw up again any second.

  ‘What the –’ Dad gulped as he took in the sight, his rage gone in an instant.

  ‘I just found him,’ I said, fighting back tears. ‘Dad, I think he might have been like this all day. You have to help him.’

  Dad carefully stepped over the bits of broken wood. ‘OK, Sam … stay absolutely still … don’t try to move …’

  I sighed with relief, even though I hadn’t really doubted Dad would change his tune when he saw Sam like this.

  I stood back and watched while Dad crouched down, talking to Sam calmly the whole time, using the same voice he uses when he’s giving Grace instructions whenever she’s hurt or really scared. ‘Come on, son … deep breaths … I know it must hurt like hell but I’m going to call an ambulance and you’ll soon get something for the pain. Everything will be fine.’

  He laid a hand on Sam’s forehead as if he was checking his temperature, then he asked him if he’d bumped his head and had a quick check for any injury there. He looked at Sam’s leg but he didn’t touch it.

  Tears were running down Sam’s face but he wasn’t making a sound as he lay there as tensed up and scared as I’d ever seen him.

  ‘It’s a good job we found you,’ Dad grunted.

  ‘Before the rats did!’ I quipped, trying to get Sam to relax as Dad continued to check him over. ‘Don’t worry, Sam, you’re not hallucinating. Dad really is being nice to you.’

  Dad swore, and for a moment I thought he was reacting to my bad joke. Then I saw that he was swearing at his phone. ‘No reception,’ he muttered crossly. ‘I can’t risk moving him into the car with that leg. He needs an ambulance. Stay here with him, Libby, while I go outside and try to get a signal. I might have to drive down the road.’

  I nodded and Sam and I silently watched him go. I briefly wondered if I should hold his hand or offer to mop his brow but decided against it. After all, I wasn’t Bella.

  As if he could mind-read Sam asked hoarsely, ‘Where’s Bella?’

  ‘She wanted to come and find you but she’s grounded. She’s been trying to phone you. She thought you were ignoring her calls.’

  ‘I was … yesterday … wanted her to worry … but today …’ He started to cough.

  ‘It’s OK, Sam. I get it. She’ll understand.’

  I went to stand at the front door where I could watch for Dad. I also badly needed some fresh air. The smell of stale vomit was getting to me a bit. Sam had his eyes closed. He looked exhausted.

  ‘I can’t believe you ran away from home to be with Bella,’ I said, thinking I should probably keep him talking rather than let him go to sleep. ‘It’s pretty romantic actually.’

  He opened his eyes slightly. ‘She offered to come away with me instead,’ he muttered.

  ‘She did?’ I was astonished.

  ‘Yeah … can’t say my Bella doesn’t have guts …’

  ‘She’s not just your Bella,’ I grunted. ‘And Mum and Dad would never have stopped looking for her if she’d run away.’

  He nodded. ‘I know. That’s why I thought it was better if we did it this way round. Cos I don’t have that problem.’

  An hour later Dad and I were following the ambulance to the hospital in Castle Westbury. The paramedics had given Sam an injection to ease the pain but it had clearly hurt a lot when they’d splinted his leg to move him. It was only as he was being lifted into the back of the ambulance that he said drowsily, ‘What about my bike?’

  ‘What bike?’ Dad asked.

  ‘His motorbike. It’s hidden in the woods,’ I said quickly.

  Dad’s eyes narrowed but he kept his voice calm as he said, ‘Well, it can stay where it is for now. We’ll meet you at the hospital, Sam.’

  In the car Dad asked, ‘Has Bella been riding that bike?’

  I didn’t reply, which pretty much told him the answer. He shot me a glare, then set about extracting every shred of information from me that he could, including the length of time Sam had been in the cottage and whose idea that had been. When I asked if Sam would get in trouble for squatting, he said that if Mrs Fuller tried to kick up too much of a fuss then he would threaten to kick up a fuss about how she’d rented it to us in such a dangerous state in the first place.

  At the hospital we waited while a still drowsy Sam was seen by the triage nurse and then a doctor, who sent him for an X-ray and said that his leg was broken and that they would be putting it in plaster and admitting him for the night. Everyone kept assuming Sam was Dad’s son, and after a while Dad stopped bothering to correct them.

  ‘I’m going outside to phone your mum and Sam’s mother to let them know what’s happened,’ Dad told me as we waited for Sam to be brought back.

  While he was gone I really wished I could phone Bella myself. But of course Bella didn’t have her phone and Mum would be on the landline with Dad.

  ‘So did you speak to Sam’s mum?’ I asked Dad when he reappeared ten minutes later.

  ‘Yes.’ He sounded exasperated. ‘She says being in hospital is the perfect chance for Sam to apply to social services for emergency housing. Apparently that’s what she did herself when she was his age.’

  ‘So she’s not coming to see him?’

  ‘Doesn’t sound like it.’

  ‘You could try his uncle.’

  ‘I just did. He seemed more interested in the motorbike. Apparently Sam hadn’t finished paying him for it when he ran off and he wants it back.’

  Just then a nurse came to let us know that Sam was ready to go up to the ward. ‘But I still need an address for the admission form,’
she said.

  I looked at Dad as he jotted down our address in the space Sam had left blank. ‘Shouldn’t you put “no fixed abode” or something if he wants to apply for emergency housing?’ I whispered.

  ‘He isn’t fit to be on his own with that leg. He can sleep on the sofa bed in the living room until he’s better.’

  I was pretty amazed at his change of heart. I mean, I know Dad’s a good guy underneath all his huffing and puffing but still …

  Then he added, ‘And this way I can keep an eye on him – and Bella.’ He sighed. ‘You know … Thecla warned me a while back that I was underestimating how strongly they felt about each other … clearly I should have listened.’

  I felt like saying that of course he should have listened. Because weirdly enough Aunt Thecla has more experience than any of us when it comes to teenage romance.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  ‘So, Dad, does this mean you’re not too angry with Bella?’ I asked tentatively as we drove home.

  We’d spent an hour on the ward with Sam, helping him to settle in and making sure he had the stuff he needed. Dad went to the shop to buy him water and chocolate and some toothpaste because he’d run out while he was at the cottage. Sam looked like he was struggling not to cry at one point and Dad had patted him on the shoulder and told him to get some sleep.

  ‘Why would you think that?’ Dad grunted.

  ‘Well, you seemed OK with Sam … not angry with him any more, I mean.’

  ‘Sam’s in far too fragile a state to cope with my anger on top of everything else. Besides he’s been punished enough. Bella is a whole different story. She’s got all the family support she could possibly need and yet she’s done nothing but go behind our backs, causing trouble ever since we got here.’

  ‘She’s been really unhappy, Dad.’

  ‘Not as unhappy as she’s going to be. It’s time she learnt that it’s not just her feelings that matter in this family, Libby. When I think how we moved here so she could sit her exams next year at St Clara’s, and how she promised never to keep secrets like the bullying from us ever again … and how we trusted her …’