by Natasha West
And eighteen months ago, when Megan had stated the most terrifying thing she’d ever had to say to a person, Phoebe had listened.
‘Phoebe?’ Megan had begun as they watched the telly in Megan’s front room. The house was empty, no one was back from work yet.
‘Yep?’ Phoebe answered distractedly as she switched through the channels until she found Sabrina the Teenage Witch. They were way too old for the show now but they’d always watched it together and somehow, they still did. ‘I’ve seen this one, she accidently casts a spell on someone.’
‘That’s what happens every episode’ Megan said briskly. ‘Pheebs, can I talk to you?’
Phoebe realised there was an atmosphere in the room she’d missed and she span to face Megan. ‘Is something wrong?’
‘No. Or I hope not, anyway.’
‘Is it Kelly? Is she having a go at you again?’
‘No. I mean, yeah. But only the standard amount. Just listen, would ya?’
Phoebe was annoyed by the tone but she duly placed her hands together on her lap and waited as she watched Megan opening and shutting her mouth, trying to spit something out. After about twenty seconds, Phoebe’s anxiety began to rear its head. Megan never struggled to say anything. That was part of her charm. She was a mouth on legs. What if it was worse than the usual things that might be wrong. What if….
‘Have you got cancer?’ Phoebe cried out.
Megan’s eyes sprang wide and she burst out laughing. ‘Bloody hell, Phoebe. No! I’m gay.’
Phoebe sighed with relief. ‘Thank god for that. Scared me for a second there.’
Megan frowned. ‘Wait, why aren’t you surprised? You’re supposed to be shocked.’
‘Oh’ Phoebe said. ‘Well, alright. Yes, I suppose I’m not… un-surprised. It’s just that next to cancer, it doesn’t seem like too big a deal.’
‘No one said cancer, Phoebe. I don’t know where you got that from.’
‘Don’t you remember that programme that used to be on ITV, Children’s Ward? People our age got cancer left, right and centre. I think about that all the time’ she lamented. And then she realised she’d just ridden roughshod over what, for Megan, was probably quite a big moment. ‘So, you’re a lesbian, then?’
Megan nodded. ‘It would appear so.’
‘Right, OK. Well, that’s great’ Phoebe said cheerfully.
Megan tutted. ‘Don’t do that.’
‘Do what?’
‘The whole middle class liberal ‘Yay for gay’ thing.’
‘I can’t help being middle class’ Phoebe protested. ‘I was born that way!’
‘I just mean, don’t automatically say it’s good. Think about it. Give me a real reaction.’
Phoebe sat back on the sofa, considering. So Megan was gay. She supposed it made sense. She’d never taken much interest in boys. And although Phoebe wasn’t exactly a raging nymphomaniac, she had at least kissed a boy before, when she was fifteen. Steven Morris from band. They’d kissed four times and then Phoebe had realised that although it was her first experience with kissing, he wasn’t very good at it. So she’d left him a note in his locker saying she just wanted to be friends. They never spoke of it again.
She’d told Megan, of course. She’d seemed to react a bit oddly but Phoebe had put that down to the fact she hadn’t kissed anyone yet, and Megan hated getting left behind. But maybe it hadn’t been that. Maybe she’d been going through her own thing, wanting to kiss girls.
But how did Phoebe feel about it? She needed to ask further questions.
‘Have you kissed any girls?’ Phoebe asked.
‘No’ Megan answered quickly, flushing.
‘What’s your type? Anyone in our year?’
‘Definitely not.’
Phoebe wasn’t making a lot of progress but she was in for a penny now.
‘What about celebrities? Who do you fancy?’
Megan sighed. ‘I don’t know.’
‘Oh, come on. I know there’s got to be someone.’
‘Fine. I suppose I like Gillian Anderson a bit.’
‘From The X-Files?’ And then Phoebe said ‘Aaahh. That makes sense.’
‘Why?’
‘Your room is covered in X-Files posters’ she said and then began to laugh. ‘I always thought it was David Duchovny you liked.’
Megan snorted. ‘That’s what everyone was supposed to think’ she said, joining Phoebe in her laughter, knowing it was all fine with her. And after that, it was just a fact. Megan liked girls. It didn’t change a thing. If anything, Megan felt closer to her friend, the truth binding them tighter.
But now Megan was being forced to say goodbye to all of that. And it was just too much to deal with.
And then she’d seen an ad. ‘Entertainers and musicians wanted.’ It was terrible hours and awful pay. But it had spoken to Megan. From the start, it had been something she wanted to do with Phoebe. If Phoebe didn’t want to do it, she wouldn’t either. Watching Phoebe consider the crazy plan, Megan was pretty sure that was going to be the outcome.
‘Yeah, alright’ Phoebe said.
‘Eh?’ Megan said, amazed.
‘You’re right. It might be fun.’
‘But you don’t like fun. You’re always saying that.’
‘You just talked me into it. Why are you trying to talk me out of it again?’ Phoebe asked, irritated.
Megan shook herself. ‘You’re right. So you’re in, no backsies?’
Phoebe nodded, surprised at herself as much as anyone. But if Megan wasn’t going to be around for the next two months, what kind of summer could it really be anyway? She’d follow Megan into the breach one last time, if that was all she could get. ‘No backsies.’
Ten
‘Kelly, get out, would you?!’ Megan yelled at her Step Mum as she stood in front of Megan’s wardrobe, poking about.
‘You’ll thank me for this one day. When you end up meeting some boy at Dinkles, you’ll be glad I helped you choose something pretty.’
Megan rolled her eyes as she reached past Kelly, grabbing handfuls of clothing at random and slinging them into her case. ‘I don’t need your help with boys, thank you.’
Kelly, never one to accurately read a room, sat down on the end of Megan’s bed. ‘Does that mean you already have a boyfriend?’
Megan was tempted to come out to Kelly there and then, just to see the look on her stupid face. But in the end, she decided that outing herself for pure spite might not be the way to go. She hadn’t been able to talk to her Dad about it yet. She wasn’t about to let Kelly scoop him.
‘Yes, Kelly. I have a boyfriend’ Megan said with deep sincerity.
Kelly gasped with delight. ‘Tell me all about him!’ she demanded.
‘Alright but you can’t tell anyone’ Megan explained. ‘You see, it’s Peter Andre and we’re trying to keep it quiet because the paparazzi would be all over us.’
Kelly’s brow set in a hard line. ‘Fine. Don’t tell me. But it’s very silly of you not to use me as a source of information on this sort of thing. I’ve had a lot of experience with boys.’
‘So the graffiti on the public toilet walls is true?’ Megan mocked.
Kelly stood with a fatigued exhalation. ‘I don’t know why you have to be like this. Sometimes I can understand why your Mother left.’ And she walked out.
Megan watched her stepmother’s back disappearing down the stairs and mouthed ‘Fuck you’ at it. She went back to packing, but her mind wasn’t on it. She was imagining punching Kelly in the throat.
Minutes later, Megan’s Dad, Kevin, appeared in her doorway. ‘What did you say to Kelly?’
Megan’s mouth fell open in shock. ‘What did I say?’
‘Yes. She said she was trying to help you pack and you were giving her attitude.’
Fury ran through Megan’s veins. ‘Would you like to know what she said to me?’
‘What?’ Kevin asked, tiredly.
Megan suddenly realised that to tell her Da
d what Kelly had just said, she was going to have to bring up She of Whom They Did Not Speak. ‘Doesn’t matter’ Megan said, going back to her packing.
‘Look, you’re going away for a while. Do you really want to part with Kelly on bad terms?’
‘I don’t really care what terms we part on. I’m not the one who married her’ Megan said as she tried to zip up the case. But it was too full, she couldn’t get the zip to go.
‘That’s right. I did’ Kevin said. ‘Because you’ll be out of the house soon enough and then I won’t have you anymore. I’d be alone without Kelly. Would you prefer that?’
Megan knew her Dad had her in a classic headlock. There was no way out. Except, of course, sarcasm. ‘Do you think you can emotionally blackmail me once I’ve finished packing? Phoebe’s Mum’s gonna be here any minute.’
Kevin walked into the room. ‘Sit on it’ he said, looking at Megan’s case. Megan jumped onto the case and her Dad pulled the zip around, getting it closed. Megan got off the case and slid it off the bed, standing it up. ‘Thanks’ she said begrudgingly.
Kevin grabbed hold of her in a hug, to which she submitted somewhat unwillingly. ‘Gonna miss you’ he said. ‘Don’t get into any trouble.’
‘Not much chance of that with Phoebe. She’s allergic to rule breaking.’
A car horn honked impatiently from the street. Kevin reluctantly released Megan. ‘Go on, then. Get off.’
Megan ran from the room, calling ‘Bye! Love you! Don’t let Kelly touch my shit!’
Megan slipped into the backseat of Alice Fitzgerald’s car. It smelt very new back there, as though it had just rolled off the production line. It was the only new car Megan had ever been in. Her Dad’s cars were always second, third, fourth hand.
‘Good morning, Megan’ Alice said. But somehow, she sucked any warmth from the greeting.
‘Hi, Mrs Fitz’ Megan said, aware that the woman hated having her name abbreviated like that. But the stick up Phoebe’s Mum’s arse was magnetic to her. She couldn’t help poking at it.
‘You all packed?’ Phoebe said, turning around from the front.
‘No’ Megan said, acerbically. ‘This case is full of coke.’
‘I know you’re kidding but I wouldn’t actually be surprised if you did that’ Phoebe replied, tossing a smile to the back.
‘Girls, hope you’re taking this trip seriously’ Alice suddenly chipped in.
‘We are’ Phoebe told her.
‘I hope so, Phoebe. It’s your first time away from home. There’s going to be a lot of… Well. You know.’
Megan was confounded by the mysterious comment and although it wasn’t directed at her, she simply had to know what was meant by it. ‘A lot of what?’ she asked, before Phoebe - who was praying her Mother hit a pothole, a telephone pole, even a person, anything to stop the direction of this little chat - could stop her.
‘A lot of boys’ Alice finished.
Megan smirked to herself. Apparently everyone was getting the birds and bees talk this morning. ‘Don’t worry about that, Mrs Fitz. If any boys come at Phoebe, I’ll throw myself in front of her, beat them with a stick. She’ll be fine.’
Alice ignored Megan. ‘I’m just saying, it would be very easy to make a mistake there.’
Phoebe, who had not wanted to engage with this and especially not with Megan listening, found that she was now annoyed enough not to care about the embarrassment factor. ‘What does that mean?’
‘It means that I wouldn’t want you to do something you’ll regret because it’s your first time away from home and you’re not in… Not in the kind of company you’ll be in at music school.’
Phoebe glanced back at Megan. Her facial expression hadn’t changed a jot but Phoebe could read her anyway. It was all in the eyes. Megan was hurt. ‘Mum. Don’t be rude’ Phoebe scolded.
‘Megan understands it’s not personal, don’t you?’ she said, glancing at Megan through the rear-view mirror. She said nothing so Alice continued. ‘Megan’s not focused like you are, that’s all I mean. I’m sure she’ll find her path. But you’re already on it’ she said with a sharp look at her daughter. ‘I wouldn’t want that to get derailed. That’s all.’
Phoebe wanted to die. But not before she’d murdered her Mother first. ‘That’s… That’s…’
‘S’alright, Pheebs’ Megan said quietly. ‘She’s right. I’m a directionless loser.’
Alice gasped aloud. ‘Megan, darling, that’s not at all what I mean-’
‘Maybe you should stop talking now!’ Phoebe said angrily. Her Mother looked shocked and with good reason. Phoebe had never talked to her Mother like that before. If she hadn’t felt so bad for Megan, she would have enjoyed the way her Mother had indeed shut her snobby mouth.
But glancing at Megan, there was no room for delight. Megan looked crushed.
An hour later, Megan and Phoebe were on the coach to Penkness, a cold goodbye from Alice having been dispensed with. As they got comfy, Phoebe turned to Megan. ‘I’m really sorry.’
Megan clicked her belt in, glancing at Phoebe. ‘If you’ve farted, it hasn’t hit me yet. Shouldn’t be so quick to apologise, you might get away with it next time-’
‘Meg, stop. You know what I’m apologising for. My Mum was completely out of order. She’s just angry I’m doing this. She didn’t want me to go so she’s taking it out on you.’
Megan shrugged the apology off. ‘It’s fine. Let her think what she wants. Why should I care?’
But Megan wasn’t careless at all. Alice Fitzgerald’s comments had wounded her more than she would have liked. It chimed too closely with what Kelly had said this morning. Kelly had implied she was too much for her Mother. Mrs Fitzgerald thought she wasn’t good enough to be friends with her daughter. It all added up to the same thing. Megan was lacking, plain and simple.
Phoebe didn’t know exactly what was going around Megan’s head but she had an idea it was something dark. How could it not be? Phoebe wanted to deal with her Mum’s horridness properly, to rid this day of her snobbish ghost. But she could see that Megan didn’t want to talk about it. And when Megan didn’t want to talk about something, it didn’t get talked about. Phoebe would have to let it go. So instead of opening her mouth, she opened her hand, grabbing Megan’s. Megan let her do it and they held onto each other for a few seconds, letting go as the coach pulled out of the car park.
‘Dinkles…’ Megan said to her friend with an easy smile, her usual indifferent exterior haphazardly put back in place. ‘You don’t know what’s about to hit you.’
Phoebe smiled back and then they were on the road, to Penkness, to their last summer together. Neither Megan nor Phoebe knew how to feel about it but they tried to be excited for what lay ahead, whatever that might be.
Eleven
Phoebe staggered into the tiny bedroom she was sharing with Megan, less than fresh from her first day at Dinkles. She’d been rehearsing all day and then gone straight into a set and even though Phoebe was no stranger to hard work, she was knackered out.
Megan was already in the room, laying on top of the covers of her small bed, staring at the ceiling, also in a state of exhaustion. She was wearing a Supergirl costume, her cape dangling off the bed. ‘I’ve only got one thing to say today and I vow it in blood. I’m NEVER having children.’
Phoebe sat down on the single bed opposite. ‘No?’
‘It’s not that they’re horrible or anything. It’s just that they have so much energy. The twins were only a couple of years younger than me, I didn’t realise how bananas kids under ten are. They never stop. And they don’t want you to, either. ‘Megan, let’s dance.’ ‘Megan, let’s play hide and seek!’ ‘Megan, can I poke you in the eye six times?’
‘Well, you should see forty drunk adults dancing to ABBA covers. Not great’ Phoebe complained as she slipped off her shoes. Her feet were killing her. She didn’t care what the rules said, tomorrow she was going to work in trainers.
Megan turned her head to
look directly at Phoebe. ‘Sorry, mate.’
‘What for?’ Phoebe asked, confused.
‘I thought this was going to be fun.’
Phoebe smiled and fell back on her bed. ‘Don’t apologise. I kind of had a feeling it was going to be like this.’
‘Did you? Well, I wish you’d told me.’
‘But then I would never have gotten to watch you singing ‘Old McDonald’ to a bunch of hyperactive toddlers, would I?’
‘Oh shit, did you see that?’ Megan moaned.
‘I particularly liked your impression of a duck. Very authentic.’
Megan sighed, long and deep. ‘There’s a coach home in the morning. We could-’ A shoe suddenly hit Megan in the leg. ‘Ow! What was that for?’
‘We’ve been here a day. We’re not quitting.’
‘But it’s awful!’
