“How?”
“By posting nasty comments about me.” Amber sat on her bed, feeling a horrible mixture of sadness and shame. “It’s OK, I’ve taken the blog offline.”
Gerald frowned. “What does that mean?”
“She won’t be able to see it. No one will be able to see it.”
Gerald went over to the window and looked outside. “When I was your age I spent a lot of time gazing mournfully out of the window because of the horrible things people said about me.”
“What kind of things?”
“Poofter. Nancy-boy. Queer. Queer was an insult back then. Simply being gay was. Gay men routinely got attacked. Beaten black and blue just for loving another man. But do you know what I realized during all those hours of staring mournfully into space?” He turned to face her.
Amber shook her head.
“I realized that I had a choice. I could either let the bullies win – or I could make sure that I won. I could be proud of who I was and what I did and who I loved. And I could say, to hell with the imbeciles who would rather stew in their own hate like … like sour dumplings!”
Amber bit on her lip, unsure whether she was about to laugh or cry.
Gerald sat down on the bed next to her. “Don’t let the haters hurt you, darling. Don’t give them that power. Now, you know that my knowledge of the worldwide interweb thingy is about as detailed as a news report in the Sun, but surely there must be some way to stop people posting hateful things on your blogger.”
“Blog,” Amber corrected. “I can block her. But she’ll probably keep creating new accounts – or getting her friends to post for her.”
“Then keep blocking. But most of all, keep creating. Keep writing and reaching for better, darling. As our good friend Oscar would say: ‘We are all in the gutter, but some of us are looking at the stars.’ Keep looking at the stars. Don’t look at the gutter, and whatever you do, don’t listen to the guttersnipes.” Gerald placed his arm around her shoulders and Amber leaned into him.
“Thank you,” she whispered.
Daniel appeared in the doorway. “Hurry up, guys. I’m about to die of starvation here. Oh, is everything OK?”
Daniel sat down on the other side of Amber and both he and Gerald looked at her questioningly. She nodded. Because if it wasn’t OK right now, she felt certain it would be, with dads like these, supporting her like a pair of beloved book-ends.
* * *
“I can’t believe how dumb I’ve been,” Rose said, taking a swig from the bottle of wine.
“Me too.” Sky bit into a hot, salty chip. They’d come down to the canal to get away from the noise of the High Road and were sitting on a bench staring glumly into the dark water.
“Gee, thanks.”
“No, I don’t mean you. I mean me. I can’t believe how stupid I’ve been.”
“Yeah, but at least you had reason to believe the poet guy liked you. At least he actually asked you out. I’ve been crushing on someone who isn’t even attracted to my entire gender!” Rose passed the wine to Sky.
Sky leaned back on the bench and took a swig. She didn’t really drink alcohol and she didn’t normally like wine, but tonight it actually tasted quite good, warm and fruity. The perfect thing to wash down the chips and wash away her stress over Leon. You haven’t been stupid. You’ve been unlucky.”
“Yeah, story of my life.”
Sky sighed. She hated seeing Rose so defeated. It reminded her of the time she’d had to smuggle her to the safety of the houseboat to escape the internet storm over her photo. “Don’t worry. You’ll find someone.” Sky cringed. That sounded so pathetic.
“I don’t want someone, I want Francesca.” Rose stood up and looked at the sky. “Where the hell’s the moon when you need her?”
Sky followed her gaze. The sky was orangey-black from the light pollution, with not a single star visible. “It’s too cloudy.”
Rose sighed. “Great.”
“It’s still there, though.” Sky took another large swig of wine. And another. It seemed to get better with every mouthful. She was feeling quite light-headed now, her thoughts becoming hazy. “I know, why don’t we tell it to the moon? Why don’t we get how we’re feeling off our chests?”
Rose nodded. “OK, but it’s not going to be pretty.”
“It doesn’t have to be. It just has to be honest.”
“OK.” Rose took the bottle from her and had a drink. Then she stood in the middle of the darkened tow-path and looked up at the sky. “I’m really pissed off,” she said. “Like, so pissed off I could explode. How come whenever I try to do the right thing it always ends up being the wrong thing?” She took another swig of wine. “Why’s life so full of wrong turnings? Why…” She put the bottle on the bench and looked down at the ground. “Why couldn’t she have liked me the way I like her?”
Sky watched Rose. She looked so beautiful. Even in the darkness you could see the arc of her cheekbones and the bud-like outline of her full lips. There was no way she’d be on her own for long. If only she could see that too. Rose’s hair started to gleam silver. The moon was emerging from behind a cloud. “Look,” said Sky, pointing to it.
Rose looked up. “Wow.” She gazed at the moon for a moment. Then she sat back down on the bench and turned to Sky. “Your turn.”
Sky stood up and gazed at the moon too. Wispy black clouds were scudding across it. “I’m so disappointed he hasn’t called,” she said quietly, feeling really self-conscious.
“Hey, sister, how about a little more rage?” Rose said.
Sky laughed. “All right. I’m really, really pissed off that he didn’t get in touch when he said he would.” She felt anger building inside her. It felt good, better than the pathetic moping feeling she had been experiencing. “I mean, why tell a person you want to see them and that you’ll call them tomorrow if you don’t really mean it? What kind of loser does something like that?”
“Yes!” Rose cried.
Sky was on a roll now. The warmth from the wine was blending with her anger and making everything feel slightly blurred at the edges. “I can’t believe I fell for it. I can’t believe I was so stupid. I mean, he probably does this kind of thing all the time. He probably takes random girls to random Tube stations every day of the week. That’s probably his – his – thing! He’s probably been to every place on the goddam map.” Sky paused. Why had she said “goddam”? She never said “goddam”! She felt the sudden urge to giggle. But she mustn’t. She was telling it to the moon, godammit! “He’s probably written poems with random girls all over London. I should—”
A phone started ringing. Sky ignored it.
“And another thing…” She took a step towards the canal. The ground seemed to lurch slightly, as if she were on a boat. She started to laugh and turned to Rose. “It’s like the canal path’s a boat!”
“Hmm, I think maybe you need to sit down.”
“And drink more wine?”
“No! No more wine. You could answer your phone, though.”
“Is that my phone?”
“Uh-huh.”
Sky burst out laughing and went over to her bag. She pulled her phone out. “Oh no!”
“What?”
“It’s him!”
Chapter Twenty-six
“But why can’t I come with you?” Maali begged her mum.
“Because we don’t know what time they’ll be moving him. It might not be until this afternoon.” Her mum took a sip of her tea. A plate of toast lay cold and untouched on the table beside her.
Maali sighed. After yesterday’s news she desperately wanted to see her dad, but he was being moved to a specialist brain hospital and her mum didn’t want her getting in the way. She hadn’t quite said it like that but that was what she meant. Maali could tell.
“Maybe you can come and see him after school,” her mum said. “Hopefully he’ll be moved by then.”
“School?” Maali stared at her. How could she expect her to go into school
? “Mum, I don’t think I—”
“What?” Her mum got up from the table and tipped her uneaten toast into the bin. Her face was thin and pinched with worry.
“Nothing.”
Her mum came over and placed her hand on Maali’s shoulder. “I promise I’ll text you as soon as we know when he’s being moved.”
“OK.”
Maali set off for school like a zombie. The only way she could cope with the enormity of what was happening was to pretend that it wasn’t happening. To pretend that her dad wasn’t in hospital at all – that he was back home, getting ready to open up the shop, laughing and joking as usual with her mum. She came to a standstill outside the mosque. She couldn’t do this. It was too hard. It was too much to take. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Just keep taking one more step, a voice said firmly inside her head. Just one more step. Maali opened her eyes and took a step. And another. And another. And slowly but surely, one step at a time, she made her way to school.
Sky sat down at the form-room table, her mouth dry and her head pounding. For once, Vanessa wasn’t there first. Sky rummaged in her bag for a pack of mints. She was paranoid that when Vanessa did arrive she’d be able to smell the stale wine on her breath. She took her phone out along with her mints and placed it on the table. She’d let Leon’s call ring out last night. Rose had praised her for playing it cool and not picking up but the truth was, she’d felt anything but cool when she saw his name on the caller ID. She’d felt ecstatic. She’d also realized she was drunk and she hadn’t wanted him to hear her like that. She’d shoved her phone in her bag and pretended to Rose that she didn’t care, but as soon as she’d got back to the houseboat and seen the voicemail icon at the top of the screen, she’d been overjoyed. She’d played his message so many times that she knew it by heart.
“Hey, Sky-Blue, I was just wondering what you were up to Wednesday night. I’ve been invited to be a guest on a radio show about poetry and I wondered if you’d like to come along. Give me a call.” Then there was a couple of seconds’ silence before … “It’s Leon. Bye.”
Sky glanced around the room. Mrs Bayliss was busy helping someone with their homework. She should have time to play his message once more. She put her phone to her ear and tilted her head forwards so that her hair fell over it.
“Hey, Sky-Blue, I was just wondering what you were—”
“Is there some kind of emergency, Miss Cassidy?”
Sky jumped at the sound of Mrs Bayliss’s voice right behind her. She turned to face her, dropping the phone into her lap. “What? I – no…”
Mrs Bayliss held out her hand. “Give it to me.”
“What?”
“The phone.”
The class fell silent.
Vanessa came bursting through the door and crashed into the seat next to Sky.
“Give me the phone,” Mrs Bayliss said, looking straight at Sky.
Sky’s face flushed. “I can’t…”
“School rules, I’m afraid. If you use your phone in class it gets confiscated until the end of the day.”
“The end of the day?” Sky looked at her, horrified.
“Yes.”
“But I need to call someone,” Sky said, desperately trawling her hungover brain for some kind of excuse.
“I’m sure it can wait. Now give it to me, please.”
Sky gave Mrs Bayliss the phone. This sucked. How could they take away her personal property like that? It wasn’t as if Mrs Bayliss was teaching at the time. She hadn’t even taken the register yet. This was so unfair.
Sky scowled as Mrs Bayliss walked back to the front of the class.
“Bad luck,” Philippa whispered across the aisle to Sky with a sympathetic smile. A few of the other students were smiling sympathetically too.
“It’s best to go to the toilets if you need to use your phone,” Vanessa whispered. “That way they can’t see you.”
“Do you have something you want to share with us, Vanessa?” Mrs Bayliss snapped.
Vanessa shook her head. “No.”
“No, what?”
“No, Miss.”
Mrs Bayliss slung Sky’s phone into her desk drawer and locked it. Sky pictured Leon’s message locked in there too and she felt as if her head might explode from the injustice of it all.
* * *
Amber stood outside the school library looking for Sky. She’d texted her to come and meet here instead of their usual place but morning break had started almost ten minutes ago and there was still no sign of her. Maybe she wasn’t in today. Maybe she was taking another day off. Amber looked around inside the library but there was still no sign of Sky. Why did she have to be off today of all days? Amber could really do with her advice on how to deal with Chloe and the blog and, well, everything.
Sky paced up and down the corridor outside the canteen. There was no sign of Amber and she had no way of knowing if she was even in today, thanks to Mrs Bayliss confiscating her phone. She decided to go outside to get some fresh air. Hopefully if Amber was in she’d think to find her there. The sky was a slab of grey, like a concrete ceiling to match the concrete school below. Sky went around the side of the building to the path leading to the tennis courts. It was usually a lot quieter here and she needed to think. She wouldn’t be able to call Leon back until after school now. What if he took her silence as a no and invited someone else to go with him tomorrow? Going to a radio interview sounded so interesting. Why should Mrs Bayliss be allowed to take her phone and ruin her life like this? What if she had a genuine emergency? What if her dad needed to get hold of her? She marched further down the path, feeling angrier with every step. This place sucked so much and the worst thing was, she didn’t have a clue how to make it better.
Rose rolled onto her stomach and started scrolling through Netflix. Since waking up she’d binge-watched the last four episodes of Making a Murderer, and now she needed to find something else suitably grim.
She’d woken with a pounding headache from last night’s wine, which had done nothing to help lift the general malaise she was feeling about Francesca. Though she’d tried to drown her sorrows in the bottom of a bottle, that was Savannah’s party trick. Rose didn’t want to turn out like her; that would be her very worst nightmare.
Rose heard Savannah coming out of her bedroom across the landing and she coughed loudly, just so she’d know she was skipping school. Within seconds there was a knock on her door.
“Rose? Are you in there?”
Rose closed her laptop and sat up. She hoped it would be a quick telling-off this time. She didn’t have the energy for another of their fights. “Yeah.”
“Can I come in?”
Well, that was a first. She couldn’t remember Savannah ever having asked permission to enter her room, especially when she was mad at her.
“Yeah.”
Savannah came in. She was wearing leggings and a vest-top so tight you could see her ribcage jutting out. “Did you leave these in the kitchen?” She held out the container of cupcakes Rose had made for the stall. When she’d got home last night she’d dumped them on the kitchen counter before coming to bed. So no doubt Savannah was about to yell at her for leaving cakes lying around the place. She got out of bed and grabbed the box.
“Don’t worry, I’ll get rid of them.”
“What do you mean?”
Rose pulled a hoodie over her pyjamas and put on her slippers. “I’ll throw them in the outside bin. It’ll be like they never existed,” she said as she marched downstairs. This was so typical of Savannah. There was no mention of the fact that she hadn’t gone into school, but leave a goddam cake lying around and there was all hell to pay.
“Why are you throwing them out?” Savannah called down from the landing.
Rose stopped by the front door.
“Because that’s what you want, isn’t it? I forgot, OK? I got home late and I forgot the no-cake-in-the-kitchen policy.” She opened the door and nearly jumped out of her skin. Savannah’
s Vagina Vows buddy, Margot, was standing there draped in a floor-length, purple faux-fur coat. She was beaming so widely Rose could see all of her fillings.
“Good morning!” Margot boomed. “Is your lovely mother there?”
“No,” Rose muttered, “but my selfish mother is.”
“I beg your pardon?”
“Nothing. Go on in.” Rose left the door open and stalked over to the bins. What had she been thinking, making the Spitalfields Surprise cupcakes? It wasn’t her cake stall. It wasn’t her place to create a new cake. That was up to Francesca. Beautiful, passionate Francesca. Rose shuddered at the image of Pierre pawing at Francesca with his chunky, hairy hands. Eew. Gross. She lifted the lid of the bin and threw the whole box in.
“Rose!” Savannah cried from the front door.
“What?” Rose stared at her. Surely she didn’t want to have a fight out here and in front of Margot.
“I didn’t want you to throw them out.”
“What were they?” Margot said, staring at the bin.
“Nothing,” Rose said, pushing past them into the house and running upstairs to her room. “They were nothing.”
When the school bell finally rang for the end of the day it was like the starting pistol in a race. Sky leapt from her desk and rushed to her form room. What if Mrs Bayliss wasn’t there? What if she’d gone home already and her phone was still locked away? But she was there, hunched over her desk, marking a huge pile of books that teetered next to her.
“I’ve come to get my phone,” Sky said, standing in front of her desk.
Mrs Bayliss looked up. The make-up she’d been wearing at the start of the day had smudged away and wisps of her grey hair had worked their way loose from her bun. She looked really, really tired. “Ah, yes,” she said with a sigh. She took a key from her jacket pocket and opened her desk drawer. “I hope you understand why I had to confiscate it.”
“Not really, no,” Sky said. Then, realizing Mrs Bayliss was holding the phone and could lock it away again at any moment, she added, “But I guess it’s the rules.”
Tell It to the Moon Page 16
