‘Ladies, ladies, bargain of the week,’ she called into the room. ‘A Jaeger skirt. Yes, the genuine article in perfect condition. None of your fake stuff here, only the best designer gear. What am I bid? We’re starting at fifty pence. Does anyone raise me? Ah yes, sixty pence in the corner . . .’
We were a good team and the money started coming in fast. Before I knew it, it was twelve o’clock. I’d been so distracted with the auction that I hadn’t noticed the girl sitting behind the table on the opposite side of the hall who was watching us with a smile on her face. She had white blond hair tied back, showing a stunningly pretty face. And she looked familiar. A few minutes later, the hall door opened and William went over to her and handed her a bottle of juice.
Huh, I thought. I knew there’d be a girl involved. I looked around for Lucy so I could tell her and saw her heading towards the cloakroom at the back of the hall. As TJ and Izzie were still busy with the auction which was proving a great success, I followed Lucy. I needed to tell someone that I’d been right about William.
‘I knew it,’ I said as I burst into the cloakroom.
‘Knew what?’ asked Lucy from the sink where she had started washing her hands.
‘William’s out there with a girl. I told you so. He isn’t Mr Super Do Gooder. He’s doing volunteer work to be with this girl. And she’s very pretty.’
‘So what’s wrong with that?’ asked Lucy. ‘You heard TJ saying part of the reason she’s here is to meet cute boys like William. But not William. I don’t think she fancies him. Between you and me, I think part of her thought that Luke might be here. I don’t think she ever really got over him, you know . . .’
‘Oh who cares about Luke. It’s William I’m talking about . . .’
‘But you don’t care about him,’ said Lucy. ‘Earlier you announced to the whole hall that you don’t fancy him? Or do you? And anyway, what’s wrong with doing some charity work to be with someone? You don’t have to be a saint to do it. I’m sure people get involved for all sorts of reasons. As long as the work gets done, that’s what counts in the end.’
‘I guess,’ I said and went back to the door and half opened it ready to go back into the hall. ‘It’s just – he could have found a better way to impress her.’
‘Who?’ asked Lucy.
‘William Lewis. God, Lucy, anyone would think that you’re not listening. There’s just something about him that I don’t trust.’
‘Maybe that’s because he’s a friend of Luke’s and you know that you can’t trust him after what happened last year.’
‘Maybe,’ I said. ‘I don’t know what it is about him but somehow . . . he annoys me. And if he only got involved with this volunteer lark to impress that girl then I think he’s sad.’
‘Maybe she got involved to be with him,’ said Lucy.
‘Maybe,’ I said. ‘Anyway, whatever. He’s annoying so I’m not going to give him even another moment’s thought.’
I opened the door properly to go back into the hall and who was standing in the corridor waiting to come into the cloakroom. William freaking Lewis.
‘Oh God, you again,’ I blurted before I could stop myself. It seemed that every time I turned round lately he was there.
‘Well pardon me for breathing,’ he said.
‘This is the Ladies,’ I said.
‘I think you’ll find that it’s the Anybody’s,’ he said. ‘There’s only one so it’s the Ladies and the Gents.’
‘Oh. Right. Whatever. How long were you standing there?’
William leant slightly towards me and I caught the scent of his aftershave. It was nice. Light and citrus. ‘Long enough,’ he said, ‘to know that I am annoying.’
Oh God, I thought. I’ve really blown my cool now. He overhears me twice in one day. Talk about unlucky.
‘Right. Sorry. Got to go. Previous engagement,’ I said as I made a dash back into the hall.
Buggero, buggera, buggerat, I thought as I made my way back to the table. I felt all mixed up. But why? What was going on with me? Did I secretly fancy William a bit? So secretly that not even I knew about it? No. That’s mad. But then I am mad. And I’d be mad not to fancy him as he has got gorgeous eyes and he smells nice. Maybe we’d just got off to the wrong start. Anyway, it’s too late. He’s got a girlfriend. And she’s gorgeous even though she looks slightly older than him. Do I mind? Nah. Yeah. Maybe. Oh I don’t know. I’ll think about it later. In the meantime, I have things to do. Bric-à-brac to sell. God, I wish I could scream but then people really would think I was barmy.
‘Need more stuff out?’ I asked when I got back to the others.
Izzie nodded. ‘There are loads more boxes under the table. Be great if you could get some of it out. Thanks. You could hand it up to me.’
I knelt on the floor and swivelled myself under the table and began to pull out the contents of the boxes and hand them to Izzie. It was nice to be down there and out of the way for a while. I think I’m better off not being let out in public at the moment, I thought as I surveyed the room from my strange vantage point. All I could see of people were their lower legs and shoes. Five minutes later, a pair of jeans and trainers appeared on the other side of the table. And a wheelchair. William’s legs, I thought. I recognise the trainers. I tugged the hem of Izzie’s jeans and shook my head so that she’d know not to let him know that I was under there.
It wasn’t much use as a moment later, William’s face appeared under the table as he bent down.
‘Hiding from anyone I know?’ he asked.
‘I wasn’t hiding,’ I said curtly as I crawled out and stood up. I was about to say something cutting but buttoned it when I saw that he was with the pretty girl from the other side of the hall and she was in the wheelchair. ‘And certainly not from . . .’
‘Eleanor,’ said William to the girl before I could finish, ‘I’d like you to meet – er, what was your name again?’ And he gave me an infuriating smile.
‘Nesta,’ I said to the girl. ‘Hi.’
‘And we’re Izzie, Lucy and TJ,’ chorused the others from the other end of the table.
I looked at William. Same high cheekbones, fine features. The penny dropped. Eleanor. Oh!
‘William’s sister?’ I asked.
Eleanor nodded. ‘Yep. That’s me.’
‘But you . . . you look familiar,’ I said. ‘Have we met before?’
‘Before this you mean?’ asked Eleanor indicating the wheelchair she was in.
‘Um, yes, no. I meant before today.’
‘Don’t think so,’ said Eleanor.
‘She might have seen you on stage,’ said William.
‘That’s it,’ Izzie interrupted. ‘You’re Eleanor Lewis. I saw you at Jackson’s Lane. You were totally brilliant. Remember, Nesta? The Snow Queen?’
‘God, yeah. You were amazing.’ It had been a Christmas performance of the ballet and Eleanor had danced the main role. I remembered her because not only was she stunningly pretty but her dancing had something special. I remembered thinking that she had the X factor and the write-ups in the local paper had thought the same, some even comparing her to Sylvie Guillem, who I think is the best dancer in the whole world. Eleanor was in the press for a while and then suddenly seemed to disappear.
‘What happened?’ I asked, presuming that she’d broken a leg or sprained an ankle while dancing or something.
‘Nesta,’ said Lucy. ‘Maybe it’s private. Excuse our friend, Eleanor. We call her Big Mouth.’
‘S’OK,’ said Eleanor. ‘She can ask. I got cancer.’
‘You what?’ I think my jaw dropped open. She just came out with it in such a matter of fact way, like she was telling us she had a sore throat or a sprained wrist.
‘Cancer. In the bones,’ she said and she looked at me straight in the eyes as if to see if I was going to look away.
‘God, how awful,’ I said looking straight back at her. ‘Are you going to be all right? Can it be treated?’
The other
s looked surprised but I really wanted to know.
Eleanor shook her head. ‘No. They’ve done what they can. Nothing left to try.’
‘But that’s so unfair . . .’ I blurted.
She shrugged and looked up at her brother. ‘Tell me about it. Yeah, but at least I can get my brother to do anything for me now, huh, Will?’
William nodded. ‘Just about.’
‘One of the good things about everyone knowing that you’re going to die is that no one can refuse you anything. Now when I go shopping, I can have whatever I want . . .’
‘You’re going to die?’ I asked and turned to William. I had a feeling that I was reacting in completely the wrong way but I was so shocked. I couldn’t help it.
William put his hand on Eleanor’s shoulder and smiled at her but I saw the pain in his eyes.
‘Yeah. Bummer, huh?’ said Eleanor. ‘Still, so are we all. It’s just I know that my time’s coming a bit before most.’
‘I’m so sorry,’ I said. ‘And I hope I didn’t offend you, just I’ve never met anyone with cancer before and they don’t teach us the “how to deal with a person who’s got cancer” lesson at school.’
‘Hey Nesta, don’t worry,’ she said. ‘Actually I like the fact that you came out and asked what you wanted to know. Some people, even those I thought were my friends, cross the road when they see me now. Can’t deal with it. Hah. How do they think I feel? So it’s refreshing when someone comes out with the questions that I know they’re dying to ask . . . Dying to ask – there’s a funny one.’
Just at that moment, William was called away by one of the ladies running the sale.
‘Won’t be long,’ he said to Eleanor then turned to me. ‘Keep an eye on her, will you?’
‘Sure,’ I said.
Eleanor looked at her wheelchair and held up her hands in exasperation. ‘Like there’s anything I could get up to in this thing. Give me a break, Will, I’m fine.’
‘Is there anything I can do?’ I asked when he’d gone.
Eleanor looked at me then over at her brother. Then her expression took on the same amused look that I’d seen on William’s face sometimes
‘Yeah,’ she said. ‘Cheer my misery of a brother up. He’s been a pain in the ass for months now. Anyone would think it was him that was ill.’
‘What! Me? Him? I . . . er, I don’t think he likes me very much.’
‘I wouldn’t be so sure,’ said Eleanor.
‘No. I am sure.’
Eleanor shrugged. ‘Well you did ask what you could do. I saw him watching you before and I . . . well I just have an instinct that you two would get along.’
‘Pff. Doubt it but OK. OK. I’ll try’ I said.
‘Cool,’ said Eleanor. ‘Just don’t let him know I asked you will you?’
Izzie, TJ and Lucy gave me the thumbs up from the other end of the table from where they’d all been listening to every word.
Cheer William up. Now that was going to be a challenge.
‘So now we know why he got involved in doing all this kind of thing,’ said TJ after William and Eleanor had gone.
The morning rush had faded and the hall had grown quiet. I felt all mixed up inside and judging by the looks on the other’s faces, the general mood was gloom. I was beginning to wish that I’d never got involved in doing volunteer work. It stirred up too many weird feelings and made me think about stuff I wasn’t sure I wanted to. Illness, death. I felt so helpless.
‘I just can’t believe it,’ said Izzie. ‘Eleanor Lewis. She’s so beautiful . . .’
‘Beautiful people get ill too,’ said Lucy.
‘But to know that you’re going to die so young, I can’t imagine it,’ I said.
‘It seems so unfair. She had such a brilliant future,’ said Izzie.
‘So does anyone who gets ill at her age,’ said TJ. ‘She’s what? Seventeen, eighteen?’
‘Just turned nineteen,’ said Mrs Owen who had been quietly sitting at one end of the table listening. ‘She’s been through a lot that one. She’s a brave girl.’
‘Do you know the family?’ I asked
Mrs Owen nodded. ‘I’ve known William, Olivia and Eleanor all their lives. I live on the same street and used to babysit them when they were young.’
‘So what’s going to happen to her?’ I asked. ‘I mean, how long has she got?’
‘A year. Maybe two,’ replied Mrs Owen. ‘You can never tell. Sometimes it’s very quick and sometimes people outlive all expectations.’
Poor, poor Eleanor, I thought. Poor, poor William. Poor Olivia. And their mum and dad. What must his parents be going through? I wondered.
‘This is what this is all about,’ said Mrs Owen, indicating the hall with a sweep of her hands. ‘These jumble sales, the shop. All the money goes to help the younger people with terminal cancer.’
‘Help them how?’ I asked. ‘Eleanor said that there was no more anyone could do.’
‘We can make them as comfortable as possible when they have to go through their treatment and . . . and at the end. All the proceeds of this sale will go to the Lotus Hospice.’
‘Is that like a special hospital?’ asked Lucy.
Mrs Owen nodded. ‘It certainly has all the equipment needed there and the drugs for pain relief like a hospital but it’s more than that. We try to make it as much like home as possible so that in their last weeks or days, they don’t feel like they’re in a hospital ward. They can get the care and medical attention they need but they can also have their family around them should they wish, eat together, spend time together. That’s the aim. A small wing with a kitchen, a living area and spare beds so that family or friends can stay over and they can bring in all their things – books, posters, whatever, and make it their own for their time there. William’s been a star and so has Olivia. Both of them have worked harder than anyone to raise funds because although we have one living area like that, we need another – sometimes more than one family has a need for the place at the same time. It can be so hard for family members to stand by and know that there’s nothing that they can do to save their loved one. At least with this, William can feel he is doing something.’
And I’d accused him of doing it to pull girls. And he’d probably heard. He must think that I am the worst person in the world.
‘There’s nothing else for it,’ I said turning to Lucy. ‘I have to apologise to William.’
Lucy nodded. ‘I think you should. And you have to cheer him up. Eleanor said so.’
‘Do you know if William will be back today?’ I asked Mrs Owen.
‘Later,’ she replied. ‘He’s gone to drop Eleanor home and then he’ll be back.’
Right, I thought. Apologise and commence Mission Cheer Up William. How in the world was I going to do that? I had no idea. I tried to put myself in his shoes and imagine that it was Tony who was ill, or one of my mates. I don’t think I could bear it, I thought as my eyes filled with tears at the very idea of anything happening to any of them.
Mrs Owen noticed my long face. ‘Hey come on, Nesta. No use in you getting all gloomy. It doesn’t help. My old dad always used to say that the birds of doom may fly overhead but there’s no need to let them nest in your hair. He was right. So. You know what you can do? Be happy. Enjoy your life to the best of your ability.’
‘It’s weird. Why are some people so well and have everything whilst others have such a hard time?’
‘Big question,’ said Mrs Owen. ‘Which is exactly why you should enjoy your life while you are well. All of it. Including all the trivialities of life. Be glad that you can.’
I nodded back at her, and attempted a smile.
Then the afternoon bargain hunters appeared through the doors, including one face that was very familiar. It was Miss Watkins, our PSHE teacher. No surprise there, I thought as she began to sift through one of the tables by the door. She always looks as if she dressed from the jumble in mismatched outfits that don’t really suit her. She’s a funny old bir
d. Strict as hell when she wants to be, but supportive and kind when she sees someone making an effort. Shame she doesn’t make an effort with her appearance. She has that wiry grey hair that seems to have a life of its own but I’m sure could look halfway decent if she had it blow dried. And she wears really old-fashioned glasses that make her look permanently shocked.
‘Oh well done, girls,’ she said coming over after she’d had a good browse round. ‘So good to see some of our pupils here. How’s it going?’
‘Good,’ said Lucy.
‘Yes, in fact Lucy’s set herself up as a style queen,’ I interrupted. ‘She could recommend a whole new image for you if you like.’
Lucy looked at me as if she’d like to kill me but I thought it was a brilliant idea.
‘New image? Me? Oh no, I’m quite happy,’ said Miss Watkins, causing Lucy to sigh with relief. Wacko Watkins has never been her favourite teacher.
‘And we were just saying that we thought that our school should do some fundraising,’ said TJ.
Miss Watkins chortled. ‘What planet are you on, Theresa Watts?’ she asked. ‘We do. Of course we do.’
‘No, we mean for charities,’ continued Lucy. ‘We know we do loads of fundraising for the school . . .’
‘But we do,’ Miss Watkins repeated. ‘And this is one of the main charities we support.’
‘Really?’ said Izzie. ‘How come we never knew about it?’
Miss Watkins gave us all her ‘how stupid can you get look’ (a look that she has clearly perfected through the years). ‘How come you never knew about it? Hmm. Maybe you weren’t listening. People often only hear what they want to hear. But oh yes, we do fundraising. Not that we couldn’t do a lot more. The meeting is on Monday nights after school. You’re all very welcome as we could do with some fresh blood.’
Lucy, Izzie, TJ and I looked at each other then we all nodded.
‘We’re in,’ said TJ.
‘Excellent,’ said Miss Watkins. ‘Now. What bargains have you got to show me?’
William came back at about two-thirty just as all the volunteers were beginning to pack up. He came straight over to me and pulled me to one side.
Mates, Dates and Diamond Destiny Page 6
