by Beale, Fleur
Friday morning and the last day of term. Didn’t see either of the parents or the brother. Ran to meet my friends on our corner. Lizzie danced around and the other two wore huge grins. ‘You can stay! Mum says yes!’
We hugged and yelled and did no work all day. The relief of it. I hadn’t realised I’d been so worried. I spent interval with Seb but didn’t tell him about the island. Why waste good time on something that wasn’t going to happen? Then I wondered if I should tell him because it would be so much easier to be together when I was staying at Lizzie’s. Interval ended before I had made up my mind.
We went back to Jax’s house after school because her mother would be at work. Didn’t do much, just hung out. The rule was that I had to be home by six. I got home at seven. Mum didn’t show. Noah of course was where he always was — absent. Dad was as well, so what was new?
I heated my dinner in the microwave and shut myself in my room. I was not going to spend twelve shitty months on some idiot island and that’s all there was to it. End of story. However, I felt it’d be strategic to keep out of Dad’s way on the grounds that if he didn’t see me he couldn’t bombard me with reasons why this would be the best thing ever for me, how it would be the making of me and how I’d look back on it as one of the defining moments of my life when I was old. Except I wouldn’t live to be old because I’d die of boredom and a broken heart, which he obviously hadn’t allowed for.
What I hadn’t allowed for was his sneakiness.
Saturday morning at some undefined but definitely uncivilised hour:
Dad: (makes huge noise at my bedroom door)
Me: (disappears under blankets, pillow and ancient teddy bear)
Dad: (flings open door, thunders in, dumps something on the floor, pulls blankets etc. away from my head, shouts) Breakfast, Min. You want to eat it or wear it?
Me: Go ’way piss off it’s still night.
Dad: The TV woman’s coming in fifteen minutes. She’ll have a camera crew with her. You want her to talk to you here or in the lounge?
That got my attention. I shot upright, all the better to yell and glare and throw things — with a bit of luck he’d end up wearing the breakfast he’d so kindly (huh!) brought me.
I yelled. I glared. I yelled some more.
He just grinned and said, ‘She’s due at ten.’ He looked at his watch. ‘You’ve got fourteen minutes.’
‘Dad!’ He barely paused in the doorway, but I kept yelling anyway. ‘I am not talking to anybody because I am not going to any island ever, except maybe Fiji or Tahiti. Understand?’
‘Thirteen minutes, and they’ll have my permission to come in here with the cameras,’ was all the answer I got to that.
I toyed with the idea of staying right where I was. I didn’t really think he’d let a camera crew loose in my bedroom, but then again, he was apt to go a bit crazy when he got his mind fixed on some dumb project and right now he had a fanatical gleam in his eye.
I got up. I ate my breakfast (toast, cereal and fruit, the preparation of which hadn’t caused him to break out in a sweat). At five minutes to ten, I jumped in the shower. I took my time. At 10.48 I wandered out to the lounge — hair gleaming, make-up immaculate and my outfit showing very clearly that I was a city girl, not some conservation bunny. I wore the low-cut jeans my grandmother Hargreaves loathed. My earrings reached my shoulders, and my black top showed off my figure.
Dad grinned at me. ‘Well, that’ll make an impact on the screen.’
I shrugged. ‘It’s immaterial, because I am not going to be part of your idiot scheme.’ And anyway, as far as I could tell, the telly chick hadn’t waited around.
I turned my back on him and phoned Jax because she was the only one of my friends who’d be out of bed at this time on a Saturday. I’d hardly got started when Mum showed up. ‘Is that woman here yet?’
Dad shook his head. ‘She’s due in five minutes.’
That penetrated my conversation with Jax. ‘My father is a conniving liar,’ I told her.
Then the doorbell rang and the room filled up with a red-headed woman called Cara, a guy toting a camera and another with a fistful of lights.
‘Gotta go,’ I told Jax.
‘Mum!’ I said. ‘I am not doing this. I’m not going to that island. Doesn’t Dad get it?’
She rubbed her head. ‘I’ve told Wes I’ll listen to what Cara has to say.’ She gave me a look that said cool it and behave yourself. ‘It won’t commit us to anything to listen, Min.’
I gave her a look that said You can’t fool me. I know you hate this idea as much as I do. She looked pretty haggard, like she’d been up all night worrying about it. How dumb was that? Just say no. Dead simple.
The man with the lights took his time. Cara, who didn’t bother introducing us to the two guys, flitted around being gracious and patronising to Mum and oozing charm at Dad.
All right, I thought, I can do this — I too can ooze charm and graciousness, and if I chucked in a dash of maturity and intelligence it wouldn’t hurt. When they’d finally fussed enough, I was ready for them. I sat down. I fixed a picture in my head of Seb watching the film, and I smiled.
I asked intelligent questions carefully phrased as hypothetical hypotheses.
1. Would there be a camera crew on the island too? (No, we’re going to train you, Minna, to be the cameraman.
Me: You mean, you would train me if I went.
Cara: Yes, Minna. That’s what I said.)
2. Why would we have to be there by ourselves? Why wouldn’t you let friends visit? (Because, Minna, part of the interest is in seeing how a family copes with isolation.)
3. Doesn’t the island get visited by boaties and yachts? (No, Minna — it’s very steep and there’s no access down to the one small beach.)
4. I think it’s cruel to expect a modern family to live without electricity. (There’s solar power and it works the fridge, freezer, washing machine and radio.)
5. So there’s email, phones and telly? (No, Minna. Part of the appeal of the programme is to assess how a family deals with the isolation.)
‘I see.’ I smiled at her. ‘That’s all been most helpful. Thank you and I have no more questions.’ I’d be willing to bet everything that this whole brilliant idea was all hers — she looked to me like a reincarnation of a medieval torturer.
Mum took over. ‘I’m ninety-eight per cent certain I’m going to refuse to do this.’
Cara smiled her patronising smile, while mine was more of a relaxed one tinged with triumph.
‘Do you have any questions anyway?’ Cara asked.
‘No,’ said Mum. ‘I don’t.’
Dad just didn’t get it. When they’d all packed up and gone, he said, ‘Well, what do you think? Doesn’t it sound like just the most amazing opportunity?’
Mum gave it to him straight. ‘I’m not doing it, Wes. It’s outrageous.’
I cheered.
Dad didn’t seem too worried. ‘We don’t have to give them a definite answer till Monday. Think about it, Liv. That’s all I ask.’ He grinned at her. ‘Noah’s keen. You’d be depriving him of a life-enhancing experience.’
Life enhancing? He had to be joking.
I decided to go over to Jax’s house but, of course, we had to do the whole drama of where was I going and could I be trusted first.
‘Just put a tracking device on me, why don’t you?’ I shouted.
‘Believe me,’ said Mum, ‘if I could, I would.’
I escaped in the end but only after she’d checked that there really was a water polo tournament that Seb might be in. She rang the pool and asked which teams were competing. I couldn’t believe it. I slammed out of the house and ran all the way through the rain to Jax’s house.
Addy and Lizzie turned up halfway through the afternoon and then we all beat it because Jax’s mother was stressing about the loud music and please don’t wear so much make-up and talk about boys, you’re such a negative influence on the little girls, who as far as I coul
d tell really liked a bit of negative influence mixed in with their mother’s organic, GM-free, family-values lifestyle.
‘BeauTox,’ said Lizzie.
‘And I’m having chocolate,’ I said. ‘I need it to compensate for a stressful morning.’
‘It’s going to be okay, though?’ asked Addy. ‘I mean, your mum hates the idea too, doesn’t she?’
I nodded. ‘Thank goodness. But I won’t feel really safe until we get past Monday.’
Lizzie scoffed, ‘Get a grip. What can happen between now and Monday?’
The three of us yelled at her. ‘Don’t say that,’ Jax added. ‘It’s tempting fate.’
Lizzie spread her hands. ‘Look, it’s no drama either way because Min’s going to stay with me if they do go.’
We calmed down and discussed whether I should tell Seb. ‘Nothing to tell,’ said Lizzie. ‘Leave it.’ She was so sensible — if only I could be that controlled and on top of things.
Dad didn’t show for dinner that night until after I had eaten, and Mum had played around with her food yet again. Noah was at work. He came home stoned and happy. Couldn’t Mum see it? I shrugged. None of my business.
Sunday rolled around. I lay in bed dreaming about Seb. He’d be getting over a hangover right now so I’d wait for him to call.
My phone went. But it was Lizzie, not Seb. ‘I’ve got this cool idea!’
I listened and as I did, my gut tightened. This was it. This was the day. I could do it. It was time. ‘Come over to my house,’ she said. ‘Then, when S rings, you’ll be sweet.’
‘Okay,’ I said, and my voice came out croaky. ‘Okay, I’ll do it.’
Mum thought the tournament was for the whole weekend, how dumb was that?
I didn’t do the clothes and the make-up this time. I learn from my mistakes. Mum scanned me from top to bottom and sideways. ‘Very well, Min. But be home by six.’
For form’s sake, I yelled and did the you don’t trust me you’re such a cow routine before I took off out the door.
The rain had stopped but it was now blowing from the south, as cold as my mother’s heart. I ran all the way to Lizzie’s which is up a hell-high hill, but when I got there, I couldn’t sit still. She smiled at me. She understood.
She made us sandwiches for lunch. I couldn’t eat anything. My phone rang twice:
Addy: Can’t come over. Going shopping with Mum.
Jax: Can’t come over. Have to babysit the kids.
Usually we went and hung out at her house when that happened. ‘Lizzie and me’ll come over,’ I said.
Lizzie grabbed my phone. ‘Sorry, Jax. We can’t. Important things happening.’ She rolled her eyes and told Jax that today was when it was all going to happen.
I grabbed the phone back. ‘Yes, we can come over. We’re on our way.’ I hung up and headed for the door.
Lizzie caught me up. ‘Fine for you! Seb’ll call. You’ll be off and leave me stuck with the brats.’
But I was in no mood for a Lizzie tantrum. I kept running. Just before we got to Jax’s house, Seb called.
‘Hiya, babe. What’s up?’
‘I’ve escaped. Just for the afternoon,’ I said, before I could chicken out.
Lizzie heard his laugh boom out of the phone. She gave me a smirk.
‘Where are you? I’ll come and get you. Just give me half an hour to eat.’
I’d die if I had to sit around and wait that long. ‘No. It’s okay. I’ll walk to your house. I’d rather. Truly.’ And I turned around and ran, away from Lizzie and her bright, knowing eyes.
four
It took me forty-five minutes to run to Seb’s house. The wind blasted in my face for most of the way and the rain came back ten minutes into the journey. The wind burrowed into my clothes and chilled me. Twice I stopped. I could tell Seb I’d changed my mind. He loved me. He’d wait.
And each time, when I started running again, I heard Lizzie’s voice telling me how Sherry Faulkner had the hots for him, or Petrina Berry, or half the girls in the school, and how I’d better cement my love for him if I wanted to keep him.
I would do it. It was the right thing.
I sprinted up the nineteen steps to his house and hammered on the door. I waited while the wind blew wild and free and insistent. I hammered again, then remembered the doorbell and jabbed that. Seconds passed, slower than my heart beats by a good ratio that I was much too stressed to work out.
The door opened. It was his mother. ‘Hello, Minna! My goodness, you’re soaking. Come on in and we’ll get you dry.’ She hustled me inside the house and into her bedroom. ‘Here you are. Put that on.’ She handed me a dressing gown. ‘Pop your clothes in the dryer when you’ve changed, and I’ll tell Seb you’re here.’
I took off my clothes and had to clamp down on the hysterical laughter that lurked in my throat. This wasn’t how I’d imagined getting my gear off in Seb’s house. I was stuffing my clothes in the dryer when he turned up.
‘Hiya babe, get a bit damp? Should have let me collect you.’ He wrapped his arms around me and gave me the sort of kiss that swept all my doubts away. I wanted to do this.
His mother called from the kitchen, ‘Bring Minna in here, dear. She’ll need to get something warm inside her.’
Seb whispered, ‘I’ve got something hot she can have.’
I choked and he gave me that twinkling, heart-breaker smile that melted me all through from my backbone out. He grabbed my hand and towed me into the kitchen.
His mother fussed. ‘Seb, where are your brains? Get Minna a towel to dry her hair.’ She smiled at me. ‘Such pretty hair too — the shades of autumn leaves. Do you colour it?’ She shook her head. ‘No, I thought not. Ah, to be young and gorgeous again!’
Seb rolled his eyes but got me a towel and perched himself on a stool beside me at the breakfast bar. Mrs King handed me a mug of soup. I was sure I wouldn’t be able to drink it, but I held it cupped in my hands and let the warmth soak in.
She was cooking — making a birthday cake for Seb’s grandmother, she said. She chatted as she measured and stirred. I chatted right back and it was warm and peaceful and happy there in that kitchen with the boy I loved beside me. Seb didn’t seem in any hurry. He moved his stool closer so that he could sit with his arm around me. I smiled at him. I would keep this moment forever in my heart.
I did drink the soup because I discovered I was hungry. Seb took the empty mug from me. ‘Want some more, babe?’ His eyes quirked as he asked and so it was a different question I answered.
‘Yes. Please.’
He ran a hand down my spine as he ambled towards the soup pot on the stove.
My phone vibrated in the pocket of the dressing gown. A text from Jax. I read it, holding it below the level of the bench because Mrs King didn’t need to know I was the sort of girl who couldn’t leave a text unread for two seconds.
N here. Unconshis. Can’t wake him. Help.
I gasped. Seb and his mother looked at me. I flapped a hand. Jax. I had to call her. ‘Explain in a minute,’ I said.
My heart was thumping again but this time it was a painful, squeezing thump. My idiot brother. He’d really done it this time.
‘Jax, what’s happened?’
Her voice was high and panicked. ‘He just turned up. About ten minutes ago. He was acting strange — I thought he was drunk and I told him to go home because Mum’s going to be home soon, but he got to the door and fell down and now I can’t wake him. Min, can you come?’
‘I’ll be there.’ I hung up and faced Seb and his mother. I told them what had happened.
Mrs King ran for the laundry. She hurried back and pushed my warm, damp clothes at me. ‘Get dressed. Seb will take you.’
I threw my clothes on then ran for the car. Seb was such a good driver. We flew through the streets. He didn’t take his eyes off the road but when we had to stop at a light, he squeezed my knee. ‘Don’t worry, babe. He’ll be sweet.’
At Jax’s house he said, ‘Want me to c
ome in with you?’
‘Yes. Oh, yes. Please.’
Together we ran up the path. Jax was at the door, her two little sisters wide-eyed behind her. Noah was sprawled on his back in the hallway. Seb bent down and rearranged him on his side. ‘The recovery position,’ he said. ‘Safer.’
I knelt beside him. ‘I can’t smell any alcohol and marijuana doesn’t do this to him.’ I shoved a hand into his pocket, then checked all of them. In the one in his sweatshirt was a small pill bottle. I held it up. ‘This has got to be what he’s taken.’ I jumped up. ‘Get the phone book, Jax. I’ll phone A&E and ask them if he’s going to die.’ Or if I should just kill him right now.
It wasn’t simple getting an answer. I talked to a receptionist, then to a nurse, then to a doctor who went and asked another doctor. But the answer was okay. I looked at the others and gave the thumbs up. I hung up and let out a woosh of breath. ‘They said it won’t kill him, but that he’ll sleep for ages.’ I looked at Jax. ‘Best we get him out of here, wouldn’t you say?’
She just nodded, then she looked down at Noah snoring gently on the floor and her eyes filled with tears. She still liked him? Where was her brain? Then she whispered, ‘Why did he want to die?’
Oh god! I hugged her. ‘He didn’t — at least, the hospital reckoned he would have wanted to get high, but there’s a fine line between high and asleep.’
Seb slid an arm under Noah’s shoulders, hoisted him up into a fireman’s carry and headed for the car. I wanted to hug my boyfriend and slam-dunk my brother. Seb dumped Noah along the back seat.
‘Your folks going to freak out?’ he asked as he snapped the seat belt in.
I nodded. ‘Big time.’ I hoped Mum would miraculously be out and that Dad wouldn’t miraculously be at home.
Seb manhandled Noah out of the car. I ran to open the front door. No sign of Mum. So far, so good. ‘Along here,’ I told Seb. ‘Put him on his bed.’ I opened Noah’s bedroom door, darted to the bed, chucked the junk off it and helped Seb lower him on to it. Seb turned him on his side and put him in the recovery position again. ‘Seb,’ I whispered, ‘thank you so much. I just don’t know what I’d have done if you … if you …’ and I burst into tears.
