by Holly Bourne
“A hike?”
“Yes. Some of the LA mountains are beautiful.”
“But we’re on a mountain right now. We could hike, like, right now.”
She walked away to the couch and perched on the edge. Mum never sat, she always perched, waiting to dart off again. Somewhere else. Somewhere I wasn’t.
“I guess we’ll see,” she said. In that way. That way I remembered her using whenever she knew she wasn’t going to do what I wanted.
We’ll have to see, darling. Mummy doesn’t feel very well this evening. I don’t know if I’ll be better to chaperone your school trip to London. Go to bed. We’ll see in the morning.
“That was funny in the rec hall today” – she slurped her milk – “everyone bursting into ballroom dancing. The children loved it.”
I sat across from her, perching myself, on the poufy footrest. My knees hunched up over my body, warming the cold bit where I’d spilled the water.
“They love everything,” I said. “Apart from bedtime.”
“You’re great with them, Amber. You’ll make a brilliant mother one day.”
Anyone would in comparison to you. I felt guilty the moment I’d thought it.
“I saw you dancing with Kyle.”
Why did she always bring him up?
I shrugged. “He only rescued me from Calvin. I think he was about to grab my butt.”
“Remember what I said about him. Last year I saw so many hearts break over that boy.”
“I know.”
“He’s friendly to everyone…and he looks like that…girls think they’re special…”
“Jeez, Mum, I know, all right!?”
I knew he wouldn’t fancy me. I knew he was just that way. I knew he would always go for girls like Melody because that’s just what happens. I didn’t need my mum to remind me he wasn’t going to fall in love with me. I had daily reminders of that myself – from Mum… “I think he’s with Melody anyway,” I said helplessly. “Well, I think they hooked up.”
“I just don’t want to see you get hurt.”
So rich coming from her. So SO rich coming from her. And yet I could sense she sensed my anger, and I didn’t want to ruin our Hollywood movie moment. I guessed I could hike in LA, I mean Joseph Gordon-Levitt wouldn’t fall in love with me anyway, even if we did bump into him.
“Thank you.” I’d drunk all my drink already, but I sipped at my cup, so she wouldn’t know. “I won’t get hurt though. We’re just friends.”
“Uh hurr.”
Mum seemed relaxed and, again, so many questions tumbled around my head, wanting to launch themselves off my tongue.
“Do you…” I started. “Do you ever miss home?” Thinking it was an easy one to lead into more.
“Of course,” Mum said. She stood up, and I could see her drink wasn’t finished. There was still half left. She was standing up anyway.
“The weekend staff arrive tomorrow,” she said, like the question I’d asked before wasn’t totally loaded, wasn’t so totally a question with more questions behind it. “That’s always a fun campfire. All that new energy…”
I winced at the word “energy” – feeling spent. Like all my optimism had bungee-jumped right out the small cabin window. All I wanted was a few answers…that wasn’t too much, was it?
For her it was.
“Sleep well, poppet.”
She rubbed my hair, making it frizz, and padded in her embroidered nightgown back to her bedroom.
I stared at the door for a while, playing with my empty cup. The sugar from the cocoa had woken me up.
I went back to my cramped little room and got out my sketchpad, doodling and pencilling and shading until all the bad thoughts quietened down enough so I could finally fall asleep.
SITUATIONS THAT ARE DESTINED TO FAIL:
Whiskey + Family history of drinking
+
Whiskey + Cancelled trips to LA
+
Whiskey + Repressed emotions of several years
+
Whiskey
Eighteen
Mum was right. The weekend relief staff did bring new energy.
They arrived in jeeps, each cradling a rucksack, picking up the children for hugs and brimming over with the enthusiasm we’d all got too tired to muster. At campfire that night, us regulars just relaxed and let them do all the work.
They were desperate to make the kids love them in the time they’d missed. They started games and sang stupid loud songs, and basically did everything for us, so we could take it in turns to sneak into the fringes of the woods and knock back shots of Russ’s whiskey.
“I love the weekend staff,” I declared, to Russ, Kyle, Whinnie and Bryony, as I took my second shot and peered at the celebratory madness happening around the fire. “I love the weekend staff, and I really like that it’s the weekend.”
Russ took the whiskey bottle from me. “I’m so jealous! I don’t think my body can handle another game of paintball.”
We all laughed as Russ showed us his epic bruises. We’d been paintballing in the forest that day. Always looking for attention, Russ had been screaming “CAN’T GET ME” at all of the children. So, of course, it became a massive game of Get Russ.
I’d managed to only receive one direct hit – from Calvin – who stalked me through the woods, huffing and puffing behind me.
“Well I got two bruises, one on each butt cheek.” Bryony took the bottle off Russ. “I swear Calvin is such a perv.” She took a drink and passed it to Kyle. “You still on for LA tomorrow?”
I looked up.
“Hang on,” I said. “You guys are going to LA too?”
Kyle nodded and drank. “You want to join us, Amber?”
“I can’t,” I said. “I’m going to LA with my mum…we’re going hiking.”
The whiskey felt warm inside me, which, combined with the heat of the fire, led to extra warmness.
“Hiking?” Bryony pulled a face. “With our boss?”
“Well, she’s my mum.”
“You’re going to miss out. Let me know if you wanna ditch her. We’re going to get so wasted. It will be amazing.” Bryony peered out at the fire. “Right, I better get back there. They’re attacking the weekenders.”
We all followed her gaze and – true enough – loads of Dumbledore’s Army had started to leap on our relief staff. They looked like they were covered in barnacles – kid-shaped barnacles. A high school girl with blonde hair down to her bottom looked like she was about to buckle under the weight…then she did…falling forward, with twelve kids on top of her.
I felt Kyle stand just to the side of me.
“Why does it sometimes feel like we’re babysitting a zombie apocalypse?” I asked him.
“Ouch! That was fun. Can you get off me, please…like now, please? Ouch!” The blonde girl was trying to keep her voice as Disney as possible but you could tell she was hurting and annoyed. Bryony wove through the madness and helped pull her out.
“Be careful of our new staff now, please. Calvin, I saw you jump on her!” He gave her a defiant chubby grin full of chins. Bryony turned back to our gap in the woods and mouthed the word “help”.
“We better go,” I said.
“We better.”
Russ passed out breath mints so Mum and Bumface Kevin wouldn’t smell the whiskey and we took it in turns to innocently return to the campfire.
Whinnie went first.
“Who’s going to LA then?” I asked Kyle, as we watched Whinnie’s backside wobble into the circle…she’d had a lot of whiskey already.
Kyle let out a big sigh. “Umm, well me and Bryony. Wayne, Jessie, Jude, and, er, Melody.”
Melody, of course Melody was going. They’d probably have attractive-person sex in the grubby nightclub toilets, just so they could juxtapose with something.
“You looking forward to spending time with your mum?”
I smiled and looked out for her by the fire. “Yes… Yes, I really am.”
> It was Kyle’s turn. He crunched up his mint, releasing mentholy vapours on his breath that made my nose tingle. “See you in there.”
I leaned against the prickly bark of a tree and watched him weave through the crowd. The children mobbed him and Melody came up and ruffled his hair playfully. They shared a secret smile… Well it would’ve been a secret smile if I hadn’t been skulking about and watching them from the darkness like a creepy person.
I wondered what it must feel like to be him – Kyle. To be so popular. For every entrance anywhere to feel ceremonial.
It was my turn.
I made my way back into the clearing and picked through the children to sit down next to Mum. Bumface Kevin had his guitar out.
Oh no – Kum ba ya time. He bloody loved that song.
Mum smiled warmly and put her arm around me, cuddling me into her.
“Where did you go?” she asked. I didn’t answer at first, just burrowed myself further into her. Not caring if it looked childish or unprofessional.
“I had to pee,” I lied. “I’ve just about got the hang of doing it in the woods now.” Another lie. Eight times I’d tried and eight times I’d got significant amounts of urine down my leg.
Kevin strummed his guitar and the circle fell quiet. Everyone settled down on their logs, sensing the beginning of a sing-song. Another camp counsellor, Susan, whose frizzy hair rivalled mine, came and joined Kevin with her guitar. The fire crackled and everyone’s faces looked still and peaceful. There was just something about this song that made everyone calm down.
“Kum ba ya, my Lord, kum ba ya,” they sang smoothly, and we all joined in. The innocence of the children’s voices sang pure and clean. “Kum ba ya, my Lord, kum ba ya.”
I sang as quietly as I could, so as not to ruin it. Everyone always says they “can’t sing” to be modest, but in my case it was the utter truth. I sounded like a toad being trod on by a stiletto.
“Someone’s singing, my Lord, kum ba ya.”
“Someone’s singing, my Lord, kum ba ya.”
Mum pulled away from me.
“Oh, Amber,” she said. “I forgot to tell you.”
My heart instantly started hurting. She was whispering, but she was using the voice. The breezy I’m-about-to-let-you-down-but-I-have-a-good-reason voice.
“What is it?” I asked, a lump already in my throat.
“About LA. Can we reschedule, honey? The centre called this afternoon. They’re completely flooded with people and they need my help. That’s okay if I go, right? I mean, they really need me there.”
“But…” I knew she volunteered to help other addicts. And, I knew it was awful, but I wished she didn’t. All of those people would’ve hurt others as much as she’d hurt me – why did they deserve my mum? Especially over me.
Tears. They couldn’t come. Not now. Not in front of everyone.
“The weekend is always so busy there,” she continued. Oblivious to my heartbreak, or maybe just very practised at shutting it out. “You can come, of course. But it won’t be very fun.”
“It’s my only weekend off.” I choked.
“Shh, yes. But you’re off in another two weeks.”
“Exactly. Our only chance to spend time together for at least two weeks.”
Mum’s voice sharpened. “Amber, don’t make me feel bad. I made a commitment to help that shelter. I can’t exactly let them down because my teenage daughter wants to look at the Hollywood Sign.”
“Someone’s crying, my Lord, kum ba ya,” the camp sang.
“Someone’s crying, my Lord, kum ba ya.”
“Anyway,” she said. “We’re seeing loads of each other. You’re living with me. We had a lovely hot chocolate last night, didn’t we?”
“For about two minutes.” My voice verged on the cusp of an emotional eruption.
“Come on, Amber.” She put her arm around me, and I hated myself for softening into her touch. “Isn’t there a group of them all going to LA? You can tag along with them. I know you’re disappointed, but that shelter means a lot to me…I need it…I need to help.”
“Someone’s praying, my Lord, kum ba ya.”
The light melody of the children’s voices combined with the scratchy soulful plucking of Kevin’s guitar was too much. Mum joined in with the singing again, like that was the end of it. But I couldn’t. If I even opened my mouth for a second, a sob would break loose.
Everyone around me looked warm and cosy and at peace. It took all my physical strength to keep my bottom jaw from wobbling. Waves of grief and anger and guilt and hurt crashed and thrashed inside of me as I sat on that log, my mother’s arm still around me.
As my face scanned the scene, I caught Kyle’s eye.
He was watching me. He wasn’t singing either.
“Are you okay?” he mouthed.
I didn’t even have the energy to lie, or pretend it was fine, that I wasn’t on the verge of breaking in a way that was utterly irrevocably Humpty Dumpty.
I gave a slight shake of my head. He stood instantly, to make his way over.
I stood too, shaking Mum’s arm off.
“I need a wee.” Even though my voice was full of crying she didn’t stop me, or ask if I was okay.
“Again?”
“Yep.”
I ran back into the safety of the trees, not knowing if Kyle was following, not particularly caring.
I needed more whiskey.
Just another shot or two, to make it go away, to make me feel like I had some warmth left.
Russ had hidden the bottle under a pile of pine needles. I untwisted the top and, without even wincing, downed a quarter of the bottle in one go. It burned my throat, scorching down into my stomach, curdling it instantly. That’s what I wanted. It felt good that it hurt. That there was simple physical pain with a simple physical explanation – rather than this twisted unexplainable wrench of an ache in my guts that I knew came from a place that therapists like to find.
I coughed. Leaned back, and tipped another quarter to the back of my throat. It felt terrible and brilliant at the same time. A rush tingled through my body as the alcohol soaked into my blood system.
“Amber?” Kyle called, and I quickly hid the bottle again.
“Here.”
He appeared through the pine trees, the fire behind him, lighting him all up.
“What’s happened?” he asked, getting closer. Not too close. Not touching close. His long arms flagged uselessly at his sides, like he didn’t know what to do with them.
“My…” I started, then turned back to the campfire. The calm atmosphere had broken. Kevin had put his guitar away and Melody and Bryony dragged the old iPod and speakers into the centre of the circle, getting ready to start the disco. The kids jumped on the weekend staff and yanked at their clothes with excitement.
I couldn’t hold it in any more. “It’s my mum…” I bent over on myself, like a folded piece of paper and dropped onto the dusty floor. “She…she…”
Kyle dropped too so he was balancing on the balls of his feet. He awkwardly put his hand on my shoulder. “She what?”
An echoing sob broke loose, I covered my mouth to try and contain it. It echoed around the forest, bouncing about the trees – my misery echoing around and reflecting itself back to me.
I was so alone.
I was in a strange stupid country, in a strange stupid camp, with no real friends, and why? Why was I doing this? To see my mother who didn’t want to see me? To force her to love me? Force her to care when it should be something that comes naturally?
I wanted Evie, and Lottie, and my dad even. He left Mum and married that nightmare bitch, and broke Mum and it was awful, but he never left me. But she did…
Dad was asleep in bed probably, five thousand miles away and I was here. In the strange forest, with a boy I hardly knew, uncomfortably patting my shoulder and saying “hush”.
I stood up so quickly my head spun and I turned on my ankle. “She’s not taking me to LA any mor
e.”
Eight small words. One teeny sentence. To almost everyone, it would mean nothing. A minor disappointment. A last minute, can’t-be-helped change of plans.
Not to me.
“Oh…” I could hear the hesitation in his voice, as he struggled to match this information to my sobbing. “I guess you were really looking forward to it, huh?”
I wiped my eyes with the back of my hand. My tummy really hurt. The alcohol already hitting me. The strong bassline of a Katy Perry song thrummed through the trees. The dancing had begun.
“We should go back,” I said.
“You still seem upset.”
“I am.” I rooted around in the pine needles and got out the bottle again. I took three deep swigs.
“Want some?” I asked.
“I’m okay… Amber?”
I was already walking back into the circle.
“Teenage Dream” blared out the stereo and the kids whizzed in circles, yelling along to some of the lyrics.
I was drunk by then. Already very drunk.
“WHINNIE!” I yelled, swinging my arms around her when I found her in the circle.
“Whoa, ouch.” Her face got buried into my shoulder with the blunt force of my hug.
“HEY, KIDS!” I let go of Whinnie and picked up the hands of two little girls and spun them round. “LET’S SEE HOW FAST WE CAN GO.”
I spun them and spun them. They shrieked and giggled. I stumbled over my foot and fell to the dusty ground, bringing the two girls on top of me.
“Oomph.” The two little girls were laughing. “We fell, we fell.” I was about to laugh too but Russ’s firm hand gripped me and pulled me up.
“What the holy Moses are you doing, Amber?” he whispered angrily in my ear.
I rolled my eyes at him. “It was an ACCIDENT,” I hiccuped.
“You stink! Have you been drinking more whiskey?”
I shrugged, but covered my mouth with my hand. “I have insurance.”
I wasn’t sure if that was true, but I’d heard other Americans say it before.
“You need to sober up. At the very least, chew some gum.”
“I don’t need…to do…anything.”
I looked over his shoulder. Whinnie was helping the girls up, who, to be fair, were totally unharmed. The song changed, to “Gangnam Style”, and the children screamed and started galloping on the spot. Kyle appeared, gently pushing kids out the way, trying to get to me.
