Ella on the Outside

by Cath Howe

  “I know you don’t want to see me,” I said. “I just came to say sorry.”

  “Just go away, Ella.” Molly’s voice wasn’t angry, more far away. She stroked her mum’s forehead as if she wasn’t thinking about me any more.

  I listened to the coughing. The first time I’d spied and heard coughing must be three weeks ago. Molly’s mum had been sick for ages, I realised. The woman’s face looked bluish grey. The dark circles under her eyes looked like hollows. Her hands flopped, grasped at nothing. She definitely looked… different. When she breathed, her breaths just seemed to be little gasps. Last time I came she wasn’t like that, I was sure. And wasn’t that just how Grandad had sounded when he was really ill in hospital?

  The sweet sick smell filled my nose. What if this illness was serious? I remembered Mrs Reynolds saying there’s all kinds of stubborn. Molly was a stubborn person, deciding never to talk to Lydia. What if she had decided her mum would get better with the medicines from the Co-op and stuck to that idea too?

  “I will go. I’ll do whatever you want, Molly, but I’m worried. Can your mum breathe all right?” I asked.

  I remembered Grandad gripping my hand, the rasping noise of his breathing. “Molly, my grandad sounded like this when he was really ill. He had nurses all around him and machines checking him and he was in hospital.”

  Molly’s face was full of fury now. “Mum isn’t that bad. She just needs to eat, get strong.”

  Molly’s mum had a bout of coughing – small, dry, barking sounds.

  “What if you’re wrong? What if she needs experts?”

  “Just go.”

  “I know you don’t want your mum to leave the house but I think she could be really ill. She could die, Molly.”

  “You don’t know anything!” Molly thundered.

  Her mum’s head hardly moved now, as if she didn’t have the energy to even cough. Her eyes rolled with a kind of far-away glassy look.

  My whole body was shaking. “Please, Molly. We need to call an ambulance!”

  A huge tear rolled down Molly’s cheek. “I can’t let them take her away…”

  I put my arms round Molly and hugged her. “We have to help her, Molly. We have to do it now.”

  Molly pulled away from me and sank down to hold her mum’s hand. She did a tiny nod.

  I pulled out my phone and dialled.

  “Which service do you require?” a voice asked.

  “Ambulance,” I said. “Please can you send an ambulance…? Number 13 Ash Grove.”

  I left them together and walked downstairs to meet the ambulance, out in the crisp evening air.

  Maybe I was wrong. Well, if I was, the ambulance people would tell me off and say I was wasting their time. They would go away and I’d get in trouble. I’d explain. For the first time in a long time I felt like me.

  I rang home. “Mrs Reynolds, I popped down the road to check on my friend and they’re sending an ambulance,” I said.

  “Whatever have you done, Ella?” Mrs Reynolds cried.

  “Nothing,” I said. “It’s Molly’s mum. She’s really sick. Please will you come? Jack knows where.”

  I stood by the gate so the ambulance would see me.

  I heard the siren from far away. When I saw the flashing light, I waved my arms above my head and the ambulance stopped. Two people in green suits sprang out. “There’s a lady upstairs who keeps coughing. I think she might be really ill,” I told them.

  I didn’t go inside. I heard them explaining to Molly at the kitchen door, saying, “We just want to check that your mum’s all right.”

  A few minutes later they came dashing out and collected a stretcher. It took them a long time to come out again. There were crashes and furniture-moving noises inside the house.

  Two figures appeared, coming down the road towards me – Mrs Reynolds wobbling along, gripping Jack’s arm.

  The back door banged and the ambulance people appeared, carrying the stretcher between them. Molly’s mum had a mask on her face and Molly walked beside her. Molly climbed inside the ambulance and looked out at me with a face so miserable I had to look away. “This is it,” she seemed to say. “You have made them take my mum, Ella Mackay!”

  “I’ve not walked so fast in years,” Mrs Reynolds said, appearing beside me.

  “She did,” echoed Jack. “She hardly used her stick at all.”

  Mrs Reynolds bustled round to the door and spoke to the ambulance people, then the doors slammed with Molly and her mum inside.

  “Can you tell me about it now, love?” Mrs Reynolds said, putting her arm round me. “I’d like to understand.”

  Through my tears I told her what I knew about Molly’s mum. She watched me gravely.

  “Well, you shouldn’t be too hard on yourself for calling the ambulance,” she said. “They suspect the poor lady has pneumonia. You’ve probably saved her life.”

  Chapter 23

  The Long Dark Car

  Dad,

  I keep remembering. I can’t stop it.

  Molly’s face staring out at me.

  The slam of the ambulance doors.

  It made me remember when those people took you away…

  A dark long car that isn’t our car. I can smell the inside car-seat smell even though I’m outside on the street.

  The doors slam closed. CLUMP. The voices stop.

  He’s in the back. The passenger seat is empty.

  Two people, a man and a woman, one each side of him and a driver. That’s because he needs a person on either side so he doesn’t run away. That’s how you know he’s a prisoner and not just a person getting a lift.

  Dad sitting very straight in the middle. Dad’s head facing forward, not turning. On his knees, the carrier bag he brought downstairs.

  He doesn’t wave. I wish he would wave. I wish the two people would turn and talk to him. He could tell them about us, about me and Jack. “I’ve got a girl and a boy,” he could say. “Don’t keep me away too long. I need to get home to them.”

  Mum doesn’t get up. She sits in the lounge with a straight back staring at the window. She doesn’t even say goodbye.

  The headlights are on – their beams jutting out across the backs of all the parked cars. The smooth swish of the car pulling away.

  When Mrs Reynolds and Jack and I got back home after seeing the ambulance leaving, I didn’t want to talk to Mum. But there she was, just back from work, standing in the hall with her organised face. My insides twisted.

  “Sylvia tells me you’ve been upset about your friend. What’s happened, Ella?”

  I couldn’t lie to Mum. Not after today. Not now. My eyes welled up. “I… I… another girl, Lydia, told me to… spy on Molly,” I said.

  Mum frowned. “What do you mean, spy?”

  “Find out things. Lydia made me watch Molly’s house and take photos and then I took a photo inside and found out her mum was really ill. Oh, Mum, it was so wrong… and, and…” The tears came thick and strong.

  Mum took hold of my shoulders, gently, staring into my face. “I don’t understand, Ella. How could another girl make you do something like that?”

  “She, Lydia… she… she said she’d tell other people… about Dad.”

  Mum took a sharp breath. “She knows about your dad? You told her about Dad? Ella, how could you?”

  The sobs came, louder, bigger. I sank down on to the bottom stair. “Lydia asked lots of questions until I told her. That day when she gave me the party shoes, she’d worked out that I had a secret and she saw you and Jack and she just went on asking, Is it about your dad? And I told her and I’m so sorry.” I curled away from Mum. “I’m so, so sorry.”

  I couldn’t help the words coming now. “I can’t forget about Dad. I can’t pretend he’s not our dad. I know you don’t want to talk to us about him but… he’s always in my head.” Shuddering sobs shook me. I had no more voice left.

  “Oh, Ella,” I heard Mum saying, “I’ve been so stupid. How awful. I didn’t
understand, love.”

  And then Mum’s arms were round me and her face burrowing into my hair and hugging and hugging me and all the sadness pouring out of us until there were no more tears left to cry.

  Dear Molly,

  If you don’t answer this message, I will leave you alone. I am very sorry for taking the photo. I hope your mum is feeling better. Please can we start again?

  Love, Ella

  It was Saturday morning, only three days since Molly and her mum had left in the ambulance. “I can’t go,” I said from my bed. “It’s a stupid idea.”

  “I think you should,” Mum said, standing in my doorway. “I’ve checked the visiting times.”

  “I can’t talk to her. Anyway, I sent a message and she never replied.”

  How could Mum even ask me to go to the hospital? I shouldn’t be anywhere near Molly. Never. No way.

  “She may not have got your message.”

  Why didn’t Mum just leave me alone? “She won’t want me. Stop nagging me!”

  “Ella, that girl’s on her own. Imagine how you would feel.”

  I couldn’t imagine it. It all felt bad and wrong and terrible. And the most terrible bit of it was me.

  I humphed and rolled and lay still. I closed my eyes.

  “Well, Jack and I will go,” Mum said.

  My door swished shut. I heard Mum’s feet on the stairs and she called, “Jack!”

  I jumped off the bed. “But you and Jack don’t really know Molly,” I called, following her down.

  Mum had her keys in her hand. “You’d better come with us then. Just get dressed and put your trainers on.”

  We drove into the car park. “The least you can do is say hello,” Mum said.

  The hospital felt hot and stuffy. There were so many corridors; I couldn’t imagine ever getting out. It smelled of cleaning and medicine. Nurses and patients walked around, looking for where they were supposed to be. As I followed Mum and Jack, I kept thinking about how strange the hospital must be for Molly’s mum after being inside a mountain maze. My feet felt heavy. I had lead boots. Dread boots. I had a lot to say to Molly and nothing at all, all at once.

  When we got to the ward, we weren’t allowed to see Molly’s mum at all because she was too ill. Molly was sitting outside the room on a blue plastic chair, in her brown tracksuit.

  Molly’s long legs swung as she stared through grey glass.

  I stopped dead.

  “Come on,” Mum said. “Hello, Molly.”

  Jack called, “Molleee!” and dashed towards her.

  Molly turned. She didn’t smile at us. Mum crossed the wide grey floor. I kept behind her. My insides turned to jelly.

  A nurse came out to shush Jack and for a moment I saw the side of a bed and a hand and tubes going down beside it. Machines beeped. The door closed.

  “I was only saying hello,” Jack whined.

  We stood there.

  Mum spoke to the nurse. “In isolation, yes… very worried… out of danger… yes… yes…”

  “Can I take Molly down to the café?” Mum waved towards Molly.

  “Good idea,” the nurse said. “I’ll keep an eye on your mum, Molly.”

  Molly nodded, stood up and followed Mum and Jack.

  I came last.

  I remembered how Molly seemed to carry silence with her, when she came for tea, last weekend … before … just before.

  Mum bought us drinks and biscuits in the café. There was a children’s play area outside. Molly drifted over to it to sit on a hump shaped like a bee. It stuck out on a sort of coil to make the bee bounce. I don’t think Molly was expecting that.

  She wobbled and fell off.

  Jack got on the one next to her: an ant with waving legs. He wobbled it, holding the front pair of feelers, plunging down and up, wobbling and bouncing.

  Molly climbed back up on hers.

  “Mine’s a flying one!” Jack shouted.

  He and Molly bounced. I watched. Then Jack fell off his and went to get a biscuit.

  I climbed on his. “Did you get my message?” I asked Molly, sitting there, holding on.

  “Don’t talk about it,” Molly said. She bounced on the bee and the bright sun poured down on her face.

  We both bounced.

  Jack rushed over, shouting, “Are you on the moon yet?”

  Molly smiled at him. “Nearly!”

  I climbed off and let him have a go again.

  I collected drinks for Molly and me from the picnic table where Mum sat flicking through the messages on her phone.

  I flopped down to sit beside Molly. “I’m really sorry,” I said.

  Chapter 24

  I Know Everything About You

  Dear Dad,

  That’s a big, big shame that you can’t have a holiday from being in prison.

  I didn’t know you were sorry. I didn’t know you felt bad about the stealing every minute of every day. Don’t worry, Dad. You got in a tangle. I’ve been in a tangle too, Dad.

  Lots of love, Ella

  The days passed slowly. I sat in the class on my own, with Bryony, ignoring everyone and visiting Molly at hospital after school.

  There are lots of kinds of stubborn. I found a new kind inside me. I ate my sandwiches outside every day on the wall. I ignored Lydia’s group. I pretended they were invisible.

  I even stopped wearing the hot green jumper when our classroom was warm, and left my sore arms bare.

  One lunchtime, as I walked past them all on my way outside, Rachel called out in front of everyone. “Ella, is Molly OK?”

  I stopped.

  Lydia, Rachel, Sophie, Immy, Hannah, Zing. They were all there.

  “Molly’s all right,” I said.

  “Someone said her mum’s in hospital,” Immy said.

  “Yes,” I said. “She’s very ill.”

  “Oh.”

  Silence.

  “Molly’s mum has pneumonia,” I said.

  “What’s that?” asked Lydia.

  “It’s an illness. It means it’s hard to breathe. Molly had been trying to look after her.”

  “What, in that mess?” Lydia almost spat the words.

  Everyone looked at Lydia.

  “Why are you always so mean about Molly?” Rachel asked.

  “It’s because of the art competition,” Immy said. “It’s because Molly won it, isn’t it? Last term.”

  “I don’t know what you mean!” snapped Lydia.

  I looked round the group. An art competition. Before I arrived. It was all starting to make sense. Hot anger rose inside me. “So, Molly’s dad’s accident last year – did you all know about that?”

  “Yes. The teachers told our whole class,” Rachel said.

  I gaped at Rachel. “You mean, there never was a mystery.”

  Everyone was waiting for Lydia now.

  “I think you’re all being horrid,” she said at last.

  Angry words burst out of me. “You made me keep investigating just to hurt Molly!”

  Lydia had a cold smile. “There’s plenty more people I could hurt if I wanted to, Ella Mackay.” She pointed her long white finger at me. “I know lots of things about you, don’t forget.”

  My hands clenched. “No you don’t. Not really.”

  A tray clattered at the other end of the lunch hall.

  I gulped. I felt all eyes on me. “My dad got put in prison for doing a bad thing.” My voice came out loud. “He’s really sorry for what he did. He feels bad every day.”

  A chair scraped. Silence.

  “My dad made a mistake. He’s making up for it. People should say sorry when they do a bad thing.” I stared into Lydia’s blue, blue eyes. “Don’t you think a person should say sorry when they do a bad thing, Lydia?”

  I stared around at Lydia’s open-mouthed friends. Lydia looked down at the table, her smile quivering.

  I realised I didn’t care. I’d said the secret, mine and Mum’s and Jack’s. She couldn’t do anything to me. The thought ro
se up like a cheer inside me. “I’ll still have friends,” I told her. “They’ll be people who don’t lie and cheat. People like Molly!”

  I headed for the door, my words roaring inside my head, and plunged out into the playground, half sobbing.

  But then a noise came from behind me. “Hey, Ella.” I turned to see Immy. “Say hi to Molly for me,” she said. “Say I hope her mum’s better soon.”

  I nodded.

  “Maybe you could come over for tea sometime?” Immy said. “If you want to.”

  I grinned. “I’d love that. Thanks!”

  Once Molly’s mum was definitely getting better, Mum took me to meet her one day after school. I didn’t want to, but I knew I had to.

  “This is Ella, Mum,” Molly said.

  A woman in a pale blue dressing gown was in a hospital chair looking out of the window. Her dark hair was brushed and flat and she had a wide pale face like Molly’s. She looked sleepy, not scary. Molly was holding on to her mum’s hand.

  “Hello, Ella,” her mum said softly.

  A wave of hot shame pulled me down. What could I say?

  Molly stroked her mum’s forehead. “Ella’s the one who called the ambulance.” Her voice was flickery and gentle, as if they both spoke a special rare language. She turned back to me. “Mum gets tired,” she said.

  My own mum was waiting in the doorway. Now she came in and said hello. “I’m so glad our girls are getting to know each other.”

  You shouldn’t be; I’m a bad person who nobody trusts, I thought.

  But Mum put her arm round me and beckoned Jack in from the corridor. Jack zoomed in, making his aeroplane noise. Molly’s mum smiled.

  “Can we play football?” he asked Molly. “Please!”

  Mum laughed. “Jack, it’s a hospital.”

  “I’ll play carefully,” he said.

  And then we were all laughing, apart from Jack, who stood there in the middle of the room, asking, “What’s so funny?”

  He stamped his foot. His face went naughty and cross and I thought, Oh no!