You've Got a Friend

by Judi Curtin

  That was nice of her. We were really supposed to be going home so she could get started on the big project she had to do for art class.

  ‘Yeah,’ I said. ‘That’s a great idea. You should come.’

  For a second I felt sorry for Stephen. I could see he was desperately trying to think of an excuse. Then I stopped feeling guilty – if he and my dad could be friends again, that would be good for everyone, wouldn’t it?

  ‘What do you think, Stephen?’ I said.

  He smiled at us. ‘I think you two aren’t going to take no for an answer.’

  ‘Yay!’ I said. ‘Mum might have forgotten that we’re going over to Dad’s so I’ll run in and remind her – and then we can go and have a nice chat with my dad. Don’t go anywhere without me!’

  Before anyone could argue, I raced inside and told Mum we’d be back in time for tea. Then I ran upstairs and pulled something from my cupboard and shoved it into my school bag. Then I went outside and Stephen, Beth and I set off for my dad’s flat.

  Chapter Sixteen

  ‘Hey, girls!’ said Dad as he opened the door. ‘It’s so nice to see you. Have you got time to go for burritos?’

  Then, when the door was fully open, he saw Stephen standing next to us. Dad’s smile changed, so it looked fake, like he really didn’t want to smile at all, but felt he had to, because we were all looking at him.

  ‘Hello, Stephen,’ he said. ‘To what do I owe this honour?’

  I wanted to punch him. This was his brother! Why couldn’t he just hug him, and talk about football, the way brothers are supposed to?

  Then I remembered that the last time I’d seen my dad, he’d been a lost and lonely little boy.

  ‘Er, Dad,’ I said. ‘Beth and I bumped into Stephen and we were chatting about the olden days, and … well … you see … we sort of …’

  Stephen stepped forward. ‘I think these two girls want to do a bit of matchmaking between us.’

  ‘Is that right?’ said Dad, staring at me in a way that told me he really wasn’t very happy.

  I stared back at him. I saw his wrinkles, and his glasses, and the places where his hair is getting thin. And then, like magic, I couldn’t see those things anymore. For one second, I could see the sad little boy still hidden inside the grown man standing in front of us, and I couldn’t hold back anymore.

  ‘Dad, you’re so sad,’ I said. ‘And we want to help you, but we don’t know how. When I’m sad, I talk to Beth, and afterwards I feel better and everything makes more sense – and Beth isn’t even my sister. And you’ve got a brother, and you should be the best of friends – and once you were the best of friends – and now you’re like two stone statues when you’re together – and it’s so stupid – and please, Dad, just talk to Stephen – please – and don’t just talk about the weather – talk properly – about real stuff – about important stuff. I want you to do it for me – but mostly you need to do it for you.’

  I ran out of breath and waited for Dad to shout at me and tell me to mind my own business – but he didn’t do that.

  ‘You’re such a lovely girl,’ he said, and then he hugged me so hard I thought my ribs were going to crack.

  Finally he let me go. ‘Maybe you’d better come in.’

  We followed Dad into the living room, and we all stood around awkwardly. ‘Beth and I could go into the garden and get started on our homework,’ I said. ‘So you two can have some privacy to say what you need to say.’

  ‘Good idea,’ said Dad, even though he looked like I’d suggested the scariest thing in the world. He sat down on the couch, and Stephen sat on a chair at the other side of the room. Dad played with his watch, and Stephen stared at the carpet, like he was trying to remember the ugly sunflower pattern forever. This was even harder than I’d expected.

  ‘Look,’ I said. ‘You guys are grown-ups. You can talk about whatever you like, or about nothing at all, if that’s what you want. But since you’re here, I suggest you at least try to see what went wrong for you both when you were kids.’

  They both stared at me, and I wondered if I was wasting my time. Maybe Beth and I could spend a hundred years doing homework in the garden, and still Dad and Eddie wouldn’t make things right.

  ‘Pablo.’ Beth said one single word and it was like everything in the room changed.

  Tears came to my dad’s eyes and Stephen twisted his hands together.

  ‘Molly said something about guilt earlier,’ he said. ‘And I had no idea what she meant. I was still very sick when I came home from hospital, and our parents treated me like I was made of china. They wrapped me up in cotton wool, and protected me from everything. I know they meant well, but it probably wasn’t a good strategy. And now I’m not that sick little boy anymore. Eddie, I know how much you loved that cat, and I know how sad you were when he had to go. Can you please tell me the truth about what happened?’

  ‘Pablo was starting to be troublesome,’ said Dad. ‘So Mum and Dad decided …’ I felt like shaking him. Had he been telling the lie for so long that he’d actually managed to forget the truth? But then Dad shook his head. ‘I was so jealous of you, Stephen.’ His voice was quiet, almost a whisper. ‘I really believed that Mum and Dad stopped loving me when you got sick. Sometimes I dreamed of getting sick, so they’d love me again.’

  ‘And I was jealous of you,’ said Stephen.

  ‘But why?’

  ‘We need to talk about that,’ said Stephen. ‘And we will – later – but first … Pablo.’

  ‘That cat was so special to me,’ said Dad, wiping away a tear. ‘When you were in hospital, he was my only friend. When Mum and Dad talked endlessly about you, Pablo was the one I told. When Billy was mean to me, Pablo was the one I told. It sounds stupid now, but I talked to that cat. I told him all the things I wanted to say to you.’

  ‘That’s not stupid,’ said Stephen. ‘That’s sad – and sweet. I remember that you were a very sweet little boy.’

  ‘When you came home from hospital,’ said Dad. ‘Mum was terrified that you were going to get sick again, and I think she went a bit crazy. Do you remember how she used to run around the house, cleaning everything with bleach?’

  Stephen nodded and smiled. ‘I don’t know how the bleach fumes didn’t finish me off altogether.’

  ‘I was angry at you anyway,’ said Dad. ‘Because of all the attention you were getting. Then Mum made up her mind that being around Pablo would be bad for you. She said he had too many germs … she said he could be carrying all kinds of diseases … and that’s why … she said … I had to ….’

  Now Stephen had tears in his eyes. ‘Oh, Eddie,’ he said. ‘You mean …? Pablo had to go because of me? It was all my fault? I never knew about that. No wonder you—’

  Beth pulled my arm. ‘How about you and I get on with that homework?’ she whispered.

  So the two of us tiptoed out of the room, and closed the door softly behind us.

  * * *

  It was getting cold. Our homework was finished, and we’d even studied for the maths test that wasn’t going to happen for three more days.

  ‘What could those two be saying for all this time?’ asked Beth.

  ‘They’ve had so many years of not talking properly,’ I said. ‘So I guess they’ve got a lot to catch up on.’

  ‘True. But if I starve or freeze to death out here, you and I won’t be able to catch up on stuff when we’re old, will we?’

  I giggled. ‘OK, I get the message. It’s time for us to break up the brotherly love party.’

  As we went back inside, I was half afraid of what I was going to see.

  Were Dad and Stephen going to be all awkward again?

  Or had Beth and I managed to make things even worse than before?

  I opened the door of the living room. Dad was still sitting on the couch, but now Stephen was sitting next to him. They both had red eyes and big smiles on their faces.

  ‘Beth and I need to go home, Dad,’ I said. ‘I told Mum we’d be
back in time to help her make the tea.’

  Usually Dad looks sad when I leave his place – even when he knows he’s going to see me soon, but now, everything seemed ……..different.

  ‘Sure, Molly,’ he said. ‘I’ll see you soon.’

  ‘Oh,’ I said, opening my schoolbag. ‘I nearly forgot. There’s something I want to show you.’

  Dad didn’t look very excited. I guess he thought I wanted him to sign my homework diary or something.

  I pulled out the old exercise book and handed it to him. Stephen leaned over to see too, but in a casual way, like he was just trying to be polite. Dad stared at the cover of the book.

  ‘But—’ he said.

  ‘Hector,’ said Stephen suddenly. ‘It’s Hector!’

  ‘Hector the Brave,’ said Dad.

  ‘You didn’t?’ whispered Beth.

  ‘Actually I did,’ I whispered back. ‘Isn’t it great?’

  ‘I can hardly believe my eyes,’ said Dad as he turned the cover and looked at the first page.

  ‘This is wonderful,’ said Stephen. ‘I thought all of these got lost when we moved house.’

  ‘I guess this is the one that got away,’ I said.

  Dad looked at me. ‘Stephen’s right,’ he said. ‘When we moved house, the box of Hector stories got lost. So where exactly did you get this one?’

  I could feel my face going red. Beth and I had told Graham about our trips to the past, but we’d agreed that no one else would understand. If we told Dad, he’d tell Mum and Jim, and they’d all gang up on Beth and me. They’d talk about health and safety and they’d find all kinds of reasons for us not to go back to the past anymore. (And they’d conveniently manage to forget about all the people we’d helped by doing exactly that.)

  ‘Oh,’ I said. ‘I found this story in a box of old stuff – ages ago.’

  Dad was still staring at me, and I guessed he was planning to ask some very awkward questions – but then Stephen turned another page and grabbed his arm. ‘Look at this, Ed,’ he said. ‘Remember how Hector fought off the crocodiles? Coming up with that was really quite ingenious of us, don’t you think?’

  Dad smiled. ‘I agree,’ he said. ‘This isn’t bad at all.’

  ‘So maybe you could write more and get them published and we can all be millionaires?’ I said.

  Dad and Stephen both laughed. That felt so weird, and it took me a second to figure out why – I don’t think I’d ever seen those two men laugh together before. I was so happy that I started to laugh too, and Beth joined in, and then we all hugged and everything was wonderful.

  * * *

  ‘What if he’s angry?’ I said a few days later. ‘You know my dad, he can be funny about stuff sometimes.’

  ‘If he’s angry, we can cancel it,’ said Beth. ‘But that’s not going to happen. He’s going to love it – I promise.’

  Dad opened the door and smiled at us both. I still wasn’t used to how he had changed. In the few days since he’d made up with Stephen, it was like Dad had got younger and happier. He was almost like a different person.

  ‘Hi, Dad,’ I said. ‘I know it’s not your birthday for another few days, but I’ve been planning a sort of birthday present for you.’

  ‘That’s so nice of you, Mollikins,’ he said. ‘Are you going to tell me what it is, or is it going to be a surprise?’

  ‘I’d like it to be a surprise,’ I said. ‘But it can’t be really.’

  Dad laughed. ‘I’m not sure I understand.’

  Now that I had to tell him, I felt nervous, like my big idea was really a bit stupid.

  ‘Well, Beth and I saw this poster up in the community centre,’ I said. ‘And I thought of you - it’s for a creative writing course – it’s all about how to get started on your first book. It’s for writers of kids’ books too – we asked – so I’ve put your name down – and I’ve paid ten euros as a deposit, but if you think it’s a good idea you’re going to have to pay the rest yourself – and that has to be done by this afternoon – or else it’ll be too late—’

  Dad hugged me. ‘You really are the sweetest girl,’ he said. ‘Have I mentioned that before?’

  ‘So you think the writing course is a good idea?’ I asked, feeling hopeful.

  ‘I think it’s a brilliant idea,’ he said. ‘But …’

  I sighed. Why did adults always have to be so sensible? Why did there always have to be a ‘but’?

  Now Dad was smiling again. ‘But you’re a day too late,’ he said.

  ‘I don’t get it,’ I said. ‘We asked the man. The course doesn’t start until—’

  ‘I know,’ he said. ‘It starts next Monday – and Stephen and I have already signed up. We’re going to revive Hector and drag him into the twenty-first century!’

  ‘That’s so cool!’ I said.

  ‘Thanks,’ said Dad. ‘We think so too - and to celebrate, how about I take you two girls out for burritos?’

  I was starving, but the thought of a burrito …

  Beth kicked me.

  ‘Er, Dad,’ I said. ‘Beth and I love burritos – well, we used to love them, but maybe we could go somewhere else for a change?’

  He slapped his forehead. ‘I’ve made you hate burritos,’ he said. ‘Why didn’t you tell me before? Stephen told me about a really nice place that serves all kinds of trendy food – I think you’ll love it. Just hang on while I grab my jacket and my keys.’

  ‘Thanks for that, Molly,’ said Beth when he ran inside. ‘I think you might just have saved my life.’

  ‘You’re welcome,’ I said.

  ‘Everything’s working out perfectly,’ she said. ‘You should look happier.’

  ‘I am happy. It’s so brilliant that Dad and Stephen have signed up for the writing course, but …’

  ‘But what?’

  ‘But now I’ll have to come up with another idea for Dad’s birthday.’

  ‘Don’t worry,’ she said. ‘There’s a few days left, and between the two of us I’m sure we’ll think of something.’

  Chapter Seventeen

  It was the day of Dad’s birthday, and Beth and I were walking home from school.

  ‘I promised I’d call over later,’ I said. ‘And I still haven’t got anything for Dad.’

  ‘He’ll understand,’ said Beth. ‘And anyway, he’s an adult, so he can just buy his own stuff whenever he wants.’

  ‘Yeah, but presents are different – presents show you care. When Dad was in Africa, I used to post things to him, but half the time they never even made it, or arrived so late he’d forgotten he’d even had a birthday. Now that he’s living here again, it’s pathetic that I can’t find something nice for him.’

  ‘Well, the writing class was a brilliant idea,’ she said. ‘It’s not your fault he’d already thought of it himself.’

  ‘I guess. I just wish I was five again so I could make him a messy card with glitter and glue and wool and stuff and he’d pin it onto the fridge and act like it was the best thing he’d ever seen.’

  Beth giggled. ‘If you did that now, he’d still have to pretend to love it, wouldn’t he?’

  ‘Yeah, but in case you haven’t noticed, I’m not five anymore. I’d know the truth.’

  ‘Hey, Moll,’ she said. ‘I’ve just had a wonderful idea. Dad and Charlotte don’t know that hockey is cancelled, do they?’

  ‘And?’

  ‘And that means we don’t have to be home for a bit.’

  ‘So we’ve got time for present shopping. Thanks Beth, but if I don’t know what to buy …’

  ‘I wasn’t thinking of going shopping,’ she said. ‘Well not exactly, anyway. I was thinking of going to Rico’s. I’d like to see 1975 one more time.’

  ‘You’re crazy,’ I said. ‘The police are probably looking for us – well, for you anyway.’

  She smiled. ‘Maybe they are,’ she said. ‘But I’m thinking of going back to a time a tiny bit before I escaped from hospital and became Ireland’s most wanted person
.’

  And then I remembered something that had been annoying me ever since we’d come back from the past.

  ‘I get it now,’ I said. ‘You want to see your mum. I should have said something when we were back in 1975, but I got so caught up with Dad and Stephen and Pablo and … I’m sorry, Beth, I was being selfish. I didn’t think about you at all.’

  ‘You were thinking of your dad,’ she said. ‘And that so wasn’t selfish.’

  ‘Yeah, but …’

  ‘It’s OK,’ she said. ‘When I was in hospital that night I had plenty of time to think about my mum. She was probably a little kid back then and I’m guessing she was adorable.’

  ‘And you wanted to see her. I get that, and …’

  ‘I thought about seeing her, but then I changed my mind.’

  ‘I don’t understand.’

  ‘Well,’ said Beth. ‘Seeing my mum might make things really complicated. If I saw my mum in 1975, would she still remember me when she saw me in 1984? How weird would it be if she was nine years older then, but you and I were pretty much the same age?’

  ‘Very weird,’ I said. ‘But I don’t think little kids remember everything, do they?’

  ‘But it’s not just that. You see, Moll, I can only remember spending one day with my mum, and that day was so special to me. It was like a precious jewel, that I keep locked away inside me. When I’m feeling sad, I take it out in my mind and examine it. I can remember every single detail of that day. I can remember the sound of the river, and the smell of the food my great-grandmother prepared for us. I can remember every single word that my mum said. I can remember the way she brushed my hair and laughed at my lame jokes. That day was perfect, Molly, and whenever I think about it, I feel better. No matter what happens to me for the rest of my life, I will always have that special day with my mum. Does that sound stupid?’

  I hugged her so she wouldn’t see the tears in my eyes. ‘No, Beth,’ I said. ‘That doesn’t sound stupid. It sounds very, very smart.’

  ‘Thanks,’ she said.