Me Myself Milly

by Penelope Bush

  All the time that I was wondering what to do next, Devlin was just standing there next to me. I started to walk, just to make it look like I had a plan in mind. Devlin was looking at the shops as we went past but he didn’t seem to want to go into any of them. We ended up near the river and I had a brainwave.

  ‘I know, let’s go on a river cruise, then you can see the city from there.’

  You can get a boat from the weir. We were approaching Grand Parade where you can lean on the stone balustrade and look down on the river and the weir. The weir is sort of crescent-shaped but like a crescent that someone’s squeezed inwards so it’s long and thin. There are three steps that the river cascades over and I love looking at it. I could sit all day just looking at it.

  Devlin followed me to the balustrade but didn’t lean over it like I was doing. I pointed out the boat which was moored in the calm water beside the weir.

  ‘So what do you think? Do you fancy a river trip?’

  ‘No thanks,’ Devlin said. I noticed that his eyes had turned a shade darker.

  ‘Oh go on, it’ll be fun,’ I told him.

  Devlin didn’t reply. He just turned his back on the river. This was hopeless. How could I show someone around when they didn’t want to do anything? Then I thought, what if it’s just that he doesn’t want to do it with me? I wondered about going home and leaving him to get on with it on his own. I bet that’s what Lily would have done. Mum would be furious, though. She’d say it was a really rude thing to do, even if I explained that it was Devlin who was rude by being so uncooperative and unfriendly.

  Maybe I’d been suggesting the wrong things. If Devlin was into sport I should be thinking along those lines. Trouble is, I don’t do much sport myself and the only thing I could think of was the Thermae Spa Bath. I’d been there a few times with Mum and Lily and loved it.

  The swimming pool is warm because it’s fed from the thermal springs, but the best thing about it is that it’s built on the rooftop so you can swim around looking down on the Abbey and the rest of the city. I thought about what it would be like to go there with Devlin. If I was honest I didn’t much fancy swimming myself but I’d do it if I had to, so I explained about the pool to Devlin and asked him if he wanted to go.

  He just shook his head and gave me a really dark look like he couldn’t even be bothered to talk to me any more.

  I was practically in tears; tears of frustration and embarrassment. What was his problem? I couldn’t believe I ever wanted to be friends with him. Perhaps he thought I fancied him and he wanted to make it clear that the feeling wasn’t mutual and that’s why he was being so unfriendly. Well, I’d show him that I didn’t fancy him, or even like him.

  A tour bus had just pulled in at the bus stop at the end of the parade. I didn’t bother asking Devlin if he wanted to go on it. I just grabbed his sleeve and pulled him on. It was an open-topped bus and I marched upstairs with Devlin following behind. I stood back and wordlessly offered him the window seat, or what would have been if there had been any windows. When he’d sat down I took the seat behind him. I didn’t care if I was being rude, I was fed up. Let the tour guide tell him about the city; I’d had enough.

  So for the next hour the bus trundled around the sights and I sat staring at the back of Devlin’s head, wondering what was going on inside of it. He just sat looking ahead all the time like he wasn’t interested in anything, which made me cross because I like my home town and he could at least have made an effort. Mind you, he did look a bit more relaxed than he had earlier and I could only conclude that it was because I wasn’t sitting next to him.

  When the bus pulled up in the Orange Grove, which is where we’d started, we got off and headed for Pulteney Bridge and home. We hadn’t spoken to each other since before we’d got on the bus, which made it very hard to break the silence. We walked along Grand Parade but not on the side that overlooks the river, which meant that we had to cross the road at the end by the Art Gallery. We were waiting for the lights to change, even though there wasn’t masses of traffic around, when a man came running up the street. Now, normally there’s nothing very odd about a man running up the street, but this particular man was wearing a wedding dress. A full, white, frothy wedding dress which he was holding up above his knees so he could run faster. He had hairy legs, short hair and a beard, and for a moment I wondered for some obscure reason if it was my dad.

  I decided to play it really cool and pretend that there was nothing unusual about a man running up the street wearing a wedding dress. I mean, Devlin comes from Los Angeles and stuff like that probably happens there all the time.

  The man had ran straight past us and carried on up Bridge Street. I half turned to watch him, because I couldn’t help myself, and that’s when I caught Devlin’s eye and we started laughing. It was weird seeing Devlin laugh. Weird but nice.

  Anyhow, the man in the wedding dress had certainly broken the ice because we spent the next few minutes speculating about him, but neither of us could come up with a good explanation as to why he was wearing a wedding dress or why he was running.

  By this time we’d crossed the bridge, and because we were talking to each other and I didn’t want the whole day to have been a disaster, I suggested we go for a coffee as we were about to pass my favourite café. I regretted it as soon as I’d said it because I thought Devlin was going to say, ‘No thanks,’ again, like he had to everything else. But he didn’t, he said, ‘Yeah, why not?’, so I led him down some steps which come out above the river on the other side from the Parade. There’s a little café halfway down where you can get a drink and have it overlooking the river and the weir.

  Because the café is so small you can hardly ever get a seat inside and besides, I like looking over the railings. I thought everything was going fine until we got down to the café and I looked back to ask Devlin what he wanted.

  I could tell immediately, from the look on his face, that he’d closed down again.

  What had I done? He’d said he wanted a coffee and now he was being all weird again. For a brief moment he’d been fine, actually fun for about five minutes while we were discussing the wedding-dress thing.

  Just as I got to the front of the queue one of the small tables inside the café became free. Devlin scooted over to it and sat down. I wanted to sit outside but Devlin looked rooted to the spot, so I bought the coffees and took them over.

  The drinks weren’t too hot, which was a relief because I think we were both desperate to finish them and go. I didn’t know why I’d thought this would be a good idea. The funny, friendly Devlin had disappeared.

  I tried talking to him but he was strangely preoccupied; all silent and brooding. It occurred to me that he might have a girlfriend back home and he was feeling guilty about having coffee with me. I wanted to ask him but I didn’t have the nerve. I stirred my coffee and decided I needed to get a grip. What did it matter if Devlin didn’t like me?

  When we left he started walking really fast and I had to practically run to keep up with him. He was obviously desperate to get home and away from me.

  We said goodbye and he went in through the front door and I went down the basement steps, which felt weird because we were going into the same house.

  I used to fancy a boy at school. His name was Ben and I couldn’t stop thinking about him. I never told anyone how much I fancied him, not even Lily. He was in the year above us, so I only ever saw him in assembly or during break and lunchtimes or on the bus. He didn’t get on our bus but that was the best time, because I could sit on the bus pretending to gaze out of the window, when really I was looking at him while he waited at the bus stop.

  Lily was always telling me which boys she fancied and she’d even been out with some of them, but I never told her about Ben. He was my secret. He was special and I didn’t want to ruin it by talking about him. I daydreamed all the time about meeting up with him, maybe in the park or bumping into him in town and walking round together, and how he’d hold my hand or put
his arm round me or buy me a bracelet that I could wear all the time to remind me of him.

  Writing about it now makes it sound pathetic but it wasn’t.

  But then one night, when we were doing our homework, Lily said, ‘Have you seen that boy in year ten? Ben. He’s drop-dead gorgeous.’

  I pretended I didn’t know who she was talking about, but my heart and my brain were in turmoil.

  Was she winding me up? Did she somehow know? And why was she calling him ‘drop-dead gorgeous’? Lily didn’t normally say things like that; she was more likely to say she wouldn’t mind a piece of him or something more crude. I sensed a trap.

  ‘So you’re not interested in him, then?’ she asked.

  ‘I might be – if I knew who you meant,’ I said in what I hoped was a bored-sounding voice.

  She let it drop and we carried on with our homework. I was more careful after that. I stopped gazing at him out of the bus window; I sat on the other side and I mentioned a few other boys to put her off the scent.

  But about a month after that the worst thing happened. I was eating my lunch when I looked up and saw Lily talking to him. They were too far away for me to hear what was being said but I didn’t need to. Everything about Lily made it obvious. She was standing quite close to him and looking up at him through her eyelashes. God! And she was twisting a strand of hair round and round her finger at the same time. Pathetic! She looked like some idiot heroine out of a gushy romance film.

  I couldn’t eat any more of my lunch and I didn’t talk to her for the rest of the day, but she didn’t seem to notice. When I got on the bus I couldn’t stop myself from sitting on the pavement side to get a look at him. Then I wished I hadn’t because Lily was there, talking to him again. She nearly missed the bus, but she jumped on at the last minute and flung herself into the seat next to me looking so smug I could have slapped her.

  I turned my back on her and as the bus pulled away I caught a glimpse of Ben, and I’m pretty sure I wasn’t imagining it but I thought he looked ecstatic.

  Lily kept that smug look all the way home until we got indoors, then she said, ‘You know that boy you’ve fancied for ever? Well, I’ve only gone and got you a date with him!’

  I must have been standing with my mouth open, gaping moronically.

  ‘Don’t look so horrified, it was easy. I think he must have fancied you for ages.’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘Well, you know you’ve been mooning over him and everything? I knew you’d never do anything about it so I thought I’d help you out. I was talking to him . . .’

  ‘You mean flirting with him!’ I practically yelled. Lily looked hurt.

  ‘Well, yes . . . I was. But it’s all right because he thought he was talking to you.’

  ‘And how, exactly, does that make it all right?’

  ‘Don’t you see?’ said Lily. ‘He asked me out . . . at the bus stop; which means he was asking you out because he thought I was you. I told him I was Milly and I made my skirt look longer and I was really nice . . .’

  ‘You weren’t being like me! I wouldn’t have flirted with him!’

  ‘No, and you’d never have got anywhere. I’ve got you a date and you’ve got about an hour to get ready,’ she said, looking at the clock. ‘Then you’re to meet him in front of the cathedral.’

  What! I couldn’t believe it. My head was spinning.

  Things deteriorated pretty fast after that. Lily couldn’t understand why I wasn’t pleased and I couldn’t get through to her that it was none of her business and she’d ruined everything.

  ‘God, Milly. I thought I was doing you a favour. Why can’t you just be glad and go on the date! What is your problem?’

  I couldn’t tell her because I didn’t know. All I knew was that I’d been perfectly happy before and now I wasn’t.

  ‘You go on the date, then!’ I screamed at her. ‘Seeing as you’re so keen on him.’

  Lily looked crestfallen. ‘I’m sorry, I thought it was what you wanted. I was just trying to help.’

  ‘Well you haven’t and I’m not going!’

  ‘You can’t leave him standing there,’ said Lily, ‘It’s not fair. You’ll have to go.’

  ‘I don’t have to. You made the date – you go!’

  Why didn’tI go on that date? It was what I’d been dreaming about for so long. Maybe that was the problem; maybe I knew that in my daydreams everything was perfect and I was scared that the reality wouldn’t match up to the fantasy. Or maybe I was just plain scared. Scared of meeting up with a boy, scared of making a fool of myself and scared of disappointing him because I was me and not Lily.

  I went into the bedroom, lay on the bed and turned my face to the wall. I heard Lily come in and get ready to go out, then I felt her sit on the side of my bed.

  ‘Please go.’

  I ignored her and she sighed.

  ‘I’m going now. I’ll let him down gently,’ said Lily, ‘but I can’t live your life for you, Milly.’ And she was gone.

  Huh. She’d done a pretty good job of it so far, I thought.

  I don’t know what she said to Ben because I never asked her and she didn’t tell me; she just carried on afterwards like nothing had ever happened between us.

  But she was right. Only I can live my life – especially now, after what happened.

  I think I’m ready to write about it now.

  Chapter Twelve

  Lily wasn’t around when I got in. I went into the bedroom and opened the front of the doll’s house. I hadn’t replaced Jeanie and David with Mr and Mrs Wade and Devlin and it was bothering me.

  I got the shoebox out from under the bed and picked out three random dolls. I didn’t care any more which ones I used, I just wanted to make up the numbers. Then I spotted a small plastic model of Eeyore on the windowsill. Perfect. I was going to use that for Devlin; it would serve him right for being such a grump.

  There was a part of me that didn’t want to bother with this stupid ritual any more. Up until recently it had been a good way of keeping track of who was living in the house, which seemed pointless now. Devlin obviously didn’t want anything to do with us.

  Before I put the new dolls in and there was just us downstairs, it hit me as to exactly how small my family had become. Not for the first time I began to wonder about grandparents. I’d got used to not knowing who my dad was and accepted the fact that I’d never know. His parents were never going to be grandparents to us, but Mum’s parents had to be somewhere. Before, whenever we’d asked about them, Mum always shrugged off our questions and said it wasn’t important. Well, she was wrong. It had suddenly become very important. What if something happened to Mum?

  I found her in the sitting room reading a book. She looked up when I came in and I said, ‘Mum, I want to talk to you.’ She put her book down.

  ‘What is it?’

  ‘I want to know about your mum and dad. I mean, they’re my grandparents and I’ve never met them. I don’t know anything about them and I think I have a right to know.’

  Mum looked through me for a whole minute, like she was thinking really hard. Eventually she said, ‘They’re called Eileen and Frank Pond and they live in Wimbledon.’

  I couldn’t believe it. It was that easy.

  ‘So how come I’ve never met them?’

  Mum sighed. ‘It’s complicated.’

  ‘How do you mean?’ It didn’t sound very complicated to me.

  ‘The thing is, when I got pregnant they didn’t approve because I wasn’t married. We argued. Milly, shut your mouth, it’s hanging open.’ I closed my mouth.

  ‘I know what you’re going to say,’ Mum continued. ‘This is the twenty-first century and all that, but you have to understand that they’re from a different generation. Actually, they’re quite old. I was adopted, which was something they didn’t tell me until I got pregnant and then it all came out.’

  Mum looked cross, like she was remembering the awful scene and I felt guilty for rem
inding her about it.

  ‘Anyway, things were said, hurtful things, and we haven’t really been in touch since.’

  ‘Okay, sorry,’ I said and went back to my room.

  I brought it up with Ted on my next visit.

  ‘So what’s the problem?’ he said.

  ‘I don’t know. It’s not like I’ve lost anything. I’ve never had grandparents, and I still don’t have any. But I sort of thought they were dead or something and then I found out they weren’t, they were living in Wimbledon, and just for a second I thought perhaps I could go and see them.’

  ‘Would your mum mind if you contacted them?’

  ‘I don’t know. Probably, you know what she’s like; stubborn as hell. Besides, what if I got in touch with them and then I didn’t like them? It would be embarrassing. I think it’s best if I just forget about the whole thing.’

  ‘How’s the journal going?’ asked Ted.

  ‘I’m working on it,’ I told him. Ted asking made me feel prickly and I wondered if that’s how Mum feels when people ask her how her next book’s going.

  I sort of want to write about what happened, but at the same time it scares me. I’m going to try though. I might start on it tonight.

  Lily and I were in the kitchen, trying to scrape together a picnic.

  Lily had woken up early and shaken me until I woke up too, and told me we were going on an adventure.

  It’s true it was unseasonably cold that day, Sunday, April 20th. Lily was unstoppable though and pulled all the covers off my bed to prevent me from snuggling back down to sleep. Sunday was a lie-in day and I reluctantly got dressed. She wouldn’t tell me where we were going, it was a surprise.

  I think she was hoping that we’d be able to sneak out before anyone else woke up and asked where we were going. But the sun was out and when we got to the kitchen Jeanie was in the backyard, hanging out some sheets on the line.