The Moonlight Dreamers

by Siobhan Curham

  Liam held her hands. “Just be her mam,” he said softly. “She needs you. And you need her. What you pair have got as mother and daughter – that’s real. It counts. All that other nonsense” – he gestured to the door – “it’s not real. And it’s killing you.” Liam walked across the hallway. “I’ll see how Sky’s getting on. And I promise I’ll bring Rose back on Monday. Please let her have a bit of time and space to get over what’s happened.”

  “No,” Savannah said.

  Then Sky heard Savannah start to cry again.

  “I want you to take me with you.”

  Rose stared in the mirror, unsure whether her reflection made her want to laugh or cry. Strangely, the urge to laugh seemed to be winning. At first she’d cut her hair shoulder-length, but then she’d kept on going. It had felt great to cut away at her hair, and such a release from all the tension that she didn’t want to stop. Now she was rocking a jagged crop that at worst could be labelled “demented” and at best “prison inmate chic”. The sink was full of her golden locks. The inch or so of hair left on her head was dark brown. She looked like a completely new person. She leaned closer to the mirror. This new person looked nothing like the pouting girl in the photo. She looked edgy and serious. Rose stepped back. She felt lighter – physically and emotionally.

  She heard Liam’s and Sky’s voices, quickly scooped the hair out of the sink and went to meet them.

  “Hey,” she said as she saw Sky coming down the narrow passageway towards her.

  “Your hair!” Sky gasped.

  “Yeah, I felt like having a makeover,” Rose said as breezily as she could. “I was going for the—” She stopped abruptly. Her heart felt like it stopped beating. Liam was coming down the passageway. Behind him was Savannah. The hair Rose was holding drifted to the floor.

  “Rose, honey – what have you done?” Savannah cried, pushing past Liam and Sky.

  Rose waited for the “How could you?” and the “What were you thinking?” But instead Savannah’s eyes filled with tears.

  “I’m sorry,” she whispered.

  Rose looked at Sky and raised her eyebrows.

  Sky nodded. “It’s OK,” she mouthed.

  “I’m so sorry,” Savannah said again.

  Rose’s eyes filled with tears too. Every inch of her felt exhausted.

  “I tell you what,” Liam said. “Why don’t you two go down into Sky’s cabin and have a chat, and I’ll make us all some tea.”

  Once they were in the cabin Rose sat down on the bunk she’d slept in the previous night. Savannah perched on the edge of Sky’s bunk and looked around. Rose tensed. She’d better not say anything snooty.

  “This is nice,” Savannah said, picking up one of the patchwork cushions on Sky’s bed. “It reminds me of the caravan we stayed in when you were little.”

  “That’s exactly what I said!” Rose exclaimed. They looked at each other for a moment. Rose wished more than anything in the world that they could rewind time and be back in that caravan right now. Just her and her mom and dad. Before her parents got too famous to think straight. Before everything went wrong. She looked down. “Do you ever – do you ever wish you weren’t famous?” She flushed. What a dumb question. Savannah loved being the centre of attention.

  Rose glanced at her mother. She looked different. Like an older, faded version of herself.

  “Lately, yes,” Savannah replied.

  Rose felt a stab of guilt. “I didn’t put that photo on Instagram, Mom, I swear.”

  “I know you didn’t, and I’m so sorry I didn’t realize it from the start. But I wasn’t talking about that.” She sat back on the bunk. “Liam said something today, and although I didn’t want to hear it, I can’t get it out of my head because I think it might be true.”

  Rose leaned forward. It was ages since her mom had opened up to her like this. It felt weird, but kind of nice. “What was it?”

  “Antonio wanted you to come back for an interview. For my career. And Liam said, ‘What about what Rose needs?’ He was right.” Savannah sighed. “Being famous is like being a kid at your own birthday party, every single day. Everyone’s giving you all the gifts and all the attention. But eventually it has to be somebody else’s birthday, and then no one wants to make a fuss of you any more. And it hurts…”

  “Is that how you feel?”

  Savannah nodded. “And when your dad left, it was like the party had ended. It hurt so bad. And then the press started turning on me…”

  “It’s OK, Mom.” Rose crossed the cabin and sat down next to her.

  Savannah shook her head. “No, it’s not OK. It’s not OK at all. I’ve been taking it out on you, when you’re the last person I should have taken it out on. I’m so sorry. Look at what’s happened to you. That photo and” – she put a hand up to touch Rose’s ragged hair – “your beautiful hair.”

  “I kind of like it like this,” Rose said.

  Savannah put her hand up and stroked Rose’s head. “It is pretty fierce,” she said with a little laugh.

  Rose nuzzled her head against Savannah’s hand. It was so long since her mother had touched her, since they’d hugged or kissed or snuggled up together. As if reading her mind, Savannah shifted so that their legs were pressing against each other.

  “New start?” she asked quietly.

  Rose nodded. “New start.”

  “Who put that photo on Instagram, Rose? Who did that to you?”

  Rose gulped. She didn’t want to talk about it. She didn’t even want to think about it.

  “Was it that boy you’ve been seeing?”

  Rose nodded and swallowed hard. “I wish I’d never sent it to him, Mom. I only did it because … well, I was in a stupid mood. And then he got mad at me because I wouldn’t … I wouldn’t…”

  Savannah’s eyes widened. “Because you wouldn’t sleep with him?”

  Rose nodded.

  Savannah leapt to her feet and paced up and down the narrow cabin. “That little ass-wipe!”

  “Seriously, Mom, it’s OK.”

  “OK?” Savannah stopped pacing and stared at her. “Oh no, honey, it is not OK.” She came to a standstill in front of Rose and stared down at her. “He needs a punch in the mouth. Oh, I am so mad right now. Where does he live?”

  “Mom!”

  “What?”

  “You are not going round to Matt’s to punch him. I can handle it.”

  Savannah sat down next to her. “But you shouldn’t have to. You shouldn’t have to handle this on your own.”

  “I’m not on my own. I’ve got you guys.” Rose looked at Savannah cautiously. “Haven’t I?”

  Savannah took hold of Rose’s hand and linked their fingers together. “Of course.”

  They sat in silence for a moment. Liam’s laugh rang out from the other end of the boat.

  “He’s a lovely guy, you know,” Savannah said. “He’s really helping me see things more clearly.”

  Rose nodded. “Yeah. I guess he’s not too bad – for a hippy yoga teacher.”

  They both laughed. And Rose felt the faintest glimmer of hope that there might be a way back to their old closeness after all.

  From: halopoet@hotpost.com

  To: wildeatheart@googlepost.com; lakshmigirl@googlepost.com

  Date: Fri 6th November 16:05

  Subject: Poetry Slam – TONIGHT!!!

  Hi guys,

  I know this is really short notice, but I’ve entered a poetry slam, and it’s tonight, and I’d love it if you could come. Maybe we could have an impromptu Moonlight Dreamers meeting too? It’s at the Poetry Library on the Southbank (I’ve attached a link for directions) and it starts at 8 pm. It would be so great to see you there.

  Love,

  Sky xx

  Chapter Thirty-six

  “Are you sure you want to do this?” Sky asked Rose as a train drew into the platform. “I’d be more than happy to go back to the boat with you.”

  Rose looked at her from under the peak of her cap
. “Oh, no, you don’t,” she said.

  “What?”

  “Try and wriggle out of the poetry slam.”

  “I’m not,” Sky lied. The truth was, she was terrified, and with every second that ticked by, that terror was growing like a … like a… She was so terrified she couldn’t even think of a metaphor to describe it. “I just don’t want to drag you out after all that’s happened. I’d totally understand if you’d prefer to spend a night in.”

  Rose arched her eyebrows. “Are you kidding me? Playing dysfunctional families on the boat with our parents? No thanks!” The train juddered to a halt and the doors slid open. “I’d much rather be cheering you on. And anyway, who’s going to recognize me now?”

  Sky smiled, but she wondered if Rose was really as happy about her hair as she made out. She was certainly putting on a very brave face. They got on the train and sat down.

  “Are you nervous?” Rose asked.

  Sky shrugged. “No… Yes. I’m terrified.”

  Rose shifted sideways in her seat to look at her. “Don’t be. Your poems are awesome.”

  “How do you know?”

  “Because – well, you’re pretty awesome.” Rose grinned. “It’s funny to think how much I used to hate you.”

  Sky laughed. “Thanks!”

  “Sorry, I didn’t mean…”

  Sky shrugged. “It’s OK – I hated you too.”

  Rose pulled an expression of faux shock. “Really? But you’re a peace-loving hippy; you’re not supposed to hate anyone.”

  Sky nodded. “Yep, that’s how bad it was.” They both grinned. Sky lowered her voice. “So, is everything OK with your mum now?”

  Rose nodded. “I guess so. Your dad seems to have worked a miracle.”

  Sky smiled. “Yeah, my dad’s pretty good on the miracle front. Did Savannah tell you what he did to Antonio?”

  “Yes, I would have given anything to have seen that. I hate that man, he’s such a phoney.” Rose’s smile faded. “Do you think things will ever get back to normal?”

  “Of course,” Sky said, hoping with every fibre of her body that she was right.

  As Amber stepped onto Hungerford Bridge she felt the slightest prickle of something resembling hope. To her right, the Houses of Parliament shone gold against the night sky, like a palace from a gothic fairy tale. Across the river, the London Eye was lit up silvery blue as if coated in frost.

  “It’s so beautiful,” Maali gasped, turning a full 360 degrees to take it all in.

  Amber nodded and watched as Maali pulled a camera from her bag.

  “Doesn’t being here make you feel as if anything is possible?” Maali said, pressing up against the railings to take a picture of Westminster.

  “I suppose so.” Amber watched as Maali sprang from one position to the next taking photos. It was a relief to see her looking happy again. All the way up on the train she’d seemed so different: quieter, and not smiling. Was she making Maali that way? Maybe she was such a loser that she even made Maali sad.

  Amber joined Maali by the railings. Further along the bridge a busker was performing. She could just make out the strains of a Bob Dylan song above the chatter of people walking by.

  “What do you do if your dream doesn’t come true?” Maali asked suddenly. “How do you move on?”

  Amber took a breath. What did you do? This was a question she’d been unable to answer for the past couple of days. “Find another dream, I guess,” she muttered as visions of Paris and Daniel went swirling down a giant plughole in her mind.

  “But what if…?” Maali looked into the distance.

  “What?”

  “Never mind.” Maali put her camera back in her bag. “Come on. We don’t want to be late.”

  The Poetry Library was on the fifth floor of the Royal Festival Hall. As the lift door opened Maali said a quick prayer to Lakshmi: Please let Rose be here and please let her be OK. The library was packed. Maali scanned the chairs for Sky and Rose.

  “Hello, everybody,” a woman dressed head to toe in black said into a microphone.

  Maali and Amber hastily sat down at the back.

  “There’s Sky,” Amber said, pointing to the front. There was no sign of Rose.

  Sky’s stomach had been doing a very good impression of a pancake being flipped. Now it morphed into a washing machine drum on spin cycle.

  “Welcome to the November slam,” the host continued.

  She looked so confident. How was she so confident when there were so many people?

  “We’ve got some great poets lined up for you tonight. Some old favourites and some brand new to the Poetry Library.” The woman gazed out into the audience. “To anyone new to poetry slams, here’s how it works. We start with twelve poets performing one poem each. Our four judges will award them points on the content and performance. The top six will go through to the second round and perform a different poem. The top three from that round will go through to the final.”

  Sky looked at the microphone standing centre stage, ready and waiting for the poets. When she’d visualized her dream at the Moonlight Dreamers meeting it had seemed so easy, but now… Now she could imagine how a prisoner on death row felt.

  “You OK?” Rose whispered in her ear.

  Sky nodded. What if she forgot the words? What were the words? Oh my God, she couldn’t even remember the title. Her mind had turned into a giant fog.

  “And first up…”

  Please don’t let it be me, Sky silently pleaded.

  “First up, we have someone making her debut at a Poetry Library slam, so please give her a nice warm welcome – Halo!”

  Sky got to her feet amid scattered applause.

  “Is that you?” Rose hissed.

  Sky nodded. Somehow, her feet were still working and somehow, they carried her up onto the stage. Then she was standing behind the microphone, in front of the crowd, just like in her visualization.

  “Hi. I’m Halo.” Sky’s voice squeaked. She cleared her throat. “And my poem’s called ‘Awaken Your Sleeping Beauty’.” She took a deep breath and closed her eyes. Maybe if she pretended she was back in her bedroom performing the poem to the tree it wouldn’t be so scary.

  “Beauty doesn’t come trimmed and plucked and nipped and tucked,” she began. Her mouth had suddenly gone so dry she could barely get the words out. “Beauty flows wild and raw with the pure power of oceans. Beauty – er – beauty revels in its imperfections.” Sky focused hard, trying not to lose her place. It was only when she was more than halfway through that she thought about the audience. She had to open her eyes. She was being marked on her performance as well as the poem. Sky forced them open, blinking at the brightness of the spotlight.

  “Beauty blows…” Sky’s mind went blank. What did beauty blow? She gazed out blankly into the crowd and saw one of the judges shaking his head. Her face flushed. What would happen if she just left the stage right now, mid-line, mid-poem? Surely it would be less painful for everyone? But then she spotted some movement at the back of the audience. Maali! She was standing up and waving something. Amber was sitting next to her. Sky felt a jolt of determination. She wasn’t going to run off stage. She was a Moonlight Dreamer. She took a deep breath and suddenly the words came.

  “Beauty blows heart-shaped smoke-rings in Pretty’s face and says, ‘Come back when you’ve lived a little.’ ” There was a murmur of something from the audience and it didn’t feel hostile, so Sky carried on. “Beauty isn’t skin-deep, it’s bone-deep, heart-deep, soul-deep.” Sky heard someone give a whoop and saw Rose grinning up at her.

  AWAKEN YOUR SLEEPING BEAUTY

  BY SKY CASSIDY

  Beauty doesn’t come trimmed and plucked and nipped and tucked

  Beauty flows wild and raw with the pure power of oceans

  Beauty revels in its imperfections.

  Beauty isn’t created with an airbrush or Photoshop –that’s its soulless second cousin, Perfection.

  Beauty beats and vibrates and pulses
and glows

  It lights up rooms and transforms lives

  It lives in laughter lines and freckles and scars

  Beauty revels in its imperfections.

  Beauty is woven into our emotional wounds

  As golden threads of wisdom

  And sings aloud in acts of compassion.

  Beauty blows heart-shaped smoke-rings in Pretty’s face

  And says, “Come back when you’ve lived a little.”

  Beauty isn’t skin-deep

  It’s bone-deep

  Heart-deep

  Soul-deep,

  Only put to sleep

  When we prick our finger on fear.

  Beauty can’t be bought or made.

  It can only be awoken

  Through laughter, and living, and love.

  Through being you

  And being true.

  Chapter Thirty-seven

  “You were great,” Amber said, patting Sky on the back and instantly thinking oh-crap-that’s-such-a-Gerald-thing-to-do. She was having a lot of these moments lately and it was making her skin crawl.

  “No, I wasn’t.” Sky laughed. “I was awful. What was it the second judge said? I need to open my eyes and learn how to breathe.”

  “Pompous idiot,” Rose muttered, glaring over at the judges. “I wanted to sock him one when he said that.”

  Amber stared at Rose curiously. Maali had told her that there was a photo of Rose in a newspaper that morning, but when Amber said that she hadn’t seen it, Maali had quickly changed the subject. She wondered if it had anything to do with Rose’s bizarre haircut. Whatever it was, it was a relief to see her being nice to Sky for once.

  “Why don’t we go someplace else?” Rose said. “Unless you want to hang out here and see the second round.”

  Sky shook her head. “I think I’m all poetry slammed out.”

  “You should have gone through to the next round,” Maali said. “You were great once you got going.”

  “Yeah, once I saw you,” Sky replied with a smile.

  “Did you see what I was waving?” Maali pulled the moonstone from her coat pocket. “It must have worked its magic again.”

  “Is that what it was?” Sky laughed. “Well, it definitely helped. Come on, let’s go.”