by Gina Blaxill
The whole thing left me reeling, but very slowly I began to accept that there was nothing left for me to do but try to get on with my life – without Dani.
And maybe that’s the way things would have gone if, four months later, I hadn’t found the memory stick.
Summer. Weeks and weeks off school. Sunshine, Cornettos and flip-flops. Holidays abroad for the lucky ones. Muggy days that feel endless, hanging out with friends in the park. Fun. That’s what summer should be, but this year it just wasn’t working for me.
As well as coping with my grief I felt like I was at a crossroads, that everything was in flux. Everyone was waiting for their GCSE results. The exams had gone better than expected in the end, but I still couldn’t see myself doing that well – English in particular had been a nightmare. Half of my year at Broom Hill High were leaving to go to colleges rather than staying on for the sixth form, which didn’t have a great reputation. Lots of the teachers had gone on about how A levels and BTECs were a huge stepping stone and how the subjects we chose now could determine the rest of our lives. I wasn’t sure I bought the idea that we were taking control; everyone still treated us like kids. Especially me – as a foster-kid I wasn’t allowed to make my own decisions. I’d had to sit down with my social worker and come up with a ‘Pathway Plan’, supposedly to help me prepare for independent life when I turned eighteen and left care. Lorraine had strong opinions about what was best for me, and after a frustrated hour of trying to explain I had no idea where I wanted to be in two years, I gave up and let her take over. Biology, geography and law A levels would be as good as anything else.
Apart from helping out in the Save the Animals charity shop, something I’d been doing on-off ever since I’d come to live with Julie almost a year and a half ago, I had very little to do. I’d seen my old classmates down the high street. They’d invited me to join them, but after a couple of long afternoons sunbathing in the park I got restless. I’d rather be doing something. Hanging out is kind of empty when the people aren’t really your friends; nothing gets said that you remember, and time seems to drag. It was easier for them if I wasn’t around, anyway; putting up with someone who’d had a family member die was a real downer. It would have been easier if Dani had been knocked down by a car or had some kind of accident. That it had been suicide seemed to reflect on me somehow – especially as I had a reputation for being a bit crazy myself. The girls were clearly trying to treat me sensitively, but that just smacked home how different I was from them. It made me feel I would never be a normal teenager again.
I kept wondering how the summer break would have been different if Danielle was still here. Maybe we could have spent the summer in Bournemouth, just us – hanging out in town, clothes shopping, watching DVDs, the relaxed kind of stuff we didn’t always fit into the weekends and evenings we spent together. Dani could be very inconsistent, sometimes going into moods that meant I wouldn’t see her for weeks. But the absent patches had been worth it for the good ones, when she would be incredibly sweet, showering me with gifts and affection.
Instead I had my classmates and lots of school gossip I didn’t want to hear. It just reminded me that I’d have to go back to Broom Hill, making me dread the end of the holidays even more than I was already. It was times like these that made me wish Reece hadn’t left halfway through Year 10. Paloma, a girl who’d been in my class, had asked after him when I’d joined her gang in the park recently. Everyone still remembered Reece. His run-ins with teachers were legendary. One particular highlight was the time he calmly walked out of a history lesson and returned with an Internet printout that disproved what the teacher had just said about the causes of World War One. Reece had been excluded for that little stunt.
‘So,’ Paloma said, ‘you still talk? You and Reece used to be totally buddy-buddy.’
‘Yeah, well, that was before he buggered off to posh school,’ I said. I knew I was being a little unfair – Reece had kicked up a huge fuss about being moved to Berkeley School for Boys, threatening his mother with a hunger strike and other ridiculous things. We’d stayed friends for a while, even arranging that Bournemouth trip so we could spend some proper time together. ‘I’m fed up with him and his stupid new friends,’ I added.
‘Didn’t seem like he’d changed last time I saw him, a couple of weeks before my party,’ Paloma said. ‘You were matey enough then.’
I started to make a daisy chain, not meeting her eyes. There was more to our falling-out, but I wasn’t confiding in Paloma. I liked her best out of the girls from school because she stuck up for me – Paloma was sometimes teased about her weight, so she knew a thing or two about fighting back – but she did have a big mouth. Eventually she got the message and changed the subject, but I knew she’d try to get the full story later. When she invited me to the cinema the next day, I passed. Julie would have bugged me about that if she’d known. She was worried I didn’t seem to have many friends. It wasn’t true – there were always people for me to hang out with if I wanted – but I just wasn’t close to anyone. Not like I had been to Dani, or to Reece.
I think maybe the reason I don’t have many friends is that people are always so curious about my life. In the old days kids wanted to know what it was like to be in care, especially as I sometimes exaggerated the less pleasant bits. More recently I guess people just noticed me because I was different. Once I skived off school and went to Hampstead Heath instead, but I didn’t get into trouble. Broom Hill’s head teacher thought I was ‘troubled’, so he just sent me to have a long talk with the school counsellor. The other kids really resented that and said I’d got off easy. I used not to care about gossip, because people said stuff about Reece as well, but it’s not so easy putting on a front on your own. Especially as since Paloma’s party everyone really did have gossip about me. Horrible, embarrassing, true gossip.
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
As usual there are some special people who have helped Saving Silence transform from a ragtag manuscript into a proper novel that can sit proudly on a shelf. There are less of them this time, as writing this novel has been a pretty smooth process, but their contributions are no less valuable for it.
My parents, Sheila and David, have once again acted as sounding boards for my ideas and spotted things that don’t make sense at an early stage. They are probably very relieved that this book involved less endless ‘I’m stuck!’ sessions.
My editor, Becky Bagnell, also deserves a tip of the hat for as usual providing me with ongoing support from my initial synopsis to the finished novel.
Both my editors, Rachel Kellehar and Rachel Petty, for doing sterling edits at different stages and making Saving Silence into a better book with their suggestions and ideas.
All the other lovely people at Macmillan who have helped with other parts of the book’s journey, thank you to you too.
Finally, thanks to all my friends and colleagues who have been interested and encouraging at various stages. Knowing people are on my side is not only cool, but helps keep me motivated – so thank you.
About the Author
GINA BLAXILL lives in London. She has an English degree from Cambridge University and now works in schools liaison, helping teenagers puzzle out the mysteries of higher education. Between the ages of eleven and fifteen she wrote an epic thirty-six-part story featuring over 1,000 characters – she still remembers most of their names!
Saving Silence is Gina’s third novel for young adults.
Books by Gina Blaxill
Pretty Twisted
Forget Me Never
Saving Silence
First published 2013 by Macmillan Children’s Books
a division of Macmillan Publishers Limited
20 New Wharf Road, London N1 9RR
Basingstoke and Oxford
Associated companies throughout the world
www.panmacmillan.com
ISBN 978-1-4472-0884-6
Copyright © Gina Blaxill 2013
The right of Gina Blaxill
to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted by her in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise), without the prior written permission of the publisher. Any person who does any unauthorized act in relation to this publication may be liable to criminal prosecution and civil claims for damages.
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A CIP catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.
Printed and bound by CPI Group (UK) Ltd, Croydon CR0 4YY
This book is sold subject to the condition that it shall not, by way of trade or otherwise, be lent, resold, hired out, or otherwise circulated without the publisher’s prior consent in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition including this condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.
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All rights reserved. This publication (or any part of it) may not be reproduced or transmitted, copied, stored, distributed or otherwise made available by any person or entity (including Google, Amazon or similar organisations), in any form (electronic, digital, optical, mechanical) or by any means (photocopying, recording, scanning or otherwise) without prior written permission from the publisher.
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Cataloguing-in-Publication entry is available
from the National Library of Australia
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Saving Silence
Gina Blaxill
EPUB format: 9781447208846
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