‘Don’t be mad at me, Molly,’ he said.
I walked away. All I could think about was Igor’s head smacked against the brick, Luca shouting at me and being left out with the wolves. It was my own fault really; I should never have trusted him. I should never trust anyone.
I could hear him getting to his feet; then I felt his hand on my shoulder. I knocked it off. When I looked back at him my jaw was clenched. No one was ever going to touch me again. I carried on walking.
‘I’m a psycho!’ he cried.
I looked back. His chest was heaving in and out like he’d been running for miles. I stood sideways, not sure which way to go. He walked up to me and placed his trumpet case on the ground before kneeling down and unbuckling the lock. He opened the case out flat, not even trying to hide what was inside.
I knelt too, putting Boy down beside me. The case was full of pieces of paper, and bottles and boxes of what looked like medication. There were neatly printed labels that read ‘MR L. BARGATE’, like the ones in his parents’ bathroom. The bottles were filled with brightly coloured pills. The paper was covered with handwriting and shredded along the edges. I went to pick out a piece. Luca was prickly about it, but nodded. The first one said Do not pay heed to people with green eyes. The next one: Daisies. Sunflowers. Daisies. Blood. I picked up one more, pulling it out by the corners: The thing that makes us human is SHAME.
Luca kept his head low. He patted the heap.
‘They’re my thoughts,’ he said. ‘Or at least some of them.’
The sun glinted off the lenses of his glasses. It looked like he had no eyes, like he was an eyeless, soulless man.
‘Before I met you …’ he began, but he was too tense to finish.
He dropped his shoulders and tried again.
‘Before I met you I was in a mental health ward,’ he said. ‘I’m not very well, Molly.’
I put the pieces of paper back in the case.
‘I know,’ I said.
He frowned.
‘How do you know?’
I shook my head.
‘I told you before,’ I said. ‘I don’t care.’
He thought about this a second.
‘I guess you’ve figured out there isn’t any fortune either?’
He looked kind of hopeful, as though he wanted me to still believe it. It was only then – as he looked at me full of anticipation – that I realized I’d never believed it. The hope drained out of his face.
‘I thought it was real,’ he said. ‘My granddad used to always leave me little codes everywhere so when he left me this case, with the key and the map—’
‘Sheet music,’ I corrected.
His eyes widened.
‘I thought it was a map,’ he said. ‘I thought there was a code in the notes. I thought it was leading me here. Then, on the train, I thought I saw someone following us. Then I thought it was Igor. It seemed to make sense. It seemed real. That’s the scariest part, when it seems so real.’
He sighed heavily.
‘Why did you come?’ he asked. ‘If you knew there wasn’t any fortune, why did you stay with me all this time?’
I could feel the tightness in my throat. I stood up, about to walk away again, but the sun passed behind a cloud and I could see through his lenses to his wet, pigeon eyes. I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t stay mad with him.
‘I liked you,’ I said.
Luca sniffed.
‘I’ve really messed up, haven’t I?’
I wanted to tell him that he hadn’t, that everything was OK, but it wouldn’t be true. I’ve been making excuses for the rest of the world for too long.
‘I’ve got to go, Luca,’ I said.
‘Wait.’
He pushed his fingers beneath his glasses and rubbed at his eyes before fiddling through his pockets. When he got up he handed me three twenty-pound notes.
‘I took it out before the card was cancelled,’ he said. ‘Like an emergency reserve.’
I shook my head.
‘I can’t take it.’
‘Yes, you bloody can. Besides, I’ve got the car. I’ll take it home, say sorry. Then Mummy and Daddy can take care of me just like they’ve always wanted. Sorted.’
He smiled and looked down at the money. I had enough to get back to Nottingham but I liked letting Luca think he’d helped me. The same way that he was trying to pretend he’d go home even though I knew he wasn’t ever going back there. I curled my fingers around the notes.
‘Sorted,’ I said.
He didn’t let go and we both stood there holding the money as though we were holding on to each other.
‘It’s been great, Molly,’ he said. ‘Really something.’
He let go and bent down to close his trumpet case. Except he couldn’t really close it because Boy was sniffing inside it.
‘Wait,’ I said.
I dropped on to my knees. Boy had her paw on something, a small compartment built into the lid, covered in the same crushed velvet as the lining.
‘What’s that?’ I said.
Boy took her paw off. Luca stared at the box and then stuck out his bottom lip and shrugged. I pulled the chain from around my neck, and pushed the key gently into the hole on top. It slipped right in.
‘You’re kidding me!’ Luca said.
I left the key sitting in the lock and sat back on my heels. I’ve always seen the things no one else can. I took a deep breath and nodded at Luca. He nodded back; then he turned the key and lifted the lid.
Inside was a clear plastic bag. It had been folded so you couldn’t see the contents. Luca pulled it out of the box and unfolded it. The bag spread out like a piece of wrapping paper, bigger and bigger until you could see a lump of metal and the bright shape of something fabric with patterns across it, and a black and white card. Luca held it close to his glasses.
‘It’s a mouthpiece and a bow tie,’ he said. ‘Granddad never wore bow ties.’
‘What’s on the card?’ I asked.
Luca pushed his hand into the bag. He pulled out the objects one by one. He’d been right: there was the mouthpiece to a trumpet, brassy and smooth, and an undone bow tie with paisley patterns all across it. The card had a picture of Louis Armstrong on it; in the corner was his autograph and a short message written in pen: ‘To a great student and friend.’
Buildings lifted from their foundations, the sea spinning around us in a blur of wild colours as we knelt, frozen on the beach.
‘I knew it!’ Luca said, nearly throwing the objects into the air.
I laughed.
‘Be careful!’ I said. ‘They must be valuable.’
Luca’s expression became serious.
‘Stu always made out Granddad was crazy. But it was true. This is proof that it was true.’
He collected the pieces and clung on to them real tight.
‘I know, Luca, but be careful.’
He looked down at his hands before pushing the card, mouthpiece and bow tie back into the centre of the bag, trying to fold the plastic in the same way as he’d found it. He placed the bundle into the secret compartment, clicking the lid shut and hanging the key around his neck. We both knelt there, staring down at the box. Then Luca looked up at me.
‘What should we do now?’ he said.
It was the first time he’d asked my opinion.
‘Let’s go for a walk,’ I said.
Luca was bouncing as we made our way down the beach. His trumpet case was strapped over his shoulder, covering the ‘EAS’ on his REASON T-shirt. I knew he was getting the wrong idea. Now that we’d found the fortune, he thought it was all fixed. But nothing was fixed because the two of us were still broken. The hairline fractures weren’t hairlines at all; they were fault lines running down the landscapes of our souls.
I walked right up to the water and, even though I knew he was scared of that big rolling sea, Luca followed. I didn’t say anything, just felt the wind knock against my body and listened to the sound of the water lapping t
he coast. I bent down, untying the laces on my red canvas shoes.
‘Look, Molly,’ Luca said. ‘I’m going to go back on the medication. I was stupid to come off it anyway. I’ll get myself straight and then … Maybe then we can …’
I took off my shoes and socks and stepped over the bundle of them as they lay on the sand. The water tickled my toes, cold and foamy.
‘Then we can …?’ I said.
Luca smiled as though it was obvious.
‘Be together,’ he said.
I smiled back.
‘I’m no good for you, Luca,’ I said.
He shook his head with a sudden panic.
‘That’s not true!’ he said. ‘I’ve never been as well as when I’m with you. You don’t want to know what I’m usually like.’
The smell of candyfloss floated in the wind as the funfair came alive. I could see the clunking of the Ferris wheel as it turned on the horizon.
‘Besides, I wouldn’t have found those things without you,’ he said. ‘I was right in choosing you. I was right in trusting you.’
I looked back out at the sea. The wind tossed my hair back and forth.
‘I’m sorry about last night,’ he said. ‘About Igor. About what I said. You’re better than that. You’re so good, Molly. I’ve never met anyone with so much goodness in them.’
I’ve never had someone say those things. Not Rusby, not Jules, not my mother or father. When no one sees your goodness you start forgetting it’s there.
‘I’m not special, Luca,’ I said. ‘I’m just another homeless girl.’
He laughed. Then he sighed.
‘You’re extraordinary,’ he said.
My cheeks were hot and stinging. I wiped the tears from them. Then I felt his hand roll over my shoulder and squeeze.
‘I love you, Molly,’ he said.
He didn’t mean it. Of course he thought he did, but it wasn’t love Luca felt, it was infatuation. It wouldn’t last. Like Rusby when he told me he loved me. Like my dad when he stroked my hair. That wasn’t love, no matter how many times he told me it was. Even Izzy, who I thought would be my one guarantee, could never love me because she would never know me. I turned to Luca with tears in my eyes. He stepped closer.
‘Please say I can make this better.’
I looked behind him at the empty beach. It was like we were standing in a bubble, two figures cocooned in a snow globe of ‘TIME’.
‘I’ve got an answer,’ I said. ‘About what makes us human.’
Luca was quiet.
‘OK,’ he said.
‘Imagination.’
He was quiet again.
‘Because’, I said, ‘without it you’d never be able to imagine what it was like to be someone else. And you wouldn’t care so much, would you? You wouldn’t want to help them.’
The tide was getting closer, almost touching our feet.
‘Is that the right answer?’ I asked.
Luca smiled; then he shrugged.
‘Better than any I’ve come up with.’
I tried to smile too but I couldn’t because of what was behind me. A shadow, stretching tall, reaching out to touch me. I didn’t have to look to see it. It was always there. You can try and let go of the past, but it won’t let go of you.
I pulled the L-O-V-E bracelet from my wrist and pushed it into Luca’s palm.
‘Goodbye, Luca.’
I turned, walking into the sea.
Luca’s voice was faint when he called out to me.
‘What are you doing?’
The water soaked the hem of my dress as I waded up to my knees. I knew he’d be too scared to come after me.
‘Molly,’ he said louder. ‘Seriously, what are you doing?’
The water was up to my thighs now. The waves pushing me as if they couldn’t decide which way to take me, as if they couldn’t decide where I belonged. Pebbles loosened beneath my feet as the water reached my hips, my waist, my chest, until my toes were hovering over the seabed. It wasn’t like the water in the bath; it was stronger. My body wouldn’t be able to fight it. Not this time.
My legs gave way, body sinking into the water.
‘Molly, get out of there!’
I could hear Boy barking but I didn’t look back. There’s no use looking back. Instead I swam ahead, watching the waves coming towards me. I wanted to be sucked in, swallowed up by the big greyness of the sea. I was a rock being washed back and forth, back and forth. Soon, there’d be nothing left of me but sand.
That’s what I wanted. To be nothing but sand.
‘Molly!’
I plunged my head beneath the surface. Bubbles zoomed across my vision and sounds became gulps: distorted, muffled. In one blinding flash I saw all the colours of the world. I saw the stars, the galaxies. I saw seaweed and feathers. I saw all meaning and then I saw that it was all meaningless. Pieces of paper from Luca’s trumpet case floated by my face.
They watch you.
Frangipani socks.
HELP!
The ink was spilling out of the paper, swirling into the ripples. A drop of ink can turn a puddle black, but in the sea it just spreads out and becomes more sea.
The ink was spiralling towards me. I watched as it reached out, touching my fingers.
Then everything disappeared.
Molly’s Wish
This is a happy story. This is an adventure.
The light was shining. Beautiful and golden. Circles of colour then copper red blooming behind my closed lids. Stars twinkled; fireworks exploded. It was day and night and the end of everything. I could feel a dozen hands grabbing at me. Tiny rubber-band fingers tugging at my body.
I didn’t want to open my eyes. I didn’t want to see what death looked like. I shook my head. Then the pain kicked in.
I heard voices and beeping machines. My head was heavy and I couldn’t move my limbs. I blinked until my eyes focused, seeing the daisy print of the curtain, the white squares of ceiling tiles. Then, when I turned my head, I saw Luca reading a magazine out loud to himself. Except of course it wasn’t to himself, it was to me.
‘“The growth of the Himalaya and Tibetan Plateau is thought to have had a major effect on global weather patterns and climate change …”’
He was reading from a scientific journal. Lord knows where he’d found it. He was actually very good, speaking like he was giving a lecture at a big old university. I listened to him for a bit longer; then I cleared my throat. It was so weak that he didn’t even hear me.
‘Luca,’ I said.
When he looked at me it was like an afterthought. His back stiffened.
‘I’ll call a nurse,’ he said, springing to his feet.
‘No,’ I said, pulling myself up against the pillows. ‘I’m OK.’
He looked at me, unsure, then eased back in his chair. We were in the corner of a ward by a window with a mesh cage. There were other beds with patients and visitors by their sides. It was noisy, the smell of disinfectant in the air, and all I wanted to do was sleep. Luca gave my hand a gentle squeeze. Then, as quick as lightning, his face turned to thunder.
‘What the hell were you doing, Molly?’
I thought of the water swallowing me up, the sight of his words floating past. I thought of the wolves chasing me down the beach, the way he used to cough when he came into my room.
I shrugged.
‘It doesn’t matter,’ I said.
Luca’s brow knitted.
‘Yes, it bloody matters.’
I looked at the machines beside me, the tubes in my arms. The last time I was in a hospital I had been giving birth to Izzy.
‘I jumped in after you,’ Luca said. ‘I lost my notes.’
I looked at the floor but I couldn’t see Luca’s trumpet case. He followed my gaze.
‘It got lost in the sea,’ he said.
I imagined all the bottles and pieces of paper bobbing along the water. Then I remembered the plastic bag. I tried to sit up.
‘What abo
ut the things?’ I asked.
He sighed and put his hand in his pocket, throwing the plastic bag on to the bed. You could still see the colour of the bow tie. Luca remained irritated.
‘Sorry,’ I said. ‘I thought you’d be too scared.’
‘So did I. But there I was … doing it.’
He slumped back, part proud, part traumatized.
‘Thanks,’ I said.
There was a pause; all you could hear was the pumping of machines. I looked around Luca’s feet.
‘Where’s Boy?’ I asked.
Luca didn’t respond and, for a moment, I thought he’d gone and lost her again. Then he leant down to his leather bag and lifted the flap. Boy was curled up in a ball, fast asleep.
‘Jules was right,’ Luca said. ‘She’s as tough as new boots.’
‘Old boots,’ I said.
He paused; then he looked stern again.
‘You’re the last person who should be trying to kill themselves,’ he said. ‘I mean rarely, Molly.’
The ‘rarely’ made me grin; he’d said it just like his mum. Then I frowned. I didn’t know what he meant. I had a million reasons to want to die. But I liked that he couldn’t see them.
‘I have a daughter,’ I said.
I hadn’t planned on telling him. But planning was never something I was good at. I hadn’t planned on drowning either. It just seemed like the best thing to do at the time. Luca rose from his seat.
‘I’m going to call the nurse.’
‘She’s called Isabelle. Izzy for short. At least she was before they took her. She’d be five now.’
I don’t know if it’s because I was telling him or because I was thinking about the hospital and them taking her away, but I started crying. The tears came out in big fat droplets that blurred my vision. I thought about seeing Izzy in the playground and I wondered if I’d really seen her or if I’d just really wanted to see her. I saw so many things that I couldn’t even tell any more.
‘Do you think she’s happy, Luca?’ I said.
He looked at me, bemused. I sniffed loudly.
‘I’d give anything for her to be happy.’
I could hear the rev of engines outside, the tweeting of birds, the tinkle of an ice-cream van. Luca smiled with the same softness he used for Cora.
How to Find Home Page 20
