“Of course I don’t forget, but maybe now you know a bit more about her, you can find some common ground? Both of you don’t have a mother in your life.”
“My mum died. Hers is a junkie who keeps picking drugs over her daughter. Don’t compare our mothers.”
“Lucy, don’t be cruel. How do you think that makes her feel?” he asked.
“Why are you trying to make me feel sorry for her when she was so horrible to me?”
“I’m not,” he said. “I didn’t mean to upset you.”
“No, you meant to take Catherine’s side again, and to make it worse now you’re defending the girl who bullied me for years.”
“I’m not defending her…”
“No? Then what are you doing? I don’t want to have this conversation anymore. I went to Catherine’s stupid spa day and now I want to go home and watch television.”
“But you have an assignment due,” he said.
“I lied. I didn’t want to have to spend a second longer with that judgemental woman and her bully niece.”
“You lied? So we’re lying to each other now?”
“And apparently we’re also sticking up for each other’s bullies.” I crossed my arms over my chest.
“I don’t want to fight with you.”
“Then leave me alone and stop forcing me to spend time with Catherine.” I turned my stare to the window beside me until we got home.
Lucy
BILSTONE, AUSTRALIA
“Lucy.” Suzan jogged to catch up with me as I stepped through the automatic doors of the library.
“Hey, how was English?” I asked her.
“Well, I can’t remember much of the lesson but Sam was sitting in front of me and kept turning to talk to me.” She looked around as though the bustle of kids rushing to find their friends might overhear her. “He’s so cute.”
I smiled at the happiness in her eyes.
Ugh! Something rammed into my right shoulder, and I turned to find Tracy glaring at me as she sauntered away, running her finger across her throat.
I rolled my eyes and turned around. Guess whatever moment we’d had at the spa was well and truly over. Maybe she was putting on an act for Catherine too?
“What’s her problem?” asked Suzan.
“Doesn’t she always have a problem?” I wasn’t going to tell Suzan she was at the spa day. I didn’t want to think about it anymore. It ruined the rest of my weekend and made things between Dad and me worse than ever.
“Yeah, but she’s left us alone for so long.”
“I’ve given up on trying to work her out. Now, tell me more about Sam. Did he say anything?” I asked.
“He passed me a note.” She pulled a piece of folded paper from her pocket and unfolded it as we reached Rachel and Becca at our usual table.
“What’s that?” asked Rachel.
“A note from Sam?” Becca flipped her curly blonde hair over her shoulder.
“Yeah, it is,” said Suzan.
“Well, what does it say?” I asked, sitting beside Becca.
“That I’m amazing, but my friends are all nosy,” replied Suzan.
“We don’t want to know anyway,” said Rachel.
“Yeah, we don’t care we were just trying to make you feel good,” said Becca.
“Who cares what he’s got to say?” I added, knowing she was itching to tell us.
“As if you don’t want to know. He said he wants me and my friends to go to Mitchell’s party Saturday night…” she trailed off, her eyes flicking between us to gauge our reactions.
“You know I’m out,” said Rachel. “No way would my parents let me go.”
“I don’t know. What other kids are going?” asked Becca.
“You girls are such kill joys,” said Suzan. “I thought you’d be excited. We’ve been invited to a party.”
“I don’t want to go if I’m going to spend the whole night being teased and laughed at,” said Becca.
“If anyone starts being nasty we’ll leave, I promise,” said Suzan.
“I’ll go if Lucy goes.” Becca raised her eyebrows at me.
“I guess I can ask Dad, but I have no idea what he’ll say,” I replied.
“Are you sure you can’t sway your parents, Rachel?” asked Becca.
“To be honest, I don’t want to. Parties aren’t my scene. You girls go and have fun, and send me a photo of what you’re wearing and of Suzan macking on with Sam.”
We all burst out laughing as Suzan’s cheeks turned almost as red as her hair. “You’re all jealous.”
“Of Sam? No,” said Becca. “But it would be nice to have a boy interested in me.”
“I’m sure Sam will have friends that don’t go to school with us,” said Suzan. “I know it’s not your scene, Rachel, but if you change your mind, we’ll break you out of your house and drag you with us.”
“Naw, you’re so sweet,” replied Rachel.
“You know what’s so sweet it makes me want to vomit?” Suzan took a bite of her sandwich and continued to talk with food in her mouth. “Mike and Charity. I mean, Mike’s gross…”
“Like you eating that sandwich?” said Becca.
Suzan swallowed and wiped her mouth. “But Charity is so sweet. She calls him all the time and they went out for dinner on Thursday night. I don’t know what she sees in him but I hope he knows how lucky he is.”
I shifted in my seat and wished we could go back to talking about Sam and the party. “Mike’s not that bad.”
“Of course you think that, he’s nice to you,” said Suzan.
I opened my mouth, but was interrupted by Rachel. “So, what are you girls going to wear to this party?”
“No.” Dad moved about the kitchen, not making eye contact with me.
I sat at the bench, watching him. “Please, it’ll be good for me to go out with my friends.”
“Will there be boys?”
“Yes, I told you, it’s at Mitchell’s house. Mitchell is a boy.”
“Then, no.”
“But Dad…”
“No Luce. Why can’t you and your friends have a girls only party?”
“Because I don’t go to an all-girls school, I go to a mixed school so my friends are boys and girls.”
“Maybe I need to look at moving you to an all-girls school.”
“Argh! Why can’t you trust me?”
“It’s not you I don’t trust. It’s boys… especially teenage boys.”
“Suzan and Becca will be there and we’ll look out for each other.”
Skye barked outside at the sound of tires crunching up the dirt driveway.
“That’ll be Catherine,” he said. “My answer is no.”
Dad walked past me and through the front door. I slouched on the bench. He’d surprised me with Catherine’s visit for dinner when I’d walked through the door after school. I was sure he sprang it on me last minute, so I had no way of getting out of an evening with her. I hoped Olivia wouldn’t be home too late.
“Well, she is a young lady and you do want her to be more social, don’t you?” said Catherine as she and Dad came inside. “Lucy, how are you?”
“I’m fine,” I groaned.
“Look at her,” she said to Dad. “One party won’t hurt her. You said you like that she’s finally got friends but you won’t let her create memories with them.”
“I told her. It’s the boys I don’t trust,” said Dad, going back into the kitchen.
“She’s going to talk to boys no matter what you do, Bruce. If you don’t let her go to these things she’ll find sneakier ways to do it and you’ll have no idea what she’s up to.”
“I might go have a shower.” I edged my way towards the living room.
“That’s a good idea,” growled Dad.
I hoped he regretted inviting her to dinner and thanked Karma.
“I’m serious, Bruce…” Catherine’s voice trailed off as I closed the bathroom door and leaned against it.
It wasn’t
the argument I was uncomfortable with; it was the fact Catherine was on my side for once and despite me not wanting her to be part of our lives, I wanted her to win this fight. My stomach squirmed. Maybe the fact Catherine approved of me going to the party meant it was a bad idea after all? Running my fingers through my long chestnut ponytail, I remembered her assessment of my hair. Was I fighting her because I hated the idea of change? Maybe I would look prettier if I had a trim and style from time to time? Mike flittered into my thoughts but I pushed the image away as I twisted my hair into a bun and undressed, turning on the shower and getting the temperature right before climbing in.
The rush of water drowned out the discussion in the kitchen, but it did nothing to stop the thoughts racing around my mind. Maybe Dad was right? Maybe the party wasn’t a good idea? But my friends were going, and it’d be so much fun. I might meet a boy who liked me. But how could a boy like me when I didn’t dress and act like the other girls? Maybe if I made some effort to be more girly, another boy might be interested in me and I might stop getting the tense weirdness through my body every time I heard about Mike and Charity. My shoulders sagged.
Clean, I stepped out of the shower and dried myself, pulling on a loose yellow top and the newest jeans I could find already looking forward to Catherine leaving so I could put on something more comfortable. The house was much calmer when I went to my room to brush my hair and when I was done, I made my way to the kitchen. My shoulders relaxed at the sight of Olivia sitting at the table with Dad and Catherine, all with a glass of wine and the conversation calm.
“I thought you were never getting out,” said Olivia as she spotted me. “Is it okay if I jump in now?”
I wanted to tell her no, she couldn’t leave me alone with them.
“Go for it,” said Dad. “Sounds like you had a busy day at work.”
She shot me a grin, ignoring my ‘please don’t leave me’ face as she walked past me to have her own shower.
“Dinner will be ready in a minute, we’ll have it as soon as Olivia to gets out of the shower,” said Dad.
I hovered in the doorway, wishing there was a way to not have to sit at the table with them.
“Your father and I had a discussion about your party,” said Catherine.
Dad let out a huff. “You can go. But there’ll be rules.”
I held back the squeal forming in my throat. “Of course.”
“I’ll be there to pick you up at ten,” he said.
“Eleven,” said Catherine. “You can’t pick her up too early.”
“Ten thirty,” said Dad, visibly annoyed. “And I’m trusting you to do the right things at this party. No drinking, no kissing boys…”
“Dad,” I groaned.
“I’m serious Luce. If you break any of my rules or if you aren’t out the front at ten thirty, you won’t be going to another party until you’re eighteen. Got it?”
“Yes, Dad.”
“Right. Now can you go turn off the oven so the vegetables don’t burn,” he said.
I ran into the kitchen to do as he asked.
When dinner was over and Catherine had said her goodbyes, a sleepy eyed Olivia said goodnight and ambled to her bedroom.
“I’m going to go to bed too,” I told Dad.
“Night Luce,” he replied, sitting on the couch watching television with his eyes half closed.
“And thank you Dad. I know you don’t want me to go to this party, but I promise I won’t make you regret changing your mind,” I said.
“I hope not Luce. I wish you could see that I’m only trying to keep you safe and out of situations where you might make decisions you regret.”
“I can see that. But it’s hard when my friends are doing things and I feel like I’m missing out. You can trust me.”
“I know I can. You’re a good kid with a good head on your shoulders,” he said.
I kissed him on the head. “You did a good job. I think Mum would say so too.”
He nodded. “I try my best. I love you Luce.”
“I love you too Dad.”
“What are you going to wear to the party?” asked Olivia in the kitchen the following morning.
I chewed on a piece of toast smothered in butter and vegemite. “I have no idea? What do people wear to parties?”
“I know the perfect dress,” she said.
“A dress?”
“You know the white strappy one you bought when we went shopping? I think you should wear it,” she said.
“I don’t know…”
“How about we choose a couple of things and you organise to get ready at Suzan’s? That way you can make sure you’re wearing something similar to them if it will make you feel more comfortable?” she said.
“That’s a good idea.”
“Any boys in particular you’ll be trying to impress?” She wiggled her eyebrows.
“No, but it’d be nice for one to notice me for a change,” I said. “Do you think I should get my hair trimmed or styled or something?”
“If you want to, but there’s nothing wrong with your hair. What makes you ask?”
“Catherine said it’d look nicer if I did.”
“And you’re listening to Catherine now?” She quirked an eyebrow.
I shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe she has a point.”
Olivia leaned on the bench in front of me and looked me in the eye. “Lucy Briar, you are beautiful just the way you are. If you want to get a haircut, that’s fine, but don’t do it because someone says you should.”
“I know. You’re right.” But I couldn’t help the doubt still in my mind. “I just want a guy to like me.”
“I’m sure more boys like you than you realise. I don’t want to be a buzz kill, but your dad’s right on one thing. You can’t always trust boys, especially the charming charismatic ones.”
“I’m sensing this warning comes from what happened next on your adventures in the balloon?” I said.
“You have no idea.”
“We’ve got a bit of time before I have to head down to the bus,” I said.
“I’ll make us a quick cup of tea.” She grinned.
Olivia
THE FLYING PHOENIX
Standing up from the bed, I made my way over to the door, swaying side to side as I tried to find my footing with the movement of the ship. As I reached for the handle, it turned and the door swung open. I stumbled back in fright at the same time the ship lurched and I fell to my bottom on the floor, jarring my spine. A girl with a lean, athletic build and short cropped cobalt blue hair stood in the doorway with her hands on her hips wearing a gold crop and skirt combo that didn’t leave much to the imagination.
“About time you woke up. Lukah sent me to come get you. Come on, get up,” she said in a short clipped tone, making no attempt to help me.
I turned to find the bed and used it to get to my feet. “Who’s Lukah?” My voice croaked.
“He runs this ship. And he doesn’t like to be kept waiting.” She started walking away.
I hesitated, something telling me I might not like this Lukah guy, and that I definitely didn’t like this girl, but I reminded myself I was stuck on this ship, and he might be my way out. I at least needed to find out where my balloon was.
Quickening my step, I caught up to the girl using the sides of the narrow hall with creaking wooden walls to keep me upright. Doors lined it every few meters, most of which were closed, but the open ones revealed different bedrooms, all of which were void of people. At the end of the hall, she jogged up a set of stairs, which took me a little longer to get my footing on.
She rolled her eyes. “Keep up, someone would think you’ve never been on a ship before.”
“I haven’t,” I mumbled under my breath, my stomach churning and my head swimming.
“What was that?” she snapped.
“Nothing.”
We made our way down a wider hallway until we came to the end marked by double wooden doors. The girl rapped hard on the t
imber.
“Who is it?” called a smooth male voice.
“It’s Loretta. I’ve got that stowaway you wanted.”
“Come in, come in,” he sing-songed.
She pushed the doors open and I followed her inside.
The large room was clad in timber from floor to ceiling, and three red and black rugs had been placed on the floor to soften the space. In the centre sat a wide timber desk laden with papers and quills, and to the left, a sitting area with bookshelves. But the most peculiar thing in the room was the man who rose from behind the desk and made his way around to lean on its front ledge, looking me up and down. His jet black hair was swept to the side, accentuating his dark features. An open white vest revealed a firm hairless chest which was framed by a long purple jacket that reached the back of his knees. A gold chain hung from his neck, matching the large buckle on his belt. He was unlike anyone I’d ever seen before.
He smirked as though enjoying watching my eyes rove over him, and I straightened my spine.
“Welcome aboard the Flying Phoenix.” He opened his muscular arms wide as he strode towards me ignoring the girl. “My name is Lukah and I’m the one who keeps this circus in order.”
I stood in silence.
Lukah looked between me and the girl before shooting her a distrustful look. “I hope Loretta treated you with respect?”
“Of course I did,” she said. “Didn’t I girl?”
I didn’t reply.
“Loretta, you can leave us now.” He waved her away but his eyes remained on me.
“But Lukah,” she whined.
“Go,” he instructed.
She shot me a glare and left the room, closing the doors behind her.
“So, do I get the honour of knowing your name?” He sat on the edge of his desk and crossed his ankles, eyebrows raised.
I looked around the room. “What did you do with my balloon?”
“Not going to give me your name? The balloon is safe. It wouldn’t fit in here would it?” He laughed. “I’ve asked the crew to stow it below deck. I assure you it is still in good shape.”
Circus in the Clouds (The Balloonist Chronicles Book 3) Page 5