“Make a wish! Oh no, wait! Just a second, I need to find my phone so I can take a picture.” Mum went rummaging in her handbag and then her coat pocket, but she couldn’t find it.
“It’s alright, I’ll take the pictures with mine.” Paul held his up, but Mum shook her head.
“I have to find my phone, I need it for work. Can you give it a ring so I can hear where I’ve put it?”
Paul called Mum’s phone, but there wasn’t an answering ring from anywhere in the kitchen. “Maybe you left it in the minibus? I could give the company a call to check? If it’s not there then I’ll try the Adventure Dome.”
Paul disappeared into the living room to make some calls, and Mum rummaged in her handbag again, looking more and more worried.
“Can I blow the candles out now?” I asked. “Everyone wants cake.” I didn’t want my beautiful castle cut up into little bits, but I didn’t want Rachel and Lauren sticking their spoons in and digging chunks out of the wall either. They looked like they were getting ready to pull the whole thing to pieces if Mum didn’t hurry up.
“Just a minute, I need to find my phone first.” Mum went out to see if Paul was having any luck, and when I turned round I found Rachel and Lauren leaning over the table, playing with the candles on my cake.
“Bet you can’t do this,” Rachel dared the other girls, passing her fingers through the flames. Before I could stop them all the girls were trying it, giggling as they swiped their fingers over the candles at top speed and nearly knocking the castle towers down.
“Hey! Be careful!” I warned. I didn’t want my cake ruined before Mum got a chance to take some pictures of it.
“Don’t be such a boring swot, Elin,” Rachel muttered. “It’s just a bit of fun.”
I watched her burn the end of a streamer in the flame without saying anything, hoping I hadn’t spoiled my chances of being popular. Rachel dropped the burning paper onto a plate, and Lauren grabbed a plastic fork and started melting the end in the flames, trying to get the whole thing to disappear in a little ball of hot goo.
“Hey! This is just like one of my science experiments!” Jamie said, jumping up to grab one of the burst balloons he’d blown up way too full and holding it above the candles. The smell of burning rubber filled the kitchen, and it went on smouldering after he dropped it onto the plate and blew on his singed fingers.
“Look, Freak-Boy’s starting a bonfire!” Rachel grinned, adding a couple of streamers and another plastic fork to the burning heap on the plate. Everyone held their noses and watched the small flames turn blue and green as the plastic and rubber burned.
“Why’s it going a funny colour?” Paige asked. “I thought fire was supposed to be red and orange.”
“Different chemicals turn flames different colours,” Jamie said like he was a professor giving a lecture. “Look at this.” He grabbed one of my glittery birthday cards off the shelf and threw it onto the plate before I could stop him. The glitter crackled and the flames changed colour again, but I was so mad at Jamie I didn’t care how pretty it looked.
“That was my card!” I yelled. “Stop it Jamie, you’re going to set the smoke alarm off.”
But Jamie had an audience for his science experiments, and he wasn’t listening any more. He went running to the cupboard under the sink, and took out the bottle of turpentine I used to clean the paint off my brushes.
“This is a great experiment!” he told everyone. “You wouldn’t think liquid burns, would you? But it does, just watch this!”
There was a horrible moment where I knew exactly what was going to happen, but I couldn’t get round the table fast enough to snatch the bottle off Jamie before he could unscrew the lid and tip it up over the plate.
I think he only meant to pour out a few drops, but he was so full of sugar and fizzy cola his hands were shaking. Instead a whole torrent of turpentine came flooding from the bottle, splashing over the plate, across the table and onto the floor.
There was a strange whooshing sound, and in an instant my entire birthday party came to a blazing end in an eruption of flames.
24
Jamie
The firefighters have just left.
They tried to talk to me, but I was crying so hard I couldn’t hear anything they were saying.
Everyone’s gone home. There were a lot of shouting parents and frightened girls sobbing outside, but it’s all quiet now. Liz is in Elin’s room trying to calm her down, and Dad’s in the kitchen throwing all the bits of burnt table into the back garden. The whole house smells like charcoal. It’s making me feel like throwing up, but I don’t want to climb out from under my quilt where I’m hiding.
I can’t believe I did something so stupid.
I’ve done a lot of crazy things, but even for me that was spectacularly dumb.
What the hell is wrong with my brain? Why can’t I just think like normal people instead of doing the first mad thing that comes into my head?
I made Paige cry, and that hurts even more than making Elin cry.
Paige will forgive me for scaring her though, I know she will. Elin won’t ever forget that I ruined her birthday party. Her giant castle cake went up in a blaze of flames, and she didn’t even get any pictures of it before I spoiled it. She’s going to want revenge when she calms down. Maybe I should just let her build a big bonfire out of all my best things. Maybe that would be enough to stop her hating me.
The thought of seeing more flames makes my shaking worse, and before I know it I’m crying again. It doesn’t matter what I give Elin as payment for wrecking her birthday. Even if she forgives me, I’m never going to be able to stop hating myself.
“Jamie, can I come in for a minute?”
Dad’s knocking at the door, but I don’t get up. He comes in anyway and sits down on the end of my bed. “That was a pretty crazy day, eh Sandwich Man?” he sighs, giving my leg a shake. He doesn’t sound angry or disappointed, he just sounds tired.
“I’ve been thinking… I don’t like the idea of you taking medication for your ADHD, but we’re kind of running out of options here, aren’t we?”
There’s a big pause, and when I just sniff instead of answering he says, “So what do you think, Jamie? Do you want to go back to the doctor with me and see what they say? Do you want to try taking something just for a little while to see if it’ll help?”
“Will it make me normal?” I ask, throwing off the quilt and looking hopefully at Dad.
“I don’t know son, I don’t know what it’ll do,” Dad says, shaking his head. For the first time ever he doesn’t correct me and tell me I’m fine just the way I am. He looks beaten, like a boxer who’s taken too many punches. He’s taken them for me all my life. It’s my turn to do something for him. Something that will make him proud of me instead of always having to make excuses for my behaviour.
“OK Dad,” I nod. “I’ll take the medicine.”
Part Three
Breaking Out
25
Elin
“And how are things back home, pet? Has everything settled down a bit?”
I knew what Dad was asking. He wanted to know if Jamie’s ADHD medication was making him act like a normal human being after he nearly set the whole house on fire before Christmas.
“Sort of,” I shrugged, picking the raisins off my snowman bun and putting them on Dad’s plate. I knew all of his favourite things better than his fake family ever would. “Jamie’s quieter now, at least.”
‘Quieter’ wasn’t even close to the truth. Jamie was a zombie since he’d started taking the medication. He hardly said a word to anyone, and he stayed in his room most of the time. At school he spent all day staring out the window. He didn’t even do his science work any more, which was kind of weird, as he was the best in the class at experiments when he concentrated.
I bit my lip hard to make sure I didn’t say that last thought out loud. I didn’t want to admit to Dad that anyone could be better than me at anything, especially not Jamie.
&
nbsp; “But he’s behaving himself?” Dad frowned. “No more tantrums and dangerous antics?”
“Yeah, no more craziness,” I said without enthusiasm. No matter how quiet he was round the house now, I’d never forgive him for ruining my birthday. But that wasn’t the only thing he’d spoiled. Mum and Dad had a big argument when he found out what Jamie had done at my party, and they still weren’t speaking. Instead of the happy Boxing Day at Gran’s I’d been looking forward to, I was sitting on the sofa with Dad while Mum helped Gran make a fruit cake for New Year’s Eve in the kitchen. This was the one time of year I got to spend with both Mum and Dad, and they didn’t even want to be in the same room together.
The Monster had turned into the Ghost, but he was still haunting us.
“And how’s school been going? Have you made some new friends this year?” Dad asked hopefully.
I shook my head. “Everyone makes fun of me all the time because of Jamie! My wrecked birthday party was all anyone talked about for weeks, and Rachel and Lauren won’t shut up about it. They keep passing me drawings of my hair on fire and my cake turning into a pile of melted goo. I got mad at them last week and shouted at them, and Miss Morrison gave me extra homework for the first time ever, and—”
I shut my mouth quickly, wishing I hadn’t opened it in the first place. Dad was never going to believe I was perfect now. Jamie had ruined that too.
“Don’t worry, pet.” Dad gave me a hug when he saw my bottom lip wobble. “I’ll talk to your mum about it.”
“It won’t help! Mum always takes his side, and Paul just tells me off when I complain about Jamie.”
I was dangerously close to tears. I’d need to change the subject fast or I’d start crying and Dad would be really disappointed. I’d promised him when he left that I’d be brave and not cry. I couldn’t let him down now.
“Paul tells you off?” I could see Dad’s eyes narrow like he was about to get angry himself. I didn’t want to talk about the Imposter and his stupid son for one more minute, and I definitely didn’t want Dad marching into the kitchen to have another argument with Mum.
“There was one nice thing that happened in school though,” I said quickly. “Our teacher says there’s going to be a Junior Science Fair at the Science Centre in May, and all the schools in Glasgow are going to put forward their best entries for it. The prize for the winner is a thousand pounds!”
“Wow, that’s some prize!” Dad whistled. “You could buy me a real Ferrari for that!” He picked up the model I’d spent weeks painting for his Christmas present and zoomed it around in the air making engine noises. He used to dream of having a really fancy car, but since he got divorced and left work to look after the Mutant, he couldn’t afford to drive anything that wasn’t second-hand.
His fake family had ruined everything for him too.
“I’m going to do a butterfly display,” I told him. “I’ll paint all of the wings and write about the different types and where they live, and it’ll be the best entry ever!”
“That sounds brilliant,” Dad grinned. “And what would you spend the thousand pounds on if you won?”
“Riding lessons, of course. The ones I was supposed to get for my birthday, except I couldn’t because Mum and Paul spent all the money on Jamie’s new stuff. The ones I couldn’t get for Christmas because Jamie burned down the kitchen and we had to get everything replaced.”
The ones I would’ve had long before now if you were working instead of staying at home all day looking after the Mutant, the mean little voice at the back of my head nearly made me say out loud.
Dad must’ve been able to read my mind, as his smile slipped a bit and he put the car back down with a sigh. “I know it’s been hard for you, Elin. I’m going back to work in a few months. We’ll get you those riding lessons soon, I promise.”
“I know you will. You’re the best dad in the world.”
“And you’re my Perfect Princess.” He grabbed me round the waist and tickled my arm, and before I knew it I was in fits of giggles, play fighting with him just like I used to.
“Let go, you troll, or I’ll run you through with my sword!”
“Never!” Dad grinned. “It’s a fight to the death!” He found my weak spot just under my chin and tickled me till I was helpless with laughter. We were just grabbing cushions for a pillow fight when Mum put her head round the living-room door, her grim expression spoiling our fun.
“Get your coat Elin, we have to leave early.”
“What? But Mum, we can’t go now! It’s hours till Dad has to drive back!”
“I’m sorry Elin, but Paul’s had his shift changed at the last minute and I need to get back to look after Jamie.”
“That’s not very fair on Elin, Liz.” Dad was on his feet, scowling at Mum like this was all her fault. “I don’t get to see her very often, and now we have to give up our Boxing Day together because of Paul and his son?”
“If you’re too busy to come to Glasgow to see your own daughter then don’t complain to me that you don’t get to spend enough time with her!” Mum snapped.
Mum and Dad were arguing again like they used to, and it was all Jamie’s fault.
“Stop it! That’s quite enough, you two.” Gran marched in and told them off like she was Miss Morrison and they hadn’t done their homework. “This is supposed to be Boxing Day, not a boxing match! You’re upsetting poor Elin.”
“Sorry pet.” Dad gave me a hug while Mum stomped off to get our coats. “I just miss you, that’s all.”
“I miss you too, Dad.” I squeezed him back tightly.
“Time to go, Elin.” Mum handed me my coat and hurried me to the car.
I waved at Dad and Gran through the window as we turned the corner, gazing back at Gran’s Enchanted Cottage where nothing was ever supposed to change. It had today though. Mum and Dad hadn’t argued like that in years. Jamie had managed to ruin our family reunion without even being there.
I was doing my best to put my real family back together again, but there was a big Jamie-shaped wall keeping us apart.
I was going to knock it down and get Dad back, even if I had to take Jamie apart piece by piece to do it.
26
Jamie
The house still smells funny, like a damp bonfire.
We put up a real Christmas tree, and Liz has been spraying pine air freshener everywhere for weeks, but it hasn’t helped.
Everything still stinks of Eau de Jamie-Went-and-Burned-the-House-Down.
It’s late. I’m tired, but I can’t get to sleep.
I take my Transformers torch from my bedside table and switch it on. Elin doesn’t want it. She threw it back at me when I ruined her birthday party.
I open the book Paige gave me for Christmas and try to read it.
It’s a book about butterflies.
I know it is, cos there’s a big picture of a butterfly on the cover.
I can’t seem to focus on the words though.
I’m so tired.
My head is all mushy like it’s full of candy floss that someone’s dropped in a puddle.
I stretch out on my bed and flick through the photographs in the book slowly, letting my eyes go all unfocused like I’m about to fall asleep.
I can’t sleep though. Every night I lie awake and stare at the ceiling, waiting till it’s time to get up again.
My brain won’t switch off, but it won’t switch on properly either.
It’s like I’m a caterpillar that’s got stuck inside its chrysalis and can’t turn into a butterfly. My brain’s racing, telling me I have to break out, but my body’s tangled up in invisible threads.
It’s like a bad dream, but I’m wide awake.
I can hear the sound of a bedroom door slamming, and the house goes quiet again.
Dad and Liz have finally stopped arguing.
They started as soon as Dad got home from his shift tonight.
Dad’s upset because I’m not me any more, and Liz is upset because of somethi
ng that happened at Elin’s gran’s house, but they’re both taking it out on each other.
I thought taking the medication would solve everything, but all it’s done is give Dad something else to worry about.
I’m not worried.
I’m too tired and too spaced out to feel much of anything at all.
The sound of footsteps in the hall stops outside my door. Dad must’ve seen the light from my Transformers torch.
“Are you awake, Jamie?”
He puts his head round the door, then when he sees me sitting up he comes in and switches on my bedside lamp.
“Still can’t sleep, huh?” He says something else, but by the time I peel my eyes slowly off the book and look up I’ve forgotten what it is, and he has to repeat it.
“Is it a good book?” Dad asks again.
“Yeah,” I shrug. It probably is. Paige gave it to me on the last day of term. It was wrapped in newspaper instead of Christmas paper, and the first page was torn out, so I think she stole it from the library and didn’t want me to see the label. But it’s the thought that counts.
I didn’t think to get her anything.
I can’t think of anything much at all any more.
Dad sits down on my bed, and I put my feet in his lap to keep them warm.
“Miss Morrison says your behaviour’s got much better in class,” Dad says, giving my feet a rub. My feet are the only bit of me I don’t mind being touched. They used to be tickly and it always made me laugh.
Tonight I hardly feel it.
Dad waits for me to say something back, but when I don’t he says, “She thinks you’re finally starting to settle in, but you’re not getting much work done. That’s why you’re getting so much homework even though you’re behaving better. Is everything OK, Jamie?”
Maybe Dad’s the one who needs medication. He’s getting forgetful. We’ve had this conversation three times already since he went to see Miss Morrison at the end of term.
The Boy with the Butterfly Mind Page 10