by Judi Curtin
I put my hands over my face and screamed in mock fear.
‘Not that. Anything but that. Promise me you won’t let your hair down.’
Mum just kept talking like I hadn’t said a word – very strange. By now I should be getting her lecture on ‘showing respect for adults.’
‘We’re going to camp in the same field where we camped twenty years ago,’ Mum said. ‘It’s going to be a real trip down memory lane.’
‘You’d better be careful,’ I said. ‘Memory Lane sounds like it’s full of mad old hippies. It could be a real scary place.’
Once again Mum ignored my joke. She looked at the first photograph again.
‘I must look up in the attic. I think I might have that dress still.’
I laughed.
‘Why? Are you going to use it as a tent? You’d be very popular – you could fit a few families in there.’
Mum must really have been in a strange mood, because she ignored that joke too. Suddenly I had a horrible thought – probably the scariest thought of my whole life.
Did Mum expect me to go hang out with all these crazy people with psychedelic clothes and horror hair?
Did she think I was going to spend my whole weekend dancing around a mucky field listening to creepy old music?
Knowing my luck I’d probably get my picture in the paper, and that would give Melissa enough to mock me about all the way to the summer holidays.
Did Mum want to ruin my life forever?
I was so scared I could hardly get the words out.
‘I… I… I… don’t have to go, do I?’
Mum shook her head.
‘No, love. I’m sorry. I’d love you to come, but it’s not really suitable for kids. You and Rosie will stay here. It’s all arranged. Linda’s coming to mind you.’
Now that was really good news. Linda is Mum’s younger sister. We hardly ever see her because she lives in Dublin, and has a very busy life. When she visits though, she’s really fun, and always gives Rosie and me sweets when Mum isn’t looking. A whole weekend with her would be totally brilliant.
Mum suddenly looked sad.
‘I hope we’re doing the right thing,’ she said. ‘Dad and I have never spent a night away from Rosie before. And she’s still only a baby. Maybe it’s best if you and Rosie just come with us. Maybe I should ring Linda and tell her not to come after all.’
There was no way I was going on that crazy trip. I jumped up.
‘No, Mum,’ I said. ‘Don’t do that. Rosie’s not a baby. She’s four now. She’s a big girl. And I’ll help to mind her. And I’ll be really good for Linda. I’ll help her all the time. I’ll—’
Mum laughed.
‘OK. OK. I get the message. I suppose you can stay here. It will be good for you girls to spend some time with Linda – get to know her a bit better. Now would you ever get the ladder from the garage for me? I’m going up to the attic to see if I can find that lovely yellow dress.’
Chapter twelve
Twenty minutes later, Mum was up in the attic humming ancient songs as she rummaged through boxes of old junk. Before long, she called me,
‘Come, on up, Megan. You can help me. This is so much fun.’
I thought doing really hard maths homework would be more fun than helping Mum, but I decided not to say this.
‘Sorry, Mum,’ I called. ‘I’d love to, but I promised Alice I’d call for her.’
Mum didn’t even answer, so I took the opportunity to escape.
I ran over to Alice’s place. Alice laughed when I told her the good news that Mum and Dad were going away.
‘You lucky thing,’ she said. ‘A whole weekend without your mum and dad bossing you around. I’m jealous already.’
Then she thought for a minute.
‘Who’s going to mind you though? Who does your mother trust to fill you up with organic porridge, and to keep you away from evil things like television and mobile phones?’
I laughed.
‘That’s the really great news. My Aunt Linda is coming to mind us. She’s really cool – well, I suppose not really, really cool, but she’s a lot cooler than Mum, that’s for sure. She’ll promise Mum loads of stuff, but as soon as we’re on our own, she’ll act like a normal person. It’s going to be so—’
Alice put up a hand to stop me. She had that funny look on her face again.
‘I think I remember your Aunt Linda from when she visited before.’
I nodded.
‘Yeah. She comes down about once a year. She never stays long though. After a day or two she starts to get restless and wants to go home. She—’
Alice stopped me again.
‘She’s kind of pretty, isn’t she?’
Linda’s my aunt. I’d never really thought about whether she was pretty before.
‘I don’t really know,’ I said. ‘She doesn’t look much like my mum, and that’s a good thing, I suppose. She has nice, shiny, black, curly hair. And she wears cool clothes. Well, cool for an aunt anyway.’
Why was Alice grinning so much?
And why was she suddenly so interested in my Aunt Linda?
By now Alice was looking like she’d just won the lottery.
‘Linda never got married, did she?’ she asked.
Suddenly everything became clear.
‘No way!’ I said. ‘No way are you going to involve my aunt in one of your crazy plans.’
Alice ignored me.
‘She’s not married though, is she?’
I shook my head.
‘Not last time I asked.’
‘And does she have a boyfriend?’
I was fairly certain that Linda didn’t have a boyfriend. I’d heard Mum and Dad talking about that very subject just a few weeks earlier. This was crazy though. Alice was getting carried away as usual.
Alice shook my shoulder.
‘Come on, Meg. Tell me. Does Linda have a boyfriend?’
‘Not that I know of,’ I said quietly.
Alice gave a big happy shout.
‘That’s settled then. We’ll arrange a little romance between Dad and Linda, make sure Mum gets to hear of it, and before we know it, Mum will be begging Dad to let her move back in. Simple.’
I walked away from her and looked out the window. Alice’s old swings were swaying in the breeze. We used to spend hours on those swings, chatting about stupid things. I thought about how easy things were when her parents were together, and all Alice and I had to do all day long was hang out, and do fun stuff.
At Easter, when Alice and her mum moved back to Limerick, I thought everything was going to be OK again.
Suddenly I felt really selfish – I had got what I wanted. My best friend was back, and I never really stopped to think that she was still upset that her parents didn’t live together any more. I thought that since they lived near to each other, everything was fine. How totally stupid was that?
Alice came over and stood next to me. She spoke quietly.
‘Linda will only be here for a few days. It’s a perfect opportunity, and we can’t let it pass us by. Please help me, Meg. Just this one more time.’
I put my head down. As far as I could see I had two choices – I could agree to help Alice right now, or I could let her spend the next week persuading me, and then agree. Whatever happened, I knew I’d end up in the middle of another crazy Alice plan, sooner or later.
Suddenly I felt tired of it all. I was in sixth class. This was supposed to be a fun year, the best year of primary school, maybe the best of my whole life – and I’d already spent half of it running around helping Alice with stupid plans that never worked properly anyway.
Alice left my side and went to sit on her bed. After a minute, I turned around to look at her. Her face was so sad, it made me want to cry. What kind of a friend was I if I only liked her when she was happy?
I went and stood beside her.
‘No crazy stuff this time, OK?’
She jumped up and hugged me.
‘I promise,’ she said. ‘No crazy stuff at all. It’ll be a crazy-free zone. Thanks, Meg. You’re the best friend I could ever have.’
I tried to smile, but I couldn’t.
* * *
The rest of that week was very strange. Mum kept arriving down from the attic carrying bundles of revolting brightly-coloured clothes. She’d toss them onto the kitchen table with big happy sighs.
‘Aaaaah,’ she’d say. ‘Everything was so simple and bright and happy in those days.’
Mostly I ignored her, or sometimes when it got too much I pretended to vomit. Mum never seemed to mind. It was as if she’d already vanished from us and gone back to her past, where I didn’t even exist yet.
One day, when Dad got home from work Mum waved a big heap of denim in front of his face. He took it from her, and held it up. I giggled. It was the old denim dungarees he’d had on in the photograph.
‘Look, Donal,’ Mum said. ‘Remember these? You can wear them to the festival at the weekend.’
Dad went pale.
‘I don’t think so, Sheila. They’re … well, they’re ancient history aren’t they? I like to think I’ve moved on a bit since then.’
Mum hugged him.
‘Go on. Try them on, please, for me.’
Dad looked very uncomfortable as he went out in to the hall. Seconds later he shuffled back into the room. Even Mum had to laugh. Dad looked so pathetic it was hard to believe. He looked like someone in a very, very bad fancy dress outfit. Rosie even looked a bit scared. She went over and half-hid behind Mum’s legs.
‘Daddy’s a loser,’ she said.
Dad made a face at Mum.
‘Happy?’ he said. ‘Even my own daughter thinks I look ridiculous.’
Mum put her hand over her mouth and tried to stop laughing.
‘OK, so maybe you shouldn’t wear these. I’ll look in the attic for something else.’
Dad shook his head.
‘Actually, Sheila, you won’t. I’m wearing my normal jeans or I’m not going. OK?’
Mum was quiet for a minute, and then she nodded.
‘I suppose so. Now I wonder if I can find your old sandals?’
‘Sheila.’
Now Dad sounded really cross.
Mum backed down.
‘OK, no more old stuff I promise. Now get changed again. The lentil stew is almost ready.’
After dinner Mum put away all the crazy clothes, and went back to work on ‘The List’.
This was her list of instructions for Linda. All stupid stuff like:
No more than one hour of TV per day for the girls
No processed foods
No sweets
No crisps
Dad leaned over her shoulder and started to read.
‘Linda’s your sister.’ he said. ‘Don’t you trust her to mind the girls properly?’
Mum looked all stressed.
‘I do trust her – sort of. I’d just like to think that she’s doing things my way, that’s all.’
Dad went back to his paper.
‘Whatever,’ he said.
I smiled to myself. Poor Mum. Linda had only minded Rosie and me once before, for an afternoon, and in that time she managed to break almost every one of Mum’s stupid rules. Mum could write all the lists she liked, I knew Linda would ignore every single word. We were going to have so much fun – I knew it already.
Now all I had to worry about was Alice and her crazy plan.
Chapter thirteen
Linda arrived on Friday afternoon. She was a bit late, so Mum and Dad had to leave almost immediately. Mum stood in the hall and hugged Rosie and me like hugs were going out of fashion.
‘Oh my precious little babies,’ she said, ‘I am going to miss you so, so much.’
Dad grinned at me over Mum’s shoulder.
‘If we don’t get moving, Sheila,’ he said, ‘It’ll be too late to pitch the tent and we’ll have to book in to a hotel.’
Mum let go of Rosie and me like we were on fire.
‘No way. No hotels for us. We’re camping, just like we did the last time.’
She backed out the door.
‘Bye girls. Love you both. Be good. Bye Linda. I left a list of instructions on the kitchen table. I’ll phone you tomorrow to see how you’re getting on. Bye girls. Love you lots. Do what Linda tells you. Don’t forget…’
By now Mum was in the car and Dad was driving away. Soon they were out of sight, and if Mum was still giving instructions, it didn’t matter because we couldn’t hear them anymore.
Linda took Rosie by the hand and the three of us went into the kitchen. Linda picked up ‘The List’ and read it carefully. Then she stuck it onto the fridge, with the writing turned in.
‘I’m in charge now,’ she said.
She reached into her handbag,
‘Anyone feel like a Mars Bar?’
Rosie and I ran and grabbed the chocolate. This was going to be so, so good. This was going to be like Christmas – only better.
Pity there was just one small problem.
A few minutes later, the problem rang the doorbell.
I let Alice in and brought her in to the kitchen. Linda gave her a bar of chocolate too. I wondered if she’d have been quite so nice if she’d known exactly what Alice had planned for her.
While Linda played with Rosie, Alice and I went to my room.
Alice threw herself on to my bed.
‘I’ve learned a lot from the thing with Miss O’Herlihy,’ she said.
‘Like what?’ I said. ‘Like not meddling in your father’s love life?’
She shook her head.
‘No. Not that actually. This time we’re going to take things more slowly. We’ll let Dad and Linda meet tonight, just for a minute, just long enough for them to kind of wonder about each other, and then tomorrow we’ll get down to the serious stuff.’
I sighed.
‘So how are we going to get them to meet tonight?’
‘Duh. That’s easy. I just stay here until Dad calls me for tea.’
‘But he won’t come over here. He’ll phone you, like he always does.’
Alice smiled.
‘He can phone, but it won’t do him a whole lot of good.’
I didn’t bother asking what she meant by that – I knew I’d find out sooner or later.
After about twenty minutes, Alice’s phone rang. It played a really cool tune, and a whole row of lights began flashing up and down the side of the phone. For about the millionth time I wished that Mum and Dad would escape from the Dark Ages and let me have a phone.
Alice grinned at me, and picked up her phone.
‘It’s Dad. I’ll put him on speaker,’ she said, as she pressed a button.
‘Hello?’ she said.
‘Alice, it’s time for you to come home for tea.’
Peter’s voice was as clear as if he was standing next to us.
‘Hello?’ said Alice again, slightly louder this time.
Peter’s reply was louder too.
‘It’s Dad. I said it’s time to come home for tea.’
‘Hello?’ said Alice for the third time. ‘Who is this? You’ll have to speak up.’
‘I said – Come. Home. For. Tea.’ This time it sounded as if Peter was standing right next to me and shouting in my ear.
Alice grinned at me.
‘I’m sorry, whoever you are,’ she said. ‘You keep breaking up on me. Why don’t you try calling back later?’
‘Alice, if you don’t––’ began her dad, but Alice clicked off her phone.
‘Oops,’ she said. ‘He seems to have got cut off.’
Then she gave a big fake sigh.
‘Mobile phones these days. They’re so unreliable.’
I had to laugh, but I was thinking that I would never, ever be brave enough to do what Alice had just done. (Anyway, if Mum has her way, I’ll never get the chance, as I won’t ever have a phone.)
Three minutes later, Alice’s little br
other Jamie was at the front door.
‘Dad says come home for tea,’ he said. ‘And if you ever again do that stupid trick of pretending not to hear him on the phone, he’s going to take it from you and keep it for six months.’
I giggled until Alice made me stop by glaring at me.
I was glad her dad hadn’t called over to pick her up, but not for long.
‘Don’t worry,’ Alice whispered as she left. ‘I have a plan B. See you after tea, and I’ll tell you all about it.’
Half an hour later she was back. She dragged me into the garage, and opened the fuse box.
‘Lucky this is the same as the one in my house,’ she said. ‘That makes things a bit easier.’
I was starting to feel scared.
‘What exactly are you doing? I don’t think Mum and Dad will be too happy if you blow up the house.’
She made a face at me.
‘I’m not totally stupid you know.’
Then she reached up and flicked a switch marked Lights.
‘All I’ve done is switch off the lights. Will Linda know how to fix them do you think?’
I shook my head.
‘Linda is totally useless at stuff like that. Mum always teases her that she has to call an electrician to change a plug.’
Alice gave a happy smile.
‘That’s what I hoped. So later on, when it gets dark, Dad will have to come and save the day. Linda will be so impressed that she’ll be dying to see him again tomorrow.’
I wasn’t so sure about that, but as Alice’s plans go, this one seemed harmless enough, so I said nothing and we went back into the house to wait for it to get dark.
Some time later, Linda, Rosie, Alice and I were lying on the floor in the family room watching our second hour of television. I was full from the yummy Chinese takeaway we’d had for tea, and the three bags of crisps and the litre bottle of lemonade that we’d finished between us.
Alice nudged me. I repeated the line she’d made me practise earlier.
‘It’s getting a bit dark, isn’t it?’
Linda ignored me. She was busy feeding Rosie even more crisps.
Five minutes later, Alice tried.
‘It’s getting a bit dark. Will I put the light on, Linda?’
This time Linda paid attention.