by Hilary McKay
‘Your grandmother telephoned the hospital again this afternoon. They said she’d stabilised.’
‘What’s that mean?’
‘It’s good. She’s not getting worse.’
‘I’ve got a proper chance then.’
‘’Course you have.’
‘What was that you used to say to Rose?’
‘Getbettergetbettergetbetter.’
‘I’ll do that then. On Saturday.’
Indigo thought of something. ‘Your dad can’t come. Will they let you fly on your own?’
‘I did before, to come here.’
‘Oh yes,’ said Indigo unhappily.
Tom said, to comfort them both, ‘It’s not that far. It’s just through a patch of that.’
‘What?’
‘Sky.’
‘Quite a big patch,’ said Indigo.
‘I know. But it’s not like there’s anything in between. It’s not like you have to climb over walls. Or hack through jungle. Or swim.’
‘You could swim.’
‘Indigo,’ said Tom. ‘Be reasonable. You couldn’t. Don’t go trying.’
‘All right.’
‘There’s a star. I told you it would happen. You know all that stuff I used to tell you. About my dad being an astronaut? And a baseball player? And my mother and the bears? All that stuff?’
‘Yep.’
‘ ’Sall true.’
They both laughed.
‘Listen,’ said Indigo. ‘I’m going to tell you something terrible. Rose tried to mend your guitar.’
‘She did?’ demanded Tom, sitting up very quickly.
‘She took off all the strings and she unscrewed the tuning pegs.’
Tom wrapped his arms round his head and moaned at the sky.
‘She glued up the crack in the back with superglue and then she took it into town. On the way she fell down and cracked it quite badly.’
‘She did what?’ howled Tom.
‘Then she panicked and fetched my dad from London to help.’
‘I thought he never came home.’
‘He does in emergencies. He bought you the black guitar.’
‘What?’
‘He bought you the black guitar.’
‘Your father bought me the black guitar???? ’
‘Yes. Let go of my throat.’
Tom flopped down on the roof and lay limply staring upwards.
‘I beat up Tony Albinoni this afternoon,’ said Indigo.
‘You beat up Tony Albinoni?’
‘Yes.’
‘Why?’
‘What do you mean, why?’
‘What’s he ever done to you?’ asked Tom, and then laughed until he was nearly ill.
Chapter Sixteen
The Casson house was full of people. Caddy and Michael. Saffron and Sarah. Also Derek, who unaware of any crisis, had turned up quite by chance because Eve had mentioned on the phone that the kitchen sink was once again refusing to drain.
‘I came as soon as I could,’ Derek announced, as he pushed open the door (without knocking), pulled off his motor cycle helmet and creaked into the kitchen.
Derek was dressed, as always, head to toe in muddy black leather. He kissed Eve, tripped over Sarah’s wheelchair, spotted Bill, and said, ‘Hello! Visitors! Introduce me, Rose!’
‘This is Daddy,’ said Rose obligingly. ‘Daddy, this is Derek, Caddy’s old boyfriend. Mummy’s having him now.’
Rose stepped back to observe the results of this announcement. Her father, she anticipated, would immediately pull off his jacket and challenge Derek to a duel on the lawn. The winner (maybe Derek, clad as he was in black leather armour, perhaps Bill, who had the double advantages of unimpeded movement and a very thick skin) would claim Eve for his own. Thus would all confusion about who belonged to whom be fairly and finally settled.
Rose was very disappointed by what followed.
‘Ah yes,’ said Bill, shaking hands perfectly calmly. ‘Yes, Derek. Very nice to meet you at last. Eve has talked of you. You must both come up to London and meet my…er…, my…er…, my…er…, Samantha!’
Eve heaved a sigh of relief. Caddy and Michael gave each other hugely significant looks. Sarah and Saffron, who had winkled the secret out of Caddy weeks before, snorted with laughter.
Derek and Bill ignored them all, and talked about drains and wiring so boringly that Eve stopped looking relieved and began to look slightly hunted. Like a person who, having escaped the frying pan, is beginning to suspect they have landed, for all their leaping, into the fire.
‘I wish Indigo and Tom would come home,’ said Rose, for about the tenth time that afternoon. ‘I know where they are. I wish they’d come down.’
Gradually, as the light faded and evening came, people began to realise just how long the boys had been missing. Derek and Bill, out in the shed admiring the new wiring, looked at their watches more and more frequently. Tom’s grandmother telephoned again and again.
Eve said, ‘They’re just taking a little time out together,’ and tried not to look out of the window every minute or so to see if they were on their way. Caddy and Michael drove round the streets in search of them but came back unsuccessful. Saffron and Sarah said, ‘Listen to Rose.’
Rose said, as she had been saying for hours, that Tom and Indigo would undoubtedly be found on the top of the school tower block.
‘But Rose darling,’ said Eve. ‘Why would they be up there?’
‘To think,’ said Rose.
It was a while before anyone except Saffron and Sarah could be induced to take this theory seriously. Michael was the first to believe it might be possible. Michael said, ‘I suppose we do know they are that daft!’
‘That’s true,’ admitted Derek, and suggested that he and Michael, both experienced climbers, should take a quick look at the top of the school themselves, just to check.
This was done, after a little arguing with Bill. Derek and Michael drove over to the empty school, walked appraisingly around it once, said, ‘No problem at all!’ and began to climb, following the exact route Tom had described, starting at the fire escape.
Sure enough, Rose was proved to be right. Tom and Indigo were discovered, perfectly safe, lying on their backs, renaming the stars. They pretended not to notice anything was happening until Derek emerged on to the roof, and said kindly, ‘Come on, you two dreamers! Back down to planet Earth.’
Tom sighed. Indigo asked, ‘How d’you know we were here?’
‘Rosy Pose,’ said Michael, flopping down beside them. ‘Don’t you fancy planet Earth then, Tom?’
‘Not much,’ said Tom.
‘Come on, Indy, time to go,’ urged Derek. ‘Before your dad calls out the troops. He wanted to ring the police and the fire brigade. We’ve left Caddy and Saffron and Sarah back home sitting on his head.’
‘Really sitting on his head?’ asked Tom, brightening a little.
‘Metaphorically sitting on his head,’ said Derek.
‘What’s Rose doing?’
‘To be honest,’ said Derek, ‘I think she’s not too happy. Let’s get going.’
Indigo and Tom came without any more protest. They had known from the moment they saw car headlights in the deserted school car park that their time of peace was over.
‘You feeling blue yet?’ Tom asked Indigo.
‘Getting that way.’
Derek organised their descent, first Michael, then Tom, then himself and last of all, Indigo. He was a little worried about Indigo, but he need not have been. Indigo, who had been up and down every high building in the town that afternoon, managed perfectly easily.
From the moment they touched ground in the school car park time went so quickly it seemed to Tom and Indigo that they could feel the world spinning beneath their feet.
Negotiations, explanations, and arrangements took over. Tom, stumbling through his grandmother’s front door at midnight, said, ‘I’ve been thinking. I think I ought to get home quick.’
‘I think so
too,’ his grandmother said. ‘The sooner the better. Middle of the night here is only early evening in America. I’ll call your father at once.’
‘I’ll do it,’ said Tom.
He did this straight away, and the line went silent for so long that he was alarmed and asked, ‘Don’t you want me to come home?’
His father sounded strange, far away and creaky. He said, ‘A few hours ago I thought I’d lost you both.’ He paused and then shouted, ‘Of course we want you to come home!’
After that his voice became normal again, and he and Tom suddenly found that they could talk to each other as they had not done for years and years. Their easy understanding came back as if it had never gone away. Tom told his father about Rose and Indigo, and about Rose’s wonderful picture and Indigo’s battle on the bridge. He told how Indigo had hunted through the town and climbed the school to find him. In loving detail he described the black guitar, which had not left his sight since Rose had pushed it into his arms. The fact that it was now his was still almost unbelievable to Tom.
‘Do you think it will be all right on the plane?’ he asked.
‘Cover it with labels. Not just one. Put several on. And write our telephone number on them.’
‘How’s Frances?’
‘Hanging on.’
Ten minutes after Tom put the phone down it rang once more, and it was his father again.
‘Put a couple of labels on the inside of the case as well.’
‘OK.’
‘And Tom, I’ve insured it. Your new guitar. Just in case. Tell Rose.’
‘I will.’
‘I’m going to try and get you an earlier flight. For tomorrow if I can manage it.’
‘Is Frances really that ill?’ asked Tom, and his father said at once, ‘No, no, no, not at all! She is fine!’
This was so obviously untrue that Tom could think of nothing to say, and when his grandmother ordered ‘Bed,’ and took the telephone receiver from him, he did not try to argue. He picked up his guitar and climbed the stairs very slowly, too tired to think.
Bill Casson went back to London the next morning, but before he left he had a talk with Rose.
‘What happened, Rose, when you said “Daddy come home”?’
‘You came home.’
‘That will always happen.’
‘What if I say Come home and horrible Samantha says Stay?’
‘She never would. And she’s not horrible. You will meet her when you come to visit me.’
‘Can she cook?’
‘What?’
‘Can she cook?’
‘Well, you know Rose, being able to cook isn’t everything!’
‘I just thought if she was a nice fat strong lady who cooked all the time, like Sarah’s mother, she might be useful.’
Rose’s father, sounding a little depressed, had to admit that Samantha was in no way like this description. Rose hugged him and said she would come to visit anyway. All her anger towards her father had gone. He would never really understand her. He still talked of the possibility of scrubbing her picture off the kitchen wall. He had drifted away from them all into another life, with hardly a backward glance. Still, he had come home when she asked him to and he had bought Tom the black guitar. He was good and he was bad.
‘Everyone is,’ said Derek, who had vanished the night before, but reappeared again as soon as Bill was out of the house. ‘I see he didn’t unblock the sink before he left.’
‘He’s not the sink unblocking type,’ said Saffron.
‘Lucky some of us are. How’s Tom’s sister this morning? Heard anything?’
‘They’re trying a new antibiotic. It hasn’t had time to work yet.’
‘Fingers crossed then.’
‘They’ve got him an earlier flight. For tonight. Just in case…But Tom’s father says she’s a tough guy.’
‘That’s good.’
‘What’ll we do when he’s gone?’ asked Rose.
‘Telephone,’ replied Derek, as he tenderly unscrewed the U bend of the kitchen sink. ‘Telephone, write, e-mail, (don’t tell me you haven’t got a computer because I bet Sarah has!), take photos, draw pictures, learn to play guitar, save up your pennies for aeroplane tickets…Look at this waste pipe! Full of rock-hard oil paint! Has your lovely mum got no sense at all?’
‘Nope.’
‘Chunks of the stuff!’ continued Derek, knocking out lumps of rainbow-coloured gunge into the kitchen bin. ‘I’ve got to go in a minute, but before I do I wanted to tell you something, Indigo. I’ve got a friend who owes me a favour who has a friend who owes him a favour who says he can put that old Spanish guitar back together. I was talking to them both last night. Said he could put on a new back and restring it, no problem at all. How about that?’
‘I think that would be brilliant,’ said Indigo, gratefully. ‘Thanks, Derek. I’ll tell Tom when he gets here. He’s coming round as soon as he can, to say goodbye.’
Tom, when he arrived to say goodbye, was very pleased to hear of Derek’s suggestion.
‘It seemed awful to think of throwing it away,’ he said.
‘When it’s fixed, can Indy have it?’ asked Rose.
‘He can borrow it,’ said Tom, and spent the next hour writing out chord patterns and finger exercises for Indigo, watching carefully as he tried them out on the black guitar.
‘Your left hand fingers wave about too much,’ he said critically. ‘You want to keep them much closer to the strings. Rose, you’ll have to watch his left hand!’
‘I will,’ promised Rose.
‘Tom, how much time have you got?’ asked Caddy suddenly, and Tom looked at his watch and realised that he had no time at all. Working with Indigo he had been so engrossed that he had forgotten he only came over to tell them goodbye. Rose saw his face as he struggled to find words he did not want to say and she did not want to hear. Sliding past Caddy, completely unobserved, she disappeared from the room.
Saffron and Sarah helped Tom begin his hard task, hugging him extravagantly, saying, ‘Promise to ring the second you get back! Wiggle your eyebrows one more time! What a pity you never let us cut your hair! Wave to us out the plane window as you fly over! Look, he’s laughing! He’s glad to go!’
Tom, smiling despite himself, was pounced on next by Eve.
‘Bye, bye, Tom darling,’ she said, kissing him quickly. ‘I hope everything is all right for ever and ever! Oh dear! I’m sorry! Take no notice of me!’
Eve rushed outside to cry in the shed.
‘Goodbye, Caddy.’
‘Take care, Tom. We are going to miss you so much! I’ll bring Indy and Rose across to see you one day, I promise.’
‘Where is Rose?’ asked Tom, looking round.
Rose had vanished. Caddy went to hunt for her, and returned after a while saying she was nowhere to be found. This was not true. Rose was under Caddy’s bed, pressed as close as she could get to the wall. The sound of sniffing gave her away. Caddy bent down and peered underneath and found herself looking straight into Rose’s defiant eyes.
‘I’m busy,’ Rose had growled, and Caddy had nodded understandingly and tiptoed away.
‘Tell Rose goodbye from me,’ said Tom, unhappily. ‘Indigo…’
‘I’ll walk back with you,’ said Indigo quickly. Now that the time had come, now that there was no time at all, Indigo could not take in that Tom was truly going. This day. This afternoon. Now. It was unbelievable.
He and Tom walked back together, not talking much. Tom’s grandmother had the car all loaded, ready for the journey to the airport. She said hello to Indigo, and climbed into the driver’s seat, tactfully allowing them a little peace.
Tom said, ‘Don’t forget to say goodbye to Rose for me.’
‘I won’t.’
‘If you only borrow my old guitar, then one day you’ll have to give it back. That’s why I said borrow. I wasn’t being mean.’
‘I know.’
‘ ’Bye then, Indigo.’
�
� ’Bye Tom.’
Tom got into the car and rolled the window down. His grandmother started the engine. They both called something to Indigo, but he could not quite hear what it was. Perhaps they waved, but he did not see them do it. He could hardly make out the shape of the car as it drove away.
Afterwards he walked the streets like a person in a dream. His feet took him into town, but his mind took him nowhere. He felt as alone as if he had stepped out of time. He felt invisible again.
He did not know how far he walked, but somewhere along the way, David fell into step beside him. By the time Indigo noticed him, David, always a round and breathless sort of boy, was panting and red-faced with the effort to keep up. Indigo dimly recognised this, and slowed his pace a little.
David said brightly, ‘Hi, Indigo.’
‘Hello.’
‘I could see you hadn’t noticed me. I just thought I’d ask, you around this summer?’
‘Yes. Yes, I suppose so.’
‘I thought perhaps we could go bowling one day.’
‘That would be good.’
‘Maybe to the skateboard park?’
‘Yes. Good idea.’
‘Think Tom would come too?’
‘Oh yes,’ said Indigo, and then pulled himself together and said, ‘No. He’s gone back to America.’
‘That’s a shame.’
‘Mmmm.’
‘You’ll miss him.’
‘Yep.’
‘Me too. I liked hearing him talk. All that stuff about his dad and the bears and that. I knew it wasn’t true, but I liked hearing it.’
Indigo grinned a little.
‘I can’t talk like that. I’m pretty boring, compared.’
‘Who’s comparing?’
‘Shall I ring you then, about going bowling?’
‘Yes. Thanks, David. I’ll come.’
David disappeared from Indigo’s side, and he walked on alone, much more slowly now. Slower than David’s pace. Slower than Rose, trailing home from school. He was terribly, achingly, tired.
‘I’m only tired,’ he said, plodding through the kitchen door into Caddy’s hug.
At home the complete Casson comfort machine was in full swing. Rose was out from under the bed, lured by Sarah with an enormous new sketching block. Now she was drawing something that she kept well hidden in the circle of her arms.