Goodbye, Perfect

by Sara Barnard

  Me

  Where are you staying atm?

  Ivy

  This tiny house at the end of a terrace. It’s like a sub-sub-let, so totally secret ☺

  AND CHEAP! Like, peanuts cheap. The living room window is all boarded up and it’s a bit bare iykwim. I still love it, though!

  Ivy

  And omg, there’s a cat cafe down the road and it’s called the HOUSE of the CAT KINGS. CAT KINGS! How cute is that?

  Me

  Um, pretty cute?

  Haven’t gone in yet, just in case. But Jack says we can *just before we leave*. So we’ll be leaving anyway if they recognize us and snitch.

  Are you planning on leaving already???

  Not right now. Probs in a few days. It’s a good place to hide – no one pays any attention to us around here. We’re going to lay low until it blows over.

  Yeah, good idea. Stay for a few days, at least.

  I’m nervous about pushing too hard for an address, so I decide to wait and speak to Connor before I try again. And anyway, Valerie is calling up the stairs that she’s ready to go, so I sling my weekend bag over my shoulder and head downstairs.

  ‘Drive safe and keep me updated,’ Carolyn says to Valerie. They’re standing in the open doorway, Valerie swinging her keys between her fingers. When I approach, Carolyn smiles, reaching to touch my face. ‘Have a good trip, OK?’

  It’s just after three when we set off, which is good because we should get pretty far before rush hour hits. All in all, we should be in York by eight. It probably won’t even be dark yet.

  But still, I’m fidgety and nervous as we pull up outside Connor’s house and watch him come jogging down the driveway with a holdall in one hand and a bottle of water in the other. So many things could still go wrong. It would be just my luck if there was a huge traffic jam on the A1 and we got stuck for hours or, worse, had to turn around and come home again.

  ‘Hey, Valerie,’ Connor says as he climbs into the back seat. ‘Thanks for letting me tag along.’

  ‘No worries,’ Valerie says. ‘The more the merrier, right?’

  I look sharply at her. Sarcasm? Her smile is so innocent. No way. Valerie McKinley doesn’t do sarcasm. Does she?

  Connor leans forward to drop a kiss on my cheek as Valerie puts the car back into gear and eases off down the road. ‘Hey,’ he says. ‘I checked the traffic reports for the whole journey. It’s all clear to York.’

  I turn my head so he can see my grin. Connor is the best. The actual perfect best. I don’t say this out loud because Valerie is sitting right there, but I’m pretty sure he gets it anyway because he wiggles his nose at me as he sits back down and puts on his seatbelt. It’s adorable.

  My phone buzzes as we turn on to the main road out of Larking, and I open the message to see a ton of exclamation marks and a lot of sad-face emojis. Daisy.

  ‘Daisy’s upset we’ve gone without her,’ I say to Valerie, unable to keep the affectionate smile off my face as I send back hugs and a promise that she can come next time.

  ‘Aw,’ Valerie says. ‘Poor Daze. I guess she’s not used to being left out of sister stuff.’

  I glance at her, but she’s smiling, so I decide that her words weren’t the dig they sounded like. ‘Daisy doesn’t like to be left out of anything,’ I say.

  ‘Tell her we’ll bring her back a York hoodie, or something,’ Connor suggests from the back seat.

  If everything goes to plan, the only thing I’ll be bringing back from this trip is Bonnie, but I grin and nod anyway. Who knows, maybe we’ll have time to actually visit Valerie’s uni, and we really can buy a present for my little sister.

  ‘This is pretty exciting,’ Valerie says with a smile. ‘It’ll be so great to show you the university, Eden.’ She pauses. ‘And you, Connor.’

  ‘Great!’ Connor says cheerfully. ‘And there’s a castle too, right?’

  I glance over my shoulder and give him a look, trying to remind him telepathically that we’re not actually going to spend much time in York, but he just grins at me.

  ‘Yeah,’ Valerie says. ‘There’s a lot of that kind of thing in York, if that’s what you’re into. There are old city walls that we can walk along, if you like?’

  ‘Great!’ he says again. ‘What made you choose York for uni?’

  I stop listening, settling back against my seat to watch the road signs pass as we gradually leave Larking, and then Kent, behind.

  We stop for petrol at an Esso garage not long after we leave, which turns out to be more about refuelling Valerie – with coffee – than the car. We hit some traffic when we first join the A1, but apart from that the first couple of hours are smooth sailing. Valerie and Connor chat about A levels and university and what kind of careers Connor can go into that involve birds. I don’t contribute much, just watch the road and think about Bonnie. Specifically, her address. A random end-of-terrace in Glasgow doesn’t seem like much to go on, even with a cat cafe nearby. But I can’t exactly speak to her or ask Connor for help while we’re sitting in the car next to Valerie, so I try to put it out of my mind for now. There’ll be a way to get the address somehow.

  The next time we stop to stretch our legs it’s just after five and we’re right on schedule. Valerie finds a space in the car park so we can get out of the car for a few minutes and remember what fresh air smells like. I hop a little on my feet outside of the car, winding my arms around my shoulders.

  ‘Are you hungry?’ Valerie asks, glancing up at me. She’s sitting sideways in the driver’s seat with the door open, feet on the concrete as she fiddles with the satnav, a little frown of concentration on her face.

  ‘Not massively,’ I say. ‘Are you?’

  ‘No, but I’m trying to figure out if it’s better to eat now or wait until we get to York. We’ll probably get there about eight. Is that too late? We could grab some pizza or something.’

  ‘Sounds fine to me,’ I say, shrugging. I’m finding it hard to care about food, partly because of Carolyn’s car picnic, but mostly because my stomach has been keeping up its low-level churning of anxiety since we left Larking. ‘Connor?’

  ‘I can wait,’ he says.

  ‘Cool, we’ll wait till we get there, then,’ Valerie says. ‘I’m just going to run in and grab a drink. Back in a sec.’

  I watch her jog off towards the shop, then turn to Connor. ‘Hey,’ I say. ‘How can I get Bonnie’s address without outright asking her?’

  He looks up from his own phone. ‘You don’t already have it?’

  I shake my head, feeling heat rise in my cheeks. It’s not that much of a problem, is it? There’ll be a way to get it.

  ‘How come you can’t just ask her?’

  ‘She’d get suspicious, wouldn’t she? What if they leave Glasgow and don’t tell me where they’ve gone?’

  He looks at me for a long moment, and for a second I think he might actually be annoyed with me. ‘Eeds, did you not think about this before we left on the cross-country trip?’

  ‘There was a lot to think about!’ I say, instantly defensive. ‘You know, logistics and stuff.’

  ‘The address is logistics,’ Connor says. ‘Do you know anything specific about where they are? Anything at all?’

  ‘There’s a cat cafe on the same road.’

  Connor’s eyebrows go up. ‘She’s a literal runaway, you’re the only one who knows where she is, and she told you about a cat cafe and nothing else?’

  ‘Yeah, she thought it was cute. It’s called House of the Cat Kings.’

  ‘Girls,’ he mutters.

  ‘What was that?’

  ‘Valerie’s coming,’ he says. ‘I’ll look it up and see if it’s easy to figure it out from there.’

  I look up to see Valerie stepping out of the shop and heading towards us, a takeaway cup of coffee in her hand.

  ‘You drink a lot of coffee,’ I say when she reaches us.

  ‘Is that a problem?’ she asks, opening her door and sliding inside.

&nbs
p; ‘Just an observation,’ I say, getting into the car.

  Valerie rolls her eyes a little. ‘Right.’ She fumbles with the gearstick and glances in the rear-view mirror as she pulls out of the parking space.

  ‘What is this music?’ I ask once we’re back on the motorway.

  ‘It’s Christine and the Queens,’ she says, smiling in that way people automatically do when they talk about music they like. ‘Isn’t it great?’

  ‘Why is it in French?’

  ‘Because . . . she’s French?’ She glances at my annoyed expression and laughs. ‘I like to listen to French music because it helps me keep up with the language now I’m not learning it in school any more. Besides, this is a mix of English and French lyrics. Just listen to it, it’s good. Promise.’

  See, this is why Valerie and me aren’t close. This exact thing. I can barely count to ten in French, and she chooses to listen to French music. ‘Whatever,’ I say.

  And then she starts singing along. In French.

  ‘Oh, my God,’ I say. ‘Can you just not?’

  From the back seat, I can hear Connor laughing, as if Valerie is doing this to be funny instead of trying to wind me up.

  ‘Détendez-vous, mon petit choufleur,’ she says.

  ‘Show-off,’ I mutter.

  ‘Cheer up, grumpy,’ she says. ‘We’re away from Kent, just like you wanted. Can’t you be a bit happier?’

  I shrug and look out of the window, the countryside zipping by. Nearly three more hours of this to go.

  ‘Look, we don’t have to listen to music,’ Valerie says. ‘We can just talk instead, can’t we?’ There’s a pause, which I know I’m meant to fill, but I just carry on looking out of the window. Finally, she says, ‘Hey, Connor, how did you find your exams this week?’

  I try not to sigh too loudly as he begins to answer. The last thing I want to talk about is exams and Kett Academy. The whole ‘I need a break from Kent’ thing might have been a ruse to get Valerie to agree to drive us, but that doesn’t mean it’s not a bit true as well. I run my fingers along the sides of my phone, wondering whether I should message Bonnie, or whether that would be a terrible idea. I don’t even know if she’ll be happy to see me. What if she thinks I’m just there to spoil the party? I mean, I kind of am trying to spoil the party. But in a good way, in the long run.

  ‘What are you thinking about?’ Valerie asks.

  ‘Bonnie,’ I say, then regret it.

  ‘That makes sense,’ she says, with a kind of sympathetic tone that annoys me. ‘Maybe she was on this exact road. Did they ever figure out how they’ve been getting around since they left their car at Portsmouth?’

  ‘They probably just paid cash for a cheap one,’ I say, then regret it, worrying I’ve given too much away, but Valerie is nodding.

  ‘Yeah, they must’ve,’ she says. She lets out a disbelieving kind of laugh. ‘God, it’s so crazy. Your little friend Bonnie, you know? Doing something so . . . wild.’

  ‘It’s not that crazy,’ I say, which is stupid, because it is that crazy. But the last conversation I want to have right now is the same old ‘But Bonnie’s so good!’ one I’ve been hearing all week.

  ‘Sure it is,’ she says easily. ‘One of my friends at uni was actually talking to me about it on Sunday, not knowing that I know Bonnie, and she was saying how she had a thing with one of her teachers, but after she’d left school. She says she’s glad he never tried it on when she was younger, because she’d probably have thought it was a great idea, and that would have been a disaster.’

  ‘Why? If she ended up getting with him anyway?’

  ‘Because there’s a huge difference between getting with your actual teacher and getting with an adult who used to be your teacher when you, yourself, are also an adult.’

  ‘Why? How much difference does a year or two really make?’

  ‘Depends. Are you talking morally, ethically or legally?’ The voice she uses to say this is like a cheese grater to my nerves. And then she glances at me and says, ‘You don’t actually think what Bonnie’s doing is a good thing, do you?’

  Of course I don’t, but I don’t want to agree with her more. ‘We can’t all be perfect,’ I mutter.

  I practically feel her bristle at the words. ‘What’s that supposed to mean?’ she asks.

  ‘Just that you don’t have to rub it in,’ I say. From behind me, I hear Connor give a nervous little rustle in his seat.

  ‘How am I rubbing anything in? I’m talking about Bonnie, not you. Why do you have to take everything so personally?’

  ‘Bonnie’s like a part of me,’ I say, which doesn’t really make much sense when I hear it out loud, but whatever. ‘So you are kind of saying it about me.’

  ‘What are you even talking about?’ And then she lets out a small laugh, like I’m just oh-so-hilarious, and it pushes me over the edge.

  ‘Oh, just stop it, OK?’ I snap. ‘Just stop. You just don’t get it, and you never will, so just stop.’

  ‘Get what? What don’t I get?’

  ‘Screwing up!’

  ‘You think I don’t get . . . screwing up?’

  ‘Everything’s always gone right for you.’

  Valerie lets out the short, sharp bark of an as-if laugh. ‘What the fuck does that mean?’

  ‘That your life is all clean and neat,’ I say, the words spilling out like they’ve been just waiting there all this time. ‘You don’t know what it’s like for things to be messy and fucked-up and hard.’

  ‘You think my life has just been plain sailing?’ There’s disbelief in her voice. ‘Is that seriously what you’re saying to me?’

  ‘You’ve never done anything wrong!’ I burst out. ‘God, did you ever even get a detention in school? Did you ever get caught bunking off? Did you ever even get a C?’

  I glance at Valerie to see that her jaw is tense, her eyes fixed on the road. She shakes her head slightly, like she can’t believe what she’s hearing.

  ‘Even your first break-up was like some kind of feminist powerhouse move,’ I say. ‘Deciding you were better on your own, breaking up with your boyfriend, and then travelling by yourself. God. Has anything ever even gone wrong for you?’

  ‘Oh, come on, Eden,’ she snaps. ‘Don’t be so naïve.’

  ‘What?’ I demand. I’m so ready for a fight.

  ‘That boyfriend you’re talking about? He cheated on me.’

  ‘He what?’

  ‘He cheated on me. In Thailand. I went back to the hotel with a headache, and he ended up getting off with some American tourist in a bar. And then on the beach.’ She looks at me as if she thinks I might not get what she means, and then adds, entirely unnecessarily, ‘I don’t mean just kissing “getting off”. I mean they had sex.’

  I open my mouth, but nothing comes out.

  ‘Her name was Lou-Ann,’ she adds, wrinkling her nose. I’ve never seen such an ugly look on her face before.

  ‘But you said . . .’ I try. ‘You said you realized you were better on your own.’

  ‘I said that to save face. I didn’t want my little sister knowing I was so undesirable my boyfriend cheated at the first opportunity. Of course I didn’t tell you – why would I? You want to know how awful it was, having to decide about travelling on my own? Telling Mum and Dad? You want to know how completely heartbroken I was?’

  I try to picture this, but I can’t. Valerie, broken-hearted and helpless, alone in a hotel room in Thailand. Yelling at her cheating boyfriend, throwing his clothes across the room in a rage. She’s Valerie. She has a cool head at all times. A solution for everything.

  ‘You already think I’m the most boring person alive,’ she adds, smacking her hand against the indicator far harder than necessary and then changing lanes. ‘I didn’t want you thinking I was pathetic as well.’

  ‘I don’t think you’re the most boring person alive,’ I protest, but a little meekly, because even though it’s not true, I know why she thinks it is. And that’s pretty horrible, isn
’t it?

  ‘And actually, you know what?’ she continues, talking right over me. ‘You want some more proof that I’m not as weirdly perfect as you seem to think I am? OK, fine. I actually find plants really boring. I always have, and I give away the orchid Dad gets me for my birthday every year to my housemates so I don’t have to take care of it. I walk past homeless people and try to pretend I don’t see them, even though that’s a shitty thing to do, and I know it is. I never stick to my skincare regime, even though I spent loads of money on the stupid expensive night moisturizer. Sometimes I just can’t be bothered to recycle, so I chuck everything in the bin. Last year I slept with my housemate’s boyfriend.’

  ‘Valerie!’ I gasp, unable to stop myself.

  ‘I tell myself that I was really drunk, but I actually wasn’t that drunk and they’re still together and I never told a single person it happened.’

  From the back seat, Connor lets out a loud, unsubtle cough, like he’s hoping Valerie will remember he’s there and stop all this over-sharing.

  ‘There,’ Valerie says. She’s breathing hard, her hands tight to the wheel, eyes fixed on the road. ‘Has that done it? Do you still think I’m perfect, Eden?’

  I don’t know what to think, let alone say. I just sit there in silence, twisting my hands together, staring at my fingernails.

  ‘No?’ she prompts. ‘Nothing to say? No comeback?’

  Again, she waits for me to reply, but I don’t know how. I hear Connor shift again in his seat. The car trundles on.

  ‘Look,’ Valerie says, her voice softer. ‘What I’m trying to say is, you can’t be so distant from me, and act like you don’t have any interest in who I am or what my life is, and instead judge me on whatever it is you’re making up in your own head.’

  I open my mouth, lick my lips, swallow and say nothing.