Blue Lavender Girl

by Judy May

  DAY 18

  I have decided I need a goal. I can’t think of one yet, but I know it will have nothing whatsoever to do with hockey or maths.

  I bet if I had a goal people would like me more and think I was doing something important. Then I could talk about what I was doing and not just about how crap everything is. I know I say that I don’t like most people, and it’s a bit true because everyone annoys me, but I would love some friends to be happy with. Jenny is so happy already that I don’t think I could ever catch up, but I will ask her to help me get a goal.

  First I will read ten pages of Jane Eyre in case there is some inspiration in there. I am loving reading it, but reading classic books isn’t really a goal because I’m already doing it

  ***

  OK, done the ten pages. I now know that my goal will not involve sketching or governessing.

  LATER

  Went to Jenny’s and Jackson was there. It was like when a well-behaved dog and a cat meet. Me and Jackson hated each other straight away.

  He looked at me for a long time and said, ‘Do you always wear black?’

  ‘Do you always ask stupid questions?’ I fired back

  Then Jenny got all bright and breezy and told us we all had to get along or we’d end up having to hang out with old people all summer.

  She was right, so we pretended to be friendly. He offered to make me a cup of chamomile tea, and I said that the lavender he left me is very nice. I didn’t tell him how amazing it looks in the pink glass bowl I put it in, or how it makes the whole room smell delicious. I didn’t want him thinking I thought he was great or anything just for picking some flowers that were obviously meant to impress Jenny and not me.

  I accepted his apology about the other day in the courtyard, because apparently his grandfather really has good and lost it, and might have done anything if he saw me there looking through the window. Jenny says he is a lovely old man, and it’s a shame that since he was sick he doesn’t really know what’s going on, and that when he gets afraid he shouts.

  Jackson so fancies Jenny, it’s really obvious. He doesn’t really look at me or speak to me as he is so focused on her. He’s so not my type anyway, dressed in a rugby shirt and pristine jeans, with sun bleached hair and a posh accent. Also, he talked about things that had nothing to do with me and I think that’s just rude.

  Also, he complains a lot. The next thing he said was, ‘Something is going on with Mr Walsh and I can’t work out what it is.’

  ‘Mr Walsh is the estate manager,’ Jenny explained.

  ‘It’s like since Grandad’s illness, Mr Walsh thinks the place is his, and any time I ask questions or ask if I can see the accounts, he treats me like I’m some interfering kid who has no right being there.’

  I decided that this Mr Walsh has the right idea about how to treat Jackson. I might try treating him like an itrritating kid myself! He has this annoying habit of swaying when he talks, backwards and forwards with his hands deep in his pockets. Give him a pipe and he could be someone’s Dad. I have never, ever met someone my age who is so un-hip. I mean, there’s Dolores from the year below me with the glasses thicker than a cake, but apart from her.

  They talked about Mr Walsh for a while and I was half tuned-out. Then when Jackson said something about Mr Walsh buying paint and hiring people to paint the east wing, I realised he might be that man I’d seen in the village.

  ‘I know him, he wears a checked shirt and bought twenty pots of Jasmine White emulsion.’

  ‘Ten’, Jackson said.

  ‘No, twenty,’ I insisted, ‘I remember because our house is number 20.’

  ‘It only takes ten,’ he mumbled. ‘I know because we did the exact same thing four years ago. I wonder why he bought so much extra?’

  This thought made Jackson go all quiet and fidgety so Jenny said, ‘Why don’t we go for a walk to the lavender field?’

  The Park is huge. Enormous. We walked for ages, past the lake, then past the Big House and a cute little fancy stone hut thing, and then through the lavender field (even bigger than the one you can see on the way to the village) and on to a funny looking single storey building which Jenny said was the old tearooms.

  ‘They used to serve afternoon tea here, and have dances, but it’s been closed down for over thirty years,’ Jackson explained.

  Then they both began to talk about when they were little and would play together for the summer. The abandoned tearoom was their favourite place to play until three summers ago Mr Walsh decided it was dangerous and locked the place up entirely. They didn’t fight it because it was the same summer that Jackson had to start learning about the estate and Nanny Gloria got Jenny started with the good citizen bit.

  The tearoom is about the size of six classrooms, and has amazing doors, ceilings, and windows, but it’s really dirty and run down. It was a single huge space like a nightclub, but a daytime, old-fashioned one, with chairs and tables stacked at the sides. We didn’t go in because Jenny once saw a rat there, which Jackson said was a mouse. I wasn’t in the mood for either.

  As we headed back through the lavender field it suddenly began to rain. So we ran back to the tearoom, but the doors were locked. For a second I thought about kicking in the door and getting in that way, but I knew it would look bad. I had to do something because the rain was now getting quite heavy. Luckily, there was a window with no glass that was pretty high up, but big enough to get through. I had Jackson give me a leg up and I got through and jumped down the other side. Then it was easy to unbolt the door and let them in from the inside.

  I didn’t tell them about how we used to break into the school gym during the holidays, and how I always went first because I’m so small. I didn’t want them to think I was a total vandal.

  Once we were all inside there wasn’t much to do except stand there and say obvious things like, ‘Look at that rain!’

  After twenty minutes or so it was still bucketing down and we knew we’d be there for a while at least. Jenny started to show Jackson how to waltz like the manager of the supermarket had showed her, and we both nearly fell over with shock when he just took off waltzing with her. He dances better than most professionals.

  ‘We have to learn it in school,’ he shrugged, suddenly embarrassed. I actually though it was so cool, but I didn’t tell him that. Imagine someone as annoying as him actually being able to do something good.

  He then looked at me as if he felt he had to dance with me too, so I quickly started looking around and commenting on the walls and mirrors and chairs. I don’t know why, but I was suddenly really aware of my clumpy black boots compared to Jenny’s cute, red shoes. I’d have been like a bloody elephant. I can’t do those kind of dances, only the kind where you dance by yourself to rock music, preferably totally alone. I’d love to be able to dance like Jackson, but it’s not likely.

  The rain went on for ages and we cooked up this plan for cleaning and tidying the place so we’d have somewhere to hang out.

  Jackson was so psyched about the idea because he sleeps in a dorm at boarding school (like Jenny), then in the Big House he’s at his grandad’s beck and call, and in his parents’ house his little brother is always coming into his room. There is something so unattractive about a guy getting overly-excited. I much prefer guys who play it cool and act like they don’t care about anything. Suddenly he was a geek again.

  He walked us back to the Gate Lodge, no doubt hoping for time alone with Jenny, poor girl. I got on my bike so I don’t know how successful he was with the whole Jenny thing.

  ***

  Aunt Maisie showed me some recipes for oatmeal cookies that keep fresh for days in a tin. It took me a while, but I managed to make two batches of them. I made the normal ones first and then got carried away because they actually tasted like cookies and not like something that I’d made. In the next lot I put raisins in and these ones taste even better. I am now totally in love with myself and think I am the best cook in the world! I put them in a cool red tin
Aunt Maisie gave me, and we’ll keep them in the tearoom for snacks.

  Aunt Maisie laughed at the way I only let us have one cookie each with our hot chocolate.

  I read more Jane Eyre and realised that no-one is really into cooking in that book, because they leave it all up to the kitchen staff. Maybe Mr Rochester wouldn’t drink so much wine if Jane made him the odd oatmeal and raisin cookie. Actually, she’d be better off just leaving, I don’t think he really wants her around. If a man acts weird it’s not the girl’s job to fix him as if he was a shirt with a rip in it.

  I have been having loads of dreams about flowers and food all in a big messy pile, and people fighting me, trying to take it all away. I bet I have another of those dreams tonight. I bet Kira would know what it means, she has a book about dream interpretation.

  Tomorrow I am going to work really hard all day at getting the tearoom in order and then I will be able to sit in there and look out over the lavender and think about my goal.

  DAY 19

  Aunt Maisie still wakes me up with a cup of tea every morning and I really love that. It makes me feel like a lot of stuff from home is getting fixed, like I am getting enough attention for now and for then.

  I got the leftover blue lavender paint and two brushes and put them in a bag along with the tin of oatmeal cookies.

  Jackson and Jenny were already sweeping when I got there, and I got busy so that they get that I am serious about this. I know back home I am really lazy, but that’s just because there is nothing I want to do. Here I want to do things even if I don’t know what they are.

  Jackson said, ‘That colour really suits you’, and I just gave him a look because I was all in black as usual so I guessed he was being sarcastic. I bet he was just trying to sound all charming in front of Jenny. But about an hour later I caught my reflection in a newly-washed window and saw that I had got a big streak of lavender paint on the side of my face from when I opened the can to see how much was in there. There was some on my hand too, so I must have touched my face and it wiped off. It least I didn’t pick my nose and leave that all painty, but still I felt as big an idiot as that time I sat on a chewing gum paper and had it stuck to my arse for a full day in town. Dee swore she didn’t see it but Kira told me in a game of truth or dare that she did and that everyone told each other not to tell me.

  Anyway, I was feeling embarrassed and didn’t talk to Jackson much after that, I just pretended I was too busy to notice when he said something funny or asked a question. Even when we stopped for a half-dozen cookie-breaks, I made myself all distant, and said I was ‘tired’ or ‘thinking’ whenever Jenny asked. A guy would never ask you how you are feeling unless you had trained him really well.

  It was amazing now much we got done. The floor was spotless, the chairs, tables and windows washed, and we’d made a start on stripping off the old peeling paintwork on the wooden window frames. We were just deciding how much of the room to paint in lavender, when Mr Walsh rushed in. He had a look on his face like he’d eaten a vat of chillies, his mouth open and a red fire in his cheeks.

  He was so obviously trying to sound in control, but not really doing that great a job when he roared, ‘What is going on here?’

  Jackson didn’t even look at him and said really calmly, ‘We are cleaning this place up because Bob and I have decided we want to hang out here this summer. Grandfather is fine with it, and it’s his tearoom, no-one else’s.’

  I had no idea who Bob was, and thought that the idea of Jackson having an imaginary friend at his age made him seem so much more interesting.

  ‘Your grandfather hasn’t the capacity to make those sorts of decisions,’ Mr Walsh was practically spitting by now.

  Jackson answered, still calm, ‘Well, then I’ll ask my uncle, after all he’s the heir. In fact, he’ll be here briefly tomorrow evening and I’ll ask him then. Will you be wanting to meet with him, Mr Walsh?’

  Mr Walsh just made a face and walked away. He is so rude, I’ve never met anyone like him. Oh, except I said that about Jackson who turned out to be more sappy than awful.

  ‘You can’t just set up camp anywhere you want. This Park is a business,’ Mr Walsh shouted from half way across the lavender field.

  ‘And a home, and at least for the summer it’s my home,’ Jackson boomed back, sounding like Mr In-Charge.

  I didn’t know he had it in him!

  Mr Walsh had been way too angry for what was going on. After all, the place had been locked up for years. I wonder if he bought the extra paint so he could do the tearoom up by himself? And then sit there drinking tiny china cups of earl grey tea all day and letting the Park and Big House crumble to the ground!

  It was after 6p.m., and we couldn’t believe we’d been working for seven hours with only cookie breaks. We decided to leave the painting for another day, that way (as Jenny and Jackson agreed) Bob could help too. I wanted to ask them who Bob was, but it was kind of hard to do as I couldn’t work out how to stop cold-shouldering Jackson without it seeming odd.

  Luckily, us girls had already made plans to watch a movie in Jenny’s bedroom.

  Jackson looked a bit sad that we didn’t invite him, but when we explained it was a girls’ night in, he looked relieved not to be involved, and practically ran off.

  Once he’d gone I could get the info that Bob is Jackson’s cousin who is seventeen and hasn’t been over for the last four summers. Apparently he is short, loud and annoying and keeps doing silly things like tipping food into people’s laps or making fart sounds under his armpit to get attention. Jenny says that she hopes his last four years have made him understand that something is only funny when both people are laughing. Then, because she always has to see the good side, she said she’s sure he is very changed and will be fine to hang out with.

  ‘Yes Jenny, maybe he’s grown a foot taller and been in a Swiss finishing school for the last four years, majoring in the social graces.’

  ‘Anyway, if he’s completely unbearable we can gang up on him and throw him in the lake,’ she said miserably, which means that he must be pretty hideous.

  While Jenny and I sat there getting toast crumbs on her bed I somehow told Jenny that I was really jealous of the way that she dresses and laughs, and the way she is so whirling and happy. Then I was amazed when she told me that she was really jealous of the way I say funny things, and the way I am so daring, like I don’t let other people dictate my life. We agreed to help each other, and Jenny said she will nudge me whenever I start to look miserable so I can remember to smile. And I am going to encourage her every time she says or does something daring, something that is not meant to make someone else happy.

  I feel really good after that chat and I think that Jenny is now my best friend, even though I don’t know her for nearly as long as I know Kira and Dee. I think sometimes you just click with people, and it doesn’t matter how long or short a time you’ve known them.

  Nanny Gloria let us bring the TV and dvd player up to Jenny’s room and we watched this really old movie where the man and the woman were fighting all the time, but it was as if, each time they danced together, they fell in love in spite of themselves. The man wasn’t my type, probably not anyone’s type, all skinny and a pointy chin, but when he was dancing you thought he was really handsome. It was brilliant.

  I had to cycle quickly because I was quite late because we were having such a laugh afterwards, acting out the scenes from the movie.

  Aunt Maisie said that my mum called and said they won’t be visiting this weekend as planned, but that she asked did I need anything.

  ‘Parents, I need parents,’ I mumbled, and made my way upstairs.

  I am not sure if I am now in a good mood or a bad mood.

  DAY 20

  I’m going to be the best dancer in the world. That is my goal. No up-to-date stuff either, only the romantic dances like that lady in the movie last night. The trouble is that I need someone to teach me, and someone to dance with.

  I wonder if
you can do that for a career, dancing like they did in the olden days?

  ‘Hello, I’m a doctor’, ‘Hello, I’m a lawyer’, ‘Hello, I’m a long-dress-type dancer, like in black and white films.’

  I practised waltzing around the garden because Aunt Maisie was out for the morning. Sometimes I did it as Rose Red, sometimes as the girl in the film last night, and sometimes as me. I wish I could get it right, I know that there is complicated stuff you can do that looks better. Problem is that if I ask Jackson to help me then he will think he is great and that I fancy him. So I’ll maybe go to the supermarket at a quiet time and see if the manager is free (joke!).

  This afternoon when I was walking past the lake on the way to the tearoom, Jackson was standing there (in a very unfortunate pair of loafers) as if he was waiting, and when he saw me said he had a surprise. I guessed he had got something for Jenny and wanted to see if I thought she’d like it. Instead of going to the tearoom we turned towards the little hut. It’s tiny, about the size of an ordinary garden shed, but it’s a hexagon shape and made of stone. Inside it also has loads of flowers and angels and seashells carved on the stone and a bench that runs right around the edge. The door is the best. It’s made of wood and has iron fancy bits that look like ivy all over it. Anyway it was totally empty except for a cardboard box with a grey baby rabbit inside. Jackson seemed at a bit of a loss for how to explain it.

  ‘I caught these kids trying to put it in the lake to see if it could swim. And when I yelled they just ran off and left it there on the bank. I’ve been feeding him water and grass, but I don’t really know what to do. Jenny is usually the one who’s good in these situations.’