‘Just ringing to make sure you’re okay.’
A rush of tears flooded Ruth’s eyes.
‘I’m okay,’ she said stiffly, feeling like she was choking. ‘Why wouldn’t I be?’
‘You don’t sound okay,’ her mother said.
‘Mum … I just –’ She stopped and tried again. ‘They’re going to …’
But just at that moment there was a sharp little knock at the door. Ruth let the phone fall and watched it bounce on the carpet. She could hear her mother’s voice calling through the phone. Ruth! You still there? Ruth’s mouth went dry. It would be Cindy; what would she say? There was another knock, and with a sinking heart Ruth said good bye to her mother and went to the door.
But it wasn’t Cindy. It was a pretty girl of about sixteen with curly blonde hair and green eyes. There was something familiar about her, but Ruth wasn’t sure what.
‘Hi there, I’m Bianca.’ The girl held out her hand. ‘I’m staying in the room across from you. Mind if I come in?’
Ruth stared at her in surprise.
‘Ruth,’ she said, taking the girl’s hand shyly. ‘Er, why do you want to … come in?’
To be honest, I noticed you spying on that party a few doors down. Then I saw you running back looking … upset, so …’ the girl shrugged and smiled. ‘Here I am.’
Ruth covered her mouth and flushed with embarrassment.
‘You saw me?’
‘Yep.’ The girl smiled again. ‘I thought we could swap sob stories.’
Ruth took in the nice jeans, the suede boots, the friendly, direct manner.
‘You have a sob story too?’ she asked.
‘Do I ever,’ the girl said with a breezy laugh. ‘My life is an absolute horror show.’
Why not? thought Ruth. Talking to Bianca would be better than sitting on her own waiting for Cindy.
‘Okay.’ She held the door open and stepped aside.
‘Come in.’
‘Thanks,’ the girl said, walking in and going straight to the window. ‘Nice view,’ she murmured, looking out at the city, ‘but what good is it when your heart is breaking?’
‘Er … yeah, well. Would you like a drink?’ Ruth called from the fridge. ‘There’s Coke, juice or sparkling water.’
‘Juice if you have some, thanks.’
‘What flavour?’
‘Don’t care.’
Ruth handed over an orange juice and watched as Bianca settled herself into one of the easy chairs. Ruth sat on the bed and opened her own bottle of soft drink. She still felt all tangled up inside, but there was something really nice about the girl’s face.
‘Okay,’ she said with a smile, ‘you first.’
‘Well,’ Bianca said, ‘I’m staying here with my mother. And I just get so sick of her! I can predict every single thing that is going to come out of that woman’s mouth. Do you know what I mean?’
‘Yeah.’ Ruth nodded.
‘You just have to escape sometimes, right?’
‘Right.’
The girl laughed quietly and took a long slurp of her drink. ‘She’s such a snob! Oh, that person can’t sit next to this one, and we can’t possibly have him there! And not that glassware. Blah blah.’
‘What does she do?’
‘Nothing except phone her friends most of the time,’ Bianca sighed dramatically, ‘but we’re here to organise my older sister’s wedding and you’d think it was World War Three! Every detail has to be so perfect!’
‘But maybe that’s what your sister wants?’ Ruth ventured.
Bianca frowned and looked thoughtful. ‘You might be right,’ she admitted, ‘but I wish they’d leave me out of it!’
‘What do they want you to do?’
‘They insist on dragging me along with them to dress fittings and menu tastings and shoe shops and the rest of it. And it is soooooo boring!’
‘Are you going to be a bridesmaid?’
Bianca nodded, then groaned loudly and dropped her head onto her knees.
‘You should see the horrible dress I have to wear!’
Ruth didn’t know what to say. She knew what it was like being dragged along to things that she wasn’t interested in. But being a bridesmaid had been a secret desire of hers for years. She often wished someone would ask her. Going around to different shops for fittings and shoes sounded like fun, but she didn’t know how to say that without sounding unsympathetic.
Bianca must have guessed what she was thinking, because she gave a rueful laugh. ‘Oh, I guess it’s not so bad. I’m just in the mood for griping!’
‘Oh.’ Ruth smiled.
‘Do you think it will ever rain?’ Bianca asked, looking at the grey sky outside.
‘Looks like it.’
‘Well, at least rain suits our mood, doesn’t it? I’m sixteen years old and I still have no say over my life.’ She took a hard look at Ruth. ‘How old are you?’
‘Nearly twelve.’
‘No way, I would have thought you were older!’
‘It’s because I’m tall.’
‘Still, you look … mature.’
‘Do I?’
‘Sure you do. I bet you’d get into MA movies.’
Ruth smiled and thought of her plan that morning to go see something fifteen-plus.
‘So, do you have a boyfriend?’ Bianca asked.
‘No. But … I have got brothers.’
‘Put you off, huh?’
‘You could say that.’
‘I saw you having a blub before.’
‘How embarrassing.’
‘Don’t worry. We all do it. What was yours about?’
Ruth took a deep breath. She’d momentarily forgotten about overhearing Cindy. Now it was her turn, but …where to begin?
‘Well,’ Ruth said, breathing out, ‘my aunt …’
* * *
Ruth ended up telling Bianca all about Mary Ellen and being on telly and what she’d been doing that afternoon. She told her about the house and her mother’s silliness in agreeing for it to be on television. Bianca listened carefully but didn’t say anything for some time. Ruth thought she might have bored her.
‘Your family sounds totally cool,’ Bianca said softly after a while.
‘Believe me, they’re not,’ Ruth replied dryly.
‘But your mum doesn’t care about her house and she does art and … that’s cool.’
‘It’s not cool at all.’ Ruth pictured her mother wearing her ridiculous smock with dried mud all over it. ‘You should see the stuff she makes.’
‘Really?’
‘Yeah. Just …’
‘Hideous?’
‘Absolutely hideous.’
‘What kind of stuff?’
‘Just these weird little animal figures and funny bowls that you can’t even use for anything! Most of them have little squiggles on the sides for decoration. She calls herself a potter and she can’t even use the wheel properly!’
‘So why does she do it?’ Bianca asked, laughing at Ruth’s outrage.
‘Don’t ask me!’
Ruth began to laugh herself and it felt good, even if she was a little rusty.
‘And you have brothers! I would do anything for a brother,’ Bianca said dramatically. ‘Not another sister, thank you very much; not any kind of a sister, but a brother would be … radical.’
‘Only because you’ve never had one.’ Ruth smiled.
‘Bianca!’ a woman’s voice called. ‘Where are you?’
Bianca rolled her eyes.
‘The commander calls!’ she groaned as she stood and stretched.
‘Bianca, there is a taxi waiting for us downstairs!’
‘Okay, Mum.’ Bianca went to the door, opened it and peered out. ‘I’m in here.’
‘Oh.’ A woman’s face appeared around the door. ‘Hello,’ she said pleasantly to Ruth, ‘sorry to intrude.’
Bianca rolled her eyes again, but Ruth was thinking that the woman had a nice smile and that she and Bianca were v
ery alike.
‘Have you heard her tragic life story yet, love?’ the woman asked with a laugh.
‘Shut up, Mum!’ Bianca pushed the door closed on her. ‘Give me two minutes, please.’
‘Okay.’ Bianca’s mother shut the door. ‘See you downstairs,’ she called.
Ruth and Bianca looked at each other.
‘Hope the wedding turns out nice,’ Ruth said awkwardly.
‘It better or there will be blood in the streets!’
‘Will you have your friends there?’
‘No way,’ Bianca laughed.
‘Why not?’
‘Don’t have any.’
‘Really?’ Ruth was sceptical.
‘No one I could bring to the wedding.’
‘But you’re so … nice,’ Ruth said weakly.
‘Everyone at school thinks I’m a freak because I refuse to be on Facebook and don’t squeal about fashion and cute guys and worry about my thighs.’
Ruth nodded.
‘It’s been good talking to you, Ruth.’
‘You too,’ Ruth said shyly, then looked at her watch. Cindy would be coming to get her in five minutes.
‘So you’ll be on telly tonight.’
‘I guess. What do you think … I should do?’ Ruth asked desperately.
Bianca shrugged. ‘What do you want?’ she said eventually.
‘That’s it!’ Ruth wailed. ‘I don’t know what I want.’
‘So you go for a walk and … wait.’
‘Wait for what?’
‘Your heart … to tell you.’
‘A walk?’
‘That’s what I do when I’m all churned up inside and don’t know what to do.’ Bianca smiled. ‘But I have to go now. The lace and chiffon are calling. Bye, Ruth.’
‘Bye.’
Then she was gone.
* * *
Just go for a walk.
Ruth ran for the lift and stood there pressing the button frantically until it came. In the distance, she could see Cindy coming out of her door and waving goodbye to someone down the other end of the corridor.
‘Oh, Ruth, it’s time for dinner!’
Ruth’s heart began to beat hard. Spotted! Cindy was now walking towards her.
The lift doors opened and Ruth stepped in and pressed the button.
‘Ruth, honey!’ Cindy called sharply.
‘Don’t call me honey,’ Ruth whispered under her breath.
‘Ruth!’
But the lift doors slid shut and Ruth didn’t hear any more.
The lift hit the ground floor with a soft thud. Ruth rushed through the big plush lobby where people were sitting around in fancy clothes chatting over drinks, and almost threw herself at the glass doors leading out into the street. They slid open silently and at last she was outside. The cold air greeted her like a sharp smack in the face. That felt better. She stood at the top of the steps, breathing it in greedily. People were coming and going in groups and couples.
By this time next week they’d all know about where she lived. Ruth shuddered. All those stupid things she’d said in the interview! If only she could take it all back. The mouldy bathroom, the decrepit dog, her father’s bizarre shed and her mother’s terrible scones!
Oblivious to the noise, the crowds of people, the cars and trams, and with no clear idea where she was, Ruth walked quickly through the streets. When she turned a corner she could see the city skyline not far away, so she headed in that direction. Soon she was hurrying down the street with dinner-goers and film patrons, and families on their way to walk along the river. She flew in and out around people, then across roads onto the pavements, past hoardings, shops, cafés and churches, acting like she knew exactly where she was going … when she didn’t at all.
She was waiting for everything to become clear.
When she came to a big wide bridge, she slowed down and looked back at the tall lit-up city buildings and down at the web of pretty lights along the river. The lovely church just over the bridge, with its high pointy spire reaching right up into the pink-and-grey clouds, looked awesome. No one seemed to be noticing her much now. She stopped, leaning on the side of the bridge for a rest. The new watch, along with all her television clothes, was back in the hotel room, so Ruth had no idea of the time until she saw the town-hall clock.
Five minutes to six! Her old life was almost finished.
She walked over to the church and sat down on the steps. When she looked up, to her complete astonishment, she saw her own face on an enormous electronic billboard opposite. The words Will She Win? were scrolling across continuously under the image, along with news items about sports stars, the economy and celebrities – all of them underneath her face!
So this was it! Her new life. The show would go to air. Her family would be humiliated and Ruth would become a star. This is what she’d wished for.
Except it wasn’t. Not really.
In one sudden blast Ruth realised that she didn’t want it at all. She wanted a lot, but not this. In spite of … everything, she really did love her family. And she missed them! Impractical, loud, messy, what did it matter? She didn’t want to see them hurt or humiliated.
Ruth stood and ran down the steps and around the side of the building where she remembered seeing the red door earlier that day. She hesitated only a moment before giving the door a sharp jab, and shut her eyes.
It was amazing how much slid by in two seconds. She saw herself on television, winning the national championship. She saw herself with all her fantastic new clothes, and all that wonderful stuff, her face on billboards around the city.
It had been so exciting. And fun. Everyone would think she was crazy. But Bianca was right. Going with her heart was what felt good.
The red door swung open immediately and a swish of warm, dank air washed over her face. Ruth threw herself through the opening and plunged down into that dark space.
23
Ruth fell through a cloud of gritty air for what seemed like ages, but was probably only a minute, before landing heavily on the riverbank – this time on her back. Shaky and uncertain, she sat up and slowly looked around.
The pale sunshine had been replaced by long shadows, which meant it was late afternoon or early evening, and grey clouds were piled up along the horizon. Ruth smiled. She’d made it back in one piece.
She got up quickly, shook herself down a bit, then sat down on a nearby rock. Her skin was itchy inside her clothes and there was grime and cobwebs all over her coat, but she was filled with relief. What a day! So much had happened. Ruth looked over at the place where Howard had lain down to sleep. The note she’d left under the rock had gone. She walked to the bridge and stood resting her elbows on the railings and looking down into the water. What if he was still fishing nearby?
‘Howard!’ she called loudly. ‘Hey, Howard! You ready to go?’
She stood still, listening for a reply, and when there was none called again.
‘Howard! I want to go home.’
There was the far-off buzz of a chainsaw and the rustling of the leaves on the nearby trees, but no human sound at all apart from her own breath.
Ruth picked up her bag and positioned it on her back to begin the long walk into town. She didn’t blame Howard for leaving, but the trip home wasn’t going to be much fun.
She hadn’t got far when she heard a shout behind her.
‘Hey, Craze!’
Ruth turned around in surprise but couldn’t see anyone. Who else but Howard called her Craze? She walked back along the track towards the river and, sure enough, there was Howard running across the bridge towards her.
So he hadn’t piked on her! They’d be able to go home together.
‘Wait!’ he shouted. ‘You’re not going to believe this!’ He was holding something quite big high up in the air, yelling excitedly as he ran towards her. ‘Wait!’
‘I am waiting, Pope, you idiot!’
‘You are not going to believe this!’
�
��You caught a fish?’
‘Better!’
Ruth had never seen Howard run before, or sound so animated. He was across the bridge now and still running. Ruth finally saw what he was holding. No. This was too weird.
‘I found him, Craze!’ Howard rushed up to her. ‘See, I found him!’
He thrust a battered, dusty Rodney into her hands and then collapsed on the ground to catch his breath.
Ruth stared at the rat. One eye was missing and the other was hanging by a thread. His jacket was half rotted away and he’d lost both boots. His whole right side was covered in thick dry mud. Ruth couldn’t speak.
‘It is him, isn’t it?’ Howard asked, scrambling to his feet. ‘That’s your rat, right?’
‘Yeah, it’s him.’
‘I found him in a dry eddy upstream from the bridge,’ Howard explained. ‘I thought it was an old shirt or something and I didn’t take any notice of it until I was about to go home. Then, when I picked it up, well … I ran all the way back.’
‘Thanks.’ Ruth was still too confused to respond properly.
‘The poor little guy,’ Howard mumbled, scratching off a bit of mud from his boot, ‘no one’s taken care of him for a while.’ He looked up at her. ‘I told you we’d find him, didn’t I?’
‘You did, Howard.’ Ruth smiled at her pale, odd-looking friend and hugged his thin shoulders quickly and fiercely. ‘Thanks.’
Howard shrugged her off but his face had coloured with pleasure.
‘You going to take him home?’ he asked gruffly.
‘Of course I am.’ Ruth undid the strap of her bag and gently put Rodney inside.
* * *
The four-kilometre walk back from the bridge into town seemed much longer than the trip out. Only one car passed, without even slowing down. A number of times Ruth was on the verge of telling Howard about all that had happened to her that day, but it seemed too big somehow, a little too crazy.
By the time they reached the bus stop, Ruth’s feet were aching so much she thought there was a chance they might fall off. She and Howard were thirsty as well as hungry. Not to mention cold. They tried to joke as they waited for the bus, hopping up and down to keep their toes warm, but it was a long, chilly wait and the jokes petered out.
Careful What You Wish For Page 19