The Shoestring Club

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The Shoestring Club Page 30

by Sarah Webb


  ‘Not really.’

  ‘What then? Family things?’

  ‘Did they like the dress?’ Pandora walks into the room, interrupting us.

  ‘Hello, this isn’t Grand Central Station,’ I say. ‘I’m still in my pyjamas. All we need is Dad now.’

  Pandora chuckles. ‘In fact I think he’s on his way up to give you breakfast in bed. Unless the full Irish he’s cooking is for Bird. It’s not for Iris, she’s at a soccer tournament. I hope her team wins this time, she was in a right snot after the last defeat.’

  I grab another pillow and put it behind my back. ‘Great. I think I’ll just stay here all day. Any chance one of you could bring the telly up?’

  Bird sniffs. ‘I don’t believe in watching television in bed, Julia. You know that. Rots the brain.’

  Pandora and I swap a look. She rolls her eyes and I giggle.

  Dad walks through the door, holding a tray. I get a waft of bacon and my mouth starts watering. ‘Thanks, Dad, I’m starving.’

  I wolf down the food while the others chat about Iris and her competitive streak.

  The atmosphere suddenly changes when Pandora says, ‘This reminds me of when Mum was sick. We all used to sit on her bed every evening, to keep her company while she tried to eat something. She called it “Schuster Time”.’

  Bird pats Pandora’s hand and nods. ‘That’s right. She loved having her family all around her. Jules used to show her little pictures she’d drawn at school and you brushed her hair, very gently.’

  Bird looks at Dad. ‘They were happy times, weren’t they, Greg?’

  Dad doesn’t respond, not even a nod.

  After a moment he says, ‘Finished, Jules?’

  ‘Yes, thanks,’ I say.

  He stands up and takes the tray away. He’s about to walk out of the room when I add, ‘Stay, Dad. I haven’t seen you all week.’

  He looks at me. His eyes are sad. ‘I need to wash up.’

  ‘Please, Dad?’

  He stands there, tray still in his hands.

  ‘Greg, come back and join us.’ Bird pats the bed beside her.

  He puts the tray on my dressing table and sits down.

  No one says anything for a second and it begins to feel awkward so I pipe up, ‘Anne’s nice.’

  ‘Who’s Anne, darling?’ Bird asks.

  ‘My counsellor. We talked about all kinds of things. I cried a lot of course, but she said that was normal, everyone bawls apparently, especially at the first session.’ My heart is thumping in my chest but I make myself continue. ‘She told me I should try talking to all of you, about my birthday and Mum dying and—’

  Dad stands up abruptly. ‘I’m sorry, I can’t do this. I’ll be downstairs if you need me.’

  ‘Sit down right now,’ Bird says firmly. ‘You’ve been running away from this for years, Greg. The girls need to be able to talk about Kirsten. And we need to listen. It’s our duty. So sit. Boolie’s trying to tell us something.’

  I look at Bird and there’s a softness in her eyes I’ve never seen before. ‘Go on, darling,’ she says to me.

  Pandora reaches over and holds my hand, her skin warm against mine. From the way her mouth is twisted, I can tell she’s biting her cheek, trying to stop herself crying.

  ‘Greg?’ Bird says, staring at him. ‘You want to hear what Boolie has to say, don’t you?’

  He nods and says, ‘Yes, of course,’ in a low voice, but he can’t meet my eyes.

  Pandora squeezes my hand gently. ‘Tell us, Boolie.’

  I start, my voice shaking with nerves. ‘I woke up early that day, nobody was awake. So I went into Mum. I knew I wasn’t supposed to, and I wouldn’t have woken her up or anything, but her eyes were open and I so wanted to talk to her. She told me all about her own ninth birthday. Then she said that she felt tired and that she wanted to go to heaven, it was time. And I told her if it would make her feel better, she could go. She sang me “Three Little Swallows” and afterwards her breathing went all funny.’

  I stop and blink back my tears. ‘Then . . . then . . . I hugged her and she . . . she . . .’ I’m crying so much I have to stop. After a few moments I add in a tiny voice, ‘I tired her out. It was my fault she died.’

  ‘Oh, Boolie,’ Pandora says, still holding my hand firmly. ‘No it wasn’t. She had cancer.’

  Tears are rolling down both Bird and Pandora’s faces but it’s Dad I’m worried about. I look at him. He’s hunched over, his face buried in his hands.

  ‘I’m so sorry Dad,’ I say. ‘I’m so sorry. You should have had more time with her.’

  He lifts his head. I expected sparks of anger or at the very least disappointment, but he looks distraught.

  ‘I’m the one who should be sorry,’ he says. ‘For years I’ve been beating myself up for not being there when Kirsten took her last breath, but towards the end I just couldn’t . . . I had to have some distance . . . it was all too much. I should have been there with her all the time. You and Pandora and Bird, you were the strong ones. I failed you all. Your mum loved you and Pandora with all her being. Towards the end she was really suffering, and I’ve worried so much that she was in pain when she went. You can’t begin to understand how happy I am that you were there with her. It’s like a weight being lifted off my shoulders. I’m so sorry it had to be you, pet, and on your birthday too. You gave your mum the most precious gift, your total and absolute love. And I can’t believe you’ve carried this all your life, alone. You’re the bravest of all of us, do you understand that? You’ve carried us all these years with your good humour and yes, your mad antics. I know your mum is still looking out for you both. And she must be so proud of you too.’

  Jamie and Anne were right. Dad isn’t angry with me and I didn’t ruin everything. Suddenly my heart feels as light and as free as a bird.

  ‘I know we were young,’ Pandora tells him. ‘But we did understand, Dad. Mum always said what you two had was true love. We knew you were sad because you loved her so much.’

  ‘Thank you,’ Dad whispers, giving Pandora a small smile.

  ‘And you certainly didn’t fail any of us, Greg,’ Bird says gently. ‘Pandora’s right, what you and Kirsten had was special, you were so close, like two peas in a pod. You couldn’t bear the thought of losing her, so you just shut down. But you’ve been an incredible father to the girls over the years, and I couldn’t have asked for a better son-in-law.’

  Dad nods, unable to say anything. Since the day Mum died he’s never shed a tear, but he’s certainly crying now. He wipes his eyes on his sleeve.

  ‘And all these years we thought we were minding you, Boolie,’ Bird says thoughtfully. ‘But in reality, you were minding us. Funny how life works out, isn’t it?’

  Bird leans forward, joins the group hug for a moment, then pulls away. ‘But we do have a business to run, my darlings. And much as I adore Klaudia she does rather scare the customers. I’ll pop in and hold the fort. And there’s no rush, girls. Spend some time with your dad first. See you all for family dinner this evening, yes?’ She stands up.

  ‘Yes, Bird!’ Pandora and I chorus as she leaves the room, and then we both collapse into giggles. I think it’s all the emotion, it always gets to us. Dad is seeing Bird out but has promised to come straight back up.

  Crying and laughing at the same time, I look at Pandora and she looks back at me.

  ‘Boolie?’ she says.

  ‘Yes, sis?’

  ‘I’m sorry I wasn’t with you. On your birthday. With mum.’

  ‘Me too,’ I say. ‘And I’m sorry I didn’t go and get you. I should have shared her with you.’

  ‘That’s OK. I don’t think I would have coped, seeing her die in front of my eyes, it would have upset me too much. There was a reason you were with Mum that morning, Boolie, and not me or Dad. Even Bird was in bits, Mum was her baby. Dad’s right, you’re stronger than any of us, you were meant to be there. And I’m sorry I haven’t always been a good sister to you.’


  ‘Are you kidding?’ I say, genuinely taken aback. ‘You’ve always been extraordinary.’ I smile. ‘Bossy, yes, but extraordinary. And I’m sorry for pushing you away for so many years. It was my loss, I see that now.’

  She smiles back at me, her eyes glittering with tears. ‘Does that mean we’re friends now?’

  I nod firmly. ‘Of course we’re friends, best friends, you’re my sister.’

  She hugs me and we stay like that for a long, long time.

  Epilogue

  Two Weeks Later

  ‘A rabbit?’ Arietty says. ‘Pandora has a rabbit?’

  I grin. ‘It was Declan’s idea. He said Iris needed a pet. Went off and bought a hutch with them and everything. Iris called him Fluffy and he’s gorgeous, but Pandora’s still not convinced. Keeps going on about having to clean up the poos.’

  ‘At least they’re only small. The poos, I mean. And you mentioned Jamie. Why’s he coming to our handover dinner? He hardly wants to borrow the dress. Hang on, he’s not one of those cross-dressers is he?’ She stares at me, eyes wide.

  ‘How would I know?’

  Her mouth flickers at the edges.

  ‘What?’ I demand.

  ‘Oh come on, you must admit you have been spending rather a lot of time together. And I’m not blind.’

  I can feel my cheeks pinking up so I pick up the menu and start studying it. ‘He’s not eating with us, he’s just dropping in for a second. And we’re just friends.’

  ‘Do you snog all your friends?’

  ‘It’s not like that.’

  She grins. ‘It’s written all over your face. I knew it. Ha! That’s brilliant news.’

  I put the menu down. ‘OK, fine, I’m kissing Jamie. I didn’t want to say anything until I knew it was serious.’

  ‘So it’s serious?’

  ‘No! Serious is the wrong word. Look, we’re together, all right. Now stop interrogating me, you’re as bad as Pandora.’

  ‘You two look very cosy.’ Just then Pandora slides along the seat towards me and kisses me on the cheek. ‘And what were you saying about me?’

  Arietty launches straight in. ‘Jules is snogging Jamie and she says it’s serious.’

  Pandora looks smug. ‘I know. Jamie told Daphne who told Bird who told me.’

  ‘I hate being the last to know.’ Arietty crosses her arms huffily.

  ‘I even told your elephants last week,’ I say. ‘And they’re obviously better at keeping secrets than Jamie Clear.’

  Arietty sticks her tongue out at me and I laugh.

  ‘Speaking of which,’ I add, ‘he’ll be here any second.’

  ‘You never answered my question,’ Arietty says. ‘Why’s he coming?’

  I smile at her. ‘He’s been at his old tricks again. Found some sort of Google Earth camera outside Wicklow post office and to cut a long story short, he has a video clip of Alex he wants to show us.’

  ‘How do you know it’s Alex?’

  ‘He’s carrying a large cardboard box covered with Shoestring bags. I wrapped and posted it myself.’

  ‘Hang on a second, did you just say he?’ Pandora says. ‘Is Alex a boy?’

  I smile. ‘There’s been a slight twist in The Shoestring Club tale . . .’

  Acknowledgements

  This book would never have made it to publication without the Trojan efforts of Peta Nightingale, my agent, and Thalia Suzuma, my editor, who both showed endless reserves of patience and empathy. Thank you both so much. Thanks also to Trisha Jackson for her support.

  Thanks must also go to my family: Mum, Dad, Kate, Emma, Richard. And my own gang at home – Ben, Sam, Amy and Jago.

  Martina Devlin, my writer in crime, must get a special mention for always being at the end of the phone when I need her advice (or just a chat).

  To my friends Tanya, Nicky and Andrew, and to my dear friends in writing, especially Clare Dowling, Martina Reilly, Marita Conlon McKenna, Judi Curtin and Vanessa O’Loughlin, Ms Inkwell herself, thank you.

  Alice Cooper, one of the Elephant Keepers at Dublin Zoo, kindly introduced me to the Asian elephants in her care, for which I’m supremely grateful. Any elephant-related mistakes are of course my own. And Stock Exchange in Dun Laoghaire, one of my favourite places to shop, gave me lots of designer swap shop inspiration.

  The lovely David Adamson and Cormac Kinsella, my Pan Macmillan team in Ireland make touring the bookshops such a treat. And huge thanks to all the booksellers who continue to support my books, especially the gang in Eason and Dubray.

  And finally to you, the reader. This is book ten – ten, imagine! Many of you have been with me throughout my writing journey and I thank you from the bottom of my heart. Here’s to another ten!

  Much love,

  Sarah XXX

  P.S. Do write to me – [email protected] – I love hearing from readers. Or you can catch me on Facebook: www.facebook.com/sarahwebbauthor or Twitter: @sarahwebbishere

  And if you have young teens or tweens in the house, check out my Amy Green series – see www.askamygreen.com for details

  If you enjoyed The Shoestring Club, and want to find out how the story continues, we have an exclusive preview of the first two chapters of the sequel: The Memory Box.

  Go to www.panmacmillan.com/thememorybox

  to read on!

  The Memory Box

  Pandora Schuster is about to turn thirty, but that’s the least of her worries. She’s just been tested for the same hereditary cancer gene that took her mum, but she won’t find out the results for six long, agonizing weeks. She tells no one about the test, not even her sister, Jules, or her boyfriend, Declan. Expecting the worst, she’s desperate to track down her ex-boyfriend, Olivier Huppert, father of her nine-year-old daughter, Iris. But there are two major problems:

  a) Olivier lives in Paris

  b) He has no idea that Iris even exists

  So Pandora organizes a thirtieth birthday weekend with Jules and two friends – in Paris – to find Olivier and to tell him about Iris, but the trip doesn’t exactly go as planned. Back in Dublin, Declan is about to pop the question. Pandora’s head says ‘Marry him,’ but something or someone from her past is holding her back. And Pandora must decide which to follow, her head or her heart.

  THE SHOESTRING CLUB

  Sarah Webb worked as a children’s bookseller for many years before becoming a full-time writer. Writing is her dream job as she can travel, read magazines and books, watch movies, and quiz her friends and family – all in the name of research.

  She is the author of nine novels, the most recent being Any thing for Love and The Loving Kind. She also writes the Ask Amy Green series for young teenagers, and her books have been published in many different countries including Italy, Poland, Indonesia and the United States. Sarah lives in Dublin with her partner and young family.

  Find out more and read Sarah’s Yours in Writing blog at www.sarahwebb.ie

  Or connect with Sarah on Facebook:

  www.facebook.com/sarahwebbauthor

  or Twitter: @sarahwebbishere

  Praise for Sarah Webb

  ‘Sarah Webb is just getting better and better with every book’

  Woman’s Way

  ‘A wonderfully enjoyable read – no wonder

  Irish eyes are smiling’

  Heat Magazine

  ‘Lively dialogue, strong female characters with whom readers can happily identify’

  Irish Times

  Also by Sarah Webb

  The Loving Kind

  Anything for Love

  When the Boys are Away

  Take a Chance

  It Had to Be You

  Three Times a Lady

  Some Kind of Wonderful

  Something to Talk About

  Always the Bridesmaid

  As Editor

  Travelling Light

  Mum’s the Word

  For children – Ask Amy Green series

  Ask Amy Green: Teen Agony Queen: Boy Trouble
<
br />   Ask Amy Green: Teen Agony Queen: Summer Secrets

  Ask Amy Green: Bridesmaid Blitz

  Ask Amy Green: Love and Other Drama-ramas

  First published 2012 by Pan Books

  This electronic edition published 2012 by Pan Books

  an imprint of Pan Macmillan, a division of Macmillan Publishers Limited

  Pan Macmillan, 20 New Wharf Road, London N1 9RR

  Basingstoke and Oxford

  Associated companies throughout the world

  www.panmacmillan.com

  ISBN 978-0-330-51944-1 EPUB

  Copyright © Sarah Webb 2012

  The right of Sarah Webb to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted by her in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.

  The Macmillan Group has no responsibility for the information provided by any author websites whose address you obtain from this book (‘author websites’). The inclusion of author website addresses in this book does not constitute an endorsement by or association with us of such sites or the contents, products, advertising or other materials presented on such sites.

  You may not copy, store, distribute, transmit, reproduce or otherwise make available this publication (or any part of it) in any form, or by any means (electronic, digital, optical, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise), without the prior written permission of the publisher. Any person who does any unauthorized act in relation to this publication may be liable to criminal prosecution and civil claims for damages.

  A CIP catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.

  Visit www.panmacmillan.com to read more about all our books and to buy them. You will also find features, author interviews and news of any author events, and you can sign up for e-newsletters so that you’re always first to hear about our new releases.

  Table of Contents

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

 

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