Stand by Me

by Judi Curtin

  ‘What had happened to him?’ asked Mum.

  ‘That’s the strange thing – as far as the family knew, nothing at all had happened.’

  ‘And what did Graham say about it?’ asked Beth.

  ‘I’m not sure anyone asked him,’ said Jim. ‘Things were different back then. It would’ve been … the late 1950’s or … actually I remember now – my dad said it was 1960 – his last year in London. People didn’t talk about their feelings in those days – there was lots left unsaid. I think people thought that if they didn’t talk about their problems they might magically disappear.’

  ‘As if that was a good strategy for mental health!’ said Mum.

  ‘And what happened after that?’ I asked.

  ‘Well, nothing really,’ said Jim. ‘Next time my dad came home, Graham seemed to have snapped out of it. He might not have been exactly back to normal, but he didn’t seem quite as sad as before, and, well you know how it is – life goes on.’

  ‘You all know I’m very fond of Graham,’ said Mum. ‘But if you ask me, there’s something strange about a man who travels abroad as much as he does.’

  ‘Muuum!’ I said. ‘That’s so stupid. I’d go on holidays every single day if I could. I’d go to Africa and Australia and—’

  I know you would,’ said Mum smiling. ‘But Graham’s a grown-up and grown-ups don’t do things like that. It’s almost like Graham’s running away.’

  ‘Running away from what?’ I asked.

  ‘You mean like a murder or something?’ asked Beth, giggling.

  I giggled too. ‘Graham wouldn’t hurt a fly – literally,’ I said. ‘He so wasn’t happy when I tried to kill one with a newspaper last summer.’

  ‘And he saved those poor ducks from being knocked down,’ said Beth.

  ‘And remember when there was a mouse in his kitchen last winter?’ I said. ‘Graham gave it a big lump of cheese and then set it free in the garden.’

  Everyone laughed.

  ‘You know perfectly well I didn’t mean that Graham committed a crime,’ said Mum. ‘It’s more like there’s something he can’t face up to. It’s as if trekking halfway across the world is easier for him than dealing with stuff that’s going on in his head.’

  ‘That’s interesting,’ I said. ‘And maybe it’s true – but it still doesn’t explain why the walls of Graham’s house are completely bare.’

  ‘It’s a mystery, all right,’ said Mum.

  ‘And some mysteries will never be solved,’ said Jim. ‘Like the mystery of who here is ready for a chocolate brownie?’

  Jim’s jokes are usually pretty lame, but his brownies are amazing, so I resisted rolling my eyes, and raced Beth to the fridge to get out the dessert.

  Chapter Four

  ‘We’ve got so much homework,’ I wailed, as we walked slowly home from school a few days later. ‘It’s child cruelty. There should be a law against it.’

  ‘You’re such a drama queen,’ said Beth.

  ‘You sound like my mother.’

  She made a face. ‘I hope you’re joking. I love your mum – but I so don’t want to be her. Anyway, maybe you don’t have to face your homework this very minute. Let’s call to Graham’s place and see if he’s started planning his next trip yet.’

  Visiting Graham sounded like a whole lot more fun than studying for a geography test, so I texted Mum to tell her we’d be late, and then walked a bit faster, ready to be entertained by our old friend.

  * * *

  ‘My two favourite girls in the whole world! Do come in and tell me about your day.’

  Graham was smiling as usual, but as Beth and I followed him into the living room, I knew something was different. It was like his smile was fake and forced – as if really he was crying inside. I looked at Beth and I could see by her face that she felt it too.

  I’d been hoping for one of his delicious blooming teas, but Graham didn’t even glance towards the kitchen. He sat on one of the wobbly stools and looked really miserable. For the first time ever, he looked like an old man.

  On the table beside him was an open letter, and next to that was an old photo album.

  What was going on? I felt shy and embarrassed. Graham always cheers us up and makes us laugh – and I had no idea what to say to this new, quiet man.

  ‘Er … Are you OK, Graham?’ asked Beth.

  ‘Why wouldn’t I be OK?’ He wasn’t answering her question, which is never a good sign.

  ‘You just seem a bit … sad,’ said Beth.

  ‘Oh, I’ll be fine,’ said Graham. ‘Don’t you worry about me. Now, any news from your lovely world?’

  ‘Well, our teacher’s a crazy work-fiend and she’s given us tons of homework and …’

  But then I stopped myself. I remembered what Jim had said about people long ago bottling up their problems. ‘Er … Beth and I are good listeners,’ I said.

  ‘And?’ Graham looked at me, and I couldn’t tell if he was angry. Did he think I was just some nosy kid trying to push my way into his private business?

  I looked desperately at Beth, hoping she could help me. Instead she picked up the photo album and opened it. On the first page there was a big old black and white photo of a boy and a girl – both aged about twelve or thirteen. They were sitting on a rug, having a picnic, with proper plates and cutlery, and very fancy looking sandwiches.

  ‘Who’s this?’ she asked.

  For a long time, Graham didn’t say anything – and it was totally awkward.

  Then he shook his head, and it was like he’d made a big decision.

  ‘That’s me,’ he said, pointing at the boy.

  I forgot about the awkwardness of the moment, as I struggled to see Graham in the picture of the boy with the slicked-back hair and the cheeky grin. Then I suddenly got it, as I looked at the huge dark eyes.

  ‘OMG!’ I said. ‘It really is you. You’re adorable, Graham. The girls must have loved you.’

  ‘They still do, actually,’ he said. ‘I’m not quite past it yet.’ For a second he looked normal and happy, before his smile faded away again.

  Then Beth pointed at the girl, who was also grinning madly. She had curly hair, and a huge spotty bow on the top of her head. She had pointy-edged glasses that looked like she was wearing them for a bet. She looked cheeky and fun – the kind of girl you’d want to be friends with.

  ‘And who’s this girl?’ asked Beth.

  This time the silence dragged on and on and on until it was almost unbearable. I could hear the ticking of Graham’s old watch, and the sound of kids playing outside. I started to wish I was at home studying my geography, or emptying the dishwasher or doing something totally fun like that.

  And then Graham leaned over the photograph. He touched the picture, like it was the most precious thing he had ever owned.

  ‘That,’ he said. ‘Is Jeanie Cottrell-Herbert.’

  ‘Oooh, sounds posh,’ I said.

  ‘Jeanie’s family was undoubtedly posh,’ said Graham. ‘And I’m sad to say her parents didn’t like me at all.’

  ‘Why?’ I asked, feeling mad for him. How could anyone not like Graham? He’s a total sweetheart.

  ‘Oh, I don’t think it was me exactly that they objected to – it was more that I wasn’t the son of one of their posh friends. They thought I was too rough for their precious girl – but Jeanie didn’t care about things like that. She was just very sweet. That girl had a laugh that could make the birds sing – when she laughed, you wanted to join in with her, no matter how bad you were feeling.’

  ‘OMG!’ said Beth. ‘Now I get it. Jeanie was your first girlfriend, wasn’t she?’

  ‘No, no, it was nothing like that,’ said Graham. ‘We were young and innocent. We simply spent lots of time together – whole summers long.’

  ‘Doing what?’ asked Beth who clearly wasn’t convinced by the whole ‘just friends’ thing.

  ‘Well, one year we danced a lot,’ said Graham.

  ‘Danced?’ I said. ‘You me
an like ballroom dancing or something?’

  ‘No,’ he said. ‘I’m not quite that ancient, you know. It was 1960 – pop music had just been born.’

  OMG, 1960, wasn’t that the year that Jim said Graham began acting strangely?

  Beth musn’t have noticed. ‘Did you love The Beatles back then?’ she asked.

  ‘No,’ said Graham again. ‘The Beatles may well have existed, but we’d never heard of them back then. In 1960 our favourite was a guy called Chubby Checker.’

  ‘That’s someone’s name?’ said Beth as the two of us fell around laughing.

  ‘Seriously?’ I said.

  ‘I’ve never been more serious in my life,’ said Graham. ‘Chubby Checker was a huge star back in the day.’

  ‘I guess you and Jeanie listened to his songs on your phones?’ I said.

  ‘Very funny,’ said Graham. ‘Actually, Jeanie’s parents had a record player – which was a big deal in 1960. Jeanie saved up and bought Chubby’s latest record, ‘The Twist’. I didn’t feel welcome in Jeanie’s house so she’d run inside and put the record on. Then she’d open all the windows, run back outside to the garden, and the two of us would dance as the record played over and over. It was fun until …’

  ‘Until what?’ I asked.

  ‘Until Jeanie’s parents saw us dancing.’

  ‘Was dancing a crime, back in the day?’ asked Beth.

  ‘Well, it wasn’t exactly a crime, but some people considered the twist to be a bit indecent – many older people disapproved, and Jeanie’s parents – well let’s just say they weren’t the most progressive people in the world.’

  ‘So what happened then?’ I asked.

  ‘One day Jeanie’s dad took the record from the record player and snapped it over his knee – and that was the end of ‘The Twist’ for Jeanie and me. Nowadays, when I see pop videos, I smile at the innocence of how things used to be.’

  ‘So when you couldn’t dance any more, how did you spend your time?’ asked Beth.

  ‘We did simple things like collecting blackberries and bird-watching. Jeanie was a gifted artist, and she drew pictures of every bird we saw.’

  ‘What else did you do?’ I asked, wondering if anything was actually fun in the olden days.

  ‘Oh, you know. Reading, swimming in the river, running in the fields, climbing …’ Graham had started to smile, but suddenly it was like all the old memories were too much for him. His smile vanished, and he almost looked ready to cry.

  ‘Jeanie was the best friend I’ve ever had,’ he said.

  ‘She looks nice,’ I said. ‘How come we’ve never heard of her before? Do you still hang out with her?’

  ‘Jeanie moved away from here a very long time ago,’ he said, ‘The last time I saw her was best part of sixty years ago, and now …’

  Then he closed the photo album, and jumped up. ‘Don’t think it rude of me, girls, but I think this little chat about the olden days is over. Now, who’s for a nice cup of blooming tea?’

  * * *

  Half an hour later, after two cups of tea and lots of chat about nothing much, Beth and I said goodbye to Graham and headed home. Neither of us said anything while we walked. I had no idea what was going on in Beth’s head, but I was dealing with a serious guilt trip.

  Then, when we got to our front gate, I put my hand on Beth’s arm. ‘Hang on a sec’, I said. ‘Before we go inside, there’s something I need to tell you.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘I did something pretty bad back in Graham’s house.’

  I didn’t get why Beth looked relieved, but I kept talking anyway. ‘Remember when Graham was in the kitchen making the tea, and you went up to the toilet?’ She nodded, and I continued. ‘Well – while you were gone I … I know it was really rude and everything, but I had a look at the letter Graham had left on the living-room table – and you’ll never guess who was mentioned in it?’

  ‘I don’t have to guess,’ said Beth. ‘Because when you went in to the kitchen to ask Graham for a tissue, I looked at the letter too.’

  For a second we both laughed – a guilty kind of laugh, like when you do something bad, but then don’t feel quite so rotten when you hear that you’re not the only one.

  ‘I only did it because …’ we both said the words together.

  ‘I only looked at the letter because I felt sorry for Graham,’ I said. ‘I wouldn’t have touched it otherwise.’

  ‘Same,’ she said. ‘I was hoping that something in the letter might help us understand why Graham is so sad today.’

  ‘Do you know who Jessica is – the woman who wrote the letter?’ I asked.

  ‘Yeah – Dad’s talked about her before. She’s a distant relation who lives in England now. She’s famous for writing endless boring letters to all her long-lost cousins.’

  ‘You’re right about boring,’ I said. ‘The first page of that letter was the most pathetic thing I’ve ever read. Who wants to know how many stitches Jessica’s nextdoor neighbour got in her leg after she tripped over her cat?’

  ‘I wouldn’t mind knowing what happened to the poor cat, though.’

  ‘And the second page of the letter wasn’t great either,’ I said, laughing. ‘Sometimes you can have too much information about someone’s tummy bug.’

  ‘Hey, Moll,’ said Beth then. ‘I’m guessing you saw the PS? I don’t suppose you managed to read all of it? I wanted to, but you came back before I had time to turn over the page.’

  I closed my eyes and I could still see the words scribbled in at the end of the fifth page. ‘Oh, and by the way, Graham, I met someone who had news of that posh girl, Jeanie Cottrell-Herbert. You were friends with her once upon a time weren’t you? Anyway she …’

  I shook my head. ‘No,’ I said. ‘I didn’t see the end of the PS either. I was just getting ready to turn over the page when Graham came back into the room.’

  ‘We’re not very good spies, are we?’ said Beth. ‘I wonder what the PS said. I wonder what Jessica was going to say about Jeanie.’

  ‘Maybe Jeanie’s coming to live around here again? That’d be so cool. We could try to get Graham and Jeanie together, and it would be totally romantic – like something in one of those soppy movies my mum loves.’

  ‘But Graham seemed so sad today – and he wouldn’t be sad if Jeanie was coming back, would he?’

  ‘I guess you’re right. It has to be something else.’

  ‘Like what?’

  ‘I know,’ I said. ‘Maybe Graham had a secret plan to track Jeanie down and ask her out on a date, and Jessica’s PS was telling him that she’s married to someone else?’

  ‘Poor Graham,’ said Beth. ‘That’d be awful. Or maybe Jeanie waited for him until recently, and now Jessica was telling him that last year she gave up on him and became a nun.’

  ‘Whatever it is, something in that letter has made Graham sad – and it makes me sad even thinking about it.’

  ‘There’s one weird thing though – if Graham and Jeanie were best friends back in the day, how come they haven’t seen each other for nearly sixty years? That would never happen to you and me. I don’t care where you go – I’ll always track you down and make you be my friend.’

  ‘Same,’ I said. ‘And since Graham doesn’t mind travelling to the ends of the earth to visit people he met for five minutes at a craft fair, how come he never went to see his best friend – no matter what part of the world she ended up in?’

  ‘Maybe boys and girls weren’t supposed to be friends back then? Or maybe Jeanie’s parents banned her from seeing Graham because he wasn’t posh enough?’

  ‘But you heard him – Jeanie’s parents didn’t like him, but still they managed to be friends. What could have happened to change that? It doesn’t make any sense.’

  ‘Maybe it’s got something to do with what my dad said about that time Graham started to act strangely?

  ‘OMG!’ I said, remembering, ‘The year Graham and Jeanie danced together was 1960. Something terr
ible must have happened that summer. But what could it be?’

  ‘It’s another mystery,’ said Beth. ‘A mystery I’d really, really like to solve.’

  Chapter Five

  ‘You two girls are very interested in the computer tonight,’ said Mum. ‘Is that part of your homework?’

  ‘We’ve done all our homework, Charlotte,’ said Beth with one of her super-sweet smiles. ‘Molly and I are doing some er … historical research.’

  ‘Oh, that’s fine,’ said Mum, heading back to the kitchen. ‘Work away.’

  Even though Beth is my very best friend in the whole world, sometimes I feel like thumping her. If I’d made up that stupid excuse about historical research, Mum would have been all over me until she’d figured out the truth. It so isn’t fair that Mum’s always on my case, but she never gives Beth a hard time about anything.

  ‘It is history – kind of,’ said Beth, almost as if she could read my mind. ‘Anyway, your mum’s gone, so go ahead and try Instagram.’

  I did what she suggested, but once again we couldn’t find any trace of Jeanie Cottrell-Herbert.

  ‘I don’t get it,’ said Beth. ‘Why can’t we find her? It’s almost like she never existed.’

  ‘Let’s try Facebook,’ I said. ‘Where all the sad oldies like our parents hang out.’

  But even before I hit the search button, I knew Jeanie wasn’t going to show up.

  ‘This is crazy,’ said Beth. ‘We’ve tried every place we know. If I hadn’t seen the photo with my own eyes, I’d have guessed that Graham made this girl up.’

  ‘Hang on a sec – there’s one place we haven’t looked – my mum’s favourite site.’

  I checked over my shoulder making sure that Mum hadn’t come back into the room. I’m forever laughing at her for reading the death notices – she’d never let me forget it if she saw me doing the same.

  It didn’t take long to find it – the announcement of the death of Graham’s best friend.