Tell It to the Moon

by Siobhan Curham

  “Yes, it is.” Mrs Bayliss peered over her glasses at her. “It may surprise you to learn this, Sky, but it’s hard enough to capture the attention of thirty teenagers at the best of times. If you all started phoning and texting during class we’d have no hope of teaching you a thing.”

  “But you weren’t…” Sky stopped herself. “I’m sorry. It won’t happen again.”

  “Good.” Mrs Bayliss handed her the phone.

  Sky shoved it into her blazer pocket.

  “It must be hard to come into a secondary school so late in the day.” Mrs Bayliss leaned back in her chair. “How are you coping?”

  “Yeah, it’s – I’m OK.”

  “Good. Well, if you need anything – any help with anything – do come and see me.” She looked genuinely concerned.

  “Thanks.” Sky wasn’t sure what to make of this latest development. Maybe Mrs Bayliss was feeling guilty for taking her phone.

  Once she was safely outside and off school property, she checked the phone for any new messages. There were a couple from Amber about meeting her in the library at first break. Nothing from Leon. But why would there be? He was waiting for her to contact him. She went to his number and pressed call.

  Amber let herself into the house and began trudging up the stairs.

  “Honey, you’re home!” Daniel burst through the kitchen door and greeted her with a massive hug. “Come here, we’ve got something to tell you.”

  Amber came into the kitchen. Gerald was standing by the counter, holding an envelope in his hand.

  “We thought you could do with a little cheering up,” he said, holding the envelope out to her.

  “So we got tickets to see The Picture of Dorian Gray at the Donmar tonight – starring Ralph Fiennes!” Daniel said, barely able to contain his excitement.

  “But I thought you said tickets were harder to find than a tax inspector’s heart.” Amber stared at Gerald. The play was only on for a limited run before it went to Broadway. Tickets had sold out within minutes.

  “They were,” Gerald said.

  “So how did you…?”

  “Your father used his powers of persuasion,” Daniel said with a grin.

  “My not too inconsiderable powers of persuasion,” Gerald said with a boastful grin. “Ralph and I go way back. I knew him when he still pronounced the L.”

  “This is – this is amazing!

  “And we’re having drinks at the Oscar Wilde Bar in the Hotel Café Royal beforehand,” Gerald said. “It’s where he fell in love with Lord Alfred Douglas.” He gave Amber a hefty slap on the back. “Did it work?” He looked at her anxiously. “Has it made you feel better?”

  Amber grinned. “Yes! It’s made me feel loads better! Thank you!”

  Maali sat cross-legged in the darkness in front of her shrine. The statues of Lakshmi and Kali stood side by side, illuminated by the flickering light of a candle she’d placed between them.

  “I need your help,” she whispered to the goddesses. “I need it more than ever before.”

  Rain pattered gently on the skylight above her and trickled down the glass like tears. Maybe even the gods were crying at this latest news. Maali was beyond crying, though. It was as if fear had frozen her tears in their ducts. Tomorrow afternoon, surgeons would be operating on her dad, attempting to remove the tumour from his brain. Her mum had tried to tell her that this was good news, that they would be removing the thing that was making him so sick. But there seemed to be so many “what ifs” attached to this promise. What if they aren’t able to remove it? What if they remove it but it comes back? And worst of all, the question Maali hardly dared ask: What if it’s cancerous?

  Maali continued staring at the goddesses. “Please,” she pleaded. “Please make it OK.”

  The rain pounded relentlessly on the skylight.

  Amber walked into her bedroom and switched on her desk lamp. Something had happened to her in the theatre tonight. Something profound. As she’d sat there in the darkness, watching Oscar’s words so powerfully brought to life by the cast, she’d felt inspired. And – although she’d been struggling with writer’s block for the past few weeks – she now knew without a shadow of a doubt that she was born to be a writer. That she was born to create magical new worlds with words. She didn’t need to know who her mum was to know that. Oscar’s gift with words had sparked a feeling of recognition and desire deep inside her. They always had. She’d just lost sight of that fact. She picked up her book of Oscar Wilde quotes.

  “How can I reignite my writing dream?” she whispered as she flicked to a random page and began to read. The quote she landed on was short but sweet.

  “When good Americans die they go to Paris.”

  Amber read it again. The words “go to Paris” echoed in her mind. Oscar Wilde had gone to Paris after his release from jail. He had died there. Amber thought back to her trip to Paris last year with her dads and the Moonlight Dreamers. Seeing Oscar’s grave had been a dream come true, but what if she visited some of the places he went to when he was alive? Would that inspire her to write again? It would certainly give her something interesting to write about. But how was she going to go to Paris? Who would she go with? Gerald had an exhibition in New York coming up. He and Daniel would be away this weekend. He and Daniel would be away this weekend! An idea began to form in Amber’s mind that filled her with nervous excitement. What if she went to Paris on her own? That’s what Oscar would do. It’s what he had done. And what better way for her to clear her head and get over the recent disappointments … and have something sensational to write about in her diary.

  Amber walked over to the window and looked outside. The rain was lashing down in sheets now, running in streams down the side of the road and pouring down the guttering. It seemed symbolic somehow, washing all of the grime away.

  Chapter Twenty-seven

  “Do you remember the time when you were little and you wouldn’t go to bed because you thought there was a monster outside your bedroom?” Maali’s dad asked her.

  Maali nodded. Any minute now the doctors would be coming to take her dad away, to operate on him. Don’t cry. Don’t cry. Don’t cry, she told herself, biting down on her bottom lip.

  “And you demanded I come up and kill it,” her dad continued. His cheeks looked even more sunken and his chin was now covered with a full beard, flecked with grey. He looked so old and frail, like he’d aged twenty years in a week.

  The operation will make him better again, Maali told herself.

  “But it turned out the monster was just the shadow from the coat-stand.” Her dad laughed feebly and took hold of her hand. His grip was weak and his fingers trembled against hers. “Do you remember what I said to you when I put you to bed that night?”

  Maali shook her head. Right now she couldn’t think of anything other than the fact that her dad was about to go for surgery.

  “I told you that so many of our fears are just shadows.”

  Maali gulped. Was he telling her not to be afraid? But his illness wasn’t a shadow. It was life-threatening and all too real.

  “I love you, pet,” he whispered.

  “I love you too.” Maali somehow managed to say the words without crying.

  “They’re coming,” her mum said. She jumped up from her seat and kissed Maali’s dad on the forehead.

  Maali turned to see a team of orderlies approaching.

  Fear swelled inside her. She wanted to jump in front of the bed and yell at them not to take him. Instead she sat numbly in her chair.

  One of the orderlies greeted them cheerily as if they were about to take her dad on a fun day out rather than for life-saving surgery.

  But what if it doesn’t save his life? Maali’s inner voice whispered. What if you never see him again? Maali clenched her fists so tightly her nails dug into her palms. Shut up! she told herself. Shut up.

  “See you soon,” her dad said, smiling at Maali and her mum. But there was fear in his eyes. Maali could see it.


  “I love you,” her mum said, stroking the side of his face.

  The orderlies unlocked the wheels on the bottom of the bed and began pushing it down the ward. Taking her dad away from them.

  “Come on,” her mum said, beckoning Maali to follow.

  They walked along behind the bed, out of the ward and over to the lift.

  “Don’t forget … just shadows,” Maali’s dad said, smiling.

  “I won’t,” Maali said, somehow summoning the strength to smile back.

  The bright strip-lights, the cheery orderly’s voice, the ping of the lift arriving, all blended into a haze. She heard her dad saying “see you later”. Then the lift doors closed and he was gone.

  Maali leaned against the wall, suddenly feeling faint. Her mum’s arms went around her, hugging her tight.

  “It’ll be OK, pet. He’ll be OK.”

  They slowly made their way to the drinks machine and sat down. Maali felt hollowed out by terror. What if her dad didn’t make it through the operation? What if she never saw him again?

  Sky put her phone face-down on her bed but the message Maali had sent earlier that afternoon remained etched behind her eyes.

  My dad is being operated on right now. I know you guys don’t believe in praying, but please could you keep him in your thoughts? I’m waiting at the hospital and I’m so scared. xxxxx

  Sky hadn’t set foot in a hospital since her mum died. Just the thought of it filled her with dread. In her experience, people went into hospital and they never came out. What if that happened to Maali? What if her dad’s tumour was cancerous? Sky looked around her cabin at the pile of school books on the floor, the pile of homework assignments that were threatening to swallow her whole, and she felt a tightening in her chest. Her phone vibrated and she looked at it, terrified. What if it was bad news from Maali? But it was Leon. She breathed a sigh of relief.

  Still on for this evening?

  She quickly began to type a reply. Going out with Leon was exactly what she needed – a distraction from all the stress.

  Yes absolutely!

  Great. I’ll meet you outside Borough station at 6. I’ll bring my firmest handshake.

  Sky put her phone down but almost immediately it pinged again. She smiled, thinking it would be Leon, but it was a WhatsApp message from Rose to her and Amber.

  Hey, Moonlight Dreamers, I take it you guys got Maali’s text? I was thinking we should maybe go up to the hospital to see her. Apparently her dad’s going to be in surgery for hours. What do you reckon? Xoxo

  Sky stared blankly at the message. Going to see Maali would mean going to a hospital. The notification on her phone went off again. This time it was a message from Amber.

  Great idea. I was just about to suggest the same. I can get there in an hour. Amber

  Sky felt horrible. She couldn’t set foot in a hospital, especially not in these circumstances. It would totally freak her out and that was the last thing Maali needed. Maali needed people like Amber and Rose, who would be strong for her and not dissolve into a quivering heap. But how could she get out of going? Sky stuffed her phone into her bag. She could pretend she hadn’t seen the message until it was too late to come. That way she wouldn’t have to go into the stuff about her mum. But she couldn’t pretend she hadn’t seen it – it was on WhatsApp – Rose would have seen that she’d already read it. Damn. Sky took her phone back out of her bag and sent a quick reply.

  I’m so sorry. Leon invited me to a radio interview he’s doing. I can’t get out of it. Send Maali my love and tell her I’ll call her later. xxx

  * * *

  Maali walked along the sterile hospital corridors, following the signs for the hospital chapel. Her mum was in the canteen getting a cup of coffee with Uncle Dev. Auntie Sita was at home with Namir. It had been almost two hours since the start of her dad’s surgery and Maali was beginning to go out of her mind with worry.

  The chapel was a small, plain room with a few rows of pine-wood pews. Maali liked the fact that it was simple and unadorned. There was a stillness about it, a softness to the lighting that made it a welcome refuge from the hustle and bustle of the hospital. She sat down at the end of one of the pews and closed her eyes. It didn’t matter that she wasn’t by her shrine or that she didn’t have her goddess statues to pray to – it had gone beyond that.

  “I don’t know if you can hear me,” she whispered to the simple wooden cross hanging on the far wall. “Or even if you actually exist. But I really hope you do because – well, right now, you’re all the hope I’ve got.” She took a deep breath and began saying a prayer over and over again. A prayer made up of just one word: “Please.”

  Maali wasn’t sure how long she sat there whispering “please” – it could have been minutes, it could have been an hour – but almost as soon as she began, she felt a stillness come over her. There was something calming about repeating one word over and over again; it helped bring her breathing back to normal. She felt her phone vibrate in her pocket and her heart skipped a beat. Surely it was too soon for news about her dad. Had something gone wrong? But the text was from Rose.

  Maals, I know you’re probably with your family right now but just wanted to let you know that if you need us, we’re right outside and we’re sending you so much love and support. xoxo

  Maali stared at the text in disbelief. The Moonlight Dreamers had come to the hospital. Just knowing they were there instantly filled her with strength. She closed her eyes and said another one-word prayer. This time it was “thank you”.

  Borough station was packed with grim-faced rush-hour commuters making their way home from work. Sky leaned against the wall next to the entrance, trying not to get trampled on. The anxiety that had threatened to engulf her in her cabin started bubbling again in her stomach. It was so noisy and everyone looked so angry. Sky clenched her fists. A police car zoomed past, lights blazing, siren shrieking, setting her teeth on edge. She shouldn’t be here. She should have stayed at the boat, tackling her homework mountain, especially when— She felt someone tap on her shoulder.

  “All right, Sky-Blue?” She turned and saw Leon smiling at her, his dark eyes warm and twinkly. Instantly her anxiety abated. He was wearing a beanie hat, thick fleece hoodie and baggy low-slung jeans. “Sorry I’m late.” He took hold of her hand and instantly she felt more grounded. “Come on, the radio station’s just down the road.”

  Rose looked up at the hospital, at the bright white light of the windows glowing in the dark. She wondered if Maali was behind one of those windows, waiting anxiously to hear about her dad. She turned to Amber.

  “Do you think Maals got my message?”

  Amber pulled up the collar on her man’s winter coat. “I don’t know. She might have had to switch her phone off.”

  Rose nodded. “Do you think it was a dumb idea coming here?”

  “No! Of course not. It feels good to be here – to be close to her – even if she doesn’t know we are.” Amber looked up at the hospital. “I can’t imagine what she must be going through.”

  Rose nodded. “I know. It really puts things into perspective.” She took her phone from her pocket and frowned. “I still haven’t heard back from Sky.” When Sky had messaged to say she was with Leon, Rose had tried calling her to get her to change her mind. Maali’s dad being so sick was the biggest crisis to have faced one of the Moonlight Dreamers; surely they should all be together at a time like this. But Rose’s call had gone straight to voicemail, as had her three attempts to call since. Sky must have switched off her phone.

  “I’m sure she’ll be here,” Amber said. “She’ll probably come straight from the radio thing.” She turned and looked around them. The hospital was situated on a large square lined on the other sides by huge Georgian townhouses. In the centre of the square was a communal garden. “Shall we go and wait over there? If we sit on the bench by the gate we’ll be able to see Maali if she comes out.”

  “Good plan.” Rose followed Amber. She wanted to beli
eve that Sky was on her way but she couldn’t help feeling that something was up; that she was deliberately ignoring her calls. Rose shook off the thought. There was no way Sky would choose to be with a guy over Maali – not at a time like this.

  Sky watched from the other side of the desk as Leon adjusted his headphones and leaned closer to the mic. His interview was about to start. The radio station was above a charity shop on Borough High Street. The entrance was a non-descript door on the side of the building. The only hint that there was a radio station there was a tiny printed card on the intercom that said Riverside FM. Apparently there were loads of independent radio stations like this hidden away throughout the city. Riverside specialized in broadcasting programmes about the arts and Leon had been invited to guest on a show called Spoken Word Heard. The interviewer was a West Indian guy called Nelson Prince who was wearing a faded Black Uhuru t-shirt and a string of large wooden beads.

  “Coming up next we have Leon Jackson, aka Rebel Writer,” Nelson boomed into his mic. “This young man has been causing quite a stir recently on the spoken word scene. And you’re in for a treat tonight, my friends, as he’s going to be telling us all about his work and performing a couple of pieces for us.”

  Leon looked at Sky and gave her a nervous smile. Sky smiled back but something felt off. Leon had brought her right to the beating heart of London’s underground arts scene. She should be feeling elated. But uncomfortable thoughts kept buzzing round her mind: Maali at the hospital. Maali waiting to find out how her dad’s operation had gone. The other Moonlight Dreamers there to support her. It felt wrong that Sky should be here, enjoying herself. But you wouldn’t have been any help, she reminded herself. You would have freaked out. Maali’s way better off without you there.

  “OK, Rebel Writer,” Nelson boomed. “Tell us all about yourself. How did you get started on your writing journey?”