by Maria Grace
‘Em!’ Megan was staring at me, waiting for a proper answer. ‘What’s going on with you?’
My stomach did a somersault.
I looked back at Megan, and my nerves tingled right through my body.
‘I really don’t know,’ was all I could manage to say.
NINETEEN
‘GIRLS! THAT’S ENOUGH!’ Gladys Friday waved her hands frantically.
‘Keep out of it, Gladys Friday.’ Karra laid the tables with a grin on her face. ‘It’s their beef – leave them sort it out, yeah?’
‘I CAN’T, KARRA! They’ll end up killing each other! I’m calling Jim.’ Gladys Friday looked around for Big Jim. Her hands were on top of her head, holding little clumps of hair in them.
‘Well, technically,’ Karra said, ‘only one of them will end up dead, because they can’t kill each other at the same time, can they?’
‘JIM! WHERE ARE YOU? JIIIIIIIIIIMMMMM!’ Gladys Friday screamed down the hallway.
Karra watched the girls carefully, her tongue poking the side of her mouth in concentration. ‘If I had to bet on which one would end up dead, I reckon it’d be Quinn.’
Quinn and Bett were rolling around on the floor. Bett was on top of Quinn, with one hand on each side of Quinn’s head, shaking it up and down. Quinn had her hand gripped to Bett’s face, her fingers stuck into it like a big bowling ball that she refused to let go of. They were making the most peculiar noises I’d ever heard.
BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! The sound of Big Jim running through the corridors echoed right through the room. Everyone jumped out of the way as the giant man skidded across the floor and grabbed each girl with one hand, holding them up like coats on a hanger.
‘YOU’RE LUCKY, BETTY MORRIS!’ Quinn tried to wriggle free. ‘IF BIG JIM WASN’T HERE, I’D WRECK YOU!’
‘YOU’RE THE LUCKY ONE, QUINN DAVIES!’ Bett pointed at Quinn, swinging around in Big Jim’s hand.
Big Jim roared with laughter. ‘HARR! HARR! HAAARRR!’ He threw his head back. ‘You kids make my day, you really do! Such energy in you all! Such spirit! It’s buuuriful to see!’ He grabbed them both into his chest and hugged them tightly, almost crushing their faces.
Karra put the plates on the tables, ready for teatime.
‘Do you need any help, Karra?’ I asked.
‘Aye, go on then.’ She passed me some cutlery. ‘How is your nose now?’
‘Not too bad,’ I said.
‘Only you could bump into a door, Em.’ Karra shook her head, amused.
Yes, I’d lied about my nose. I was too embarrassed to tell the truth. It was easier to let people think I was a fool who bumped into doors than a coward who couldn’t stick up for herself.
I thought about everything that had happened with Stacey Lock. I still couldn’t process it all. This morning, I’d been so annoyed that she’d tripped me up outside the class. Then this afternoon, when she banged the locker into my nose, I got wound up again. I tried to forget about it through lunchtime, but the more Megan had talked about it, the more frustrated I became.
All day, I’d had this kind of pulsing energy surging through me, like I was about to explode. When we were in English class, the energy was so much stronger than I’d felt before. My ear had started ringing, and then … I’d read her mind.
I thought back to that last year of junior school when I used to get that running commentary going through my head when Stacey spoke. It was so long ago that I’d convinced myself it was just my imagination. So much had happened since then. Dad died. Nana Rose died. Mum lost the plot. Wales lost the rugby. We’d been in secondary school for three years now, and I hadn’t experienced anything like it since. But then today… It was like that last year of junior school all over again.
It felt as if everything that happened throughout the day had all built up to that moment in English. But what did it mean? Was it real? Or was I imagining it? What if it was all in my head? What if I was mad? What if I was like Mum?
‘Em!’ Karra clicked her fingers.
I jumped, startled. ‘Sorry. I was in a world of my own.’
‘I can see.’ She looked irritated. ‘Not being funny, Em, but why don’t you go and get changed or something? You’re holding me up here. I want to get these tables done before Lucas rings. I’m supposed to be going out with him tonight.’
We always had fish and chips on a Friday. It was usually Karra’s favourite meal, but today she just pushed her food around the plate.
‘What’s the matter with you, Karra?’ asked Gladys Friday. ‘Why are you in such a strop again?’
‘Her jizz-bag of a boyfriend hasn’t phoned like he promised,’ Quinn said.
Little Charlie laughed at Quinn’s expression.
‘Is something funny, girls?’ Karra gave them the evil eye.
Gladys Friday sighed. ‘I know it’s not nice, Karra. But try not to look so miserable. I’ve noticed you getting a bit moody, lately. If that boyfriend of yours is giving you grief, maybe you should finish with him. I’m sure there are plenty of other lads out there who would love to go out with you. Like our Beano over there.’
We all laughed at Beano and Karra’s disgusted faces.
‘Like I’d ever go out with that,’ Karra said.
‘Oi!’ Beano shouted across the tables. ‘In your dreams, Karra! You know you would.’
‘As if, Beano!’ Karra laughed.
Beano winked at her and smiled.
As I ate my fish and chips, I thought again about Stacey Lock. What an odd day. How could I hear Stacey like that?
Could I really be hearing her thoughts? Or maybe I was just losing the plot. Mental illness ran in my family, after all. So what was this? Mental illness or something else? How was I supposed to tell?
It was all exhausting. I decided I would talk to Karra about what was happening at school. She would help me. I wouldn’t mention that I was ‘hearing voices’. Just saying the words sounded ridiculous! People would think I was crazy. No, I would keep that bit to myself, but I would tell her about the bullying. If there was anyone that could sort out Stacey Lock, it was Karra.
Gladys Friday was telling off Quinn and Bett, because they were giving each other stinkers across the tables.
‘But Gladys!’ Quinn protested. ‘It’s not me, it’s her! She keeps staring at me all the time. She’s winding me up!’
‘It takes two to play eye-tennis, Quinn. You’re both as bad as each other.’ Gladys Friday pointed at the two girls.
Bett looked angry. ‘Her name is Gladys Friday.’
‘No, Bett,’ argued Quinn. ‘Her name is Gladys. You’re the only one who insists on calling everyone by their full names. The rest of us are normal.’
‘Shut up, Quinn Davies. I am normal!’ Bett scowled.
‘YOU shut up, Betty Morris. Or I’ll break your face.’ Quinn slammed her hands down on the table.
Gladys Friday started shouting something about not getting paid enough for this, and Karra sat with her face in her hands, shaking her head.
Quinn looked in Bett’s direction. Her eyes blinked with shock, her mouth set in the shape of an outraged O.
I turned to Bett, who was sitting with her knife raised in the air, pointing it towards Quinn. She was silently mouthing the words, ‘I. WILL. END. YOU.’
‘She’s threatening to kill me!’ Quinn shouted.
Gladys Friday turned around just in time to catch Bett in the act.
‘BETT!’ She stood with her hands on her hips. ‘What have I told you about threatening to kill Quinn?’
Bett looked down, ashamed that she had disappointed her cherished key worker.
Quinn stomped over to the ‘WHAT IS CHILD ABUSE?’ poster, and pointed to one of the illustrations. ‘Gladys Friday, please take this as my official warning. If you don’t report Betty Morris, then I will have to report you for child abuse.’
Gladys Friday looked like she was going to explode. ‘WHAT?’ she shouted. ‘What do you mean, child abuse? What have I done wron
g?’
‘You’re not listening to me,’ said Quinn. ‘That girl is threatening to endanger my life, and you’re not doing anything about it. That means you are “not listening” to me.’
‘Goodness gracious! Here we go!’ Gladys Friday sat on her chair, defeated.
Quinn continued her rant. ‘This poster clearly states that “NOT LISTENING TO A CHILD” is a form of child abuse. Look – it’s right here, next to “NEGLECTING A CHILD’S EDUCATIONAL NEEDS” and “TEASING A CHILD UNNECESSARILY.” So I would appreciate it if my complaint was taken seriously, and you reported this to the appropriate authorities.’
There was a knock at the door.
‘There’s a delivery man here!’ Beano shouted across the room.
‘I’LL GET IT!’ Bett ran for the door.
‘Get out of my way, Betty Morris! It’s my turn to answer the door!’ Quinn barged past Bett.
‘Get lost, Quinn Davies! It’s my turn!’ Bett pushed Quinn to the floor.
‘GLADYS FRIDAY!’ Quinn shouted. ‘She just assaulted me in front of witnesses!’
‘Will you two just … SHUT UP!’ Gladys Friday bellowed at the girls, and walked out of the room with her fist in her mouth. She answered the door, and the delivery man looked stunned at the chaos in the background.
‘Gladys Friday?’ The delivery man held a pen for the package to be signed.
‘Yes, I bloody am glad it’s Friday!’ She grabbed the pen and signed for the delivery. ‘I can’t wait to get out of this HELLHOLE for the weekend!’
After the tables were cleared, I went over to talk to Karra. Now was my opportunity to ask her for help.
She was playing with her phone.
‘Alright, Karra?’ I sat opposite.
‘Alright, Em?’ She kept her eyes on the phone. It looked like she was texting.
‘Can I talk to you about something?’ I asked.
‘Yeah, hang on a minute.’ She held up her hand for me to shut up.
After a few moments, she looked up from her phone. ‘What did you say?’ Her eyes flickered back to the phone as she spoke.
‘I asked if I could talk to you about something.’ I felt awkward, sitting there, waiting for her attention.
She sighed heavily and rolled her eyes.
I clammed up. She obviously wasn’t in the mood to have a chat. Perhaps it was best to leave it for now. Although maybe she would soften a bit once I’d explained.
‘Um…’ I tried to talk, but the words didn’t seem to come out properly. I didn’t know how to bring the subject up.
Karra threw her phone on the table. ‘Well?’ She spread out her hands in a question. ‘Spit it out then, Em. I haven’t got all day.’
I was nervous. I felt so stupid, telling her that I was being bullied. Why couldn’t I just handle it myself? Why was I such a loser?
‘The thing is,’ I started speaking, ‘there’s this girl in school…’
BRRRRRR! BRRRRRR!
Karra’s phone vibrated on the table.
BRRRRRR! BRRRRRR!
She looked at the flashing screen in front of her, and jumped off the chair. ‘YESSSSS! It’s Lucas. I knew he’d ring.’
She picked up the phone. ‘Alright, Lucas?’
And then she was gone.
I sighed heavily.
‘Never mind,’ I said.
TWENTY
‘Emmeline! Freya! What a lovely surprise!’ Seth-the-name-nurse threw his hands in the air, excited.
I knew now what a name nurse was. Mel said that it was like a key worker for hospital patients.
‘They’ve brought flowers,’ said Mel. ‘Just to brighten the room up a bit, if that’s OK?’
‘Of course it’s OK!’ Seth inhaled the scent of the yellow roses and breathed out happily. ‘Your mum will love these. And yes, it will definitely brighten up the room. Lord knows it needs some colour in there! Hospital rooms are always so…’
‘Rubbish,’ Grandma Coalman answered for him.
‘Well, I was going to say dreary, actually.’ He frowned at Grandma Coalman and led the way to Mum’s room.
Me, Freya and Mel laughed under our breath, and Grandma Coalman winked at us as we all walked down the creepy corridors of the hospital.
‘My girls!’ Mum hugged us tightly. ‘Oh, my goodness, are these for me?’ She bent down and kissed Freya’s forehead, and then kissed my cheek.
Freya nodded proudly.
Mum smiled. ‘They’re beautiful.’
Grandma Coalman arranged them in a vase on the windowsill, and every now and again Mum would go over and admire them. When she bent down to treasure their scent, it was like she was curtseying to them because they were so special.
‘I love roses,’ she said. ‘Thank you so much, girls.’
‘Emmeline didn’t buy them,’ Freya said. ‘I bought them by myself, but I put her name on the card because Grandma Coalman made me.’
‘Shut up, Freya,’ I said. ‘You didn’t even buy them. Grandma Coalman did.’
‘She did not!’ Freya scowled at me. ‘I bought them out of my own money, actually. Grandma Coalman only put £4 towards them. I paid for the rest myself.’
‘How much were they altogether?’ I asked.
Grandma Coalman laughed. ‘A fiver,’ she said, and Freya poked her tongue out at both of us.
‘I love roses,’ said Mel. ‘They’re so … romantic. There’s nothing quite like a nice bunch of red roses.’
‘Oh, no,’ said Mum. ‘I much prefer white. There’s something magical about a white rose.’
Freya threw down her colouring book in frustration. ‘I knew it!’ she said. ‘I knew I should have listened.’
‘Listened to what, love?’ Grandma Coalman asked.
‘He said to get white, but I liked the yellow ones best.’ Freya folded her arms and sulked. ‘I should have listened and bought the white ones!’
‘Who told you to buy white ones?’ I asked.
‘Mind your business, you.’ Freya screwed her nose up at me. ‘You want to know everything, don’t you? I can’t have anything for myself, without you sticking your nose in! If I had chickenpox, you’d want it!’
‘Shut your cakeholes, the pair of you!’ Grandma Coalman shouted and walked over to put the kettle on.
Mum started chatting about some art therapy classes that she’d been attending in the day room. She seemed to really enjoy them and said that it was a good way of releasing tension. I was glad that she was getting more involved in things, instead of always staying in her room. She was getting on well in her counselling sessions too. Seth-the-name-nurse said that her progress was so good, they were even considering letting her have some home visits. Mum was so much better lately. There were still glimpses of wildness, but she was gentler and more predictable, which was a great feeling for me. Freya, on the other hand, was bored by my mother’s new peace of mind.
‘Why don’t you want to play?’ she whined at my mother’s betrayal.
‘It’s not that I don’t want to, Freya.’ Mum bent down to meet her eye. ‘It’s just that I’m really tired at the moment.’
‘But you’re never tired!’ Freya scowled. ‘I suppose that’s what wrestling a lion does to you. You probably need plenty of rest. When you get home, we’ll stay up and play games until two o’clock in the morning!’
‘You can forget that idea, young lady.’ Grandma Coalman gave her a no-nonsense look. ‘You’re in a nice routine now. Bill and Nora told me that you go to bed at eight in their house. So when your mum gets home, you can stick to the same rules.’
Freya looked at Mum, who held her hands up submissively.
‘You can’t tell me what to do, Gram.’ Freya scowled. ‘You won’t even be there to check if I’m in bed or not.’
‘Actually, Grandma Coalman is moving in with us,’ said Mum.
‘For how long?’ I smiled at the prospect of having Grandma Coalman around a lot more.
‘Indefinitely,’ answered Mum.
‘What does indefinitely mean?’ Freya asked.
‘It means forever,’ Grandma Coalman replied with wide, threatening eyes. ‘So you’d better start behaving.’
‘WHAT?’ Freya was outraged.
I was pleased that Grandma Coalman would be moving in to help Mum. It was the perfect solution for both of them.
Grandma Coalman was alone because she was a widow and because she was old.
Mum was alone because she was a widow and because she was crazy.
Now they could be crazy old widows together.
When I first arrived at the children’s home, I couldn’t wait to get back home – back to normal. But during my time there I’d started to realise that, if I was honest, I didn’t want to go back anymore. The children’s home was my home now. I wouldn’t tell my mother yet, but eventually I’d have to let her know that I had made my decision – I wasn’t going home.
‘But why do you need to live with us?’ Freya frowned at Grandma Coalman.
Mum pulled my sister to her. ‘Freya, listen to me. You know how I’ve been feeling unwell for a while?’
Freya nodded.
‘Well, it turns out that I was more unwell than I realised. The doctors say that I’ll be able to go home soon, as long as I have another grown-up in the house to help me with everything.’
‘Like what?’ Freya asked.
‘Like the housework, the cooking, making sure you get to school on time and that you have a proper packed lunch every day. Stuff like that,’ said Mum.
‘But Emmeline does all that. Why do you need Grandma Coalman to help if Em already does it?’ Freya sulked.
Mum chewed the inside of her lip. ‘Because Emmeline shouldn’t be doing things like that at her age,’ she said. ‘Emmeline should never have been doing those things. It should be me who does your lunchbox. That’s my job.’
Freya started laughing. ‘Mum, do you remember the time you put Fluffy in my lunchbox?’
Mum shook her head. She didn’t know what she was talking about.
Freya had a massive smile on her face. ‘I opened my lunchbox at dinnertime, and there he was. He was so happy to see me! And all the other kids were soooo jealous because all they had was boring old sandwiches!’