by Maria Grace
Stacey was furious. ‘Accident!’ she shouted. ‘You did it on purpose – I know you did!’
‘Don’t be ridiculous!’ said Ollie. ‘How could she possibly have done it on purpose? She had no way of knowing that you were walking past at that exact moment. What is she? Psychic?’ Ollie laughed and passed Stacey and The Clones some serviettes.
Stacey wiped her face and looked suspiciously at Megan, Ollie and me.
‘Oh, I get it!’ She scowled at us. ‘You’re all in on it, are you? I should have known! My Auntie Zoe was right about you, Smellmeline. You are a freak. Just like your psycho mother!’
‘Don’t you talk about my mother like that!’ I snapped. ‘I said I was sorry. It really was an accident.’
Ollie stepped in. ‘That’s well out of order, Stacey,’ he scolded her. ‘You can’t speak about people’s mothers like that. Have some respect!’
‘Yeah, well, her mother is a psycho!’ Stacey folded her arms. ‘The whole family are psychos. Walking around, thinking they can see the future? Speaking to dead people! You’re freaks, the lot of you! Your mother is in the right place, if you ask me. She belongs in the nuthouse! I only wish you would joinher there!’
The canteen went silent.
Everyone fixed their eyes on me, and I felt my face heat up to the colour of hot ash.
Megan had stopped laughing. ‘You’ve got a real cheek,’ she said, glaring at Stacey Lock.
Stacey scoffed at her.
‘You walk around this school as if you own it.’ Megan’s eyes burned. I’d never seen her look so annoyed. ‘You think it’s OK to bully people on a daily basis, even though nobody has done anything to deserve it.’
‘So?’ Stacey smirked, but I could see her faltering.
‘So, that’s the reason why you haven’t got any friends,’ said Megan. ‘Even your two little sidekicks are only friends with you because they’re too frightened to leave. Nobody else in this school can stand the sight of you because you’re just a troll, Stacey Lock. You’re a mean, pathetic, disgusting little troll.’
My mouth literally dropped open. It wasn’t like Megan to say such things. She was usually so reserved. She hated confrontation, but she still defended me. Her loyalty made my heart ache with thanks.
Stacey wiped her face down one last time and then chucked the serviette at us.
‘This is NOT over,’ she warned me. ‘You. Just. Wait.’
And this time she was definitely talking out loud, because everyone around us had gone eerily quiet.
•••
‘I can’t believe you did it!’ I shouted at Megan. ‘You called Stacey Lock a troll! It was epic.’ I laughed as I replayed the moment in my head for the fiftieth time.
‘Oh, stop!’ Megan lapped up the attention. ‘You’re making me blush!’
Ollie had gone to play football with the boys. Megan and I sat on the steps of C-Block, drinking our pop.
‘Em…’ Megan looked at me.
‘Yeah?’
‘What’s going on with you lately?’
‘What do you mean?’ I asked, but I knew what she was getting at.
‘Come on, Em,’ she said. ‘Don’t play dumb with me. I’ve known you practically my whole life. I can tell when you’re hiding something from me.’
I thought for a moment. I could pretend that I didn’t know what she was talking about, but what good would that do? Was I really going to go the rest of my life without telling my best friend that me and my family were – I didn’t even know what to call it. The word ‘psychic’ was too cheesy. How was I supposed to explain all this to her?
What would she think of me when I told her? Would she think I was lying? Would she think I was a freak? What if she thought I was nuts?
I took a deep breath.
‘Do you remember my Nana Rose?’
She nodded. ‘Of course I do.’
‘Well, when she was alive, she was a bit different to everyone else. She was what you would call a…’ I stuttered, not being able to find the right words.
‘A psychic,’ Megan said matter-of-factly.
I looked at her, surprised. ‘Yes,’ I said. ‘How did you know that?’
‘Everyone said so,’ she replied. ‘My mother and my auntie used to have readings from her. They were devastated when she died, because they had nobody to do their cards for them!’
‘Oh,’ I said. ‘I didn’t know that.’
‘But what has that got to do with this?’ she asked. ‘Why have you been acting so strange?’
‘The thing is,’ I said, ‘I’ve started to realise that I’m quite a lot like my Nana Rose.’
She scrunched her nose up in confusion. ‘What do you mean?’
I looked at her, waiting for her to catch on to what I was saying.
‘Em, answer me.’
I stayed silent and smiled. Any minute now, she would guess how the two stories were connected, and…
‘O … M … G.’ She snapped her eyes open, pronouncing each letter slowly and deliberately. ‘Are you serious?’ She put her hands to her face, because she didn’t know what else to do with them.
I nodded.
‘YOU’RE PSYCHIC?’ she shouted.
‘Well, not a psychic exactly,’ I said. ‘I’m a Listener. It’s complicated – I won’t bore you with the details. But yes, it’s kind of the same thing.’
‘You will bore me with the details!’ She smiled widely. ‘You will bore me with ALL the details – every single one of them!’
I started to explain what had been happening to me. Megan absorbed each word, desperate to know everything. I didn’t have the chance to explain it all, because the bell rang for us to go back to class, but I promised to tell her more later. We walked back into the main building, and I felt about a stone lighter. A weight had been lifted off my shoulders – the burden of not being able to tell anyone was obviously heavier than I realised. I felt much better now that I didn’t have to keep secrets from my best friend anymore.
As we lined up outside the classroom, Megan looked at me and said, ‘What am I thinking now?’
I laughed. ‘It doesn’t work like that!’
‘OK.’ She thought again. ‘What colour am I thinking of?’
‘I don’t know, Megan. I said it doesn’t work like that.’ I rolled my eyes at her, and we made our way into class.
‘Well, how does it work then?’
‘I’m not completely sure,’ I said. ‘I’ve only just started learning about it. I haven’t figured everything out yet.’
‘Fair enough,’ she replied. ‘I won’t mention it again until you want to talk about it.’
‘Thanks,’ I said. ‘I appreciate that.’
We took our seats at a table by the window.
The teacher shouted at everyone to be quiet so she could start the lesson.
I opened my book, ready to work. Megan leaned across and whispered to me. ‘I’m thinking of a number between one and ten. What number is it?’
The last bell rang and everyone made their way into the yard to wait for the school buses. I could see Jolly Clive waiting at the end of the street in the taxi.
My ear started ringing again.
I was saying goodbye to Megan, when something started happening behind us. A crowd had gathered and was heading in our direction.
The ringing sound intensified and I winced as it screeched through me.
What was going on?
I closed my eyes tight and pushed my ears to make it stop.
When I opened my eyes, I saw Megan’s face and I just knew there was trouble.
‘It’s Stacey Lock,’ Megan gulped.
Oh balls.
The crowd reached us.
‘Smellmeline.’ She greeted me with a nod of her head.
‘Stacey.’ I nodded back.
‘Let’s not mess around; I’m just going to get straight to the point. I don’t like youone little bit – I think I’ve made that clear by now,’ she said.
‘You have,’ I agreed.
‘And I know that you don’t like me either.’
‘Well, I wouldn’t say I don’t like you, Stacey,’ I tried to reason with her. ‘It’s just…’
‘Save it for Jeremy Kyle,’ she interrupted me. ‘I’m not interested. Here’s what’s going to happen: tomorrow, straight after the lunch bell, you and me will meet on the hockey pitch, behind the school. We’ll sort it out there.’
‘Wh—What for?’ I asked, even though I knew the answer.
‘So we can join hands and sing Kumba-fudging-ya. Why do you think?’ Stacey folded her arms.
I stood still, not knowing how to respond. I’d never had a fight before. Not a proper one.
‘And if you don’t turn up,’ Stacey continued, ‘everyone in school will see what a chicken you really are.’
O.
M.
G.
‘OK,’ I replied, trying not to show my fear.
‘Good.’ She smirked. ‘See you there.’
THIRTY-ONE
‘Do you want a cup of tea?’ Mum asked.
I nodded, and she put the kettle on.
‘Listen, Mum. I want to apologise about the other day.’
‘Shush, now.’ Mum shook her head. ‘There really is no need.’
‘Yes, there is,’ I replied. ‘I was horrible to you. I didn’t even mean half of the stuff I said, and I’ve felt terrible ever since. I’ve just had a lot on my mind. I argued with Karra, I had tests in school, and then there’s all this stuff with Stacey Lock.’
I blew hot air out of my mouth, slowly. I gazed at the floor, trying to compose myself.
I felt Mum’s hand on my shoulder.
I burst into tears.
‘Oh, Mum,’ I covered my face. ‘Everything’s gone wrong. I don’t know what to do!’
Mum sat down next to me and passed me my cup of tea. ‘Drink that,’ she said. ‘And tell me what’s going on.’
I sipped my tea and explained everything about the Stacey Lock situation. Mum listened and didn’t interrupt. I spent the next half an hour, crying and telling her the whole story.
After I’d finished, we sat quietly for a few moments before Mum finally spoke. ‘Heavy stuff,’ she said.
‘Tell me about it.’ My shoulders slumped. ‘The worst thing is, I don’t even understand why Stacey Lock hates me so much. Is it just because of Ollie? And it’s not just me, either – she seems to hate our whole family! Talk about being obsessed!’
Mum shifted uncomfortably in her chair.
I carried on. ‘And why is Stacey Lock the one person who really triggers the clairaudience in me? What is it about that girl that sets me off?’
‘Em…’ Mum started speaking, but I interrupted her.
‘And why does she think that I fancy Ollie Hart anyway?’ I jumped up and paced the room, waving my arms around like a maniac. ‘I’ve seen the boy pee in a sandpit! As if I could ever fancy him after that!’
‘Em…’ Mum tried again, but I carried on with my rant.
‘And now she wants to fight me! She wants to take my head, squeeze it in her hands, and drain me of all my brain juice until I DIE!’
‘Em…’ Mum rubbed her forehead with the stress.
‘She wants to kill me, Mum. She wants to KILL ME!’
‘EMMELINE!’ Mum shouted at me. ‘SHUT UP!’
I snapped out of my hysteria.
‘Sit down,’ she said. ‘There’s something I need to tell you.’
•••
I couldn’t believe what I was hearing.
‘Back in the day, Nana Rose had a client list of people she would give readings to. She made no secret of the fact that she was clairvoyant.’
I nodded, remembering what Megan had told me about Nana Rose giving tarot readings to Megan’s mother and auntie.
‘Nana Rose was good friends with a woman called Sylvia Lock,’ said Mum. ‘Sylvia was Stacey Lock’s grandmother.’
‘What?’ I was shocked. ‘Nana Rose was friends with Stacey Lock’s grandmother!’
Mum nodded. ‘They were close friends when they were younger. Sylvia Lock used to help your Nana Rose with her readings. Sylvia wasn’t psychic, but she loved going with your Nana Rose and taking notes for the people who were having a reading.’
I was intrigued.
‘They had a great friendship, until…’ Mum trailed off, lost in an old story.
‘Until what?’
Mum sighed. ‘Nana Rose took a shine to Sylvia Lock’s husband.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘Nana Rose fell in love with him,’ she said. ‘And they had an affair.’
‘Nooooo!’
‘Yes.’ Mum nodded. ‘It was quite the scandal. The two women had a big fall out over it. Sylvia became incredibly bitter towards Nana Rose. She started spreading rumours saying that Nana Rose was a fake, that she wasn’t clairvoyant at all – she was just a fraud. Nana Rose couldn’t go anywhere without being picked on by Sylvia’s friends and family.’
I was taken aback.
‘The friendship ended very sourly,’ said Mum.
‘What happened to the man?’ I asked.
‘He died from a heart attack, not long after the whole thing came out in the open,’ replied Mum. ‘When he was on his death bed, Sylvia was by his side, and…’
Mum put her hand over her face.
‘What?’ I asked. ‘What happened?’
‘He asked for Nana Rose,’ answered Mum.
I gasped.
‘You can imagine what that did to Sylvia Lock.’ Mum shook her head. ‘She never got over it. The poor woman was crushed. She cried for months. She spent the rest of her life hating Nana Rose and hating this family. She trained her girls to feel the same way about us, and now the bitterness has been passed down to Stacey.’
‘So that’s why they’ve always picked on us.’
‘Exactly,’ said Mum. ‘Sylvia Lock’s daughter, Zoe, bullied me when we were kids. It was like she had been programmed to despise me as soon as she met me.’
‘Do you mean Zoe-two-doors-up?’ I asked.
Mum nodded. ‘And when we were about seventeen, I started going out with your father. She really didn’t like that. Zoe and her two stupid sidekicks would taunt me whenever they saw me, and Zoe told everyone that I was a witch.’
‘But why?’ I asked.
‘Because she was jealous,’ replied Mum. ‘Zoe had a massive crush on your dad. So when I started going out with him… Well, you can imagine. In Zoe and Sylvia Lock’s eyes, two women from the same family had stolen their men.’
‘Man-stealers,’ I said to myself.
‘Well, I wouldn’t put it like that, Em.’ Mum was offended. ‘It wasn’tmy fault. I didn’t even know that she had a crush on your father. I didn’t find out until after I had started going out with him, so I wouldn’t exactly call me a man-stealer!’
‘No, no!’ I laughed. ‘I wasn’t calling you anything. It’s just that I’ve heard Stacey Lock saying those words about our family. She keeps calling us man-stealers.’
Mum rolled her eyes. ‘I understand that it must have been terrible for poor Sylvia to know that her husband was in love with Nana Rose. But ever since, the women in that family have made our lives miserable!’
‘That still doesn’t explain why it’s Stacey Lock that triggers this Listening stuff,’ I said.
‘I’m sorry, Em.’ Mum got up from her chair to put the kettle back on. ‘It seems that you’re the one taking the brunt of all this. All that bitterness and resentment, all stored up in one family. Imagine the energy there.’ Mum whistled theatrically. ‘You, my lovely girl, are tapping into all that energy. And your main connection to that energy is … Stacey Lock.’
THIRTY-TWO
The next morning, I felt sick all the way to school. I almost chickened out and pretended I was ill, but I knew that if I did that, I would never live it down. If I didn’t go through with this fight, I would be the laughing stock of the
whole school.
I was wearing my lucky cardigan for comfort. Karra had apologised for ripping the white velvet rose off the front. While I was visiting Mum, Karra had taken the cardigan from my drawer and given it to Auntie Sue to mend. Now it was as good as new! I didn’t usually wear it to school, but today was definitely a lucky cardigan kind of day. I needed all the help I could get. My tummy churned as we drove down the hill, and I looked out of the taxi window at the white rose bush. When I saw the lovely white petals, I felt calm for a second.
‘Them roses are stunning, aren’t they, pet?’ Jolly Clive smiled.
I took in their beauty again, for probably the hundredth time since I’d moved to the children’s home.
‘Funny how they seem to blossom all the time, isn’t it?’ he said.
‘What do you mean?’ I asked. ‘Are they not supposed to?’
‘Well, not in the winter!’ He laughed. ‘It’s December. They should have died out long before now. It must be a sign!’
‘A sign of what?’ I asked.
But he’d already started singing to his Boyzone CD, so he didn’t answer.
‘Breathe…’ Megan shoved the paper bag in front of my face. ‘Just breeeathe.’
‘I’m going to die. I’m actually going to DIE!’ I was having a panic attack, I knew it. I had watched a documentary with Peter Andre a while back, and he said that he used to suffer with panic attacks. He said that some of the symptoms were palpitations, sweaty palms, not being able to think straight, and trouble breathing.
I had allof the above.
‘You’re not going to die, Em. I promise.’ Megan squeezed the paper bag to help me breathe properly.
‘I’m having a panic attack!’
‘You’re not having a panic attack, Em. You’re just nervous, that’s all. It is your first proper fight, after all.’
‘But I don’t want to fight anyone!’ I shouted, my voice ten octaves higher than usual. ‘I don’t like fighting! I don’t even like watching other people fight. Not even on the telly. It makes me feel sick. Oh God, I’m going to be sick.’
‘Just calm down, Em. You have to think. What can we do?’
I blew ferociously into the paper bag.