by Candy Harper
‘That’s horrible,’ Ashandra said. ‘I’m glad you shouted at him.’
I scrunched a handful of duvet. ‘I’m not sure it was a very good idea. I’ve calmed down now and I feel a bit bad.’
‘Don’t feel bad: he deserved it. But maybe you could talk to him? My mum’s always really busy with work, but we had a chat about it last year and now we always spend Saturday afternoon together. Maybe you could have a special afternoon with your dad?’
But I knew there was no way Dad could squeeze a special afternoon with each of his daughters into a week.
When I got back from Ashandra’s, I went straight to bed. I should have been happy that Ash and Kay were finally getting on, but I was still upset about Dad. I felt horrible about shouting at him. It was a stupid idea to try to be tough. I couldn’t pretend not to care about things because I did. I cared a lot. It had even turned out that Amelia cared about things too. She was only horrible because she was upset about Mum and Dad splitting up.
I’d thought that being tough had got Ashandra and Kayleigh to talk to each other, but now Ashandra had told me that they’d started talking because they were worried about me. They went riding because they wanted to make me happy. They were being nice. So maybe being nice was the right thing after all.
I hadn’t got very far trying to be like Amelia or by following Chloe’s lead. And there was no way I could ever hope to be like Lucy. You’re either born a Lucy or you’re not.
Maybe Mum was right in the first place and I should be myself.
In the morning, Dad left for work before I got up. I was glad to go to school to have something else to think about and because I was looking forward to hanging out with Ashandra and Kayleigh now that they were friends and I wasn’t pretending to be hard any more. Except that, when we got to school, all that Ashandra and Kayleigh seemed to talk about was the art competition and horses. So I ended up having to pretend not to care about things after all.
Tuesday was International Day. I was excited about doing lots of activities instead of normal lessons, but I was glad that they gave us a timetable so I knew exactly where I had to be at what time.
Before break, we did African dancing. I was a bit self-conscious, but I liked it when it was my group’s turn to play the drums while the others danced. After break, we had half-an-hour taster sessions of different activities. Our tutor group did yodelling, International Sign Language and capoeira.
At lunchtime, we could buy the Year Nine’s cooking from around the world. I bought three mini samosas from Amelia to share with Ashandra and Kayleigh. When I brought them back to the table, they were talking about the art competition. Again. It was nice to see them getting excited about it, but I was still feeling horrible about shouting at Dad and I wished they’d talk to me and take my mind off it.
After lunch, everyone was herded into the sports hall, which was the only place big enough to fit the whole school plus lots of parents. All around the edges were the competition panels. Year Sevens were let into the hall first so while we were waiting for everybody else to file in we swivelled our necks about to check out the other classes’ panels.
‘Some of them are really good,’ Ashandra said.
‘That’s Chloe’s class’s,’ I said, pointing to the Finland panel, but Ash and Kay were discussing our chances with their heads bent together. I looked back to Chloe’s class’s panel; they’d done a good job. When you looked closely, you could see that there was a tiny army of Moomins marching round the outside edge. Some other Year Eights had done the USA, using loads of little pictures to make up a big image of the stars and stripes flag. It was really effective. I still thought ours was the best, but my nana always said not to count your chickens before they hatch, so I tried not to get my hopes up about a prize. Even so, I definitely saw a lot of people admiring the dragon bursting out of the background. The tiny lights in the lanterns really grabbed your attention too.
Ashandra and Kayleigh hadn’t even noticed that I wasn’t joining in with their conversation. They’d moved on to discussing their waiter at Pizza Hut and his crazy hairstyle. Somehow, that wound back to horse riding.
‘Are we still on for Wednesday in half-term?’ Ashandra asked.
‘Definitely,’ Kayleigh said, smiling.
I didn’t say anything because I didn’t know about Wednesday in half-term and I was pretty sure that that meant I wasn’t invited.
‘We’re going riding,’ Ashandra explained to me. Then, seeing the look on my face, she quickly added, ‘You didn’t want to come, did you?’
I’d spent enough time talking to Suvi now to know that it’s not a good idea to do something that you don’t like just to please other people. Especially when it seemed like they wouldn’t even be that thrilled to have you there anyway.
‘No,’ I said. ‘I don’t think riding is really my thing.’
‘That’s what we thought,’ Kayleigh said.
Which should have been fine. It should have been brilliant that finally they were getting along. But somehow I didn’t feel too good. So far, them getting on didn’t seem to mean we were doing things together: it meant I was feeling left out.
Our head teacher got up on a temporary platform made out of those big stage blocks and the hall fell silent. First, she said how delighted she was to see so many parents and then she told us how lucky we were to have enjoyed such a great range of activities. After that, we watched displays of some of the different activities: morris dancing, tae kwon do and gamelan music. I was glad our tutor group hadn’t been chosen to display anything.
To finish it all off we had three different songs from the Year Nines. Amelia’s was last. When she got up on the stage, my heart started beating really hard. I hoped that her voice wouldn’t crack and she wouldn’t drop the microphone. It was the song that she had written. Chloe was right: it was all about harmony between countries; they must have been told to make it about that stuff because usually Amelia prefers to sing about things dying, but it was really good. Amelia sang the verses and the rest of her class joined in with the chorus. You could see people in the audience swaying; it was an excellent song. They got a very big cheer at the end. I saw Amelia’s eyes catch on someone and when I turned to see who it was I spotted my dad in the second row of parents. He was standing up and clapping. He’s got a very loud cheer.
He’d come! Surely Amelia would forgive him now? I hoped he’d forgiven me for shouting at him.
Finally, the head got to the art competition; she rambled on a bit, but I hardly heard that part.
‘In third place we have 8NM with Finland.’
A giant whoop went up behind us. I didn’t need to turn round to know that it was Chloe.
‘In second place . . .’
I turned to look at Ashandra and Kayleigh; they were gripping each other’s hands tight.
‘. . . 8RP with Spain.’
More shouting and clapping. Either we’d won or we hadn’t come anywhere at all. I touched Ash’s arm, but she didn’t notice.
‘And the winners are . . . 7CE with their striking representation of China.’
We’d won! All around me, our whole class were squealing and cheering. I turned to Ash and Kay. They were locked in a fierce hug.
‘We’re the winners!’ Alenka said to me and she held up her hand for a high five.
‘It’s brilliant,’ I said, smacking her hand.
But actually I didn’t feel very brilliantish.
The head did a bit more telling us how talented and lucky we all were and then it was time to go home.
Dad was waiting for us at the gates.
Chloe beamed when she saw him. ‘Did you see my panel? What did you think of the midnight sun? I did that.’
I thought that Amelia might run into Dad’s arms when she saw him, like they do in films. She didn’t. Instead, she said, ‘Hi,’ like people do in real life. It wasn’t even a very excited ‘hi’.
Dad took us to the café over the road to have cakes. Amelia
waited till he’d brought the tray over and sat down.
‘You can’t just sort everything out by managing to turn up for once in your life,’ she told him.
I put down my cake. I didn’t want to hear any more fighting.
But Dad didn’t shout; he just nodded.
‘That would be like me expecting you to forget about me being rude to you and Suvi for over a year just because I said sorry,’ Amelia said, staring at her hands.
‘Amelia, I am going to forget about that because I understand that you’ve been angry. And you don’t have to forgive me, although it would make me very happy if you did.’
Amelia didn’t say anything.
Dad took a deep breath. ‘I’ve spoken to your mother and it’s become abundantly clear that I should have done more to help you all adjust to how things have changed. I’m really, really sorry that I’ve let you all down.’
He looked at me. It seemed like he really was sorry.
Amelia still didn’t answer.
‘I want you to know that it doesn’t matter how mad you get at me. I will always be your dad and I will always love you.’
He didn’t mind that I’d said those mean things. I let out a long breath. I felt better than I had done all day.
But Amelia wasn’t convinced. ‘If you love us so much, why do you spend so much time at work?’
Dad rubbed at his forehead. ‘I know it doesn’t make any sense to you, but I work so hard because of you, because of my family.’
‘Do you mean money?’ Chloe asked. ‘Because presents and stuff are cool, but we like it when you’re home.’
‘I know that and we have time together most weekends, don’t we?’
Maybe he really didn’t realise how much time he was spending in his study or that when he was with us it wasn’t doing things we wanted to do.
Amelia raised her eyebrows.
‘Well, perhaps not enough.’ Dad fiddled with a teaspoon. ‘I just want to make sure you’ve all got security.’
I remember what Mum said. ‘Is it something to do with when you were younger?’ I asked.
Dad sighed. ‘Yes, yes, I guess that’s where this all started. When I was your age, Ella, my dad lost his job. For a long time after that, we didn’t have any money for luxuries; sometimes we didn’t even have the money for basics.’
I didn’t know that. I knew that my dad’s family weren’t very well off and sometimes he said, ‘When I was a boy, we never had any of this,’ but I hadn’t realised that they were properly poor.
‘That’s sad,’ Chloe said.
‘It was tough, but it made me very determined. I knew that I was going to work hard at school and that I was going to do well so that I could give my family anything they wanted.’
Amelia looked right into Dad’s eyes. ‘We want you.’
Dad blinked. ‘I’ve been a bit of an idiot, haven’t I? It’s taken me a long time, too long, to realise what you really need, but from now on I’m going to be here for you. All of you.’
‘Really?’ Amelia asked, not in a bored, sarcastic, I-don’t-believe-you way, but in a hopeful, wanting way.
‘I’m going to make some changes. No more overtime. And no more pushing my hobbies on you all.’
Chloe threw her arms round Dad.
Amelia just said, ‘Good.’
But I think she meant it as much as the hug.
Dad drove us home.
‘How did you even know I was singing?’ Amelia asked.
‘Chloe told me.’
‘Chloe?’ Amelia swivelled round in her seat to look at Chloe, but she had her earphones plugged in and was digging about in the bottom of her bag for loose Skittles.
‘Yes,’ Dad said. ‘Not only did she tell me that you were singing a solo, she also said that if I didn’t come and watch you she would put Buttercup’s droppings in my muesli.’
I was sitting right behind Amelia so I couldn’t guess what she thought about that by the back of her head, but I could tell she was thinking.
I was so happy that Amelia had made up with Dad and that he seemed to have forgiven me, and that Ashandra and Kayleigh were getting on better than they had done all term. But somehow my insides felt grindy and I had to go and lie on my bed to try and think of bright sides, but my head was too scrambly so I just lay with my eyes closed instead.
After a while, I heard Mum and Lucy come in. Chloe and Amelia were talking loudly and I guessed they were telling her about this afternoon. Then I heard Mum’s footsteps coming up the stairs and into my room. I don’t have to think of bright sides about my mum. That’s how good she is. One of her best good bits is that she knows how you’re feeling. Sometimes she even knows how you’re feeling before you do.
She came and sat on my bed.
‘Did you hear about Dad and Amelia?’ I asked.
She nodded. ‘I’m glad they’ve worked things out. And I hear he’s going to stop working so much when he’s at home. That means you’ll see more of him.’
I nodded a bit.
‘How was International Day?’ she asked.
‘We won the art competition.’
‘That’s brilliant! Ashandra and Kayleigh must have been really pleased. Are they still getting on?’
‘Yep. Really well. They hugged a lot when we won. It’s really good.’
She put a cool hand on my forehead. ‘Are you all playing together?’
I didn’t explain to Mum that you’re not supposed to do playing at secondary school.
‘They’re going riding together at half-term.’
‘You’re not so keen on riding, are you?’
I shook my head.
‘Do you mind if they go without you?’
‘Not really.’
‘But . . .?’
‘I don’t mind them going riding because I don’t really want to do that, but they have been talking about horses a lot and they sit together in maths and they went out for pizza and they’re both really nice so obviously they would like each other, and I wanted them to get on so much, so I should feel happy . . . But I feel a tiny bit left out.’
Mum smoothed my hair back off my face. ‘I can understand that. When there are three people, sometimes it’s hard to work out how you fit together.’
‘I do want them to be friends.’
‘I know. And I think they probably don’t realise that you’re feeling left out. Why don’t you tell Kayleigh and Ashandra?’
‘They might be cross. And it might start an argument.’
‘I don’t think they’d be cross.’
‘They would. They’d say, “Don’t you want us to be friends?” and “You’re the one who said we should spend time together.” And then there’d be a big argument.’
She was watching me. ‘And you wouldn’t like that?’
‘Nobody likes arguments. Except Lucy. And she only likes them when she wins them. Or if someone else is having them and she gets to watch one of the someones bash the other someone over the head.’
‘Arguments can be horrible, but once people have said what they think then hopefully it can all be sorted out.’
I pushed myself into a sitting position. ‘That’s not what happens in an argument!’
‘No?’
‘No. People get upset. Very upset and things are broken and in the end it all finishes and you’re not friends any more.’
‘I think that’s a bit drastic.’
‘That’s what happened with you and Dad.’
Mum’s pulled her head back in surprise. ‘Ella . . . It’s important to tell people how you feel. Talking about your feelings doesn’t have to lead to an argument and, even if it does, an argument doesn’t mean the end of a friendship.’
‘But you and Dad . . .’
‘Dad and I stopped getting along. Stopped enjoying spending time together. Stopped wanting the same things. That’s why we’re not married any more. At the time, when things were going wrong, the best thing we did was talk to each other about how we felt.
Because it helped us understand each other. I think it would be much harder for a relationship to end without understanding why.’
‘But I don’t want things to end with Kayleigh and Ashandra.’
‘Getting divorced was the answer that Dad and I got to. You and Kayleigh and Ashandra aren’t me and your father.’
‘Maybe I’m just being selfish.’
‘Do you want them to stop riding together?’
‘No, I don’t mind that.’
‘But you’d rather that they didn’t talk horses non-stop when they’re with you?’
‘Yes.’
‘That’s not selfish; that’s a completely reasonable request.’
‘I suppose so.’
‘You can’t go on pretending not to be unhappy. It’ll make you even more unhappy. You’ll be so unhappy that you’ll burst. I’ll get covered in Ella gloop.’
I almost managed a laugh. ‘I guess I could talk to them.’
‘I think that’s a really good idea.’
She slipped an arm round me. ‘I’m wondering if Ashandra and Kayleigh aren’t the only ones that you’ve been trying really hard to please.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘Dad told Amelia that he’d love her no matter what, didn’t he?’
‘Yes.’
‘That goes for you too. You don’t have to do anything special; you don’t have to be the good one or the nice one; he’ll love you anyway. And if you talk to him about your feelings he’s not going to go away.’
I didn’t know what to say to that.
She squeezed me. ‘I hid the last of the fairy cakes in the washing machine. Do you want one?’
I followed her downstairs. My mum is magic. Not only does she know exactly what I’m thinking, she’s also smart enough to think of the only place in the house that Chloe would never dream of looking for cake.
Amelia surprised everybody by making dinner. It was a proper one with vegetables and everything. When Lucy came out of the Pit and upstairs to the table, she wouldn’t eat anything until someone else had tried it, but everything actually tasted really good.
When Amelia leant over the table to pass me the potatoes, I saw something on her arms. So did Chloe. She wasn’t wearing her usual black wristbands; she was wearing seven bead bracelets. Every Whoopee bracelet that Chloe had ever made her.