by Judi Curtin
She took Beth by the arm, stood her up and practically pushed her into the front seat of the car.
‘I’m fine,’ said Beth. ‘Really. You can just go. Molly will take care of me, won’t you?’
‘I won’t hear of it,’ said the woman. ‘You need to be checked out by a doctor. That cut might need stitches.’
Beth was looking desperately at me through the open door of the car. I thought about grabbing her and running away over the hedge and through the woods. But she looked paler than I had ever seen her. What if she really was injured? We were far away from everyone we knew, and I didn’t want to take any stupid chances.
‘I think this lady’s right, Beth,’ I said. ‘Let’s go to the hospital – and then when they say you’re OK, we can go … home.’
‘Good advice,’ said the woman. ‘And when we get to the hospital, you can telephone your families, and they can come and pick you up.’
So the woman got into the driver’s seat, and I climbed over Beth and got into the back. I reached for the seat belt and then noticed there wasn’t one – not even in the front! So I crossed my fingers and hoped that the woman was a good driver as we set off for the hospital.
* * *
Luckily the hospital was really close – quite near Eddie’s house on Castle Street. When we got there, the woman insisted on getting a wheelchair and wheeling Beth into the emergency room. As I watched, I couldn’t make up my mind if it was very funny or very scary.
When we got inside, the woman handed me some funny-looking coins and pointed to a payphone.
‘Please call your parents and Beth’s parents and let them know what happened.’
I took the coins and went over to the payphone. I’d seen one when we were time-travelling before, and I was fairly sure I could remember how to work it, but that didn’t really matter anyway.
Who was I supposed to call?
So I put the coins into the phone and pressed a few random numbers, and then pretended to be waiting for someone to answer. After a minute or two I pressed another button and got the coins back. Then I did the same thing with a few more random numbers. When I got the coins back for a second time, I went back to where Beth and the woman were waiting.
‘No one’s home in my place or in Beth’s,’ I said, glad for once that mobile phones weren’t invented yet. ‘I guess our parents are shopping or working or something. I’ll try again in a little while.’
‘Oh, dear,’ said the woman. ‘I’d better talk to the staff and see what they’ve got to say.’
After that there was a big row, because the receptionist wasn’t very happy about a woman landing in with two kids she didn’t even know.
‘Where are the parents or guardians?’ she kept saying. ‘I can’t accept responsibility for unaccompanied children.’
So we sat and waited for another while and every twenty minutes or so I went to the payphone and pretended to call our imaginary grown-up parents, and pretended to be surprised when no one answered.
After a while the woman stood up. ‘I’m very sorry, but I need to leave,’ she said. ‘My mother is ill, and I have to bring her some medication and prepare her dinner.’
So she got two pieces of paper and wrote her name and address and phone number on each. She gave one to the receptionist and handed the other one to Beth.
‘Please ask your parents to contact me,’ she said. ‘And tell them that I deeply regret what happened.’
Beth and I smiled at her. I felt sorry for the woman. She was nice, and it wasn’t her fault that Beth had stepped right out in front of her car, was it?
Soon after the woman left, a nice nurse came over and sat next to us.
‘It’s strange that you haven’t managed to contact your parents, Beth. Can you give me your phone number, so the receptionist can try again?’
‘Oh,’ said Beth. ‘I’ve actually forgotten my own phone number. How weird is that?’
‘That might be the shock of the accident,’ said the nurse. ‘Can you tell me please, Molly?’
Didn’t she know that the accident was just as shocking for me? Call me a wuss, but it’s never a lot of fun seeing your best friend lying on the road, bleeding.
‘Oh,’ I said. ‘Er, I think … I mean …’
I thought about making up a number, but I had no clue what a phone number in 1975 would even look like.
How many digits was it supposed to have?
What if I accidentally made up a real number, and someone answered and said they’d never heard of Beth?
Then Beth nudged me. ‘I remember now,’ she said. ‘You have my number written down, don’t you, Molly? I think you put it in your pocket.’
At last I remembered Donna’s phone number. I smiled when I remembered that she and her parents were going away for the night. Hopefully they were already gone.
‘Of course,’ I said. ‘Silly me.’
The nurse took Donna’s phone number and put it into the pocket of her snowy white uniform. ‘Don’t you worry,’ she said. ‘We’ll keep trying, but in the meantime, we have procedures for dealing with unaccompanied minors. We will take Beth to an examination room now, and see what’s going on. Is that OK with you both?’
I could see tears coming to Beth’s eyes, and I knew it was my turn to be brave.
I hugged her quickly. ‘I know you’re going to be fine,’ I said. ‘We’re all just being super-careful. In half an hour we’ll be on our way home, and we’ll be laughing about all this.’
But I didn’t feel very brave when they wheeled Beth away and I didn’t feel very brave and I had to sit on my own in the huge cold waiting room.
I felt even less brave an hour later when the nice nurse came back and said that they couldn’t find anything seriously wrong, but because she had bumped her head, they were going to keep Beth in hospital overnight – as a precaution.
Now I started to cry. This was all getting much too scary. Beth had never been in hospital since she was born, and back then she had her mum with her to hug her and make her feel safe. Now she had to go through it without her dad or anyone to take care of her.
And if she stayed in hospital for the night, what on earth was I supposed to do?
The nurse put her arm around me. ‘Now, now,’ she said. ‘I’m sure Beth is perfectly fine, and soon your mammy and daddy will be here and everything will be hunky-dory.’
That made me cry even more. Even if my kid mum and dad showed up, I’d have to wait years and years for them to grow up enough to take care of me, and maybe I’d always be older than them anyway, and …
I put my head down on the nurse’s shoulder and cried like a little baby.
Chapter Eleven
a bit later, when my eyes were still all red and puffy, the nurse brought me to Beth’s room. Beth was sitting up in bed, wearing an ugly blue nightie with PROPERTY OF REGIONAL HOSPITAL stamped all over it. In front of her was a huge plate of sandwiches and biscuits, a cup of milk and a bundle of Jackie magazines.
‘I’ll see if they’ve had any luck tracking down your parents,’ said the nurse. ‘And I’ll let you two girls chat. I know what girls your age are like – full of little secrets.’
Beth and I smiled at the nurse as she backed out and closed the door behind her. She had no clue about the biggest secret of all.
The cut on Beth’s cheek was tiny and had already stopped bleeding.
‘What about the cut on your head?’ I asked. ‘Did you have to get stitches?’
She shook her head. ‘They said scalp wounds bleed easily. They cut away a bit of my hair and put a plaster on the cut. Want to see?’
She held back her hair and I was happy to see a small little plaster that didn’t look scary at all – and wouldn’t even be easy to see under Beth’s long hair.
I hugged her. ‘I’m so sorry,’ I said. ‘This is all my fault. If I hadn’t brought you back in time—
‘Hey,’ she said. ‘It’s not like you dragged me here, kicking and screaming. I wanted
to come with you.’
‘Yeah, but—’
‘Look, Molly. You came with me when we found my mum, and when we were trying to help Graham. I’m really happy we tried to do something for your family for once. And anyway, this place isn’t so bad. Everyone’s been really nice to me.’
‘Yeah,’ I said. ‘It’s totally great – except you’re stuck here for the night and I’m …’ I started to cry again.
‘Hey,’ said Beth. ‘It’s OK. You can sleep here on the floor next to me – or in the bed with me, if they’ll let us. Now how about a sandwich? They’re totally delicious.’
I suddenly remembered that I hadn’t eaten for more than forty years. I ate some sandwiches, and drank loads of the milk, and after that I felt a small bit better.
I sat on the bed next to Beth and we read the magazines. The problem page was our favourite, and while some of the problems were a bit weird, others were kind of like the normal things that happen to Beth and me.
Much later the kind nurse came in again. ‘I’m afraid it’s time for you to go home, Molly,’ she said. ‘Visiting hours are long over, and our patient needs to get her beauty sleep.’
‘I thought maybe I could wait until Beth’s parents get here,’ I said, like I didn’t know that was never happening.
The nurse shook her head. ‘That’s out of the question,’ she said. ‘Children who aren’t patients aren’t allowed here after six. Do you live near here? Will you be able to walk home on your own?’
‘Yes,’ I said. ‘I live on Castle Street.’
‘That’s perfect,’ said the nurse. ‘You’ll be there in no time – and you can come back and see Beth first thing in the morning if you like. I expect her parents will be here long before that, but I’m sure they won’t mind if you come along too.’
‘But …’
I didn’t know what to say. If I told the nurse I had nowhere to go, she was going to start asking very awkward questions – the kind of questions that Beth and I couldn’t possibly answer.
I’ve seen Annie the musical, five times and I so didn’t want Beth and me to end up with someone like Miss Hannigan looking after us!
The nurse patted my head. ‘Say goodnight to your friend,’ she said. ‘I’ll be back in five minutes, and I expect you to be gone by then.’
‘Hey,’ said Beth when the nurse was gone. ‘Maybe you could hide here in the room, and then jump into bed with me when everything’s quiet.’
It was a nice thought, but I could see it was crazy. The bed was up on high legs; anyone who came in would easily see me. Apart from that, the only furniture was a small locker that would have been a good hiding place – if I were a tiny baby.
‘It’s no good,’ I said. ‘I’ll have to go.’
‘But where? You can’t walk around on your own for the night. It’s too dangerous.’
‘A 1970s sleepover would have been fun,’ I said. ‘It’s a pity Donna’s gone away for the night, and we have no clue where Pam even lives. The only other person we know around here is Eddie, but I can hardly—’
‘That’s it!’ said Beth.
‘What’s it?’
‘It’s perfect. You can go to Eddie’s place—’
‘And knock on the door and tell my grandparents that I’m Eddie’s daughter, and can I stay the night, because my friend’s in hospital and I’m too afraid to go through Rico’s door on my own, and I’m sorry that Stephen is sick, but it was still really mean of them to give Pablo away like that?’
Beth giggled. ‘That wasn’t exactly my plan,’ she said. ‘I thought you could sneak into the treehouse, and spend the night there. I’d say it’s cosy and warm, and—’
Suddenly I felt scared and angry at the same time. ‘It’s easy for you to talk about cosy and warm when you’ve got a bed to sleep in, and magazines to read, and a bell to ring for nice nurses to bring you food and drinks. I’ll be on my own and scared and—’
‘I’m sorry,’ said Beth, leaning over and hugging me. ‘How about if I sneak out and go with you?’
She was being so nice I couldn’t feel angry anymore. ‘No,’ I said. ‘We’re not taking any stupid chances. The doctors said you need to be in hospital, so that’s what’s going to happen.’
‘But you—’
‘And besides, there’s no way you can sneak out – there’s a desk at the end of the corridor, with a line of nurses all ready to catch you and bring you back to bed.’
‘I guess you’re right,’ said Beth. ‘And they took away my clothes, so I might look a bit conspicuous running around in this weird nightie. Hey, Moll, we both know no parents will be coming to claim me any time soon, so can you bring me some clothes so I can escape tomorrow?’
‘And where am I supposed to get clothes, except for the ones I’m wearing? I’ve only got the few coins that woman gave me – I’m no expert on 1975 money, but if it’s just enough to make a phone call, I’m guessing it’s not enough to buy you a fancy pair of flares and a shiny shirt, all accessorized with a tartan scarf for you to wear around your wrist.’
Beth laughed. ‘You’re a clever girl. See what you can do.’
I knew that if I had been the girl in the bed, Beth would have trekked the country to find me an escape outfit, so I nodded.
‘Thanks,’ she said. ‘And hey, take these.’
She used a paper serviette to wrap up the last of the sandwiches and handed them to me. ‘You can have a midnight feast,’ she said.
A midnight feast on your own is no fun, but I knew she was trying to be nice.
‘Thanks,’ I said.
I could hear the squeak-squeak sound of the nurse’s shoes coming along the corridor, and I didn’t feel ready for more awkward questions, so I gave Beth a quick hug, and then I set off on my journey.
Chapter Twelve
It wasn’t a long walk, but even so, it was almost completely dark by the time I got to Castle Street, which was quiet and a bit creepy. Inside Eddie’s house, the lights were on, and I could see the family sitting around the table, eating. Eddie was leaning forward, and eating really fast, like someone was going to steal the plate away before he was finished. I had to smile – my dad still eats exactly the same way.
His mum said something to Eddie, and when he answered, I could see that he was laughing, and that made me feel good – maybe things weren’t as bad as they had seemed that afternoon. Maybe little kids can forget – for a while.
I stood there for a long time, watching. When they had finished eating, his mum cleared the table, and the others just sat there – which seemed a bit mean because I guessed she’d done all the cooking too.
When his mum came back into the room, everyone went to sit on the couch. His mum tucked a big blanket around Stephen’s skinny legs. She didn’t notice Eddie staring at her while she stroked Stephen’s hair – but I did. I wondered if kids with brothers and sisters are jealous all the time.
How do mums and dads share out the hugs and the kisses so no one feels left out?
Maybe I’m lucky to be an only child.
Or maybe I’m really, really lucky to be an only child who lives in the same house as her very best friend.
My dad was just a kid, and I didn’t really know the other people, but still I couldn’t help feeling left out, like I should be in there with my family. After a bit, his mum got up and pulled the curtains closed. I know it was stupid, but I couldn’t help feeling that she was deliberately shutting me out. It was the loneliest feeling in the world.
Luckily the moon gave enough light for me to find my way down the lane and through the gap in the hedge. I climbed up the ladder, pushed open the door of the treehouse, and went inside.
When I’d been with Beth and Eddie, the treehouse seemed cool and fun, now it was dark and cold and scary. I’m not actually scared of the dark, but I don’t like it very much either, and I really wished my phone wasn’t dead. I shivered, wondering if it was too soon to curl up and cry. Then I remembered the torch I’d seen earlier. I felt
around in the dark, and after I’d touched something sticky, and something that might have been a heap of dead flies, my fingers reached the cool hard plastic of the torch.
‘Please have batteries,’ I whispered as I felt for the switch. ‘Please, please have batteries.’
As I slid the switch, the treehouse filled with a weak, yellowish light. ‘Yesss!’ I whispered. It’s funny how little things can be so important at times like this.
With the light, I could examine the place more closely. Behind the door I found real treasure – a thick woolly rug. I wrapped the rug around myself, propped the torch on the floor, and ate a sandwich to make myself feel better.
When I’d finished eating, I tracked the torch along the walls, looking at cobwebs and rusty nails. If Beth had been there, this could have been a wonderful adventure, but on my own …
Then I saw the wooden box with the TOP SECRET label. I scooched over towards it and put my hand on the lid. For a tiny second I felt guilty, but then I got over it – after all, I was family, so the sign probably wasn’t meant for me.
I lifted the lid slowly, not sure what I was hoping to see. A flask of hot soup would have been nice, or maybe a games console so the night would pass quickly.
For a second I was disappointed when I saw that the box was full of old exercise books.
‘Yippee!’ I thought. Lots of old homework belonging to Eddie and Stephen. Maybe I could pass the time by seeing if they were any good at maths or geography back in the day? Lately, Dad has been giving me a hard time if I don’t get top marks in every single test I do; maybe this was my chance to see exactly how great he was when he was at school. Maybe I’d get really lucky and find out that he was rubbish at something. But then I picked up the first book, and smiled.
The cover was decorated with drawings of monkeys and tigers. At the bottom, in wobbly capital letters I read – ‘ADVENSHUR IN THE JUNGLE BY STEPHEN AND EDDIE’.
I’d found the stories that Eddie had told me about! There were loads and loads of them, and all of a sudden, I knew exactly how I was going to pass the hours until I was tired enough to go to sleep.