by Jean Ure
Auntie Jay was quite impressed. She said, “Well, I congratulate you, you’ve kept the place really neat and tidy.” We had, too! Well, if you didn’t look too carefully, which fortunately Auntie Jay didn’t. She opened the fridge, but only the top part, not the polar regions, and she just glanced in passing at the sink, which was just as well as we afterwards discovered it was coated in some kind of greasy grey mould. Not very wholesome. I did notice that the carpet seemed to have changed colour from what it was when we moved in, and Tash obviously noticed it, too, as she somewhat nervously explained to Auntie Jay that “We haven’t actually done the – um – ah – vacuuming yet. We do it like – um, ah—”
“Once a week,” I said. (More presence of mind!)
Tash said, “Once a week.”
“On a Friday,” I said.
“On a Friday,” said Tash.
I added helpfully, in case Auntie Jay might not be aware, that Friday hadn’t yet finished.
Auntie Jay said, “Quite,” and went to look in Ali’s little room. We didn’t know – at the time – what she saw, as we never go in there, but whatever it was she shut the door on it double quick, saying, “Yes … I think perhaps we’d better draw a veil over that.”
Tash, being a bit cheeky, said, “Do we get a gold star for the rest?”
Auntie Jay said, “How about a silver one?” She then told us that she thought we’d done “a really good job these last few weeks” and had proved we were “mature and responsible”. She said, “Your mum and dad will be proud of you.”
That made us glow! But after Auntie Jay had gone back downstairs we went to look in Ali’s broom cupboard and see for ourselves what it was that had to have a veil drawn over it. Tash cried, “My God, what has she done?” It’s like some kind of mad maze. I mean, you can hardly move in there. The bed is entirely hemmed in by stacks of books and videos, and there are great mountains of paper, almost up to the ceiling (which is admittedly quite low). On top of the mountains there are piles of clothes, along with an assortment of cups and plates and glasses – plus Fat Man, beaming down at us. Between the stacks there is this narrow path leading to the bed. It is so narrow that if you were a plump sort of person, like Avril, for instance, you would never be able to squeeze your way through. Even Ali probably has to go sideways.
I said, “She is completely loopy.”
“Barking mad,” said Tash.
I mean, practically certifiable. It is considerably annoying when you think of all the hard work we put in, clearing the rest of the place up. If it hadn’t been for Ali and her beastly broom cupboard, we might have had a gold star instead of a mere silver. Trust her!
She arrived just a few minutes after Auntie Jay had left, and we both tore into her. We told her that Auntie Jay had been up, doing a spot check, and that we had had to tidy things away all by ourselves. Tash said, “We got it all looking really good – and then she opened your door and nearly freaked!”
I said, “How can you exist like that?”
To which Ali had the nerve to retort that it was no worse “in there” than it was “out here”.
With some irritation I said that that was not the point. “The point is, we did all that clearing up and then she went into your room and she had to draw a veil, it was so gross.”
“You can’t even move,” said Tash.
Ali said, “I can.”
I don’t know what it is with Ali, but she is becoming very difficult. It’s just started happening, just this last week or two. She will no longer accept any sort of criticism, even when it is for her own good, and she has developed this maddening habit of answering back. She never used to be like this! She has always had a stubborn streak, like she has always insisted on doing her own thing. But she never used to argue and snap all the time. It’s like she has suddenly become madly full of herself and won’t listen to a word that anyone says. I mean, there wasn’t so much as a hint of apology for the foul state of her room and the fact that she wasn’t here to help tidy up, and when we asked her where she’d been she practically told us that it was none of our business.
I said, “Ali, we’re not prying, we’re just interested. We’d always tell you where we’ve been.” But she still wouldn’t say. I can’t imagine what she has to be so secretive about as she is the last person to have assignations i. e., with Unsuitable People. Tash, giggling, suggested that maybe she had been out with Mr Swetman, who takes us for German and once seduced a girl in the games cupboard. Well, that is the rumour. It probably isn’t true, but he certainly looks like someone who would seduce people in games cupboards.
Tash said, “Have you? Come on, tell us the truth! You’ve been in the games cupboard with Mr Swetman, haven’t you?”
Normally Ali would fire up, bright red and hot as a chilli pepper, if anyone teased her like that. Today she just snapped, “Oh, for goodness’ sake, stop being so childish! I’m going to get something to eat.”
Tash and I looked at each other and pulled faces. We both agree that something very odd is going on.
It is now nearly midnight. We have spent all evening vacuuming and dusting and putting things away. Totally dreary, but it had to be done. We have even scrubbed the sink and ironed the bed stuff. Oh, and we have carted two bags full of rubbish down to the bin. Ali has been helping us, but has done nothing whatsoever about the state of her broom cupboard. Well, she did bring out a few dirty plates and glasses, but that is all. We have no idea whether she intends to do anything about the rest of the squalor, and we do not intend to ask. We are sick of domesticity.
Tomorrow – hooray! – it’s Shauna’s party. The last one of the term. It should be good, I am looking forward to it. She has promised us boys galore!!!
I think I am going to turn the light out now as all this horrible housework has made me really tired. Tash is already snoring happy little pig-like snores at my side. It’s so strange to think that this time on Sunday we shall be back home with Mum and Dad and sleeping in our own separate beds. I have grown quite fond of Tash’s snoring!
Week 9, Saturday
We have just got back from the party. It was quite a good one, I would probably give it about eight out of ten, but sadly lacking in the boy department. If Shauna’s idea of boys galore is a couple of weedy cousins and one of their friends, then all I can say is that we have very different standards. I mean, three boys and eight girls! Pur-lease! Especially as two of them were only twelve, and the one that was thirteen looked about eleven.
A bit too young for my taste. I suppose I am quite sophisticated as I really only fancy older men. Wackeen, for instance. He must have been at least fifteen. Tash’s Italian waiter is more like seventeen, though I notice she has been rather quiet about him these last couple of days. Still, it was a fun evening, and especially when we sat down at the end to watch a vampire movie which had us all screaming and hiding our heads in our hands. It was really s-s-s-s-scary! I think even the boys were scared, though of course they pretended not to be.
Shauna’s dad gave us a lift afterwards. It was really late, almost eleven o’clock, but Auntie Jay had said it would be OK so long as we were brought home. We called out to her that we were back, and she put her head round the door and said, “Did you have a good time?” We assured her that we did.
I said, “We saw this brilliant movie – Revenge of the Vampires.”
Auntie Jay said, “Sooner you than me. I hope it doesn’t give you nightmares … I’d be really spooked!”
Me and Tash are not in the least bit spooked. We are made of sterner stuff! Fangs dripping with blood don’t faze us. Not even stakes being driven through hearts, though I must admit it was a bit yucky when one person that got bitten started to jellify, so that his skin kind of, like, bubbled, and his face turned to mush, and both his eyes went melting out of their sockets and slithering and slurping down his cheeks before going plop off his chin and lying there on the ground like two puddles of poached egg. That was truly gross!
We crept
up the stairs as quiet as could be, hardly even daring to breathe, in case people were asleep. No one can accuse us of being inconsiderate! I guess Ali must be asleep as her door is closed and we can hear no sound of television.
Oh! Tash has just interrupted me to say that in fact Ali isn’t here. She says she has looked in her cupboard and it’s empty. I have asked her how she could tell. I said that Ali probably was in there, but disguised as a newspaper. Rather witty, I thought! But it seems that it is serious; at any rate, Tash is taking it seriously. She says we are not supposed to be out at this time of night, and have I any idea where Ali could be?
The answer is no; I didn’t bother asking. I would only have got my head snapped off again, or been told that it was none of my business. She has made it quite plain she thinks we are being nosy. All she would have said was that she had “things to do” or “somewhere to go”, so we wouldn’t have been any the wiser.
Tash has just come bursting back into the room. She has been downstairs to check the book. Ali hasn’t signed out, but she is definitely not in her cupboard. Where on earth can she be? Tash is now ringing Auntie Jay, to see if she is downstairs.
She isn’t; Auntie Jay hasn’t seen her all evening. Tash says she is coming up, right away. I’m worried, now! Really worried. Ali is so absent-minded. And not in the least bit streetwise. She is not safe to be let out! She is too naïve. She’ll talk to just anybody. People in doorways, total strangers. It never occurs to her that she might be putting herself in danger.
Oh, God, please let her be all right! Wherever she is, please take care of her. Make her come back! I couldn’t bear it if anything happened to Ali!
The Ending
I am not keeping a diary any more; I feel that I’ve had enough. All this writing, writing, writing. Maybe one day I’ll start again, but for the moment I am totally written out. This is the last entry I shall make.
Two weeks have passed since the night Ali went missing. I don’t think I have ever been so frightened in my life as I was that night. I remember how Auntie Jay came tearing up the stairs. I could tell, immediately, that she was as scared as we were. By then it was gone half-past eleven. Ali had never stayed out that late before. She might occasionally have lost track of time, she might have forgotten where she was supposed to be, she had even rung home once to say that she was lost, and could Dad go and get her. But now it seemed like she had just disappeared off the face of the earth.
Auntie Jay wanted to know when we had last seen her. We said that we had left her in the flat when we went off to the party. Auntie Jay said, “And what was she going to do? What were her plans?” We had to explain that we didn’t know because we hadn’t asked.
Tash said, “We’ve given up asking, it’s useless, she never tells us anything.”
I added that we had tried. I didn’t want Auntie Jay thinking we had neglected her, or not shown any interest. “She just won’t communicate.”
Auntie Jay then said something which gave us a bit of a jolt. She said, “Well, I’m not altogether surprised … you do rather tend to patronise her, don’t you?”
I said, “Us?” Tash said, “Patronise?” Auntie Jay said, “Oh, now, come on, you know you do! The only reason the poor girl doesn’t tell you things is that she’s scared you’ll start having a go at her.”
I thought, well! So that’s all the thanks we get. I was really shaken, though. Tash, very earnestly, said, “It’s for her own good. We’re only trying to help!”
Auntie Jay said that she wasn’t sure Ali needed our help. She said, “Your sister has a mind of her own. She’s a very interesting young woman, never underestimate her! We’ve had some extremely illuminating conversations, she and I. Now, where do you think she can have gone? You must have some idea!”
Considerably chastened, we said that she was probably with Louise. Auntie Jay said, “Then let’s find Louise’s number and ring her.” We had to look it up in the telephone book. While Auntie Jay was dialling the number, me and Tash exchanged glances. I think we were both a bit taken aback by the things Auntie Jay had said. Plus, even though I was by now approaching a state of panic, with my stomach tying itself in knots, I couldn’t help feeling just the teeniest tiniest tidge of jealousy at the thought of Ali having all those “illuminating conversations” and Auntie Jay thinking so highly of her.
I was hoping that when she got off the phone she would say that Ali was round at Lou’s and had simply forgotten to tell us that she was sleeping over; but she didn’t. Instead, very quietly, she said, “The Wagstaffes aren’t at that number any more. They moved up to Manchester six weeks ago.” I was, like, dumbfounded. Louise had moved and Ali hadn’t even bothered to mention it? I said this to Auntie Jay.
I said, “Louise was her best friend! She was her only friend! How could she not have told us?”
Auntie Jay said, “That’s the question you have to ask yourself. Did you not notice she wasn’t in school any more?”
Tash muttered that we weren’t in the same class. “She was Year 9.”
Auntie Jay said, “Yes, of course, and there are just so many of you!”
I think she was being sarcastic as there are only three hundred people in the whole school. And now that she had mentioned it, I realised that somewhere at the back of my mind I had been aware Louise wasn’t around. We always used to see her and Ali sitting together at lunch, and hanging out together during break. These last few weeks, Ali had mostly been on her own. It wasn’t that we hadn’t noticed; we just hadn’t bothered to think what it meant.
Tash wailed, “Where can she be if she’s not with Louise?” Auntie Jay said that was what we had to find out. She told us to “Come along!” and set off downstairs, with me and Tash trailing after her.
My heart was now beginning to thump quite alarmingly. I had these terrible visions of Ali running away because we had been so mean to her. Patronising her, and being impatient with her. Finding fault with the way she looked, the way she dressed. The way she just was. I thought, “Please let her come back safely and I will never criticise her again!”
Downstairs, in Auntie Jay’s basement, Mr O’Shaugnessy was slumped on the sofa, gazing bleary-eyed at the television. We were quite surprised to see him there. We were even more surprised when Auntie Jay, very sharply, said, “Andrew, wake up! Get your act together. Where’s Gus?”
Gus’s dad is a very woolly sort of man. He was wearing his baggy cardigan again. He struggled to sit up, saying, “Gus?” Like he couldn’t quite place who Gus was. He probably has his mind on higher things, being an educational person.
Auntie Jay snapped, “Yes, Gus! Where is he?”
Mr O’Shaugnessy said he supposed he was still upstairs. He said, “He was when I left him.”
Auntie Jay said, “By himself? Ali wasn’t with him?”
Mr O’Shaugnessy said, “Not as far as I can remember … no, I’m sure she wasn’t.”
Auntie Jay is not someone who believes in wasting time. She was whizzing back up the basement steps, with me and Tash whizzing behind her, almost before Mr O’Shaugnessy had managed to peel himself off the sofa. I wanted to tell her that it was no use asking Gus where Ali might be as they never had anything to do with each other, and in any case Gus wasn’t into girls; but by now his dad had caught up with us, so I didn’t quite like to.
It was Tash who said, “Why should Gus know where Ali’s gone?” For some reason Auntie Jay seemed to think he might, but when his dad opened the door and we all trooped inside, the flat was empty.
Auntie Jay said, “Right! Where is he? Come on, Andrew! Where could he have gone?”
Mr O’Shaugnessy scratched his head and said he didn’t know. “He didn’t mention anything about going anywhere. He would have told me if he were.”
Auntie Jay didn’t seem to think that was good enough. She said, “Oh, really, Andrew! Where is he likely to have gone? You must know some of the places he goes to. Think!”
While Mr O’Shaugnessy was thinking, I drif
ted back out on to the landing. I was sort of half expecting, and half praying, that I would see the front door open and Ali come through it. I don’t quite know what it was that made me glance upstairs, to our own landing. I think maybe it must have been Fat Man, chirruping to get my attention, because when I looked up I saw him, perched on top of a stepladder. I couldn’t remember the stepladder being there before, though they must have been there when we came back from the party. But they were pushed to one side, in the shadows, so that I still might not have noticed them if Fat Man hadn’t chirruped. I tugged at Auntie Jay’s arm and said, “Look! What are they doing there?”
Auntie Jay cried, “The roof!” and went charging up the stairs, two at a time.
Me and Tash had never realised that you could get on to the roof. Just above the steps was a skylight, which Auntie Jay pushed open. We saw her head disappear, while the rest of her stayed where it was; then a second later she came back down the steps, with this big goofy smile on her face and said, “Sh … go and have a look!” For once I got in ahead of Tash. I was up those steps so fast. I don’t know what I expected to see, but I would never have guessed, not in a thousand million years, the sight that greeted me: Ali and Gus, fast asleep in each other’s arms, tucked away in the angle of a chimney stack …
Well. I just could hardly believe it. Ali, of all people! And Gus. It seems he is into girls, after all; he’s just shy. I guess me and Tash were a bit too much for him. A bit too high-powered. But he and Ali, it’s like they were made for each other. It turns out they had been dating for weeks – and Ali had never said a word! It did sort of explain a few of the things which had puzzled us, like Ali buying new clothes and getting all dressed up the night we went to the pizza restaurant, and Auntie Jay hauling Tash out of the car so that Ali could go with Gus. Cos Auntie Jay knew what was going on. She’d known for ages. Me and Tash were the only ones who didn’t.