‘I’ve only flown a few times,’ said Becca as she looked around in awe. ‘And I can tell you, Cat, it was nothing like this. Usually there are about fifty seats, maybe even more all lined up in rows in a space about this size. And you hardly get any leg room so it’s bad luck if you’re tall. Once I had this enormous guy sitting next to me and he took up his seat and spilled over into mine. I thought I was going to suffocate. But this . . .’ She stretched out and curled up her toes. ‘This is the business. Luxury. This is how I want to travel from now on.’
‘Me too,’ said Cat then looked around. ‘Where’s Meena gone?’
‘Probably gone to round the boys up,’ I said as I glanced behind me to the door. It was getting close to take-off time and the boys still weren’t on board as Jamie wanted to buy shaving stuff at the last minute and they’d dashed off into the airport to see if there was a chemist’s in there.
I got up to look around the rest of the plane and found Meena fussing about in the kitchen area, much to the bemusement of the pretty blonde flight attendant in there.
‘You don’t have to do that, Meena,’ I said. ‘Come and sit down. This is meant to be a break for you too.’
‘Just checking, just checking,’ she said as I ushered her back along to the lounge area. ‘But it’s OK. All in order.’
Meena is a total sweetheart. She must be well into her fifties and has been with us since as far back as I can remember. She looked after all of us as babies, Star, Ollie and me. She’s part of our family now, more like an auntie to me than a housekeeper.
When we got back to the lounge area, I saw that the boys had boarded. Ollie was sitting next to Cat and I got Squidge’s camera out of my travel bag to take a shot of them as they made such an attractive couple, Ollie with his square handsome face and Cat with her pretty heart-shaped face. Becca was sitting between Jamie and Henry and looking very pleased with herself. I wondered if she fancied either of them. Henry was the better looking of the two: stocky and fair-haired, like Ollie, he is a bit of a heart-throb back in London where he is the school’s star rugby player, but it was Jamie who I thought was most fun to be with. He was smaller than the others with longish brown hair that curled around his collar, and green eyes that took in everything.
Michael was sitting to my right, looking through the DVDs. He glanced up and smiled when he saw me. Michael Bradley. His name still had a strange effect on me, but probably only because I’d written it a thousand times in my notebooks in junior school and later in Years Seven and Eight of secondary. Michael Bradley and Lia Axford. MB and LA. MB loves LA. It seems silly now that I have grown up and moved on. I used to doodle his face in the margins of all my notebooks. Normally, I’m not too good at art but I’d got his features perfect, I’d drawn them so many times. Strong jaw. Dimple in the middle. Wide mouth, slightly plumper lower lip. Straight nose. Velvety brown eyes, silky dark hair with one bit above his right eye that likes to stick up on its own. It had been weird seeing him the night before when the boys arrived down from their school. I wasn’t sure what I’d feel. I’d been with Squidge since the last time I’d seen him and hadn’t thought about any other boy, never mind Michael. He seemed genuinely pleased to see me again and made a point of letting me know that he was now single and that he and Usha had split up. I made it clear straight from the start that I had a boyfriend.
‘Yeah, I heard,’ he’d said, leaning towards me, so that I caught his scent. It was Armani, same as Ollie’s. ‘A boyfriend with his leg in a cast, so I believe he won’t be joining us.’
I didn’t know what to make of it and if he was teasing or flirting with me. Whichever it was, I was going to remain true to Squidge. My crush on Michael was from when I was a kid, I reminded myself. I’ve grown up and moved on.
Watching everyone settle in for the flight, I felt a painful tug in my stomach as I couldn’t help thinking that Squidge should be here, hand in mine as we took off, enjoying himself too. He’d have loved travelling by private jet.
I began to shoot the interior of the plane.
‘Why are you taking pics of the inside of the plane?’ asked Ollie as he tried to poke his head into the frame. ‘Bit boring, isn’t it?’
‘For Squidge,’ I said. ‘I promised him I would photograph all of it right from the start.’
Ollie winked at his mates and, quick as a whistle, he, Jamie and Henry got up, turned away from us, dropped their trousers over their bum cheeks and mooned for the camera.
‘There you go then,’ said Ollie. ‘This will make it more interesting. One of the most beautiful sights imaginable.’
‘Ollie,’ I cried. ‘Grrrrossss.’
Cat and Becca cracked up laughing while Michael rolled his eyes to the heavens and said, ‘Grow up, guys.’
Meena, however, was straight up on her feet.
‘Cover up, cover up. Bad boys, bad boys,’ she said and smacked the three of them on their backsides like they were toddlers who had misbehaved. This only made the others laugh even more. I made sure I got it all on camera. It would make Squidge laugh too. It was the sort of stupid thing that he and Mac might have done if they were here.
The boys zipped up and sat back down under Meena’s disapproving eye and, not long after, the pilot came on board. He introduced himself and his crew, told us a bit about the flight route and time and then disappeared up front.
Soon after, as we took off, I looked out of the window. As we rose upwards, the ground beneath quickly began to recede. Houses and buildings growing smaller and smaller until they looked like tiny rows of boxes and the cars on roads appeared like ants. I turned to look at the lush, green fields disappearing below and behind us and thought that not far away was my poor Squidge all trussed up in his hospital bed in one of the building boxes while we flew higher and higher and further away.
The plane reached cloud level, broke through and I could no longer see the ground. Only a marshmallow landscape of white fluffy clouds and the blue blue sky beyond.
We were on our way.
As we flew, the others chatted and played games. Ollie and Cat settled down to watch a DVD and Becca already seemed to have Jamie and Henry hanging on her every word. She’s so good at flirting, I thought as I watched her flick her hair back and bat her eyelashes as she replied to something that Henry said. I wish I could be as cool and confident as she is.
Every now and again, I glanced over at Michael and every time he was watching me. I’d quickly look away then a few minutes later glance back and he was still staring. With a quiet smile on his face. It was very unnerving. I wanted to tell him to stop looking at me, but that would only draw the others’ attention to us and that was the last thing I wanted. Ollie teasing me for the whole weekend? No thank you.
After a while we started chatting about our lives and school and people we knew. He was easy to talk to. A nice guy. Interesting. Grown up, in a way. Not that Mac or Squidge aren’t, just that Michael comes across as older somehow. He told me he wanted to be a journalist and I told him that I was confused and didn’t know what I wanted to be. We talked about art, music, movies and at one point, I thought, ooh, this is getting to be a little too comfortable, especially as whenever there is a pause in the conversation, he still looks at me with an intent expression.
I made the excuse of wanting to take some photos out of the window and moved over to another window seat which was away from Michael’s gaze where I spent the rest of the flight looking out and daydreaming. It’s one of my favourite things to do on planes and on trains. I love the sense of feeling suspended from the world and from my life for a short time. The feeling that I’ve left one place but haven’t reached the next and watching the passing sky, the swirl of clouds or terrain below. Over fields, roads, rivers, mountains and lives so different from mine. I’ve been so lucky so far and I’ve been to some amazing places and had some fantastic holidays: Kenya, Cape Town, Botswana, South America, Florida, San Francisco, New York, Thailand, Australia, Europe, we’ve been pretty well all o
ver the world. We’d even been to North Africa before, to Tunisia. I liked Africa. Some places you can go and it doesn’t feel like you’re anywhere much different to England. But in Africa, you know that you are. From the moment you see the vast expanse of uninhabited parched brown earth down below from the plane window and then, when you land, feel the warmth of the sun on your skin and breathe the air that smells of spices, herbs, flowers and wood.
The journey took just over three hours and it didn’t feel like long before the pilot informed us that we were flying over Casablanca and it was twenty minutes to landing. Fields below became a patchwork of ice cream colours: honey, strawberry, mint, caramel, vanilla and dark cocoa then a city of pink ochre appeared and the plane started to descend. I glanced over at Cat who was leaning on Ollie’s shoulder and he was holding her hand. I wondered if she’d felt nervous with this being her first time flying. If she had been, she certainly hadn’t shown it but I knew Cat. I knew she could hold her true feelings in and if she’d been scared at all, she wouldn’t have wanted the boys to know.
Becca was playing a card game with Jamie and Henry and she seemed to be winning.
Meena was dozing in her chair.
And Michael was still watching me. I immediately turned away and glanced at the floor then thought, hey, I’m not the kid that used to be in awe and intimidated by him. I’m fourteen now. I lifted my head, turned round and looked right back at him as though challenging him to look away. Our eyes held contact and a bolt of electricity shot through me. He felt it too. I knew he did because his quiet smile spread into a grin and he raised an eyebrow as if to acknowledge what had happened.
I broke his gaze and found Squidge’s camera once more.
‘I’m going to film what the land looks like from up here for Squidge,’ I said to Michael. ‘It’s so different from the green of England, don’t you think?’
Michael nodded. ‘Ah yes Lia,’ he said. ‘Yes.’
I turned away and began to shoot out of the window. I felt confused and cross but I didn’t know whether it was with Michael or myself. How could I feel something that strong when I had a boyfriend? A boyfriend I really liked and wouldn’t hurt for anything. I remembered what he’d made me promise about always telling the truth. If that was to be the case then I would have to do my best to keep away from Michael Bradley once we got off the plane. It was Squidge and Lia now. Not Michael and Lia.
ANY THOUGHTS OF MICHAEL or even Squidge disappeared as soon as we landed and everything went into superspeed – the blast of heat as we got off the plane, the limo picking us up, Jamie and Henry doing the obligatory standing up through the sun roof to wave at people as we passed by, mopeds, bikes, taxis, vans – the mad hot hustle bustle of traffic on the roads into Marrakech, arriving at the hotel, meeting up with Star, Rhiannon and George who had got there on the earlier flight from London. Saying hi to the other guests (also on the flight from London), a quick tour of the hotel, Cat’s eyes shining bright as she took it all in, Becca happy happy to be there, getting showered, changed and quickly into place at the roof terrace bar ready to surprise Mum. Phew. But we made it.
It looked heavenly up there. The sky was soft with the fading light, pastel pink, blue and silver. At the back of the terrace, a low cedarwood table had been laid with crystal, cutlery and candles inside a large Arabian tent. Around the table were plush purple and gold-threaded cushions and on the floor were scattered rugs in the Moroccan colours of red, burgundy and gold. It looked like a table set for a sheikh and his harem. Around the rest of the terrace, soft muslin curtains in reds and purples floated in the evening breeze and at the front above a bar area, a purple silk canopy wafted into the sky. It felt so romantic and I knew Mum was going to love it.
Becca looked at her watch, then out over the ochre roofs of houses in the medina (the market area) that stretched into the distance. ‘It’s amazing, isn’t it? Like a dream.’
‘Did you put your watch back?’ asked Cat.
Becca nodded. ‘Nine p.m. UK time. Eight p.m. here and look at where we are! I have to keep pinching myself!’
‘And everyone is so stunning,’ said Cat as she watched the guests arrive up the stairs on to the terrace.
Everyone had dressed up for the occasion and was looking their Oscar best. Poor Squidge, I thought, he’s probably bored out of his mind right now cooped up in bed watching the soaps on telly and having some horrible hospital dinner instead of being here in this exotic tent in the sky ready to eat a feast fit for a king. I quickly took shots of the room with the camera so that he’d be able to see it all when I got back but I doubted that he’d be able to get the atmosphere. Everyone was in such a good mood and the air was buzzing with anticipation.
Cat and Becca looked fabulous. Becca had been to a beauty salon in the week and had one of those spray tan treatments that make you seem as though you’ve been on holiday for a week. She was wearing a turquoise halter top that made her eyes look the same colour, black trousers, and she’d swept her hair up so that she looked really grown up and sophisticated. Cat was wearing an amazing pink and red tie-dye corset top, a black skirt and a pair of Emma Hope red heels that my sister Star had given her last Christmas. She looked so pretty and so happy and Ollie couldn’t take his eyes off her (and neither could Jamie – I got him on camera with his jaw hanging open). And I was wearing my short silver silk dress. I wore it because it’s Squidge’s favourite and he asked me to wear it so that he could imagine me in it. Personally I thought it accentuated my lack of chest but Cat and Becca said it looked great.
Across the terrace, Star suddenly stood up from her bar stool, put her mobile phone into her bag then lightly struck a glass with a fork so that it made a ‘ting’ sound. The terrace grew quiet.
‘Dad’s just called,’ she said. ‘They’ve arrived back in the hotel and he’s bringing her up here in a few minutes. Now don’t forget, she thinks that they’re having a quiet romantic supper up here, just the two of them, so everybody hide and when I cough, jump out.’
Everyone dived behind the curtains that lined the terrace while I took as many photos as I could of them all disappearing.
‘Come on, Lia,’ called Star. ‘They’ll be here in a sec.’
Most places were taken so I quickly stepped towards the bar area and behind a curtain that led to a tiny balcony overlooking the gardens in the courtyard below. Michael had got there before me and was wedged up against the wall. ‘Not much room in here,’ he said and pulled me close to him. ‘Squeeze in.’
I pulled away. ‘Oh! It’s OK. I’ll find somewhere else.’
‘No time,’ he said. ‘Come on. Squeeze close and I’ll put my arms around your waist.’
I knew that he was right and this wasn’t the time to be precious or prissy so I leaned back against him so that I couldn’t be seen from the terrace. We were so close I could feel his breath on my skin. I felt myself turn to liquid. It felt so perfect, the stunning sky, the scented breeze, my fantasy boy . . .
‘You smell gorgeous,’ he said as he lifted my hair and nuzzled behind my ear and inhaled the Calvin Klein perfume I’d dabbed on earlier.
Behind my ear is one of my most ticklish spots and I jumped and accidentally elbowed Michael in the stomach.
‘Owww,’ he groaned.
‘Sorry. Ticklish neck,’ I whispered.
‘Sorry,’ he said and nuzzled a bit more.
And then I got the giggles.
‘Shhh,’ whispered Michael.
‘Shhh yourself,’ I whispered back.
‘You started it.’
‘Did not. You did. Nuzzling my neck. But it tickles. Can’t help it.’
‘Oh really?’ he said and started nuzzling again plus nibbling my ear a little.
It felt divine and my knees began to buckle. ‘Stop it . . .’
Michael pulled back. ‘Sorry. OK. Quiet now.’
The only sound was the distant sound of traffic and Michael’s steady breathing and then, from somewhere behind one of the cu
rtains close to us, we heard a soft thwpp.
Michael laughed. ‘Someone’s let one go. Glad they’re not in here with us . . .’
‘Oops,’ we heard a male voice say. I think it was Jamie but whoever it was, it started us off giggling again and soon the pair of us were in agony trying to hold it in. Michael had tears running down his cheeks, he was trying so hard. Luckily we didn’t have to wait for too long because we heard footsteps then Dad’s voice.
‘Here we are. What do you think?’ he asked.
‘Oh, Zac,’ we heard Mum say. ‘It’s simply beautiful up here . . . but . . . are you sure we’re in the right place? That table looks as though it’s set for a party.’
And then Star gave the signal cough and we all jumped out.
‘Ta-daaaaaah,’ I cried.
‘Surprise!’ called the others. ‘Happy birthday.’
Mum looked totally astonished as she took in all the faces she knew standing there in front of her. ‘Jamie . . . Lia . . . Star . . . Ollie . . . George . . . Rhiannon. But . . . How did you all get here? And Lia . . . I saw you off to school this morning . . . How . . .?’
Dad laughed. ‘Happy birthday, darling.’
‘Yes, happy birthday, Mum,’ said Ollie.
‘I hope you don’t mind,’ said Dad. ‘I know you said that you didn’t want a big party.’
‘But how did they all get here?’ asked Mum.
‘Magic carpet,’ said Dad. ‘Sure you don’t mind?’
He needn’t have asked. You could tell by Mum’s face that she was delighted. ‘This is perfect. Just perfect. I just didn’t want a big party that I’d end up organising but no, this is perfect.’
Waiters appeared from the bar area and up the stairs. Champagne bottles started popping, trays of wonderful canapés started circulating and the sound of laughter rang out across the rooftops.
It was only when Michael came to stand by me and put his arm round my waist that I realised that in all the excitement I’d forgotten to get Mum’s reaction on camera.
Midsummer Meltdown Page 6