by Daisy White
I slide in, limping through the front door like a wounded animal, triumph forgotten. It can’t have been Leo.
*
“You know, I can’t work you out.” Matt leans forward across the red plastic table to nick one of my chips.
“What do you mean?” He really is gorgeous, I think reluctantly, as a ray of sunshine highlights his rumpled dark hair, and slanty eyes.
“Well at college you were always totally serious. This really shy girl who wouldn’t even look at me. Jeez, I even asked Rose if she thought I had a chance!” He gives an embarrassed laugh.
“Really? What did she say?”
“She said I had no chance against Leo!” He starts on our pizza, picking out bits of pepperoni, leaning back to greet a couple of mates who push past to join the queue for fast food.
Ratz is packed. It’s 7pm so half the kids in town are stocking up on fried food and bizarre cocktails before heading out to party. It is not a good place for a romantic date but I am happy. I still feel a bit awkward around Matt when we’re out in company, like I need to impress him, like I need to be careful not to spill ketchup on my lacy white gypsy top. Which of course, is exactly what I do.
“Do you want to go for a walk round the park?”
“Can I hop?” My leg is really painful, but of course Matt thinks it’s just the accident. He has no idea I was swimming for my life at 2am this morning.
“Sorry. I’d carry you but you might be a bit heavy!” The mischievous glint as I turn indignantly.
The warm air is thick with the smell of autumn. My first autumn without Rose. The rest of my life without Rose. I sigh heavily and lean in to Matt as we sit on the same bench Leo and I chose two weeks ago. I am no further ahead with finding out what happened to my sister, and part of me is just so tired of wondering, despite my personal triumph last night, if I should carry on. Plus Leo is niggling me.
“You’re really quiet. Is your leg really bad?”
I shake my head, “Matt, can I ask you something?”
“Sure. Anything.”
“Why do you think Rose was on The Road that night?”
He is surprised by my question, narrowing his eyes, “I don’t know. I mean, me and Ash have been over and over it. You know they had that row?”
I nod, feeling an unexpected lump in my throat. The pain hasn’t really gone away. It’s just dulled a little.
“Well, he blames himself. If they hadn’t rowed she would never have stormed off. She would have been safe with him.”
“I know about her seeing other people.” I decide not to mention the significant ‘other bloke’, although as Ash’s best mate I’m sure he knows.
He gives me a quick look, “Did Ash tell you that? I don’t think she was exactly seeing anyone. She just, well you know Rose. She liked the attention,” He sees my face and adds quickly, “She was amazing wasn’t she? But your sister was crazy!”
A tear rolls down my face and I fiercely wipe it away, “What do you think about LiveWire?”
“I don’t know. Might be nothing to do with her accident. We might never know why she was down there. They might never catch the driver that did it.” His expression is sympathetic, but not patronising.
I get the impression he has said this many times before, and it occurs to me that he probably has…..to Ashley.
“Come on. Let’s go see Ash’s farm!” Matt gives me a hand up. He’s borrowed his dad’s old fiat so we head off in style.
He drives fast, but deftly, efficiently, and soon we are speeding along the motorway, taking the next slip road, and sure enough straight ahead are fields full of animals. We are right out on the other side of town, where lush grass borders The Road on both sides. Ugly barbed wire straggles, dividing sheep, pigs, a couple of cows, even some chickens rooting in the giant weeds and brambles. Way down a narrow bumpy track is an ugly yellow bungalow.
“Hey guys!” It’s Ash, doing the farmer thing with a battered bucket of stinky mush. He grins at me, “Pig food!”
I do vaguely remember Rose saying Ash lived out of town, but that was it. She definitely didn’t mention this lot. A tall, dark haired bloke, over in the far corner of the chicken run waves, and goes back to bashing a fence post with a wicked looking hammer.
“My dad,” Ash explains, “Look these there are six from the other night, and this one, she’s ours. She kind of helps the others settle in.”
He and Matt hang over the snuffling grunting creatures, scratching their backs, chucking food in the plastic trough, but I linger by the gate. The smell is unpleasant, but I suppose just farmyardy really. As I watch a pig sticks her snout through the fence.
I reach out a tentative hand. Her nose is wet and enquiring, clever little amber eyes friendly and bright with intelligence.
“Hallo pig!” I am smitten. These creatures are cool, and I can totally see why Rose was helping them, especially as Matt told me about factory farming on the drive over. Sick.
Ash is watching, “She was one of the first we…um, rescued.” Silence for a minute then, “I thought I might call her Rose….if…um…if it’s okay with you?”
Both boys are watching me anxiously as I carefully scratch the pig’s chin. She smiles with pleasure, grunting gently.
“Yeah,” I can’t stop a great grin cracking my face as I look up finally. “Yeah. I think she would have liked that.”
Matt drops me home a bit after ten, and I am still in my happy, slightly dreamy mood. He kisses me lightly on the lips. He tastes of salt and sun.
“Text me yeah?”
I nod, and head indoors, hanging onto my happiness with all my strength.
Of course it doesn’t last, and I am almost tempted to visit the pigs again to get that feeling back. I don’t and plough through the rest of the evening with my head in LiveWire. Collapsing into bed that night, I am so exhausted I can’t sleep. Don’t you just hate it when that happens? My mind spins, trying to process the whole mess. I have avoided Leo today and he is not happy. Apparently he is allowed to ignore me but it doesn’t cut both ways; six messages and a call to my mum. But what do I say? I saw him with that mystery girl. The security light was directly on his face. He looked different though, and I frown trying to replay the scene in my mind, then it strikes me. No glasses. I thought he couldn’t even see without glasses. Older, better looking even.
Without thinking I pad downstairs to find my mum. She is curled up on the sofa with a glass of wine, her long red hair streaming down her back. It’s time for another Talk. No Garry tonight. Good.
“What’s wrong Caroline? It is not just Rose is it? Something else is bothering you.” Her face flickers in the candlelight. Mum loves candles and Garry is always buying her those expensive Jo Malone ones that smell of vanilla and spice.
I sink down next to her, and pull a blue wool throw over my bare legs, “Mum, are you serious about Australia?”
She puts her wine on the corner table, feeling carefully for the coaster, “Yes. Are you? You said the other day you were interested. Was that true?”
I think about leaving here, the Estate, Ratz, Matt, Leo. Not Leo, if his backpacker story was true. Rose. “Yeah. Mum I really don’t want to read Biology at uni. I don’t even think I want to go to uni,” Go for it, I urge myself, “I want to go to art college.”
Bombshell dropped. For a second she looks stunned, “But your results…all A stars. You seemed so happy…,” then to my amazement she breaks off and smiles.
“I thought you’d go mad!” I’m slightly indignant she hasn’t to be honest. This huge thing I’ve been storing up for ages, and she smiles.
“Oh Caroline, why would you think that, love? I could tell your heart was never in the sciences. In fact I was slightly surprised you insisted on doing those A-levels.”
I actually stand up, “What? But, Mum I did it because you wanted me to! You wanted me to do science, be like you and get a job in a lab!”
She is shocked too, “Whatever made you think that love? I�
�ve seen your drawings. They are excellent. That is where your real talent lies.”
“But….”
She takes my hand, pulling me gently back down.
The candles dance and tears fall again. I can’t let that happen so I take a deep breath, “You wanted me to be like you because Rose was just like Dad!”
“Oh Caroline!” Her tears are falling onto my hands, her fingers gripping mine. And at last I don’t pull away. Because I don’t want to. But I can’t stop talking.
“She even looked like him! And she was sporty and did crazy things just like him, but I look just like you and I thought…”
“Sweetheart, you have got things all mixed up. We didn’t love you both because you were carbon copies of us. We loved you because you were so different. Both of you are a bit of us, and a whole lot of your own person. I feel so bad you got the idea I wanted a little clone.”
I am blown away, like my whole life has been based on, well, the wrong thing.
Chapter Fourteen
Mum gets up, rummaging in the cupboard under the stairs, eventually emerging, red faced and dusty, with a cardboard folder. Photos, dog eared, too random for the albums but too precious to chuck in the bin. Me and Rose as babies, with Mum, Dad, laughing, crawling, walking…..Part of me knows now is a time to cry, mum is sniffing to herself as she looks at the four of us on beach somewhere, hair blowing in the wind. But I can’t, even though looking at that happy family, knowing that within seven years four will become two, it seems like the saddest, most gut- wrenching thing ever. But I am good at burying my feelings; it’s so much easier than having to deal with them, so I bite my lip. Hard.
Together we snuggle on the sofa and for the first time in ages (well ever really) I actually talk to my mum, and she actually listens! Soon I run hobble upstairs and bring down my St Martin’s art folder. For once I can’t feel Rose’s presence; it’s just me and mum. I’m high on relief and no sleep when I eventually creep upstairs. We never did get round to talking about Australia.
But I feel good, like I am finally going places again, moving on…
I’m just nodding off when my phone beeps and I struggle up, cursing myself for not turning it off. It’s a LiveWire message to Farlan;
‘Well done – STLL BEATING U THO! R u 2 chicken? Sat.’
I force myself to sleep and strangely it works, it’s like my Talk with Mum has drugged me out, even though Kelly’s message echoes through my dreams…‘chicken…are you chicken?’ Even when I wake I am strangely calm, managing to hug Mum goodbye, liking the fact she is so happy. Because of me.
Hanging onto my mood again I ring Leo and arrange to meet at his place for dinner.
“Have you been avoiding me Caz? Have I done something to upset you?”
No, I tell him, everything’s fine. Just had stuff to work out, about Rose, about my life.
“Of course. Anytime I can help you know….” He trails off sounding little boy vulnerable, which immediately makes me feel the usual mixture of guilt and annoyance. I wonder if he’s always been like this, or if I have changed. Then, of course there is the little matter of the girl he was snogging the other night.
“I know Leo. You’re the best. See you later right? We can talk then.”
“Sure. Love you Caz!”
“Yeah.” I ring off quickly. How did I get to say that to Leo? It was me and Rose’s private thing, and suddenly I’m saying to my best friend like it doesn’t mean a thing. Perhaps The Vultures are right and I’m a head case. My good mood evaporates. Plus Matt hasn’t left any messages.
Speaking of Vultures there is a message from one of them on the house answerphone;
“Hallo Caroline. Just Sue, calling to check everything is alright? I have a space in my schedule for next Friday, that’s the twenty-first, if you would like to come in at 12:30pm, I can give you an hour? Look forward to hearing from you!”
Chirpy, always smiley happy Sue Camden, aka one of The Vultures. She’s my counsellor, and I’m going to have an urgent appointment elsewhere next Friday. She’s persistent I’ll give her that. I must have missed at least half my sessions this time around. When Dad died I was younger, so Mum accompanied me to the counselling, meaning I actually had to go.
Checking my watch I see smiley Sue should be tormenting someone else at this present moment so I ring and leave a polite message, informing her I would adore to come and ‘explore my emotions’ as she puts it, but I have a doctor’s appointment. I do actually, the hospital want to check my leg and remove that horrible plasticky burn dressing. Putting one over on a Vulture always makes me childishly satisfied.
By the time I log onto LiveWire I’m buzzing again, and clutching a hot mug of coffee like it’s going to rescue me from my low mood. As I thought, the message from Kelly has an emoticon next to it – a little face blowing a raspberry, which, according to the forum rules means she has issued a challenge and because I’m a member I have to accept it, or lose a star. Bugger that! I’ve only got one star, although I am assuming she doesn’t know that, and Kelly is annoying me with her brash Americanisms and blustery self confidence. My message box is full of hey I did this, that, jumped off a cliff, dated a movie star etc….
Of course I’m not totally stupid, I bet she made half of it up, but as she lives in L.A. I can’t prove anything. Even the supposed videos and photos of her are so shadowy they could be anyone. I take a gulp of coffee, and study her forum picture. Unlike a lot of people, who have symbols, or pictures of cloudy skies, cartoons and other naff stuff, she has an actual photo of herself. Tanned, blonde, blue eyes, and California girl white smile, she is almost like an L.A. version of my sister, with the same crazy energy emitting from her picture.
Scowling at her I message back:
‘Off to pick up my next star on sat…..catching u up!’
She comes right back with:
‘omg it’s a hard one – good luck.’
Stopping myself from typing ‘whatever’ I notice it’s past six, and I’m going to be late for Leo. A quick look at Rose’s past messages for clues to this chicken dare, and I’m snagged by one photo she posted early on. About two years ago, when she joined, she put all this information about herself, including this picture of me and her horse riding. She is twisted in the saddle, confident, careless. I am crouched forward, one hand gripping the mane of my dopey looking piebald pony. Mum took the photo and I remember her yelling at us to wave and say cheese. It was all I could do to stay on let alone raise a hand.
The contrast between us is even more pronounced than usual, and despite my lateness, I study it for a long time, before hastily logging off, taking the stairs two at a time and swinging round the banister (ouch).
To save time I find myself grabbing my bike from the garage. The pedals are entangled with Rose’s but I yank it impatiently, until hers crashes to the ground and mine comes free with a jerk.
I look for a split second at Rose’s six speed blue mountain bike, and then carefully prop it against the concrete wall, stroking a gentle hand over the dusty plastic saddle. We were riding our bikes to college for my first day of A-levels. Rose was off to the sports centre to hang out with Ashley afterwards. She managed to leave school at sixteen and nab her first modelling job a week later. But that was just Rose.
This is the first time I’ve ridden my bike since she died, and I force myself to concentrate on the road ahead. Mr Watts is out washing his car again. He smiles at me, and I go to ignore him, then think what the hell, he’s an old man. I wave and he looks surprised for a moment, then beams, wrinkles disappearing into wrinkles, literally glowing with pleasure. Jeez, wish I had that effect on most people. Like my boyfriend for instance.
It niggles me that we haven’t actually talked about the fact we are ‘going out’, he hasn’t called me his girlfriend. We haven’t been to any parties together. Maybe, I think with a bit of paranoia he’s ashamed of me. Plus he hasn’t text me yet today. Snap out of it I tell myself crossly, you have a clingy best frie
nd, you don’t need a clingy boyfriend as well!
I round the corner by the bridge, pedalling more slowly, reaching in my pocket to touch Rose’s picture, and ride straight into a girl.
“Oh god I’m sorry!” I swerve, wobble and crash in my ineffective efforts to avoid her.
“You stupid cow. Look what you’ve done!”
Of all the people I could have run over, it’s Anita. Typical. Her orange mini dress is streaked with bike oil, and I am mortified. Not least because I have just fallen off in front of the biggest bitch in town, and am struggling like a kid to get up and right my bike.
“Look sorry okay! I’ll…I’ll buy you a new one.”
She narrows her weasily little eyes at me. Why do all the boys fancy her? “Only kids’ ride bikes Caz. Most people drive.” Ouch, a dig at me still not having passed my test.
“Why aren’t you then?” I ask her innocently, rubbing my arm, straightening the handlebars.
Anita flips a mirror from her black patent bag, checking her reflection, scrubbing at her dress with annoyance. “Forget it. You couldn’t afford to buy designer anyway.” She looks at me curiously, “Are you seeing Matt?”
Go for it Caz, “Yes, Yes I am. Problem?”
She smirks, “None. I’ve already had him. He’s a rubbish kisser isn’t he? All these skater boys are. Think they’re so hot…”
I study her for a moment, unruffled, just knowing she is lying, “Why do you hang around after them then?”
“Oh,” she gives a big fake yawn, “It’s just so boring around here. I’m going to uni next week, so I guess I won’t see you again. No loss.”
“You’re right. It’s no loss, but don’t worry about me, I’m off to art school, St Martin’s. And the bike? It’s not just for kids, I’m doing an ultra triathlon in February. The one at Higham?” why did I say that, when I have no intention of emulating my big sister. The athletic thing was her dream.