Paper Airplanes

by Dawn O'Porter

  “Yes please, I’ll go home and see my family,” I say to Mrs. Suiter.

  I am excused. I go straight to the hospital.

  As I walk up the corridor toward Nell’s room, I’m not sure if I will go in or not. I can’t possibly go home at 11:30, as Pop would never believe that I have been excused from school. I think I might just look through the glass, check that Nell is OK, then sit in the corridor and read magazines until lunchtime. Then maybe I’ll brave going home and tell Pop I have a headache, and then I’ll get into bed and cry until I have to go to school again tomorrow. I expect this will be my life forever.

  As I approach Nell’s room, the door is open. I hear voices—female voices. Nell is talking to a woman. A young woman, not Nana. The tone is affectionate—I can tell it isn’t a nurse. Then I recognize the voice. It goes through me like honey in my veins. It’s unmistakable. It’s my mother’s voice.

  I stand listening, every part of me vibrating at a million miles per hour.

  “I love you very much, Nell, and I’ve missed you. We’ll all get through this together.”

  It’s her. That dream I had, the one where she had gone into hiding because the police are after her, it was true. My mum is back. Everything is going to change.

  My feet start to run, and I burst into Nell’s room with eyes so wide I can’t see straight.

  “MUM.” It comes out of me so loud that Nell gasps for breath at the shock of it.

  “Renée, what the . . .?”

  The three of us are still. I stand staring at my mother, my eyes slowly adjusting, my breath steadying to a pace that I can cope with. Her face comes into focus.

  “Renée.”

  She walks toward me. Her face looks all wrong. What is wrong with her face? It is wrong, why is it wrong? I start to cry.

  “Renée, Renée. It’s me. Aunty Jo.”

  Three hard blinks later and the reality is almost as good as the dream. Aunty Jo, Mum’s sister, the second most perfect person I have ever met. I throw myself around her—I can’t get close enough. There it is, the smell of Chanel No. 5, leather, and cigarettes. The best smell in the world. She feels like her, smells like her, and sounds like her. For the few minutes that I stand with every part of me as close to her as I can get it, I forget about everyone else.

  “It’s OK, darling, I’m back now. I’m not going anywhere this time.”

  She strokes my hair. When no one has stroked your hair in five years, it feels like they are kissing you right on the heart.

  “How did you know to come?” I ask, my face squashed against her.

  “Nana called me. It’s going to be OK. We will work this all out.”

  Aunty Jo kept me out of school for the next week. Nell came home from the hospital and even though she is still so thin and ill, she sits with us at dinner and we all talk. The conversation is awkward and feels strange for everybody, but at least it’s happening. Pop hasn’t been cutting me down as much over the past few days. I imagine he probably wants to, but maybe being the only man around four women makes him feel a little outnumbered.

  One night at dinner I can tell something is brewing. Aunty Jo is about to tell us something serious.

  “Nell, Renée, there is something we need to tell you,” she says when we have all finished our homemade chicken in white wine sauce. I feel a rush of fear as I prepare for her to tell us she is leaving again.

  “I have spoken to your father,” Aunty Jo says gently.

  Nell stands at attention. Part excited, part ready to attack.

  “We spoke for a long time, and Nell, he and I think that it would be a good idea for you to go and stay with him,” Aunty Jo says, occasionally glancing at Pop as if to control him.

  Nell’s face changes shape. Her sunken skin plumps up and everything moves upward as she smiles like I haven’t seen her smile for years.

  “Really?” she says, wide-eyed.

  “Yes. Dr. Brehaut says she is happy for you to go, but you will have to see a doctor there. If all goes well, then maybe you can look into the local schools in Spain. If your father and you feel that the right thing would be for you to stay,” Aunty Jo says, nodding at Pop to encourage him to say something,

  I look at Pop. He keeps his eyes on his plate. A reluctant nod expresses his agreement. “It is only right that you should be with your father,” he says, like he’s being squeezed. “If it doesn’t work out, you can always come back.”

  “It will work out,” says Nell with such conviction that I know she will never live with us again. She scoops some chicken onto her fork and confidently eats it. She has what she wanted.

  In the midst of everyone’s moment I find myself unable to feel happy. “What about me?” I ask, bracing myself for a barrage of comments about how I always think about myself.

  “You’re going to live with me,” says Aunty Jo. “I’m moving back to Guernsey permanently.”

  I look at Nana. Her eyes are full of tears, but she is smiling. Pop nods as he continues to stare at his plate.

  “Really? With you? When?” I ask, so happy I could scream but too aware of Nana’s feelings to dare.

  “As soon as I find us a house,” Aunty Jo continues. “I’m looking at some over the next few days. Seeing as I have persuaded school to excuse you for a week, why don’t you come with me? It will be your home, after all. You have to like it.”

  I nod so enthusiastically that I burp. Everyone laughs.

  Later on I am sitting in my room with the door open reading Smash Hits when I hear someone coming up the stairs. I quickly throw the magazine on the floor, open my science textbook, and sit up straight. Pop walks past my room and goes into the bathroom. I don’t look up. A few moments later he comes out, and just after he passes my door he stops. I feel nervous. He turns back and comes into my room. He has not been in here with me since the moment he pulled me away from Mum, minutes before she died.

  The memory of it floods back like it was yesterday, and when I look at him I know he is thinking the same thing. For a moment we look at each other as if that is enough to express how we are feeling, but it isn’t. I jump off my bed and run into his open arms.

  “You are just like her,” he says as he sobs into my hair. “You are just like her.”

  The next few days of house hunting are so much fun. In between viewings, Aunty Jo and I go to nice cafés, and she even takes me into town to buy some new clothes. I feel like my head is gradually getting together.

  “Where will you work now that you’re back?” I ask as we sift through the rails in Pandora.

  “I’ll work it out. The only good thing that came out of the last few years is a nice divorce settlement. I’ll be OK for a bit.”

  “Why did you leave Uncle Andrew?” I ask cautiously.

  “Let’s just say I finally admitted to myself that he didn’t love me as much as he should have.”

  “What do you mean, finally? You mean you always knew?”

  “Yup. Ever since I met him I had to fight for his attention, prove to him that I was worthy of him. It shouldn’t be like that. People either love you or they don’t. You can’t force it on someone. I knew as I walked down the aisle toward him that he would never love me like I loved him. If I had been honest with myself about that back then, then the last five years of my life would have been very different. But hey, you live and learn, right?” Aunty Jo says with a shrug.

  “Right,” I say.

  And there it is. My biggest remaining problem ironed out, giving me the moment of clarity that I have been waiting for. Julian will never want me—he made that perfectly clear at the garage. I either lose my best friend trying to make him, or I concentrate on the person I care about the most. I have to tell Flo the truth and save our friendship. It’s the most important thing. Julian isn’t worth losing Flo over. I just hope I’m not too late.

  FLO

  As I walk to school I wonder if today will be the day that Renée comes back. It’s only been a week, but Tudor Falls feels empty
without her. Renée is the one who brings everyone together. Without her, people just get on with school. I’ve missed her so much.

  When I walk into the classroom, Sally is already at her desk.

  “Oh, morning, Flo. How are you?” she asks cheerily.

  What’s she playing at? She is being nice. I don’t like it.

  I open my desk. She has put a Wagon Wheel in it.

  “I know they’re your favorite. I have a multipack in my bag. You can have one every day this week if you like.”

  What? No lecture about how chocolate makes me spotty? What is going on?

  She smiles at me. A freakishly wide smile showing no teeth. She is scaring me.

  “Sally, why are you being like this?” I ask suspiciously.

  “What? Can’t I give my best friend some chocolate?”

  “You are not my . . .” I think better of carrying on. I can’t be bothered to go through it again. The unfortunate rule that we are not allowed to change seats in our form room means that I have to be next to her for twenty minutes every morning during attendance. After that I can avoid her all day. I take a deep breath and sit tight. I can cope with her for twenty minutes, just. Miss Anthony comes in.

  “Good morning, everybody. Ah, and good morning, Renée. Welcome back.”

  I turn around. Renée is standing at her desk. She looks happier. I smile and will the next twenty minutes to go really quickly so I can tell her how much I’ve missed her. As I gather my books for the morning’s classes, a note hits me on the head. Sally sees it but ignores it. Finally we have progress.

  I’ve missed you. We need to talk. Can we meet after school?

  R x

  I reply immediately.

  I missed you tooooooo! I’ve been so worried ab

  A gasp from the back of the room makes me stop writing and look up. Miss Anthony has pulled down the blackboard and on it, in large chalky letters, I see the words “Dear Julian.” My eyes fixed on the board, I continue to read.

  Dear Julian,

  The night I met you I’d found Flo passed out at Gem’s house about to have her period all over the floor. I had to stuff loo roll into her pants and then pretty much carry her home. It was gross, but when I saw you I didn’t mind anymore. I wouldn’t have met you if she hadn’t gotten so wasted.

  Then that time in the kitchen when you kissed me, and you touched me the way that you did, I think that’s when I fell in love with you. I kept making excuses to come to your house after that.

  And then that night when I lied to Flo about feeling ill and we had sex in your car, that was one of the worst and best nights of my life. But I worry that I wasn’t good enough, that I didn’t do it right. I worry about all the blood. My white jeans were stained so badly I had to throw them away. I know that might have put you off, but please give me another chance. Maybe Flo never needs to know?

  “OH MY GOD! My jeans!!” screeches Gem from the back of the class. “My mum is going to flip out!”

  I feel like a piano is stuck in my throat.

  “Is this a joke?” I say, standing up and rising above Sally, who is sitting at her desk. I’ll make her tell me this isn’t true if it’s the last thing I do. She hands me a piece of paper. My eyes go straight to the end.

  I know you will think I’m too young to say this, but I think I love you.

  Renée

  I’d recognize Renée’s writing anywhere. I stare at the letter. I have to remind myself to breathe.

  “OK, ladies, let’s all keep calm. Sally, did you make this up?” asks Miss Anthony.

  All eyes turn to Sally. Every single person in the room is expecting her to admit to making this up. Everyone knows she is capable of it.

  “No, no, she didn’t,” I eventually say, turning to Renée. “I have the letter here in my hand. It’s true. Renée wrote this.”

  I watch Renée fall into her seat and drop her head into her hands.

  “I don’t feel very well, Miss Anthony,” I say like a zombie. “Can I go home?”

  Miss Anthony thinks for a few seconds and then excuses me. I bolt for the door and run all the way home, where I shut myself in my bedroom and pull the duvet over my head. I never want to go back to school, ever ever again.

  RENÉE

  I wait outside the toilet stall.

  “Come out, Sally. The least you can do is face me after what you just did to Flo.”

  The door flies open.

  “What I did to Flo? Um . . . I think you’ll find you did that all yourself,” she says, strutting past me.

  She goes over to the sinks and stares at her spiteful face in the mirror.

  “How did you get the letter?” I ask, trying to keep my cool. “It was in my bedroom. How did you get it?”

  “You’ll never know,” she says smugly.

  “Tell me, Sally, how did you get it?” I push, really trying to stay calm.

  She laughs. An evil laugh, the kind that a baddie in a cartoon would have. I reach forward and grab the back of her hair.

  “Maybe your mental, anorexic sister gave it to me?” she says, acting like it doesn’t hurt.

  I automatically pull harder.

  “Tell me, Sally. How did you get that letter.”

  I pull more of her hair. I swear I won’t let go until she tells me how she got it.

  “Why should I tell you any—”

  I twist the final twist before we both know the entire handful of hair is coming out.

  “All right, all right. Let go, I’ll tell you,” she says, before I give her a bald patch.

  I release my hand. A few strands of her hair remain wrapped around my fingers. She reorganizes herself in front of the mirror.

  “Your gran’s a bit thick, isn’t she?” she says calmly.

  “What?”

  “Your gran. I went round to your house. I was going to warn you off Flo, tell you exactly how I feel about you stealing my best friend, but you weren’t there. Next thing I know I’m sitting at your gran’s dirty kitchen table, eating crap biscuits and drinking tea that tasted like stale water. She was banging on about your aunty, what a special person she is, and about how she was out with you looking for a new house, like I cared. I got so bored I asked to go to the loo. When I saw your bedroom the temptation was too much, even for a person with as much self-control as me. I opened your bedside drawer and, presto, the last six months played out on paper. The way you stole Flo from me right before my eyes, the entire lie on paper. Her notes to you were so pathetic. I’ve never had a friend like you. I didn’t know girls like you existed. What are you, lezzers?”

  “No, we are friends. Proper friends.”

  “Ha, that’s a joke. She’s totally disillusioned by you. I read through all her drippy, soppy notes to you and I found the one you had written to Julian. Right in amongst her fantasy was your big fat lie.”

  The idea of Sally reading those notes—being in my bedroom—in my house—talking to Nana—is horrible. I feel totally invaded, and even though I have known her for all these years I’m still shocked by how evil she really is.

  “So I took it. Something that beautiful can’t go to waste. Finders keepers and all that.”

  She goes to walk away, but I pull her back toward me. I am possessed by such extreme anger that the whole thing feels like a dream. I drag her by her hair into a stall, push her head down into the toilet bowl, and flush.

  “You did WHAT?”

  Even Aunty Jo is struggling to see how I am going to get out of this one. We are in the kitchen cooking dinner that night and trying to keep our voices down so Nana and Pop don’t hear us from the living room.

  “I was so angry. I couldn’t bring myself to punch her in the face, so bog-washing was the next best thing. Now everyone knows about me and Julian, and Flo will never forgive me. I lost it, I totally lost it. And now Gem’s mum is going to kill me for ruining the jeans, and everyone knows about how I stuffed loo roll in Flo’s pants, and Flo will hate me for that as well, even thoug
h I was just trying to help,” I say slightly hysterically.

  “I’ll call Gem’s mum and explain about the jeans. You just focus on Flo,” Aunty Jo says, giving me a reassuring look.

  The doorbell rings.

  “Here, keep your eye on the rice, and I’ll get the door,” she says as she goes to the front door.

  I hold a wooden spoon in my hand and stare at the rice. A pan of chili is bubbling next to it, but I don’t think I could manage even the smallest mouthful. Aunty Jo comes back in. Miss Anthony is with her.

  “Turn the heat off for a minute, Renée. Miss Anthony needs to talk to us.” Aunty Jo pokes her head into the living room. “It’s OK, Mum, it’s someone for me.” She shuts the door behind her and joins Miss Anthony and me at the table. I brace myself for a good telling-off.

  “What you did to Sally was very dangerous, Renée. People have been drowned that way,” Miss Anthony says with a very serious face.

  I nod.

  “Sally was wrong to write your personal letter on the blackboard, though. What she did was very cruel. That infringement of your personal feelings is understandably going to be very upsetting, and I do appreciate that, but to push her head into a toilet and flush it really was a very extreme reaction.”

  I nod again. Aunty Jo looks at me as if she still can’t believe I did it.

  “Sally’s mother has made an official complaint to the school about the incident, and we have had to act accordingly,” says Miss Anthony. “I am sorry to have to tell you this, Renée, but we have no choice but to suspend you until the exams start.”

  “Is that completely necessary?” asks Aunty Jo, shocked.

  “I’m afraid so. We can’t be seen to have any sort of tolerance for this sort of behavior. Do you understand that, Renée?”

  I nod again.

  “I want you to know that I don’t take what Sally did to you and Flo lightly either. I believe that you were provoked, and I have insisted to Miss Grut that Sally is also punished for her behavior, and also suspended.”

  “What about lessons? Won’t Renée miss out on important work for her exams?” Aunty Jo asks.