All Mates Together

by Cathy Hopkins

  Dad was waiting for me as arranged, but there was no sign of Emma.

  ‘She’s happy with Jen at home,’ Dad told me as he drove us towards the Rame Peninsula, ‘where we’ve got a bit of a surprise waiting for you.’

  ‘A surprise. What?’

  ‘Ah, it wouldn’t be a surprise if I told you, would it? You’ll see.’

  My imagination went into fast gear as I tried to guess what it might be . . . A cat. We’d always talked about getting a cat someday and I knew that Jen was an animal-lover. It was probably most definitely a cat. Or two. Kittens. Fab. I spent the rest of the journey making up names for them. Ben and Boris, if they were boys. Or maybe Buster. Princess and Duchess, if they were girls. No wonder Emma hadn’t wanted to come and meet me. She was probably playing with the kittens.

  As soon as I walked through the front door, I looked for signs of the cat – but nothing. Ah, I thought, they’ve probably hidden everything away so that it really is a surprise.

  I looked for Emma and found her watching TV in the living room and sitting on Jen’s knee.

  I held out my arms for her, as usually if I had been away, even if only for a few hours, she would run and cling to me as if I’d been away forever.

  ‘Hey, sausage,’ I said.

  She hardly even looked up. ‘Shhhh. Watching telly.’

  Jen smiled at me and rolled her eyes as Emma concentrated on watching some manic cartoon.

  Huh, I thought. So much for her having missed me. At that moment, Luke pounced on me and started tying a scarf around my head.

  ‘Wha . . . What are you doing?’ I asked.

  ‘Surprise,’ he said. ‘Come upstairs.’

  So that’s where the kittens are, I thought, as he led me up the stairs and ushered me along the corridor. I must act like I hadn’t guessed, I told myself as I sensed that we were going towards my bedroom. Suddenly he whipped off the scarf. ‘Taaadaaah!’

  Dad, Luke and Joe were standing there, grinning like idiots.

  ‘Do you like it?’ asked Joe, who was looking very pleased with himself.

  ‘Uh . . . ? But where are they?’ I asked as I glanced around the floor.

  ‘Where are who?’ asked Luke.

  ‘The cats? The kittens. Ben and Boris.’

  ‘Cats? Ben? Boris? What are you talking about?’ asked Luke.

  And then I looked up and saw the room properly.

  ‘Uh . . .’ was all that I could say. They’d painted my room pale blue. Three shades. On the ceiling, the walls and the woodwork.

  ‘It was Jen’s idea after she got back from London,’ said Dad. ‘She told us it was your favourite colour so we decided to get it ready for your return. The boys haven’t stopped for twenty-four hours.’

  ‘Uh . . .’ I said again. I wanted to storm downstairs and rage at Jen. How dare she pick the colour for my room? My room. Mine. My first ever space and already it had been taken over by someone else and their choices.

  ‘Do you like it?’ Joe asked, with a worried expression.

  ‘Oh . . .’

  Luke looked so chuffed with his efforts, and Joe looked so anxious to please, and they had both so clearly done it in the hope of making me happy that I hadn’t the heart to tell them that the colour they had picked was the last one I wanted. And in a way, they’d got it right. Blue was my favourite colour. For clothes. Not décor. As I looked around, I saw all my great plans for my red Moroccan room evaporate like water. I felt a huge knot of frustration in the pit of my stomach and wanted to cry.

  ‘SO WHAT ARE YOU going to do?’ asked Becca the next day, after she’d had a good look around my room. Lia, Mac and Squidge had come straight over too, as soon as they heard about the painting fiasco.

  ‘We can repaint it for you,’ said Mac. ‘It’s completely reversible. Between Squidge and me, if we went at it, it would take a day.’

  ‘Although,’ said Lia, who was sitting on my bed flicking through the Moroccan book that Jamie had bought me. ‘I have to say, I think it looks great. The pastel colour does suit the room. It makes it look crisp and airy, and with the right curtains and cushions, it could look fab. I know you had your heart set on hot spice colours but – I don’t think they would have looked right in here. I think they’re more suited to an older house and this one is modern. Red and deep oranges would close the space in. Pastels open it up.’

  ‘What do you want, Cat?’ asked Squidge. ‘It’s your room and I know how important this is to you after having shared with Emma all those years. What do you want? Just say the word and we’ll transform the place.’

  ‘But Luke and Joe would be devastated, never mind the money that Dad forked out for the paint,’ I said.

  ‘I think he’d understand,’ said Lia.

  ‘Yeah right,’ I said. ‘Like he’d be on my side. He only cares what Jen thinks these days.’

  ‘OK, tell Jen,’ said Becca.

  ‘Pfff, her . . .’ I snorted. I had hardly spoken to Jen since I was back. This mess was all her fault. All it would have taken was a phone call to ask if I was OK with it – but no, she hadn’t even thought to ask. She had bamboozled her way into my room, just like she had the rest of the house, and was slowly taking over. All the bonding that had happened up in London had gone out of the window as far as I was concerned, and she was on my ‘to be avoided’ list – something that was proving difficult to do because unfortunately, as her chief bridesmaid, I was supposed to be organising her hen night and had to keep asking her for her girlfriends’ phone numbers and what sort of food and drink she wanted. She was in a weird space anyway. Snappy and impatient. Not only that, because of her I was in the doghouse with Dad. Just because I hadn’t fallen on the floor and done the ‘I’m not worthy thank you so much O almighty Jen’ act, he’d called me an ungrateful little madam. Me! What a cheek! I never asked anyone to paint my room. And certainly not blue!

  I reached down under the bed and pulled out the trunk.

  ‘Ohmigod. Your mum’s trunk,’ said Becca. ‘Can we look?’

  I nodded. I had told them what was in there, but this was the first time that any of them had actually seen for themselves, and I noticed Squidge hold back. He knew my mum well and she had always had a soft spot for him. We exchanged a quick look as if to acknowledge that, out of all of them, Squidge understood best what finding the trunk had meant to me.

  Soon the four of them were pouring through the files, photos and diaries, and at one point, Lia’s eyes filled up with tears.

  ‘I can’t bear to think what you must have been through,’ she said. ‘I can’t imagine what I’d do if anything happened to my mum or dad.’

  ‘Me neither,’ said Becca as she came across Mum’s travel file and flicked through. ‘Wow. Seems your mum went all over the place.’

  ‘I know,’ I said. ‘I never even knew. I think she must have given it all up when she got married and had kids. Seeing those notes and diaries from her time travelling was part of the reason that I had my heart set on painting my bedroom in the colours from Morocco. A place we had both visited, even if it was at different times. It would be in memory of her. To let her know that even though we have moved from the old house that she is still my mum and always will be. It was a way of bringing part of her here. Her influence at least.’

  ‘Wow,’ said Mac. ‘That’s such a great idea.’

  ‘So what are you going to do?’ asked Becca again.

  ‘Dunno. But first, tell me honestly, what do you think of the colour scheme?’

  Becca looked awkward. ‘Actually I have to agree with Lia. I like it but now, having heard what you just said, I totally understand why you’d want to use the colours from the places that your mum went. They’re all the colours of the sun, aren’t they? I think you should absolutely definitely paint over the blue now, even if it does look good.’

  ‘Mac? What do you think?’

  ‘Oh God, I don’t know now. You girls are so complicated. What do you want me to think?’

  I lau
ghed. That was such a typical Mac-type response. He was so worried about saying the right thing sometimes. I went to play-throttle him. ‘Mac, give me an opinion or you die!!!”

  ‘OK, OK. Do it Moroccan for your mum.’

  ‘Squidge?”

  ‘I’m with Lia. I think your brothers, or Jen or whoever it was, chose a good colour and you could make it work once you’ve got a few of your things around. I . . . I might have an idea of how it could look totally fab, so let me get back to you.’

  I groaned. ‘Now I really am confused,’ I said. ‘Two for, two against. I don’t know what I think any more. What am I going to do?’

  ‘Live with it for a while,’ said Lia. ‘And in the meantime, don’t get mad or anything or take it out on Jen as I doubt she meant to annoy you. I think she was trying to do something nice for you. You being cross with her is a total waste of energy because it’s not as if it can’t be changed.’

  I do love Lia. She’s so sensible and, after they’d all gone, what she had said about Jen got me thinking. We’d had such a good time in London and now that I’d calmed down a bit, I could see that of course she had meant my room being painted as a nice surprise. And what had I done? Blanked her and acted like a spoiled princess. She wasn’t to know all my plans as I’d never said anything about them to her. She wasn’t to know about Mum or her travels or her trunk. And there was me going on about Dad being the one who doesn’t communicate, when all along it was really me who had been holding back.

  The house felt quiet after Lia, Squidge, Becca and Mac had gone, and I was about to go back up to my room to text Jamie when I heard sniffling coming from the living room. Thinking that it was Joe, Luke or Emma, I went in to see what was the matter.

  Jen was sitting at the table by the open patio doors with her back to me, but I could tell by the way that her shoulders were slumped that she was unhappy about something. She turned when she heard my footsteps and straightened up. I could see immediately by her red eyes that she’d been crying. Oh God, I thought. This is my fault.

  ‘Oh, Cat, I thought you’d gone with your friends,’ she said with an attempt at a smile.

  I shook my head. ‘I’ll join them later. I’ve still got a few things to do in my room. Where’s Dad and everyone?’

  ‘Gone to get some things from the shop,’ she said.

  I went over and sat at the table opposite her and took a deep breath. ‘Jen, I’m sorry. I’ve been a cow.’

  Her face crumpled and she bowed her head. ‘No. No. I’m sorry. I’m so stupid. I should have waited. Checked with you. You’re almost fifteen, of course you have your own ideas for your room. I’m such an idiot. I’ve always been like this. Aries. Always jumping in without looking.’

  I smiled back at her. ‘Hey, don’t forget I’m Aries too. Bummer of a sign when it comes to being careful or taking the slow lane.’

  She half-smiled back. ‘Yeah. Bummer.’

  ‘Is that why you were crying?’

  She twisted her hands. ‘Yes. No. Maybe . . . I don’t know, Cat. It’s all happening so fast and I . . . and I . . .’ She started to sob again and looked so upset that my heart went out to her. I got up and went to sit next to her and put my arm around her. ‘Hey, hey, Jen. What is it? Don’t cry. I can explain why I reacted about the room.’

  As she continued to sob, I told her all about finding Mum’s trunk and her travel diaries, the whole story . . . ‘So that’s why I threw a wobbly,’ I said. ‘But you weren’t to know. I should have told you about it. And the others. It’s me who should be sorry.’

  My explanation only made Jen cry more. ‘Sorry, sorry,’ she said. ‘Don’t know what’s the matter with me today. Least, I do. Oh God, Cat. Can you ever forgive me? I feel worse than ever about it now that you’ve told me about your mum.’

  ‘You weren’t to know. But what about you? Can you forgive me for acting like a spoiled brat.’

  ‘You will never be a spoiled brat, Cat. You haven’t got it in you.’ She took a long sigh. ‘Oh what a mess . . .’

  ‘What do you mean?’ I asked. ‘Is there something else bothering you?’

  Jen’s face crumpled again. ‘Only . . . everything. I . . . I don’t know if I’m ready for all this,’ she gestured round the room. ‘I’m getting married in just over a week’s time and, apart from the dress and the ceremony, nothing is planned. In all the commotion I . . .’

  ‘What? Hey, Jen, it can’t be that bad.’

  ‘But it is. The worst possible thing that could happen has happened. In all the commotion I forgot to confirm the reception date. I thought it was confirmed. I really did. I thought they understood that it was definitely on, but I was supposed to have sent a deposit cheque a month before the date. I didn’t know or didn’t remember them telling me if they did. Apparently they called my old flat, but of course I haven’t been there so they cancelled my booking and gave the rooms to someone else. Oh God. I’ve just been on the phone to them. What am I going to tell your dad? He’s going to think I’m so stupid but – I didn’t know. I thought that it was all sorted. Oh God. I should have checked, though. Stupid, stupid me. My head’s been somewhere else – moving house and painting rooms blue when it wasn’t wanted. It’s all too much, this new chapter. It’s all too much and I don’t think I can cope. I can’t get anything right.’

  I gave her a hug. ‘Well, what did you expect in a new chapter?’

  ‘Everything to be PERFECT!’ she said, and attempted to laugh, but it came out more like a hiccup and I could see that she was really stressed. ‘Oh I don’t know, Cat. It’s not just the fact we have nowhere to have the reception now, it’s also that I don’t know if I’m ready for this new life. Husband. New house. Wedding. I’ll be Mrs Kennedy. Stepmother to four kids – sorry, I didn’t mean to insinuate that you were a kid, but oh, you know what I mean. Stepmother. She’s always the baddie, like in the Snow White story, isn’t she? Anyway, I’m not up to the job. I don’t think I can do it. I’ll be a terrible wife. A terrible stepmother. I don’t think I’ve even grown up yet, and on top of all that I thought you hated me . . .’

  ‘Well, I don’t,’ I said as I gave her a big squeeze. ‘It’s all been new for me too. But you’ll be great, Jen. You are great. We’ll be great. We’ll work it out.’

  Jen sniffed. ‘Do you think?’

  I nodded.

  ‘But look. See. This is proof of how rubbish I am. I’m the grown up and yet here I am being comforted by you. Shouldn’t it be the other way round?’

  ‘Not necessarily,’ I said. ‘Anyway, you’re not my mum and you don’t have to be. I don’t want that.’

  Jen put her hand over mine. ‘I know. I’ve been so aware of that, desperately trying not to overstep the mark. I know I could never take your mum’s place, but I do want to be there for you and Luke and Joe and Emma as well as your dad – that is, if you’ll let me. I want to be here if you need me.’

  ‘And me for you, Jen. I think we can be good friends if we try.’

  We sat for a few moments with our arms round each other and I felt all the warmth that I’d felt in London for her come flooding back. Of course it was a huge move for her. Dad, Luke, Joe, Emma and I had lived together forever, and although we had moved house, it wasn’t as if we needed to get used to living with five new people like Jen had. It had by far been more of a change of life for her and I hadn’t even considered that until now.

  After a while, Jen blew her nose and looked over at me. ‘Cat, do you think . . . do you think I could possibly have a look at what you found in the trunk? I’ve never really seen pictures of your mother as your dad keeps them so private. I know nothing about her and she’s such a major part of all of your lives that I’d like know more about her, who she was, what she was into.’

  ‘Of course,’ I said. ‘I’d love that too. Come on up. And Jen?’

  ‘Yes?’

  ‘Don’t tell Dad just yet about the reception plans falling through.’

  ‘But why not? I have to tell h
im sometime. Maybe we could have it here or something? Get a marquee?’

  ‘Maybe,’ I replied, ‘but I’d like to help. I know the area really well so let me check out a couple of options – that is, if you don’t mind. There’s me being the Aries, jumping in. But I’m sure I could find somewhere for you – and I am the chief bridesmaid after all.

  ‘OK,’ she said, ‘but . . . don’t do anything or book anywhere without talking it over with me first, hey?’

  We both burst out laughing as we realised how alike we were, and I put my hand out to high-five her. ‘That can be the first rule we agree for living together. Always talk plans over before doing anything.’

  Jen high-fived me back. ‘Suits me,’ she said. ‘And by the way, if you want to ask that boy from London to come to the wedding, please do – and any of those new friends of yours. I want you to enjoy the day as much as your dad and I.’

  ‘Thanks, Jen,’ I said, and had to bite my lip from telling her that I’d already asked all of them. I’d taken it for granted that they’d all be welcome. Phew, I thought, us Aries girls really do have to be careful not to leap before we look. Or do anything for that matter.

  We went up to my room and, for the second time that day, I pulled out the trunk. I could tell that it meant a lot to Jen that I was showing it to her, and it felt good to be sharing what I’d found out about Mum and not hiding it away like some dark secret not to be spoken of.

  ‘OH GOD, OH GOD, oh God,’ I groaned to Lia and Becca as I ran round our kitchen getting out glasses, forks, knives. ‘We’ll never be ready in time and it’s my own stupid fault. If I hadn’t acted all Mrs Strop Bottomy with Jen over my room, I’d have had all this organised ages ago.’

  ‘Calm down and stop acting like a headless chicken,’ said Becca.

  ‘Well, it is a hen night,’ I said, and started clucking and flapping my arms as much like a chicken as I could. Lia and Becca cracked up then and began clucking round the kitchen as well, and we were soon joined by Emma, who on hearing the commotion came in to see what was going on and joined in with great enthusiasm.