by A B Turner
“And you,” I added firmly, he looked shyly back at me,
“Yeah, maybe, at least that’s what he said.”
I tried to stifle a yawn but there was no stopping it,
“You’re tired, Chicky, you should be getting to bed, do you need me to stay?” Jim asked kindly.
I shook my head,
“No it’s okay, Cal and I will be fine, Mum will be back in about an hour or so.”
He stood up, finished his coffee and put on his hat,
“Right well, I’ll be on my way then..if you’re sure.”
As he reached for the door handle, I took his hand,
“Thank you, Uncle Jim, I wouldn’t have been able to go, if it wasn’t for you.”
He smiled at me,
“No problem, Chicky, I’m just glad you had a good time.”
I gave him a quick hug and I felt him pat me on the top of my head, before we separated,
“Now you get some sleep, okay? See you tomorrow.”
“I will, goodnight Uncle Jim, see you tomorrow,” I replied wearily, as now it felt as if my eyes were not going to be able to stay open for much longer. After carefully locking the door, I trudged up the stairs and across the landing, pausing only at Cal’s bedroom door. I peeked in and it was pretty obvious he was fast asleep, I could just make out his face resting on the pillow. As I went into my own room, I knew I would be hearing all about his night with Uncle Jim, but for now, I just wanted to focus on the band night. I undressed and clambered under the bedcovers, through the half-open curtains I could see the night sky and a few tiny specks of light radiating from the scattered stars. I closed my eyes and immediately Nick’s face appeared in my mind, those dark eyes looking straight into mine and it was my last thought before sleep finally took over.
I must have been exhausted because I didn’t wake again until I could feel the morning sun on my face, I knew I should probably move but, the truth was, I had no desire to leave the comfort of my bed. I could hear Cal talking to Mum downstairs, she wasn’t saying very much though as he chatted without seeming to need to breathe at all. I stretched out and gazed up at the bright blue sky, I felt warm and completely relaxed, I knew there would be chores waiting for me, so I needed to make the most of these last precious moments of peace. When I finally made the effort to go downstairs, Mum was wiping down the kitchen work top while Cal sat at the table, which was covered with his colouring pencils and several sheets of paper. He looked up as I came in,
“I’m drawing a picture for Uncle Jim,” he began, “But I can’t get Pepper’s legs right.”
“Would you like me to help?” I asked, he shook his head,
“No thank you, I want to do it by myself.”
I smiled at him,
“Well you ask me, if you change your mind, okay?”
He nodded and went back to his picture, I walked over to Mum,
“How was work?” I began, hoping against hope, she would ask me at least one question about my evening. She stopped cleaning and looked at me, almost as if she was expecting to see something, some hint of what might have happened or perhaps even to see if I had changed in some way.
“It was long as always, were you wearing make-up last night?” she asked, “You should clean it off properly, otherwise you’ll be covered in spots.”
I self-consciously touched my cheek, for some unknown reason,
“I’ll remember,” I answered quietly.
“So Jim tells me you had a good time,” she continued, “I hope you didn’t get into any trouble.”
“No, Louise and I were fine,” I replied, “No trouble at all.”
Mum nodded her head,
“Well, that’s something, I suppose, anyway, I’ve left a list on the fridge of what needs doing, I should be getting ready for work.”
I bit my lip hard, as I could feel myself wanting to yell at her and ask, why she didn’t want to know what we did, who we saw, how it felt to be there..I wanted to tell her about my moment with Nick, and yes, I would say, I know it’s stupid to think it meant anything to him but it was one of the most amazing moments of my life. But I knew saying any of those things, in fact, anything at all, was pointless and would only cause another argument, so I kept quiet and she left the kitchen. I looked at the list she had mentioned, I didn’t know why she had bothered to write one, it was always the same, look after Cal, tidy the house and make sure we ate dinner. I wanted to rip up the stupid thing but, again, I took a breath, I knew I didn’t want my bad feelings to overcome the leftover highs from last night. Whatever Mum might want, she couldn’t take those feelings away, so instead of allowing that all too familiar ball of rage to get fed by my resentment, I left it alone. I made myself some toast, sat down opposite Cal and asked him about his time with Uncle Jim.
Chapter Three
Cal and I spent most of the day as we always did, he played while I tried tackling the mountain of dirty laundry and clean the house. It didn’t feel like how most teenagers spent their Saturdays at all, but as Mum never failed to remind me, I wasn’t actually one of them yet As I was ‘only twelve.’ However, while I waited for the first load of washing to finish, I switched on the TV and watched some drama show about high school. The girls all seemed to fall into one of several obvious categories, the smart ones, the nerds, the cheerleaders and the losers. Even though I knew this was pretty ridiculous, I couldn’t help but wonder which group I would fit in, I didn’t feel like a loser, if some of the boys in my class were to be believed, I didn’t know nearly enough about ‘Star Wars’ for nerd qualifications, so that left me with smart or cheerleader. As I passed the hall mirror, one quick glance ruled out the second, so that left me with smart, which I quickly reassured myself – slightly-half-heartedly- could have been worse. As the washing machine reached its deafening climax during the spin cycle, I ambled back into the kitchen, tossed the laundry basket on to the floor and leant back on the counter. No, this was nothing like those shows at all, they were all having dramas, like cheating for the end of year test, worrying about whether some guy liked them or endlessly shopping in huge malls for just the right prom dress. As I pulled the washing out of the thankfully now-silent machine, I tried to console myself with the fact, their lives would be pretty dull too, after a while, how many times could shopping be exciting? I strained to lift the basket, which was now piled high and staggered outside to the washing line. Although there was a strong breeze, it felt like there was enough sun to get the clothes dry,
“How tragic am I that I even know that?” I sighed, not realising, I had spoken out loud.
“Know what?” said a familiar voice, I spun round and there was Cal, head to toe covered in mud,
“Oh Cal!” I exclaimed, “What have you been doing? Look at the state of you!”
He looked down and seemed genuinely surprised at what he saw,
“I’ve just done the washing too!” I continued, trying to contain all the exasperation which was rising up through my body like a burning tide.
He wiped his dirty cheek with his even filthier sleeve,
“Sorry, I’ve been playing in the garden,” he said sadly. I sighed heavily and took him inside,
“Get those clothes off and let’s get you cleaned up.”
For once, he didn’t protest and soon he was safely in the bath while I set the exhausted washing machine back to work for the third time that day. A quick look at the clock told me it was almost lunchtime, so while I searched through the fridge, I called up,
“Are you okay up there? I’m just starting lunch.”
It was some minutes after I pulled out some cheese, tomatoes and bread to make sandwiches when I realised Cal hadn’t replied.
“Perhaps I didn’t hear him over the noise of the washing machine,” I thought aloud as I started buttering the bread, but the nagging doubt wouldn’t leave me alone, so I walked to the bottom of the stairs.
“Cal!” I called again, but there was still no answer, so I made my way up,
“You’d better not be hiding up here, Cal, because I’m not in the mood,” I continued grumpily, silently wishing I was in one of those TV shows with only finding the right way to apply my eyeliner, being my biggest problem. I opened his bedroom door, but there was no sign of him other than an untidy pile of his discarded clothes, I suddenly felt the grip of pure panic. I raced along the landing and flung open the door, there was soapy water all over the floor and, as I looked into the bath, all I could see was Cal’s face and it looked like he was sleeping. My whole body shook as I heaved his small body out of the water, even though he always seemed tiny to me, it felt like I was trying to move a huge weight. We both kind of slumped onto the bath mat, then I quickly flipped over until I could see him properly,
“Cal, come one, wake up, this isn’t funny!” I yelled, gently hitting his cheeks but he didn’t stir, I felt an overwhelming desire to just throw up as the fear inside me threatened to take me over completely. Suddenly through the total chaos of my thoughts, something useful finally beamed through my mind. It was like a re-run of a movie I had once seen, flashed up in my memory, all those classes we had at school when we had gone swimming. They’d be run by that coach, the big woman who both Louise and I were absolutely convinced was some kind of experiment in genetic engineering, as she was allegedly a woman but looked more masculine than any man we had ever seen. For some inexplicable reason, in those desperate seconds her whole lesson came to my mind,
“Don’t worry, you know what to do,” I told myself, trying to find some kind of calm. I pinched Cal’s nose and breathed into his mouth, before trying the chest compressions, the whole time, repeating the coach’s words in my mind. After the first two tries, he didn’t stir and I could almost fear the panic starting to rise again, but then, by some miracle, after the third time, he spluttered and water spurted out of his mouth. I quickly put him into the recovery position and watched, praying to anything I could ever imagine might be listening, he would be alright. He coughed again, more soap and water splashed out on to the floor, I frantically looked down at his face and his eyes opened. The relief was so intense, I couldn’t help but cry and I didn’t care, even though I normally hated crying,
“Are you okay?” I asked weakly, there was another cough,
“I have a funny taste in my mouth,” he replied, his voice hoarse and raspy, “I might need ice cream.”
I laughed, wrapped him in a towel and carried him back to his room, where I dried him thoroughly before getting him dressed,
“What were you doing in the bath, Cal?” I asked as I led him back down the stairs and on to the sofa.
“I was playing deep sea divers,” he replied, “They can hold their breath for ages while they look for sharks.”
My first thought was to say something about how stupid an idea that was, but as I tucked him up under a blanket, I just couldn’t be even slightly mean to him,
“There aren’t any sharks in the bath, Cal,” I said softly, he looked up at me, thankfully looking like his usual self again,
“I know that now,” he answered.
We spent the rest of the afternoon snuggled on the sofa, watching all his favourite cartoons and eating ice cream. At times he slept, which made me feel slightly anxious, so, as soon as I saw his eyes had been closed for longer than about five minutes, I listened to make sure he was breathing. By early evening, he was clearly back to his old self and was happily playing with some toy cars on the lounge carpet, so making sure every door and window were locked, I ran upstairs and cleared up the mess in the bathroom. After checking on him again, I went outside and collected the now-dry washing from the line and brought it inside. I looked carefully around the kitchen, everything was as it should be, I knew the whole house was tidy and so when Mum came home, she would have no complaints. After watching one last show with Cal while we ate a huge pizza, it was time for him to go to bed. I helped him change into his pyjamas and tucked him up, until only his shiny face and mop of curls could be seen. I sat at the end of his bed and read him a story, I could see his eyes starting to close but, a thought wouldn’t allow me to leave him in peace. What would happen if he told Mum about today?
“Cal,” I began quietly, “Can I ask you something?”
“Yes,” he replied sleepily.
“You know earlier, when you were playing in the bath..” I began, “Can we not tell Mum about it?”
He shifted in his bed,
“Why?”
“I just think it would be best,” I answered weakly, wishing I had a much better reason.
“OK,” he said, before rolling over in bed and obviously falling asleep. I left his room, pausing only to kiss him lightly on the forehead and pushing a stray curl from his eyes. I wandered along the landing to my own room and collapsed on the bed, I was exhausted. The looming presence of my school bag containing probably hours of homework didn’t tempt me to move, so I turned away from it and just fell asleep, not even bothering to change clothes.
When I awoke, every part of my body seemed to ache, as if I had been sleeping in the most weird and unusual position all night. I sat up, gingerly rolled my shoulders, stretched my arms into the air, in the hope this might ease some of the pain. I was about to get out of bed when my door burst open,
“What the hell happened yesterday!?” screeched Mum, her eyes blazing with pure fury, I was still half asleep, so it was moments before I realised what could have made her so angry, but I didn’t need to wait long,
“Your brother!” she yelled again, “He says he was diving in the bath and you pulled him out!”
My shoulders dropped,
“Cal,” I said almost under my breath, before I could say anything, she pulled my bed covers off me and dragged me up to face her,
“I don’t expect much from you but is it too much to ask you actually look after him?” she screamed again, her face so close to mine I could feel her breathing.
“I do look after him,” I answered, my voice sounding unbelievably timid.
“So allowing him to almost drown is your idea of child care, is it?” she ranted, “I suppose you were too busy with your own things to make sure he was actually still alive.”
Even though she was scaring me, this last comment felt like a step too far, so I rounded on her,
“My own things! When do I ever have time? I’m always doing what you’re supposed to do,”
As soon as the words left my mouth, the sheer flash of rage they provoked, made me wish I had kept quiet. She glowered at me and before I could do or say anything else, I felt a blistering slap across my cheek, so hard it rocked my whole body back on my heels. Mum stormed towards the door then turned back,
“If you have any sense at all, you will stay in here for the day, I don’t want to see or hear you, understood?”
Her voice was now pure ice.
I said nothing as she left the room, slamming the door behind her.
I slumped down on my bed, the sheer force of her slap made my whole head ring for a few minutes, so I laid down until the feeling passed.
As she had ordered, I spent the whole day in my room, only leaving for a few trips to the bathroom and even then, I tiptoed and tried to be as quiet as possible. I wished I could speak to Louise, but our phone was in the kitchen, and even if I could get down there without being seen, if Mum caught me, I’d be in even more trouble. Hours crawled by, but at least, I caught up with all my homework and even did some extra reading, finally, the door opened again. Mum was standing there, I wondered if she was going to apologise, but that seemed unlikely as she looked at me.
“From tomorrow, you will take Cal to school as usual, you will collect him at the end of the day and,” she paused, “you will spend every minute with him until he goes to bed. There will be no excuses, no reasons, just proper care, do you understand?”
I nodded, wisely choosing not to speak this time.
“Oh and one more thing, there will be no more nights out until I say so, is that also understood?�
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I nodded again, clearly believing her point had been made, she walked back along the landing and I heard her go downstairs. When she was safely out of earshot, I punched my pillow, over and over again, if it hadn’t been for Cal, none of this would have happened, his stupid diving games and his even more stupid big mouth for telling Mum. He wasn’t going to suffer, he never did, it was always me. For some reason, the whole horror of finding him, half-dead, in the bath was now replaced with total frustration, what was going to be different now she’d made up her new rules, nothing at all, because I looked after him all the time anyway. I wanted to kick and scream or do something to release at least some of the burning feelings inside me. I knew I had this ball of rage within me, usually I could control it, but now, fuelled by the sheer injustice of everything, it had completely consumed me. I had to fight the urge to storm down the stairs and yell at her and him, in fact, everyone. After several minutes of pacing around my room like some kind of wild animal at the zoo, I sat down on the edge of my bed, breathing hard and feeling so hot, it was like a fever. It took everything I had to bring some kind of calm to my shaking body, but, at last, some level of peace returned, my heart stopped pounding against my chest and my head stopped feeling as if it was going to explode. I stood up, walked over to the window and opened it wide, the cool night air bringing some kind of respite from all the wild emotions. As I looked out into the night, I could see all the tiny pinpricks of light from the town and they were the biggest relief of all, they reminded me, there was more world than this house and one day, I would be out there. I found it hard to sleep that night, I tossed and turned, my head over-filled with thoughts of either running away, just taking her car and wallet and just going somewhere..anywhere because in those lonely, early hours of the morning, it seemed like the only plan. But when I woke the next morning, even though I was unbelievably tired, I’d had a better idea and I couldn’t wait to tell Louise when I got to school. I went down to the kitchen, relieved Mum had already left for work because I knew I just couldn’t deal with her or her stony silences. I made Cal’s lunch for school, set out his cereal and signed his book diary, all while munching on some hurriedly-made toast. Fortunately, unlike me, Cal had obviously slept extremely well and was in a typically happy mood when he came skipping down the stairs and into the kitchen. Somehow, like always, he managed to eat and talk at the same time, but unusually for him, he did both quickly, which meant we wouldn’t have to rush for the bus. He was still talking by the time I left him at the school gate with the firm reminder, to make sure he waited for me at the end of his day. Once I knew he was safely inside, I rushed to meet Louise as I wanted to try and tell her everything that had happened over the weekend. She sat open-mouthed as I launched into the whole drama of Cal’s bath and obviously my Mum’s reaction, when I finally paused, she was shaking her head in disbelief,