The Switch Up

by Katy Cannon

  Handing over our tickets at the entrance, we were directed through the stalls to our seats. Mabel was engrossed in the programme, so I gazed around, taking in the theatre and the theatregoers and…

  I’d know that orange jacket anywhere.

  Just a few rows in front and half a row over sat Vincent Paloma. Star of stage and screen, director of drama summer camp, and one of the few people in London who would absolutely, definitely know that I was Willa, not Alice.

  My heart raced as I watched him take his seat, his partner beside him.

  Any moment now he was going to turn round and see me. I swallowed hard, my cheeks hot and my hands clammy.

  Any moment… Now.

  Vincent started to turn and I did the only thing I could think of. I hid.

  “Alice? What are you doing down there?” Mabel peered at me as I scrabbled on the floor by our seats.

  “Um, just dropped my phone. I was putting it on silent and it slipped out of my hand.” I carefully got back up and sat in my seat, keeping my hair across my face. After a few moments, I risked a peek through my hair and saw that Vincent had sat down again, facing the stage.

  As long as he kept his focus on the play, I’d be fine.

  Finally, the lights in the theatre started to dim, and my shoulders relaxed. I was safe until the interval, at least.

  By the time the lights went up again for the interval, I still wasn’t sure what the play was about, but I did at least have a plan.

  “Do you want an ice cream?” Mabel asked.

  Perfect. “Yes, please. I’m just going to pop to the loo.”

  Queues for theatre toilets are always ridiculous, so I was still standing outside in the hallway waiting my turn when Vincent entered the bar from the other side. My eyes widened as I realized he was heading my way – which was when I spotted the table full of drinks with name cards next to them. In particular, the one that said ‘Paloma’ on it.

  Well, if he spotted me, I could talk to him as Willa, get away as quickly as possible.

  It would still be absolutely fine.

  Or it would have been if Mabel hadn’t suddenly popped up, just as Vincent caught sight of me and smiled.

  “I don’t have any cash on me, but apparently I can get ice cream from the bar with a card,” Mabel said. “So I’m just going to—”

  “Actually, I’m still full from dinner,” I said, turning quickly so my back was to Vincent Paloma. “Let’s get back to our seats. I think the play’s about to start again.” I started bustling Mabel towards the door back into the main theatre.

  “Did they ring the bell already?” the woman in front of me in the queue asked, blocking our path. “I didn’t hear it.”

  “I think I did,” her companion said. “Or maybe it was my hearing aid.”

  “I didn’t hear it,” Mabel complained, but I gave her another nudge towards the door anyway. “Are you sure you don’t want ice cream?”

  “Absolutely sure. And that was definitely the bell,” I said, loud enough that the whole queue could hear.

  That was all it took to get everyone moving. All grumbling about theatre toilets and short intervals, suddenly everyone was abandoning the queue, downing interval drinks, and pushing their way past everyone else – and, most importantly, getting between me and the man who might have blown my cover.

  My phone started vibrating in my pocket, but I ignored it. Probably just a text from Alice, anyway, about that road trip she and Luca had been planning. She could fill me in later. I still had the second half of the play to get through.

  And I didn’t even get any ice cream.

  After stopping for pig-related delays, we missed the final bus home and Mattias had to drive to Lunice to collect us. He raised his eyebrows at the state of me but he didn’t ask any questions. I thought this was a good thing, until I realized he was just leaving it to Sofia to grill us about later.

  Luca and I stuck to our story, though. We’d cleaned off the worst of my clothes in the bus-station toilets, so while I still looked a mess, we figured we might get away without having to claim we’d visited another farm. Instead, we just told Sofia that we’d lost track of time, and our phones had both lost signal. Which was sort of true.

  The worst part was that Luca’s grandparents had already gone by the time we got home.

  “They said they’d try to come back tomorrow,” Sofia said, with a sigh and a meaningful look at Luca. “So you’d better get a good night’s sleep.”

  He just nodded, then headed for his room.

  Sofia turned and headed back into the kitchen. She hadn’t told me to go to bed exactly, so I followed.

  “We really are very sorry.” I boosted myself up on to one of the kitchen stools, watching as she made herself her customary evening peppermint tea.

  “I know.” She sighed again. “It was just … unfortunate it happened to be today. And that Luca’s grandparents didn’t give us any notice that they were coming.”

  I frowned. “Why did they come, exactly?”

  Sighing, Sofia pulled out a stool and sat down at the counter, her cup of tea steaming in front of her. “With fostering… I take in the children while they need me. Sometimes their parents aren’t capable of looking after them any longer, sometimes they just need some time to get things together again. Sometimes there are no other relatives, and sometimes relatives come forward and offer to help.”

  “Is that what happened this time?” I asked.

  Sofia waggled her head from side to side, half yes and half no. “Originally we hoped that Luca and the others would be able to go back to their mother, sooner or later. But eventually it became clear that wouldn’t be an option.”

  I wanted to ask why, but I knew it wasn’t Sofia’s place to tell me that story.

  “Their grandparents live in England. They looked after them on and off when they were younger, I believe,” Sofia went on. “In between other respite and foster care. But then when their parents split up, and their mother moved them back to Italy with her, they lost contact for a while.”

  “That must have been hard,” I said.

  “Anyway, the authorities eventually managed to get in contact with them through the British social services, to see if they might be able to live with them full time. But they were about to leave the country, on an extended trip to stay with relatives in Australia. Celebrating their retirement, I believe.”

  I was starting to get a bad feeling about this.

  “But they’re back now?” I asked.

  Sofia nodded. “And they decided to come and see the children. Without warning, without giving me time to prepare them.” She sounded far more annoyed than she had when Luca had been there.

  “To see if they can go and live with them again? In Britain?”

  “Yes.”

  Did they even want to? Luca loved it here, I knew. Rosa adored Sofia and Mattias. And even Antonio… Sofia had taken him to London to look at universities. She’d helped him plan his future.

  Why would they want to go?

  “Willa…” Sofia sighed again, before pulling out her phone. “Are you happy here? I thought that you were enjoying your summer, but…”

  “I am!” I jumped in quickly. “Really, Aunt Sofia, this has been the best summer. Today was just a mistake, that’s all.”

  “I wasn’t talking about today.” She turned her phone screen towards me, and I stared at it, trying to understand what I was looking at.

  Willa’s Instagram feed. With a photo of London, and a caption saying she wished she was there.

  #italianhell

  Willa!

  I tried to imagine what excuse Willa would make. “Oh, that?” I gave a weak laugh. “I didn’t know you were on Instagram or I wouldn’t have posted it.”

  “But that’s how you feel, isn’t it?”

  I shook my head. “Not at all. I was just … trying to get at my parents. You know, for sending me here without asking, when I was supposed to be at a theatre course in London.
Even though I’m loving being here with you… I’m still a bit mad at them both.”

  Sofia didn’t look entirely convinced. “You’re sure?”

  “Very.” I gave an enthusiastic nod. Then, I wrapped my arms round her, hoped she couldn’t smell pig poo, and hugged her. “Really. Thank you for having me this summer. I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.”

  And then I went for a shower before bed.

  “How long has it been since you’ve seen your grandparents?” I asked Luca the next morning, as I sat on the wall by the donkey stables, watching him feed Achilles and Hercules. We were both under instructions to stay within earshot and keep clean today.

  “Years.” Luca flashed me a grin. “Honestly, I’m not even sure Rosa remembers them. After we came home to Italy … we never saw my father’s side of the family again.”

  I finally summoned the nerve to ask. “Where’s your dad?”

  Luca shrugged. “He … left. Eventually. Mum would never say where he went. Maybe his parents will tell us.”

  He was playing it pretty cool, but there was a thread of something – anticipation, I suppose – in everything he did that morning. He couldn’t stay still, rushing from animal to animal with food and water, brushing the donkeys, always keeping his hands busy. As the morning wore on, the excitement only grew.

  And so did the bad feeling in the pit of my stomach.

  I didn’t want to get in the way of this family reunion. More than ever, I knew it wasn’t my place to be there today – even if I really had been Sofia’s niece. So I hid up in my room as soon as Mattias called from the olive grove to say that their car had just turned into the driveway. Of course, it just so happened that my room looked out over the front of the house, so I was able to stand at the window and watch as Luca’s grandparents climbed out of the car.

  They were younger than I’d expected, given that they had a seventeen-year-old grandson in Antonio. They were dressed smartly, but their shoulders were stiff, and when Rosa jumped forwards to hug her grandmother it took a long moment for the woman to hug her back.

  Antonio shook hands with them both, and Luca followed suit – although I suspected he wanted to behave more like Rosa had.

  I let the curtain fall, and pulled out a book to keep me occupied during the visit.

  Ninety minutes later, I heard their car pull away again. Cautiously, I made my way down the stairs to where I found Rosa sobbing in Sofia’s arms in the kitchen. Antonio, stony-faced, walked past me and out of the back door. I heard the familiar thud of the axe as he cut firewood. Luca was nowhere to be seen.

  “What happened?” I whispered to Mattias, as he shut the kitchen door.

  He shrugged. “Apparently they discussed it all last night, after their visit yesterday. They decided that don’t have space for three children in their lives.”

  “Is this because Luca and I were late home?” Was this my fault? Had taking me to that stupid waterfall ruined Luca’s chances of getting his family back?

  But Mattias shook his head. “I don’t think so. I think they’d already made their minds up before they even made it into the country.”

  They hadn’t come to be reunited. They’d come to say goodbye.

  Poor Luca. I couldn’t imagine how he must feel. He’d been so panicked about missing them yesterday, and now…

  Would he blame me? Part of my brain spun with the worry, but I pushed it aside. None of this was about me. It was about my friend. And I had a feeling he might need me.

  And so I headed out to find Luca.

  It took me a while; I tried the donkeys first, then the olive grove, before I realized he’d already told me where he’d be. His favourite hiding place.

  Wishing I’d brought snacks, I made my way up to the village, to the section of the old wall where we’d eaten gelato on my first day in Italy.

  Luca sat huddled against the wall, not looking out at the sea, not eating gelato, and not looking at all like the excited boy he’d been that morning. I lowered myself to sit beside him.

  “Want to talk about it?” I asked softly.

  Luca shook his head. “What is there to say? They don’t want us. Same as everyone else.”

  My heart hurt for him. And I thought I’d been abandoned by my dad, while he worked this summer. That was nothing like what Luca was going through.

  “This is why I couldn’t shout it all out at the waterfall,” he said angrily. “I can’t let go. I have to remember everything that’s happened to me. All the people who’ve let me down. My dad, taking everything out on my mum until Antonio stood between them. He left when I called the police. And Mum… She couldn’t cope. She chose escape over us too. She checked out of everything. Apparently she’s in some rehab place now… And now those people today.”

  “They don’t deserve you,” I said fiercely.

  “What about what I deserve, Willa?” Luca asked, looking up at me. “And Rosa and Antonio?”

  There wasn’t anything I could say to that.

  “I have to remember,” he said again. “That way, it’ll hurt less next time it happens.”

  I wanted to cry for him, for everything he’d been through.

  He’d taken me to the waterfall. He’d helped me let go of all the things that were holding me back. And I wanted so badly to be able to do the same for him.

  “It’s not about forgetting,” I said, thinking of my mum. “It’s about moving forwards.”

  “What is there for me to move forwards to, though?” Luca asked. “I’m unwanted, remember?”

  “Sofia wants you. And Mattias.” And me, I wanted to say. But I’d be leaving soon. And I wasn’t even the person he thought I was.

  “Do they? Maybe they just want the money they get for looking after us.”

  “They want you,” I said firmly. “Or they wouldn’t make you such an important part of their family.”

  “But we’re not, are we?” Luca looked up at me, his eyes bright with tears. “None of us. We’re not their blood – not the way you are. You’re Sofia’s niece, you belong here. We’re just visiting.”

  I felt cold at his words. I wasn’t blood. But how could I tell him that now?

  “That makes it more important. They chose to have you here. Chose to let you into their lives – not because you’re related to them, but because they wanted you here with them. That matters a lot more than blood.”

  And it did, I realized. So I wasn’t really Willa Andrews, but I was the person who Luca had spent the summer with. Had made friends with. Had comforted and talked to the night of the festival. Had taken to Cascata della Fuga. Had chased pigs with.

  And I would help him get through this too.

  “They’re idiots if they don’t want the three of you with them,” I whispered. Then I jumped to my feet. “Come on. I’ll buy you a gelato.”

  The next week was manic. When we weren’t at the theatre, rehearsing and working on sets and costumes, I was practising my lines with Hal in coffee shops and parks across London, while we stayed out of Mabel’s way and pretended we were still at science camp.

  Since I was one of the few people performing on my own, rehearsing was a bit more boring for me than the groups doing scenes. Still, I liked being at the theatre, and some of the others asked for my help or advice while they were rehearsing too. Apparently my directorial skills were in high demand after the small group scenes we’d done the week before. (Ours had clearly been the best, so I wasn’t very surprised.)

  I’d also been dragged in to perform in a second scene with Tuppence and Ryan, after Rina had come down with tonsillitis over the weekend, so now I had two parts to prepare for. And I had to deal with Tuppence trying to boss me about.

  “This is my scene, remember, so we do it my way,” she said, the first time I stood in. “We all know I have the best shot at getting a place at that audition, and the last thing I need is you amateurs screwing it up for me.”

  Ryan and I exchanged a look. I got the feeling even he was getting
fed up with Tuppence’s theatrics. And I couldn’t help wonder why she needed this audition anyway – unless her fancy stage school didn’t think she was good enough to put forwards for Heatherside the normal ways.

  I stood back as Tuppence started the scene. I let her get out her first three lines before saying, “And you’re sure you want to do it like that?”

  Things had been going downhill ever since.

  “You could have said no when Vincent asked,” Hal pointed out, as I moaned about Tuppence while we took half an hour out to lounge in St James’s Park on Tuesday afternoon.

  “And miss out on having a second chance to wow the casting agent at the showcase? No, thank you. Besides, Tuppence got all the best scenes.”

  “So, this casting agent,” Hal said. “What are they casting for exactly?”

  “How do you not know this already?” I sat up straight in amazement. “You’ve been at the theatre all week!”

  “And all I’ve heard any of you talking about is how you need your costume to be more flattering, and the lighting isn’t showing off your best side.”

  He had a point. “It’s the casting agent for Heatherside,” I said. “They’re adding a new family to the show, and they’re looking for actors to play two teenage children.”

  “And they’re going to choose from you lot?”

  I ignored Hal’s doubtful tone. “No.” Even if that was what I’d thought from the course message group, before Billie explained. “The casting agent is going to watch our showcase and, if she likes us, she’ll choose the best two or three of us to attend the proper audition for Heatherside the next day.”

  “Huh. And that’s why you did all this? To try to get a part on a soap opera?”

  “Every great acting career has to start somewhere! And anyway, don’t knock Heatherside,” I said “My dad’s an actor on the show, you realize.”

  “Right. Sorry.”

  “That’s OK. But a part in the show would be a great first step on the acting ladder.” I plucked a few blades of grass from the ground beside me, weaving them together.

  “But that’s not the only reason you want it?” Hal asked.