The Family, page 13
‘Standing there as if you haven’t a care in the world!’
‘Mr Collins, I…’ I could feel myself shaking.
‘There you are!’ Shadows fell as I was flanked by Hazel and Saffron. Their shoulders, solid and dependable, pressing against mine. ‘Time to go home.’
‘Home?’ he sneered. ‘In with the freaks are you?’
Saffron ushered me away, but as I glanced back over my shoulder Mrs Collins was staring at me with a strange expression on her face that looked a lot like concern. I think she mouthed ‘Be careful’ but I couldn’t be sure.
‘Are you okay?’ Saffron asked. ‘Alex sent us to find you, he was worried about you.’
‘I’m fine, but thanks,’ I said as we walked to my car. ‘A confrontation is the last thing I needed today.’
‘Safety in threes,’ Hazel said.
‘It’s a power number,’ Saffron sang. ‘I’ll drive your car, Hazel can follow with the Land Rover.’ She held out her hands and I dropped my keys into them. I climbed into the passenger seat, resting my forehead against the window. We stopped at a junction and through the drizzle streaking the windows I spotted Rhianon waiting to cross the road. I cleaned the fog of breath from the window with my sleeve and pressed my palms against the glass. Rain plastered her hair to her scalp and streamed down her cheeks like tears. Our eyes met. The lights turned to green and then we were gone.
As soon as we arrived back at Gorphwysfa I rushed upstairs to call Rhianon, rummaging frantically through my bedside drawer for my mobile. It wasn’t there. I checked again, fishing through the sparse contents. I dragged the cabinet away from the wall in case it had somehow fallen behind it. There was nothing but dust. I sat down heavily on the bed. I could remember charging it earlier that morning. Had I perhaps taken it into town and lost it? It could have fallen out of my bag when I pulled out my purse. I couldn’t remember taking it, but I couldn’t remember not taking it either. My head felt heavy. I was so tired.
There was half an hour before dinner. I didn’t feel like joining the others in the kitchen. In the lounge I perused Dafydd’s collection of books, running my fingers down the dusty spines, easing a copy of George Orwell’s 1984 from the shelf, a novel I’d heard much about but never read. Absorbed in the story, I didn’t realise Tilly was in front of me until she spoke.
‘Hazel’s dishing up.’
I smiled. ‘Are you okay? Good chat with Daisy?’
‘I feel better now, thanks. Sorry about earlier.’ I scanned her face. There was something different about her and initially I thought it was because her features seemed so much more relaxed.
‘Mum, can I talk to you?’
‘About what you said?’ I hesitated. Unsure whether I should bring it up.
‘Umm, yeah. I know you love me.’ She sat cross-legged on the sofa, facing me. ‘It’s just… Dad…’ I waited while she struggled to find the words.
‘It’s stupid but sometimes it feels Dad dying meant he didn’t love me enough to live.’
‘It’s not stupid, Tilly.’ Irrational, I knew, but I had felt the same. I took her hand in mine. ‘He did love you. Very much. As do I.’
Rather than averting her gaze, mumbling a response, she looked directly at me and said, ‘I love you too, Mum. I… I don’t know what I’d do if anything happened to you.’
‘Nothing’s going to happen to me.’
‘But we never know, do we? People get sick. They die. I bet Hazel never thought when she got married her husband would beat her. Or when she had kids she’d end up not speaking to them. Mum.’ Her voice fell. ‘I wish I could be more open. I am trying. Alex is right about unburdening, I could see that today, but…’ She reached for my hand. ‘I couldn’t bear it if we didn’t talk anymore.’
‘Tilly, there’s nothing you could do or say that would make me not love you. Not want to speak to you.’
‘But Hazel…’
‘Hazel’s situation is different. She still loves her children, she just has to put herself first right now. Nothing will come between us, Tills. Promise.’ But my promise was a cold, hard rock in my stomach, wedged between all the things I could never tell her. ‘I love you.’
‘I love you too, Mum.’ She hugged me and I breathed in the scent of raspberry shampoo. I would build us a new life and it wouldn’t be better or worse than what we had lost, but it would be different. And we would be happy.
‘Let’s go and eat,’ I said when I finally let her go.
Dinner was relaxed. The atmosphere lighter as though the sharing circle had brought us all closer. Finally, I was properly part of things. Even when we moved out I would still visit. I was tired but feeling positive. It was only as I climbed the stairs to get ready for bed that it struck me what had been different about Tilly. I vowed to ask her about it when she came up.
I pulled back the duvet and reached for my T-shirt.
I almost didn’t see it at first. The envelope. The whiteness of the paper blending with the whiteness of my pillow case. There was no name written on the envelope. I stared at it long and hard before picking it up, a gut feeling telling me the contents would be painful.
Three words.
Just three words shakily scrawled in black marker.
Don’t trust anyone.
Chapter Thirty
TILLY
The sharing circle had left me feeling tearful and exhausted. Stupid, considering I wasn’t the one who had shared. But, alone in my room with Daisy, I was ready to talk.
‘My dad’s dead too,’ Daisy blurted out as she settled herself cross-legged onto my bed. ‘Sorry, have I shocked you? It’s blunt isn’t it, that word. My mum used to say he was “late” and I always wanted to scream at her, he’s not late. He’s not coming.’
At first I thought about changing the subject, unsure what the right thing to say to her was, but it was awful when people did that when Mum or I mentioned Dad. Quickly breaking eye contact, looking away, edging away like grief was as easy to catch as a cold. My ensuing embarrassment because I’d believed I’d made them feel uncomfortable. Most of all I knew that sometimes I wanted to talk about Dad. Not the sad stuff either.
‘Do you want to tell me about him?’ I asked.
Daisy twirled the end of her plait around her finger before releasing it in a springing curl. ‘I was thirteen. Mum smoked like a chimney. Me and Dad were always begging her to give up. We were terrified she’d get cancer or emphysema or something. In the end it was Dad who fell ill, and when an X-ray showed a tumour on his lungs it seemed…’ Again she played with her hair, twisting it harder around her finger until I could see the tip turn white. ‘Unfair, and I know I sound like a cow but if anyone was going to get sick it should have been Mum. Christ.’ She wiped her eyes with the back of her sleeve. ‘It was ten years ago now. It shouldn’t hurt this much still.’
‘You don’t get over it, you just get on with it,’ I said quietly. ‘I’ve read about grief online but I hoped that bit wouldn’t be true. Like, I’m not going to forget him but, fuck. Ten years, Daisy, and you’re still crying.’ It all felt so helpless. I flopped back against the wall. The cold plaster pressing against my spine.
‘You kind of get used to it but then something will happen and it all comes flooding back. Last month Reed was whistling “Don’t Worry, Be Happy”, and it was like being punched in the stomach. Dad always whistled that to me. I couldn’t catch my breath. Reed was so apologetic when I told him. But then sometimes I have days where I don’t think about Dad at all now, and then I remember I haven’t thought about him and I feel like the worst daughter ever.’
‘I feel like that. I laughed for the first time the other day and then felt terrible, as though I should never laugh again.’
‘He wouldn’t want you to be unhappy. Neither would your mum. You can tell how much she loves you.’
‘Where’s… where’s your mum?’
She shrugged. ‘I dunno. She remarried when I was sixteen. I left home pretty much straight after my exams. We didn’t really get on. After Dad died I endlessly googled cancer and pollution. I resented Mum for smoking, but also for having a mobile phone and Wi-Fi in the house. It’s why I love it here.’
‘Do you think mobiles can cause cancer?’
‘I think everything can cause cancer. It’s disgusting how irresponsible people can be. It makes me so angry.’
I couldn’t maintain eye contact. I had wanted to tell her everything, but if she found out about Ashleigh’s illness she would blame our family for building on a landfill site.
‘I’d better go.’ She unfolded her body from the bed. ‘Alex has asked me to settle the drop-ins.’
She headed to the door. I didn’t want to be left alone with my thoughts. I didn’t want to have to think about Rhianon’s text or how I should answer it.
‘Can I come?’
‘Alex only asked for me but… I guess.’
I hesitated. Unsure if I was wanted. An image of Alex picking me up at school drifted into my mind. He was smiling that smile at me. Mind made up, I followed Daisy out of the room.
All I wanted was one friend. Just one.
It wasn’t too much to ask, was it?
Outside the dorms, Alex was already talking to the new drop-ins. Two boys and a girl with black roots poking through straw-white hair. I hated the way she was looking at Alex.
‘This is Stuart, Andy and Dannii,’ Alex introduced us. ‘This is Daisy and Tilly. They’ll settle you in.’
‘It’s fucking freezing here.’ Stuart glared at me, and I had to stop myself from snapping ‘I’m not responsible for the weather.’
‘We need to share body heat.’ Dannii giggled, inching closer to Alex. My hands curled into fists as she licked her red glossy lips. ‘Where will you be sleeping?’ As she touched his arm my stomach contracted.
‘I’m in a cottage in the woods.’
‘Ooh, aren’t you afraid of wolves? But then you look like you aren’t afraid of anything.’ She squeezed his bicep. His smile slipped a little and I sensed he was embarrassed. I expected Daisy to roll her eyes but instead the muscle in her cheek was tightening over and over, her expression dark.
‘Wolves? This is fucking Wales not Canada.’ Stuart shrugged off his rucksack and scratched his patchy beard that didn’t look half as good as Alex’s. He can’t have been much older than me.
‘I’ll show you where to fetch the wood for the burner,’ I said.
‘We’ve got to fetch our own wood?’ Andy whined. ‘Next you’ll be telling us we’ve got to make our own dinner!’
‘We’re all about reconnecting with nature here, but don’t worry, we’ll be providing a hot vegan meal,’ Alex said.
‘Ooh, vegan. Is that why you’re is such great shape?’ Again the hair flick. Again my fingernails digging into my palm.
‘Let’s get this over with,’ Stuart said. Reluctant to leave Alex, I led him over to the small shelter where the grasses grew tall. Reed was stacking logs.
‘This is Reed,’ I said. ‘He does lots of the odd jobs and stuff.’
‘Hello again. We met at the gate,’ Reed said.
Stuart and Andy ignored him. Talking among themselves.
‘I thought Dannii said glamping. This is totally basic.’
‘Yeah, dude. Don’t think we’ll be staying. If there isn’t anywhere for Dannii to plug her straighteners in, she’ll freak.’
‘Will she, though? Looks like she’s pretty taken with Bear Grylls over there.’
I threw a glance over my shoulder and Dannii was still pressed against Alex, her head thrown back in laughter. Alex was smiling that special smile I thought was mine alone.
My head began to buzz.
‘Are you okay, Tilly?’ Reed asked quietly. ‘Do you need some help with Dumb and Dumber?’
‘I’m fine, thanks,’ I said automatically. But I wasn’t.
Dannii had a hand on Alex’s chest now, thrusting out her own.
Anger flared. Alex was the one good thing in my life. I could taste my jealousy in the back of my throat. Dannii’s grating laughter pealed once more. The sound kick-started my feet. Suddenly I was running full pelt towards them. Screaming, ‘Stop!’
Chapter Thirty-One
ALEX
‘You look like you aren’t afraid of anything,’ Dannii said. Her face faded from his consciousness as memories poked and prodded at him. He’d been in turmoil all afternoon since Laura’s emotional outpouring.
‘Birthdays are a particularly vulnerable time,’ he had said, but he hadn’t solely been talking about her.
Eight today!
Alex couldn’t help feeling excited when he saw the banner draped across the lounge. The clusters of green and orange balloons strung from the bannisters. A fat pass-the-parcel, wrapped in newspaper, rested on one of the wonky camping chairs forming a circle, along with the dining chairs.
He’d never had a party before. Had never been invited to a party before. At his last school he had bowed his head, studied his desk, his shoes, looking anywhere except at the invitations being handed out, knowing his name would never be called. He didn’t know why. Mum always said it was their loss, but on Monday morning when the other kids would huddle in the playground talking about how great the bowling party was, the football party, the disco, it always felt like his loss, and he felt it keenly. He tried to be like the other boys, but sport didn’t interest him and he was rubbish at PE. He couldn’t name any of the players in the England squad, but he could identify almost every tree and species of butterfly.
‘You’re sensitive. There’s nothing wrong with that.’ Mum smoothed his hair as he cried.
‘You’re a freak,’ his classmates said.
Finally, after coming home with another black eye, another pair of school trousers ruined where he’d been shoved over and grazed his knee, Mum moved him to a new school.
‘We’ll invite everyone in your class to your party,’ she said. ‘It will be a fresh start.’
Mum had talked about the parties she had as a child, a wistful look in her eyes, and his enthusiasm grew as together they had googled old-fashioned games. Painstakingly he had painted a donkey. It was Blu-Tacked to the back of the door, waiting for its tail to be pinned on.
At eleven thirty he carefully carried plates balanced full of warm sausage rolls with flaky pastry from the kitchen. On the wallpaper table Dad had set up in the conservatory, there were already mountains of oat and cinnamon cookies, and bowls of bright orange cheese balls. His birthday cake was in a box on top of the fridge. He’d wanted one shaped like a cat, but Mum had bought a Star Wars one instead.
He sat on the stairs and watched the clock hanging from the wall. The half hour dragged, each minute painstakingly slow, but Alex felt if he took his eye off the time it might slip away. He was longing for noon. It came and went. The doorbell remained silent. At twelve thirty Mum came and took his hand. ‘Don’t sit here any longer.’
‘I want to.’ He shook her off. Perhaps he’d written the invitations wrong. Put one o’clock instead. He watched the hands tick-tick-tick to one, to two. He couldn’t drag himself away.
‘It’s their loss,’ Mum said, as always, but it wasn’t their loss at all.
It was his, and his alone.
Later, in the kitchen, Mum rummaged through the junk drawer pulling out tea-towels, a ball of string, packets of seeds.
‘Where are the rest?’ she muttered, holding three candles she’d found in her hand, the wicks burned from where they’d been used last year.
‘Never mind,’ she smiled brightly as she’d sunk them into buttercream. ‘You only need three candles.’
She lit them and told him to make three wishes.
‘Why three?’ he asked dully.
‘Because it’s a powerful number and that’s how many wishes genies grant.’
He closed his eyes and puffed the flames to smoke.
At school on Monday nobody mentioned his party and neither did he. At break-time he joined the boys in the playground. They were catching daddy long-legs and plucking off their legs one by one. Alex felt sick but he took a turn. Was that what he had to do to fit in? To maim? To kill?
Just like he told Laura to do, he allowed himself to feel the hurt. To feel the pain.
But he still couldn’t release it.
Chapter Thirty-Two
TILLY
‘Stop! Alex!’ Both he and Dannii turned towards me. When I saw their shocked expressions I realised how loudly I’d been shouting.
‘Umm. Can I speak to you in private?’
Dannii spoke quickly, ‘Alex, you haven’t finished telling me about—’
‘It’s important,’ I cut in.
‘Okay, Tilly.’ He stretched out his arm and I stepped into it. His hand rested on the small of my back. I swear to God his fingers felt like fire. As we walked, I imagined how it would feel if he lowered his hand. Hooking his fingers inside the pocket of my jeans the way Kieron used to.
‘What’s up?’ he asked as soon as we were out of sight behind the storage barn.
I didn’t know what I was doing until I did it. ‘I don’t want this anymore.’ I pulled my mobile out of my pocket and offered it to him. It felt like I was offering myself to him. There was such a feeling of relief. Now I didn’t have to worry about any more texts from Rhianon urging me to tell the truth. I didn’t have to reply. I’d no longer fritter away hours on everyone else’s Instagram feed while my own remained stagnant.
‘Why don’t you want your mobile anymore, Tilly?’
That surprised me. I thought he’d be pleased. I was left holding out my phone, feeling like an idiot.
‘Because.’ I searched for the right words. ‘Because I’m sick of how fake social media is. The photos. The filters. There’s so much pressure to appear perfect. I know everything on my feed isn’t true, and sometimes I post how happy I am even though I feel like shit, I still think everyone else’s feed must be… true. They’re all having the best time and I… I’m not. Not having the best time.’ I was breathless when I’d stuttered it all out.
