Kitabı oku: «The Glitter Collection», sayfa 4
Chapter 8
today is not happening…
I keep waking up in the night and have to keep reminding myself where I am. When I open my eyes in the morning Claudia is standing there.
“Good morning, Tiffany,” she says, sitting on the edge of my bed. “Did you sleep well?” I shrug, ignore her questions, and try to find the safe place in my head where my life hasn’t been ruined. She doesn’t seem to mind that I’m not answering her and just carries on jabbering away. “Amida is popping back this morning, Tiffany, to have a chat and let you know what’s happening. Why don’t you have a shower and some breakfast and get yourself ready for the day?”
She takes me out into the hallway and introduces me to the girl in the next room. “This is Matilda,” says Claudia, “she’s the same age as you. She’ll show you the ropes, OK?”
“I only need to know where the shower is,” I say to Matilda when Claudia has gone. “I don’t need to see anything else. I’m being picked up soon.”
Matilda steps forward and grabs my arm, hard. “Wake up, new girl,” she sneers. “We’re all here for ever. No one’s coming back for you, no one wants you around any more; this is the rubbish dump and you’ve been dumped here, just like the rest of us. So get used to it.”
“You’re wrong,” I say, trying to stare her out, “someone is coming for me, soon.” But she’s good at staring, very good. She’s better than Chelsea, better than me. My stupid tummy turns to jelly again. Matilda pushes me into the bathroom, slams the door behind us and shows me her fist.
“See this?” she says. “You just make sure you don’t get in my way, otherwise my fist might find itself bumping into your teeth.”
“You won’t need to worry about me for long,” I brave, staring at her with hard eyes, to hide my fear. “I told you, I’m getting out of here soon. Very soon.”
But she just makes a rude sign at me and walks out.
I run the shower – hot. Is Matilda right? Am I on the rubbish dump for good? I wet a pink flannel in the hot water and bite the fluff hard while my body trembles and more tears sneak from my eyes. I panic that I might never be able to stop because my tears just keep coming and coming. I’m worried that Matilda is outside the door, listening with her big ugly ears. So I make the shower go freezing cold to wake me up and try to think about more happy stuff, like the old film, Singing in the Rain. I pretend I’m holding a big black umbrella and I tipadee-tap-dance around the shower and try to make myself smile.
While I’m getting dressed I decide that today is actually not happening. I start rubbing all the horribleness out and try filling my mind with pictures of wonderful days and beautiful things. Like my mum on a good day when she’s all happy and we’re having a lovely time together at the funfair or the ice-skating rink. Like how happy she looks when she’s bought herself a new ring or when she’s spinning around on a pair of shiny, new high-heeled shoes in a cloud of special perfume. And I try to remember her soft face when we’re snuggling in bed together, sharing secrets. But scary pictures of my mum in a police cell, and Chardonnay in kennels, and Mikey with his fat cigars, and blue flashing lights, and peppermints, and a small island with an unknown family keep crowding in.
Amida the social worker is a liar. He’s not coming to see me today like he promised. Instead he spoke to Darren on the phone and said that nothing much could be done with me until after the weekend, so I have to stay here until then. I’ve turned into a hot-potato problem that no one wants to touch. Matilda is right and I hate her for that. She makes a big fat ‘told you so’ face at me later on when we’re climbing into Darren’s car to go to the cinema. Then she ‘accidentally’ sticks her stupid clumsy foot out so that I trip and smash my shin on the cold metal. Nobody has noticed that I might not be in a cinema kind of mood. Or that it’s super-weird for me to be living in this stupid place. No one has mentioned the fact that my mum is locked behind a grey door, crying, or that I might be feeling left alone.
The truth is a bad fart smell in the room that everyone is too polite to mention. None of the other kids is saying why they got left here on the rubbish dump either.
Claudia waves us off, smiling, with a baby under her arm, like we’re her own children going out with our own dad. But I’ve never even been to the cinema with my own dad before, because I’ve never even seen him with my own eyes and I don’t even know his name, so it’s a stupid thing to pretend. I decide that Claudia is a liar too, just like everyone else in my new life. And I bet that when we’ve gone she just heaves a big sigh of relief because she’s getting rid of us all for a few hours.
Everyone is pretending to be having a nice time with Darren and the helper person that’s come along with us, when they’d really rather be somewhere else.
I want to watch the new ‘12’ film but I don’t trust Matilda’s fists in the dark.
“I want to see the Disney film with the little ones,” I lie.
“Are you sure?” asks Darren.
I nod and Matilda sticks her thumb in her mouth and makes a stupid baby face at me. I pretend not to notice and get busy showing the little ones the big card-board Disney pictures in the foyer. Darren gets us some popcorn and some juice. He’s says Coke’s not allowed because it’s bad for us, but that’s what me and Mum always have, so I don’t see the problem, really. When the Disney colours flash across the screen I try to find a gentle place in my mind; a place that’s somewhere “Over the Rainbow”, with no blue flashing lights or Crimewatch or lost Mums or spiteful Matildas. A place where there’s no waiting or wondering what might happen to you and no pretending that you’re OK, when you really have an earthquake going on inside you all of the time.
My mind starts drifting off and I’m thinking about my friend Chelsea. I really want to text her and tell her what’s happening to me, but I feel too embarrassed for anyone to know, even her. It’s obvious that I’m not going to be in school on Monday and I’m worried that if I tell her she might just let my news slip out of her mouth at lunch break. Then the gossip would spread around that my mum was in a police cell, being accused of doing bad things. And even worse, everyone would know that I’d be left here on the rubbish dump, alone, waiting to be rescued. So I have no choice. I have to wait and see what’s going to happen. But if I don’t text Chelsea as usual then she’ll wonder where I am and her imagination will go crazy. Especially as she saw Mikey’s face all over Crimewatch. There’s nothing else for it. I’ll have to think of a lie.
Chapter 9
a lie to my bestie…
That night, I creep up the stairs and slide away to my room.
I have to put my plan into action before Chelsea gets too suspicious, so I pull my mobile from my bag and ping it into life. I look through my photos and delete the one of Mikey’s big fat face, then I look at a photo of my mum. Every time I think about her, the washing machine starts up in my tummy. Something deep inside me knows that she and Mikey have done something bad, but still a small part of me wants to believe that the police have made a huge mistake. Somehow, I always knew that something like this would happen. But I never imagined how it would feel. I try to convince myself that I do not miss my mum. In fact, right now, I think I actually hate her and never want to see her again. I curl up in a tiny ball, trying to hide from the world. I open a photo of Chardonnay. Looking at her puppy face makes tiny tears escape from my eyes again, but they mustn’t, so I kiss her quick, zip away my feelings and get started on my text.
Hi, r u there? xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
I press send and wait.
Yeh, where r u? xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
A lie to my bestie.
I’m in France on holiday, in a cool hotel. Been drinking Shirley Temples by the pool all day. What r u doing? Missing u more than all the stars in the sky. xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
I press send. I have never lied to Chels before. We’re besties, forever. We’ve always told each other the truth, all our worries and all our secrets. But I can’t tell her this. Not ever. It’ll all be sorted out soon enough and Mum and I will be home and Chels will never have to know.
In France? My dad says they caught Mikey and your mum. It’s in the news. He’s v angry and says I can’t talk to u any more. Missing u 2 more than all the cherry drops in the cherry drop shop. xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
My mouth goes dry and I can’t swallow. My heart starts thumping in my ears.
They did get him. He’s rubbish, but my mum and I r in France. R we still besties? Missing u more and more and more than all the stars in the skies and more than all the lemon meringue pies. xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
I hit the send button and wait.
Have fun. Hope you don’t have to eat frogs’ legs! Besties for life xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
Yuck! Don’t worry, I won’t! Tell school I’ll be back soon. Besties for life 2, forever and ever xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
My door creaks open and a long shadow stretches its way across the carpet. I know it’s not Claudia or Darren coming to say goodnight, or a little one looking for cuddles.
“They’ll all leave you,” Matilda says, “I promise you. The texts will stop. They’ll all forget about you. Everyone else’s life will go on happily, except for yours. No one wants to be friends with a rubbish-dump girl. It happens to us all, so get used to it – fast. This is the dead zone, new girl. The end of love.”
I close my phone and throw it in my bag because she’s right, and I know that Matilda is the only one in the house who’s telling the truth.
“And you’ll never forget,” she taunts. “You wait, it happens to us all. You’ll play it over and over in your mind, trying to work it out. You’ll have your very own horror movie etched on your memory bank forever.”
Please, please don’t let her be right.
Chapter 10
i’ve got some news for you…
“I’ve got some news for you, Tiffany,” says Amida when he arrives on Monday morning. He pops a peppermint into his mouth. “Come and sit down.”
I sit at the kitchen table and sip my juice. He does that stupid thing again where he sits really close to me and looks deep into my eyes. “I’m afraid that your mum’s going to have to stay in police custody for a bit longer than we thought. There’s good news though, Tiffany. She’s arranged for you to stay with your family on Sark.” My tummy starts churning. He breathes peppermint breath in my face. “Your mum’s managed to get hold of her sister, your Auntie Cass, and she’s coming to pick you up this afternoon.”
My head starts spinning. I know I suggested that my mum telephoned Sark, but I didn’t think about what might happen if someone came to get me. I didn’t think that I’d actually be going to stay with them. What I really thought was that she’d be home by now and that I’d be back at school on Monday morning and no one would ever have to know anything about the worst weekend of my life. What are my family on Sark like? My mum always said it was the most boring place on the planet! And I don’t know even where I’ll be living or what school I’ll be going to or what’s going to happen to me. But someone is coming to get me soon.
I leave Amida drinking coffee with Claudia and fly upstairs to the green room. I stuff my clothes into my wheelie suitcase. Matilda was wrong. I’m not a rubbish-dump kid after all; somebody in this stupid world cares about me, even if my own mother doesn’t! I put my case near the front door and sit on the tatty old sofa in the hallway.
“She won’t be here for hours, Tiffany,” says Claudia. “Why don’t you find something to do to pass the time?”
But I’m not moving. No way. As far as I can see, rubbish-dump kids don’t get rescued very often and I’m not about to miss my opportunity for escape. And I have a lot of thinking to do. What will my Auntie Cass be like? How long will I have to stay with her? Will I evenlike her? And what about Chardonnay? My brain is a fairground ride, spinning and spinning. I pick and pick at the little frayed strands of sofa fabric and make tiny plaits to pass the time. I wait and wait. At lunchtime Claudia brings me a cheese and tomato toastie and some juice. The baby is having a nap so she does that sitting-really-close-to-me, looking-into-my-eyes thing, like Amida.
“How are you feeling, Tiffany?” she asks, sipping on her coffee.
It’s a stupid question. In the past three days my whole life has turned into a crumbling tower and I know that she’s trying to squirrel away into my feelings again. But I don’t want it, so I put them in a safe box, tuck them inside my heart and hide away the key. “I’m fine,” I say. “Really fine.”
I’m still waiting when Darren brings the kids home from school. Matilda slumps down on the sofa next to me. “So it’s true, you really are going then?”
“I am,” I say. “My auntie’s coming to pick me up.” I want to say “I told you so, you horrible girl” and I want to hurt her and scare her and get my own back, but her face looks so sad that I can’t bring myself to do it. She waits and waits with me, and the more I think about it, the more I begin to see that Matilda isn’t a horrible girl at all; she’s a hurt girl, a left-alone girl. I start to understand how hurt feelings can sometimes come out all twisted and wrong and make people do horrible things like lying to their best friend.
“I wish I could come,” she sighs. “I wish I could drink some magic shrinking potion and climb in your bag. No one would notice.”
We sit in silence, busy with our thoughts. After ages and ages someone knocks at the door. I freeze and wait for Darren to open it. My heart’s thumping away. I smooth my hair down and paint on a smile. And suddenly, Amida appears in the doorway with a woman who looks like a brown-haired version of my mum. The lump grows in my throat again, making it hard to swallow. My eyes don’t know where to look and I don’t know what to do. I needn’t have worried, because my Auntie Cass takes charge.
“Wow,” she says, looking at Matilda, and me. “I don’t need to be told which one of you is Tiffany, do I? Look at you,” she says pulling me to my feet and folding me into her arms. “You look exactly like your mum did when she was your age. I can’t believe it!” She cups my face in her hands and takes a good look at me, tears rolling down her cheeks. “I’m so excited to meet you, Tiff, so glad you’re safe. I didn’t even know you’d been born until your mum phoned me.” My throat lump starts aching and tears are pricking at my eyes. I push them down, and push her away. I can’t let myself cry, not know.
“Can we go?” I whisper.
“You, bet,” she says.
Claudia, Darren and Amida say goodbye to me and wish me luck. Matilda’s face turns into thunder and rain. “You’re so lucky,” she says, rubbing her eyes.
“I know,” I say, giving her cold hand a warm squeeze, “and I think you will be too, one day.”
And I just hope that I am right.
